Dean Koontz - Phantoms

Kale had been there twice during the course of selling Johnson the mountain property. He had no difficulty finding the house again.

He pulled the Datsun into the driveway, cut the engine, and got out. He hoped no neighbors were watching.

He went around toward the back of the house, broke a kitchen window, and clambered inside.

He went directly to the garage. It was big enough for two cars, but only a four-wheel-drive Jeep station wagon was there.

He had known Johnson owned the Jeep, and he had hoped to find it here.

He opened the garage door and drove the stolen Datsun inside. When the door was closed again and the Datsun could not be seen from the sumt, he felt safer.

In the master bedroom, he went through Johnson's closet and found a pair of sturdy hiking boots only half a size larger than he required. Johnson was a couple of inches shorter than Kale, so the pants weren't the right length, but tucked into the boots, they looked good enough. The waist was too large for Kale, but he cinched it in with a belt. He selected a sports shirt and tried it on. Good enough.

Once dressed, he studied himself in the full-length mirror.

"Looking good," he told his reflection.

Then he went through the house, looking for guns. He couldn't find any.

All right, then they were hidden somewhere. He'd tear the joint to pieces to find them, if it came to that.

He started in the master bedroom. He emptied out the contents of the bureau and dresser drawers. No guns. He went through both nightstands.

No guns. He took everything out of the walk-in closet: clothes, shoes, suitcases, boxes, a steamer trunk. No guns. He pulled up the edges of the carpet and searched under it for a hidden storage area. He found nothing.

Half an hour later, he was sweating but not tired. Indeed, he was exhilarated. He looked around at the destruction he had wrought, and he was strangely pleased. The room appeared to have been bombed.

He went into the next room-probing, ripping, overturning, and smashing everything in his path.

He wanted very much to find those guns.

But he was also having fun.

Some Answers More Questions The house was exceptionally neat and clean, but the color scheme and the unrelenting frilliness made Bryce Hammond nervous. Everything was either green or yellow. Everything.

The carpets were green, and the walls were pale yellow. In the living room, the sofas were done in a yellow and green floral print that was bright enough to send you running for an ophthalmologist. The two armchairs were emerald green, and the two side chairs were canary yellow. The ceramic lamps were yellow with green swirls, and the shades were chartreuse with tassels.

On the walls were two big prints-yellow daisies in a verdant field. The master bedroom was worse: floral wallpaper brighter than the fabric on the living room sofas, scaringly yellow drapes with a scalloped valance.

A dozen accent pillows were scattered across the upper end of the bed; some of them were green with yellow lace trim, and some were yellow with green lace trim.

According to Jenny, the house was occupied by Ed and Theresa Lange, their three teenagers, and Theresa's seventy-year-old mother.

None of the occupants could be found. There were no bodies, and Bryce was thankful for that. Somehow, a bruised and swollen corpse would have looked especially terrible here, in the midst of this almost maniacally cheerful decor.

The kitchen was green and yellow, too.

At the sink, Tal Whitman said, "Here's something. Better have a look at this, Chief.”

Bryce, Jenny, and Captain Arkhain went toTal but the other two deputies remained back by the doorway with Lisa between them. It was hard to tell what might turn up in a kitchen sink in this town, in the middle of this Love craft nightmare. Someone's head, maybe. Or another pair of severed hands. Or worse But it wasn't worse. It was merely odd.

" A regular jewelry store," Tal said.

The double sink was filled with jewelry. Mostly rings and watches.

There were both men's and women's watches: Timex, Seiko, Bulova, even a Rolex; some of them were attached to flexible bands; some with no bands at all; none of them was attached to a leather or plastic band. Bryce saw scores of wedding and engagement rings; the diamonds glittered brilliantly.

Birthstone rings, too: garnet, amethyst, bloodstone, topaz, tourmaline; rings with ruby and emerald chips. High school and college rings. Junk jewelry was all mixed up with the high priced pieces. Bryce dug his hands into one of the piles of valuables the way a pirate, in the movies, always drenched his hands in the contents of a treasure chest.

He stirred up the shining baubles and saw other kinds of jewelry: earrings, charm bracelets, loose pearls from a broken necklace or two, gold chains, a lovely cameo pendant…

"This stuff can't all belong to the Langes," Tal said.

"Wait," Jenny said. She snatched a watch from the pile and examined it closely.

" Recognize that one?" Bryce asked.

"Yes. Earlier. A tank watch. Not the classic tank with Roman numerals. This has no numerals and a black face. Sylvia Kanarsky gave it to her husband, Dan, for their fifth wedding anniversary.”

Bryce frowned." Where do I know that name from?”

"They own the Candle glow Inn," Jenny said.

"Oh, yes. Your friends.”

" Among the missing," Tal said.

"Dan loved this watch," Jenny said." When Sylvia bought it for him, it was a terrible extravagance. The inn was still on rather shaky financial footing, and the watch cost three hundred and fifty dollars.

Now of course, it's worth considerably more.

Dan used to joke that it was the best investment they'd ever made.”

She held the watch up, so Tal and Bryce could see the back.

At the top of the gold case, above the Carner logo, was engraved: TO MY DAN. At the bottom, under the serial number, was LOVE, SYL.

Bryce looked down at the sinkful of jewelry." So the stuff probably belongs to people from all over Snowfield.”

"Well, I'd say it belongs to those whore missing, anyway," Tal said.”

The victims we've found so far were still wearing their jewelry.”

Bryce nodded." You're right. So those whore missing were stripped of all their valuables before they were taken to… to… well, to wherever the hell they were taken.”

"Thieves wouldn't let the loot lie around like this," Jenny said." They wouldn't collect it and then just dump it in someone's kitchen sink.

They'd pack it up and take it with them.”

"Then what's all this stuff doing here?" Bryce said.

"Beats me," Jenny said.

Tal shrugged.

In the two sinks, the jewelry gleamed and flashed.

The cries of sea gulls.

Dogs barking.

Galen Copperfield looked up from the computer terminal, where he had been reading data. He was sweaty inside his decon suit, tired and achy.

For a moment, he wasn't sure he was really hearing the birds and dogs.

Then a cat squealed.

A horse whinnied.

The general glanced around the mobile lab, frowning.

Rattlesnakes. A lot of them. The familiar, deadly sound: chicka-chicka-chicka-chicka.

Buzzing bees.

The others heard it, too. They looked at one another uneasily.

Roberts said, "It's coming through the suit-to-suit radio.”

"Affirmative," Dr. Bettenby said from over in the second motor home.”

We hear it here, too.”

"Okay," Copperfield said, "let's give it a chance to perform.

If you want to speak to one another, use your external com systems.”

The bees stopped buzzing.

A child-the sex indeterminate; androgynous-began to sing very softly, far away: "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.