Rose (Shooting Stars 3) - Page 8

I thanked Barry and got out of his car quickly when we pulled into my driveway. I could see that Daddy's Jeep was still not there.

"I'll call you," Barry shouted as I hurried to the door.

I waved back at him and practically lunged into the house.

Mammy was in the living room staring at the wall. I caught my breath and waited.

"I phoned the police and it was just as I expected. They told me he'd have to be gone longer for them to consider it any sort of police matter. I asked how long and the dispatcher said longer. He wouldn't give me a specific time.'

She lifted her hands, palms up.

"What do we do?"

"What can we do, Mommy? We wait." I said and sat beside her.

She took my hand and rocked a bit and then she leaned against me and we both sat there, our hearts pounding as one, waiting in silence.

"Put on the television set," Mommy said after a while. "I need something to distract me."

I did. We gazed at the picture, heard the voices of the actors, but it all ran together. Near midnight. Mommy fell asleep beside me. I rose to turn off the television set when I saw the car headlights pulling into our driveway. My heart did flip-flops. Daddy, I thought. Finally.

But when I stepped up to the window, I saw it wasn't Daddy. It was a police car, with the emblem on the side identifying it as a Georgia State Police vehicle. Two officers stepped out, put on their hats, and walked toward our front door. For a moment, I couldn't move: I couldn't breathe. I just watched them approaching. Then I turned to Mommy. I thought I said. "Mommy," but she didn't stir and I wasn't sure if I had spoken or shouted in my own mind.

The sound of the door buzzer made her eyelids flutter. The policemen pressed the buzzer again and Mammy opened her eyes, looked at me, and sat up.

"Was that our front door?"

"Yes, Mommy," I said. I couldn't swallow.

"Well, who would be here at this hour?"

I glanced out the window and then back at her. "It's the police, Mammy."

"The police?"

She smothered a cry. She seemed frozen. Her hand hovered near her throat. Something horrible exploded in my heart just watching her reactions,

"Go," she finally managed to utter.

I went quickly to the door and opened it. They had their hats off again. Both looked so tall and impressive, larger than life, beyond reality, like two characters who had emerged from the television program we were barely watching.

"Is this the home of Charles Wallace?" the slightly taller one on the right asked me.

"Yes."

"Is Mrs. Wallace here?"

"Yes." I'm glad they didn't ask another question. I didn't think I could say more.

They stepped in and I backed up. The second patrolman closed the door behind him.

"May we speak with her?" the first patrolman asked me.

I nodded and went to the living room doorway. They followed. "Mrs. Charles Wallace?" he asked.

Mommy nodded-- slightly, stiffly. Quickly. I went to her side and she reached up for my hand.

The patrolman approached us. In the light his face looked pale, his eyes two

Tags: V.C. Andrews Shooting Stars Horror
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