Return to The Quarry

Chapter Two

A WEEK EARLIER

 Anton Andersen looked from the landline telephone on the desk to Grace Corvin, who sat opposite him tapping a frenetic rhythm on the arms of her studio chair.

"Wanna order out for dinner?" he asked.

Grace jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Not now! We can't tie up the line!"

With a sigh and audible growl in his stomach, Anton slumped back in his chair.

"I was going to use my phone, genius."

"It's seven-thirty. She said she'd call by seven-thirty."

"And you promised that if she doesn't, you'll dismiss her as the crank she probably is."

"She's not a crank," Grace said, picking lint off the pop filter of the gooseneck microphone in front of her. "At least I don't think she is."

The telephone rang. With catlike spring, Grace pounced on the receiver and nearly dropped it as she raised it to her ear.

"Hello?"

It was a telemarketer. Always a telemarketer when you're expecting an important call, Grace thought bitterly. She didn't want to look at Anton as she sat back down in her chair. It had been several years since Anton completely shredded her over a lead she was really passionate about. Six years to be exact. But when the leads dried up, or worse turned out to be patently false, Anton had a field day, gloating and taking cheap shots at her. She seethed every time she thought about that lead. That story was, of course, the various strange happenings that took place on or around a property in downstate New York known as Hackett's Quarry. She had been tipped off by residents of the surrounding town about stories of a ghost woman roaming the woods, and it made for Bizarre Yet Bonafide's most listened-to episode. But things started to fall apart later, when rumors of werewolves being behind the incident which shut down Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp began to circulate. In spite of a whole box of evidence being sent to their P.O. box – good evidence at that which confirmed that the FBI was hiding something huge in North Kill, New York – Anton remained unconvinced and made that known in pointed remarks here and there. Both on and off the air. Actually, he started with that whole I told you so crap much earlier, when she had to walk back the whole story about the body in the woods being that of a missing hiker when that lead turned out to be garbage.

Well, Grace said to herself, the body of the missing hiker wasn't there because she was alive and well and at the UPS Store putting postage on a powder keg full of evidence with our name on it!

At least that was what she hoped was going on as she looked at the box, corners bruised from being shoved into their P.O. box. She hoped like hell that this lead didn't turn out to be another dud, just right for Anton's stupid little-

The telephone rang again and Grace dove on it.

"Hello?" she said, more eagerly than she had anticipated.

The voice on the other end, a reluctant female voice speaking quietly as though she were trying not to be heard by others, came over the line.

"Hello . . . is this Grace?"

The thumbs up she gave to Anton was received with Anton's indifferent glance up from a Chinese take-out menu.

"Yes! Yes, hello! Is this Ann?"

Silence came for a second.

"It's so strange to hear anyone call me that. Yes. I was Ann Radcliffe."