Free Dark Screams: Volume Two by Robert R. McCammon, Graham Masterton, Richard Christian Matheson

the authorities and report what we found.”
    Patrick didn’t speak, the disbelief in his features growing by the second.
    “Patrick?” she asked again.
    “I agree,” Patrick finally said. “Let me call them.”
    Brody nodded.
    “Find some tarp to cover her up.” She gently pried the chisel from Brody, who stood like a statue before the grisly scene, mouth agape.
    “Not a problem,” he mumbled. He complied, taking a tarp from the pile. She turned away while he finished his work. “I’m freaking out here, so I’m gonna go get some equipment from the van.”
    Her mouth moved on autopilot. “Yeah, you go do that.”
    After Brody left, only the sounds of the rainstorm outside filled the room. She was alone—other than the deceased woman. Even with the thick plastic over the wall opening, Eleanor couldn’t look away. She added some distance, taking the time to look for her phone. She’d left it on the fireplace mantel, but now it was gone.
    The phone didn’t matter right now, anyway. Soon enough this place would be swarming with cops. The very thought lifted a weight from her shoulders.
    The tarp shifted.
    The plastic folded inward, only to flex out again.
    Her heartbeat sped up as her gaze flicked from the doorway to the hallway. Would Brody and Patrick come by soon? When the tarp moved again, she couldn’t take it anymore. She darted across the room, snatching away the covering. The dead body hadn’t moved. The lady in blue remained stiff and quite dead. Wasn’t she?
    Slowly, she reached out. Ellie had done this before, many years ago. She could do it again.
Mrs. Foster’s dead. She’s long gone.
    Before she touched the petrified skin, a faint breeze brushed against the top of her hand. The wind came from the cracks. They were most likely the source of the movement.
    Eleanor chuckled to herself. All this fresh and clean country air had gotten to her. She left the room and decided to hang out in the hallway. Seeing Brody return to the house, even soaking wet from the rain, was welcomed.
    The way he shuffled into the foyer gave her pause. “What’s going on?”
    “I couldn’t find my phone to call Gail to tell her what happened, so I went out to the van. On my way in I found this.” He opened his palm to reveal a white smartphone in a lavender case.
    “That’s Gail’s,” she said. “She probably dropped it on her way out—”
    “All the cars are still here.”
    Eleanor swallowed deeply. There had to be a simple explanation for this, yet she couldn’t think of one. She plucked the phone from him.
    “I don’t like this,” she admitted. She glanced past him, down the dark hallway toward the front door. Through the windows in the foyer she could see out into the front lawn. The rain pelted against the swaying trees. Maybe if she wished hard enough the police would show up. Anytime now would be good. “Go find Patrick. I’ll check the other rooms and the bathroom.”
    Brody nodded and headed for the study off the kitchen.
    Eleanor checked through the phone calls to see if Gail had made any. Her last phone call had been with someone with a local area code. That had been less than an hour ago.
    So where had she gone without her phone or the car?
    “Gail? Are you here?” Eleanor checked the dining room first. There wasn’t much there except for scattered tarp, equipment, and covered furniture. Nothing was disturbed. She searched the bathrooms next. The ones on the main floor were empty. The only thing left was to check the bedrooms where they’d slept last night.
    Beyond the sitting and dining room, the hallway led deeper into the house. The faint light from the antique sconces on the walls left too many shadows. Too many places to feed overactive imaginations. If her mom had been here, she’d probably tell her to fear what was in her mind more than what she saw with her eyes.
    “What you fear in your head will cut you more sharply than any knife in a kitchen, Ellie.”
Her mother had pulled