Scared to Death by Wendy Corsi Staub Page A

Spider-Man toy, or wearing a Spider-Man costume…?”
    Brett looks at Elsa, who again shakes her head. “He was never interested until that day at Wal-Mart. And anyway, I’ve spent fifteen years going through every photo album we have. There are no pictures anywhere of Jeremy in a Spider-Man costume.”
    â€œWhat about before he came to you?”
    â€œBefore he came to us, there were no toys, and no pictures—other than the ones the foster agency took.” Maybe Elsa is exaggerating, but not all that much.
    Jeremy bounced from one foster home to another before he landed in theirs, having been deprived of just about everything—toys, fun, love…particularly love.
    â€œAs far as I’m concerned, there’s only one way anyone would link Spider-Man to Jeremy…” She pauses meaningfully before delivering the bombshell: “And that’s by having been there when he disappeared fifteen years ago.”
    Â 
    â€œWhat is it, Mom?”
    Marin frowns at the text message on her phone. “I don’t know…I just got this text. I guess it was meant for someone else.”
    â€œWhat does it say?”
    â€œIt doesn’t say anything.”
    â€œIs it porn?” Annie asks with interest.
    â€œNo, it’s not porn !” Wait—it’s not, is it?
    â€œCan I see?”
    Marin shrugs and hands over the phone.
    Annie takes a quick glance and announces, “That’s an emoticon, Mom.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œYou know how people type a row of symbols—like, to show that you’re making a joke, you do a sideways smiley face made out of a colon for the eyes and a close parenthesis for the mouth?”
    â€œYes…so you think this is something like that?”
    â€œProbably. See?”
    Marin looks over Annie’s shoulder, trying to see the cryptic text message as an image.
    ~~(=:>
    â€œWhat’s it supposed to mean?” she asks her daughter, still stumped.
    â€œI have no idea.” Together, they silently study the symbols.
    Annie gasps. “Whoa! I think I know what it is.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œOkay, don’t freak out, Mom…but that totally looks like a rat.”
    â€œA rat?” She squints at the image. “I don’t see—”
    The phone cuts her off, buzzing with another message. It’s from the same sender. Marin opens it, and her blood runs cold.
    That was nothing, Mrs. Quinn. Stay tuned .
    Â 
    That first day in Groton last fall, Jeremy had found the Cavalons’ home with no problem. Incredible,what you can find on the Internet with a little bit of searching.
    Yet somehow, no one ever managed to find me in fourteen years.
    Once he got to the house, he wasn’t sure what to do. He sure as hell wasn’t going to march right up, ring the doorbell, and say, “I’m your long-lost son.”
    Anyway, the place looked deserted; there were no cars parked in the driveway. So he sat in his rented pickup truck down the street and studied the house.
    The long, low ranch was different from the home he remembered, back when they were living in Nottingshire. But this one was just as inviting. The yard was carpeted with leaves from the huge old trees surrounding the house, and potted mums and a couple of pumpkins sat on the front step. It looked like a wonderful, cozy place to live, and Jeremy was dizzy with homesickness by the time a car pulled into the Cavalons’ driveway.
    Seconds later, she stepped out of the driver’s seat.
    He braced himself for his first glimpse of Elsa in over fourteen years. His recent obsession with news footage of her must have lessened the impact, though. Seeing her in person brought a fleeting wave of nostalgia and comfort, and none of the anguish he’d anticipated.
    Swept by the urge to run down the street and hurtle himself into her arms, he was about to do just that…
    Then she opened the back door of the car and leaned