All-Night Party by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

comb through the tangles. Jackson stood beside her, wrapped in a blanket of his own, also warming himself up.
    â€œHe could have been watching you the entire time, getting ready to strike,” Jackson said. “It’s a good thing Hannah told me you were out there.”
    Jackson’s words chilled Gretchen more than the icy rain outside. She recalled the scene in the kitchen that she’d overheard. Jackson and Cindy arguing.
    The sound of the slap.
    Then the silence.
    Should she ask Jackson about that argument? Would he tell her the truth?
    â€œWe didn’t find anybody,” Patrick announced as he marched into the room with Gil and Marco.
    â€œNeither did we,” Gretchen replied. She left Jackson at the fireplace and plopped down next to Hannah on the couch.
    â€œDid you check everywhere down here?” Jackson asked.
    â€œEverywhere except the kitchen,” Gretchen told him.
    â€œMarco and I will do it,” Jackson offered.
    Gretchen watched Jackson and Marco disappear into the kitchen. She could hear them moving about. Then all was quiet. Minutes dragged by. Jackson and Marco didn’t return from the kitchen.
    Gretchen glanced at her watch. What was taking them so long?
    â€œWhat’s going on in there?” Hannah whimpered.
    â€œI don’t know,” Gretchen answered.
    She jumped up from the couch and strode to the kitchen door. She pressed her ear against the door. All was silent on the other side.
    â€œThe killer is in there!” Gretchen shrieked. “He’s killed Jackson and Marco!”

Chapter
19

    â€œJ ackson!” Hannah cried.
    Gretchen stepped back as Jackson and Marco came walking out of the kitchen.
    â€œWhat happened?” Gretchen demanded as they returned to the front room. She sat down next to Hannah. “What took you so long?”
    â€œSorry,” Jackson apologized, sitting in a wooden chair across from the couch. “We were in the walk-in pantry.”
    â€œSo the kitchen is safe?” Gil asked.
    Jackson nodded.
    â€œWhat do we do now?” Hannah asked. “Wait till the police arrive tomorrow?”
    Marco shook his head. “No. We ask some questions.”
    Gretchen stared at Marco. “Questions? What kind of questions?”
    Marco turned to Patrick, who was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. “How did you say you got that blood on your shirt?”
    Gretchen watched as all eyes in the room locked on the front of Patrick’s shirt.
    â€œI told you,” Patrick explained. “I cut my hand when I opened the bedroom window.”
    â€œBut there isn’t any blood on the windowsill,” Marco said. “I know. I checked when we were searching upstairs.”
    Patrick laughed. “So? Is that supposed to mean I’m a killer?”
    â€œWhy isn’t there any blood?” Gil asked.
    â€œThere isn’t any blood on the windowsill because I cleaned it up.” Patrick held up his bandaged hand. “And if you still don’t believe me, you can take a look at the cut on my palm. Or check out the garbage in the kitchen. It’s filled with pieces of broken glass.”
    Gretchen felt her body trembling. She knew it wasn’t from the rain and cold, but from the fear in the room.
    â€œCan we please stop attacking each other?” she pleaded. “It won’t do us any good. Let’s try to figure out what we’re going to do next. We need a plan.”
    Hannah began crying again.
    â€œI feel so awful,” she sobbed. “I fought with Cindy yesterday afternoon. I found out she won the scholarship I applied for, and I said some horrible things to her. Now I’ll never have a chance to apologize.”
    Gretchen studied Hannah, wondering if her tears were real. She remembered the scene in the kitchen.
    Remembered Hannah saying she wished Cindy was dead.
    Remembered how angry Hannah had been about the scholarship.
    With Cindy dead, there was