The Midnight Tour

don’t believe in the beasts. Evidence or no evidence. They’re like Bigfoot. Like vampires or werewolves. We’d sound like lunatics. We’d get accused of being frauds...And there’s no telling how a thing like that might play out. We might have even more people trying to sneak into the house at night. A warning might cause more attacks.”

Dana frowned through the darkness at him. “The Midnight Tour goes in at night.”

“It’s never been attacked.”

“At least not so far.”

“For all we know,” Warren said, “the beast hasn’t been in the house since the night it got me.”

“But it might be there every night.”

“No. Janice made sure things were safe. She cancelled the Midnight Tour and spent every night for more than two weeks in Beast House.”

“By herself?”

“Yeah. With Jerry’s .44 magnum. Most of the time, she stayed in the cellar. In the dark. Just waiting for the beast to come along.”

“My God. Is she nuts or something?”

“Brave,” Warren said.

“At least. I can’t imagine doing something like that. Actually, I can. Out of her mind.”

“Well, she felt that she had to do it.”

“What did she tell Mister Tucker about her nightly disappearing act?”

“Just that she wanted to guard the house from overnight intruders. And that she was hoping to catch the guys who’d assaulted me. Jerry and Lynn both volunteered for the job, but Janice wouldn’t let them. She insisted on handling it herself. Anyway, nothing happetted. The beast never showed up. So then she had a lock installed on our side of the tunnel door.”

“Is that how it got in? Through the Kutch tunnel?”

“Could be. Seems likely, since the lock was off.”

“Did anyone talk to Agnes about it^? Or search her house?”

“Nope. Couldn’t do it without involving the police and getting a search warrant.”

“Why couldn’t Janice just drop in on her?”

“She tried, but Agnes wouldn’t come to the door. And Janice didn’t want to force the issue because part of her original deal was that Agnes’s house would be out of bounds.”

“So Agnes might’ve been harboring whatever attacked you?”

“Possible,” Warren said. “Or maybe she didn’t have anything to do with it. The thing could’ve gotten in from our side. Maybe it was out in the hills behind the house and found an entrance to the burrow.”

“But the locked cover...?”

“...was put in after I got attacked.”

“Ah.”

“Before that, we had an open hole in the cellar floor—with cordons around it so the tourists wouldn’t fall in. No telling what might’ve come crawling out of it at night.”

Dana realized she had goosebumps. Rubbing one of her forearms, she said, “But nothing can get in now?”

“Wouldn’t be easy. And if it did, we’d find out first thing in the morning. You know how Lynn checks through the whole house...”

“I’ve been with her.”

“She always makes a trip down cellar, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s to make sure nothing’s open down there.” Warren flicked on his turn signal, then slowed down. “If she finds a lock off, anything like that, she’s supposed to run like hell, clear the house if someone else is inside, then lock the front door and notify Janice.”

“Who will then come over with the Smith & Wesson?”

“That’s the plan,” Warren said. He turned right and started up the road. On both sides, trees loomed over them. No moonlight reached the pavement. The only light came from his car’s bright headbeams. “So far,” he said, “everything’s been fine. Nothing’s gotten in and nobody else has been attacked.”

“Nobody you know about.”

“Yeah. Well...I know what you mean. The tape players that don’t come back. But there are so many possible explanations for that. And nobody seems to be missing.”

“People must go missing all the time,” Dana said.

“Oh, I suppose so. Not out of Beast House, though. Not as far as we know. And we’d probably hear about it if a wife or daughter or someone disappeared during a tour.” He grinned at Dana. “As you found out the hard way.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Wish I could’ve been there.”

“So you could watch me hurl? If I’d had another margarita or two, I could’ve put on a demonstration for you tonight.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“Hope not,” Dana said. “By the way, you know...speaking of the little tyke who ran up the attic stairs...Lance? You obviously heard about my trouble with his mother, but did you also know that he screamed when he was up in the attic and he came running down the stairs in a panic, yelling his head off about being chased?”

“Oh, yeah. I heard about that, too.”

“He said something was after him. But then all the trouble started with his mother and I never got to ask him about it.”

“Nobody did,” Warren said. “He and his mom took off the minute they got out of the house. But Lynn went up into the attic to investigate.”

“Right. She told me.”

“Nobody there. Which is pretty much what she expected. That sort of thing happens every so often—people get a case of beast on the brain and think they see one. Especially kids. They scream loud enough to wake the dead, run like hell, and scare the bejezus out of everyone. But it’s just their imaginations going wild.”

He turned onto the narrow, sloping driveway...

We’re almost back!

Dana suddenly felt a hollow ache.

Reaching over to Warren, she squeezed his thigh. “Will you come in with me?”

“If you want.”

“Sure I want.”

“I guess I could at least come in long enough to make sure everything’s okay...and say hi to Tuck.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Warren laughed.

“I already paid you off. Remember?”

“Maybe you need to pay me off again.”

“Bastard,” Dana said, grinning.

“That’s me.”

“What do I have to give you this time?”

“Surprise me.”

“Okay. Maybe. But not while you’re driving.”

Soon, the house came into sight at the top of the driveway. Its porch was lighted, and so were some of the windows. Spotlights brightened the broad area of pavement in front of the three-car garage. A blue Range Rover was parked there, off to the left.