SKIN DEEP

by

AUTHOR C

Chapter 5

The Chapters

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

EPILOGUE

Chet held the long stick over the flames, sniffing appreciatively as a rich, roasted-hot-dog smell filled the air. He pulled the wiener off the stick and smiled. "Hmm, perfect." He glanced around the bonfire, noticing his friends seemed to be having fun. Joe was dancing around, pretending to be the pirate he was dressed as. Tony was swooping around him. Phil was seated on the ground, eating marshmallows straight from the package by the handful. Chet saw his sister and Callie with their heads together, whispering.

His smile faded as he noticed that he couldn't see Frank or Biff anywhere. He headed into the house. "Mom!"

Sarah looked up from her needlepoint. "Chet, there's no need to shout. What's wrong?"

"Is Frank or Biff in here?"

Sarah Morton shook her head. "No. Last time I saw either of them was outside."

Chet frowned, wondering where they could have gone. He glanced out the kitchen window only to see both Tony and Phil drifting off towards the woods. A moment later, Joe seemed to go rigid and still. Suddenly, he turned around and followed Tony and Phil.

Chet wondered if it was some Halloween prank. He saw Iola talking with Callie and suddenly Callie seemed to want to follow the guys. He set the hot dog on the counter. "I'll be right back, Mom."

Sarah nodded, focused on her project. She looked up a moment later, surprised to see the wiener sitting on the counter. "Chet?" She waited a moment, in case he came back. Then she shrugged and ate it. Why let delicious food go to waste?

Chet ran up to his sister. "Iola."

"I don't know what happened. Callie and I were talking about the guys..." Iola blushed and cleared her throat. "And then suddenly, she took off."

"I'll go find them. They don't know the woods around here good enough."

"I'm going with you."

Chet started to shake his head but his sister glared at him. "Don't you dare say I'm too little. I'm not that much younger than you."

Chet sighed and focused his attention on the dark woods. An owl hooted and he jumped. The idea of going in that spooky forest alone was definitely not appealing. "All right. Come on."

Iola smirked. "You just didn't want to go in there alone."

Chet groaned. "Iola...if you tell anybody that, I'll...I'll..." He shook his head again. "Never mind. Let's go."

They stepped away from the glow of the bonfire and into the woods and for a moment, it was as if the lights had gone out, it was so dark. Then faintly, they both saw moonlight spilling through the trees, almost highlighting a path.

Brother and sister hurried down the path until the sound of grunting made them stop cold. Chet took a deep breath and hoped he could make his heart settle down. He moved forward slowly, trembling with cold – or maybe it was fear. He saw a figure struggling with something and it took a moment for him to realize it was Joe.

Relief swept over him and he stepped forward. "Joe?"

Joe didn't look at him. Chet saw what his friend was struggling with. Apparently, Mrs. Hardy hadn't wanted Joe to lose his play sword. She'd tied the scabbard to a long skinny scarf and then had tied the scarf around Joe's waist as a belt. The scabbard was tangled in some vines and Joe couldn't get the belt undone.

Chet moved closer and touched his friend's shoulder only to notice Joe was sweating despite the cold air. "Joe?"

"Help me get this off." Joe's voice sounded odd, toneless and it gave Iola a chill.

"Joe? Why not take off the vest and shirt? Maybe that will help," suggested Iola.

Joe gazed at her, or rather through her, but did as she suggested. Then he began fighting with the belt again. He didn't even try to move away when Chet used the shirt to dry some of the sweat off.

After a moment, Joe shivered. He blinked and looked around. "What—?" He looked at Chet and then down at himself. "Where's my shirt?"

"It's kind of wet."

Joe stared at the shirt and then looked at Chet. A second later, he saw Iola and immediately folded his arms across his chest. "What's going on?"

"That's what we were going to ask you," said Chet, looking uneasy in the moonlight.

"I was goofing around with Tony and...and..." Joe frowned. "That's the last thing I remember."

Chet handed Joe the vest. "This isn't wet."

Joe put it on and then glared at the belt. "How'd this happen?"

Iola stepped forward. "Let me try." After nearly a minute, she untied the sash from around his waist. "There."

"Thanks." Joe shivered. "Where's everyone else?"

"They all took off like you did."

Joe took a step forward and then stopped. "Listen."

Chet went still and then shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly. Dad once said that when people go through woods or forests they disturb the animals, making them go away from the area." He motioned to Chet and Iola. "Come on."

It wasn't long before they found themselves in a small clearing with a cottage across the way. The door was open and the inviting flicker of firelight drew the three of them toward the cottage. Joe would have welcomed the heat of a fire by now; he was shivering constantly but the way the door hung open gave him pause.

"I never knew this was here," whispered Chet.

Iola moved closer to Joe. "Who could live here?"

Joe stepped forward, spotting a familiar shadow. "Frank's in there."

Chet's eyes went wide. "What?"

Joe spun around. "Shh!"

"Ahh, the stragglers have come," came a deep, guttural voice. "Welcome."

A slender figure came to the doorway. Firelight and moonglow seemed to make the hair shimmer in silvery strands but the face was in constant shadow as if it absorbed the light rather than reflecting it. "Come closer."

Joe took a deep breath and started forward again but Chet grabbed his arm. "You're not going in there, are you?"

"Frank's in there."

Iola's violet eyes widened in shock. "I see Callie."

Joe pulled free of Chet's hold and moved closer to the cottage. The silver-haired figure shifted slightly. "Why, you're cold. Where's your shirt?"

Something in the tone of the voice sounded oddly familiar. Joe swallowed hard. "I took it off."

A hand snaked out of the darkness and grabbed him by the arm. "Why did you do that?" Joe was propelled into the cottage and stumbled. "You fool, you'll ruin it all."

Chet froze, stunned and then he moved forward. He had to get his friends out of that weird cottage. He made it to the door just as it slammed shut. He reached for the doorknob but couldn't find one. "Joe!"

Iola let out a small scream. "Chet, what do we do now?"

Inside, Joe savored the warmth of the fire but when he turned around he caught a glimpse of the figure's face. He stared, shocked. Surely he didn't see what he thought he'd seen. The mask from the shop display window – what was going on?

*****

Fenton Hardy had divested himself of his Tommy gun soon after he and Laura had arrived at the country club. It was awkward to carry around, not to mention he needed both hands to dance and to eat. Laura had ducked into the ladies room, leaving him with Sam Radley and his wife, as well as several other couples.

The mayor, Bradley Pierce, nodded to Fenton. "Glad you could make the party." The man was dressed as King Henry the Eighth. His wife, Melissa was dressed as a medieval princess.

"Laura and I don't often get to go to things like this, due to my schedule."

Pierce nodded. "Yes, I understand you just assisted the Chicago police on an arson case."

Before any questions could be asked, Laura walked up, an odd look on her face. Fenton steered her to one side. "Everything all right?"

"I don't know. I called Gertrude to see if she had a lot of children come by and she said no."

Fenton shrugged. "Well, maybe everyone's doing parties this year. It is safer."

Laura shook her head. "No, Gertrude said there had been plenty of little ones, around eight years old and younger. She even had three thirteen-year-olds dressed as the Three Musketeers. She said it's Frank and Joe's age group she hasn't seen. At all."

For some bizarre reason, Fenton thought about the costume shop and its mysterious owner. He shook his head to clear it. "Maybe that age group is doing parties. They're too old to be driven around to trick-or-treat and they're too young to do it unsupervised."

Laura didn't look all that convinced but she nodded. "All right. But do you mind if we leave in a little while? I want to be home when the boys get back."

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