The Midnight Tour

“This is nuts.”

They started slowly down the stairs.

“Ever since you got here,” Tuck said, “it’s been one thing after another.”

“Maybe I brought it with me.”

Tuck grinned at her. “Maybe you did.”

“Do you think we should call Eve?”

“Nah. At least not till we’ve had a good look around. We can’t be bugging her with every little thing. Especially when we don’t know what’s happening.”

“I can tell you what happened,” Dana said as they stepped off the bottom stair. “Somebody opened and shut a door. It wasn’t me and you say it wasn’t you.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“So somebody else must’ve done it.”

Tuck made a face at her.

“He or she,” Dana said, “was either leaving the house or coming in.”

“If he’s in here now,” Tuck said, “he’d better get ready to catch a bullet.”

Side by side, they searched the entire ground level of the house. Then they returned upstairs and searched every room.

They found no one. They found nothing to suggest that a stranger had been present earlier. All the windows and doors were intact, shut and locked.

As they went downstairs again, Tuck grinned at Dana and said, “At least nobody tampered with the dummies.”

Dana frowned at her, confused. “The dummies? Oh!” Laughing, she said, “Maybe, maybe not. Who knows what might’ve gone on while the dummies were sleeping?”

Tuck grimaced at her. “That’s a comforting thought.” At the bottom of the stairs, she said, “Anyway, I’ll brew up some coffee. It’s still pretty early. You have time for that swim, if you want.”

“You going in?”

“Not me,” Tuck said. “But help yourself.”

As they walked toward the kitchen, Dana said, “we’d better stick together. He might still be in the house.”

“Not likely,” Tuck said. “Nobody can hide from me. I would’ve found him.”

“You didn’t exactly find the guy in Beast House yesterday.”

Grinning, Tuck nudged Dana with her elbow. “We got two out of three. That ain’t bad.” In the kitchen, she set her revolver on the table. She walked over to a cupboard, reached up and swung open its door. “Besides,” she said, “who knows? Maybe there wasn’t anybody to find. Some jerk might’ve stolen that tape player.” As she reached high for the coffee filters, her pajama shirt glided up, baring the lower half of her buttocks. “In which case, there is no missing customer.” She took down a filter and turned around. “If there is someone missing, he isn’t in Beast House. We would’ve found him.”

“If you say so,” Dana said.

“I say so. And there’s nobody here, either. Not anymore.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I’m right.” Tuck went to the refrigerator, opened it, and took out a can of ground coffee. Swinging the door shut, she stepped over to the coffee maker.

“I bet he was on his way out when I heard the door,” Dana said. “He probably locked it, then slid it shut behind him.”

Tuck nodded and started scooping heaps of coffee into the filter. Glancing over her shoulder at Dana, she said, “Or maybe nobody was here, at all.”

“I guess that’s possible. I heard something, though. If it wasn’t anybody coming or going...God knows. I didn’t imagine it.”

“It might’ve been something else.”

“Such as?”

“I have no idea,” Tuck said. She shook her head. “I sure hate to think it really was someone leaving the house. I mean, if it was... Who was it? How long was he inside with us? What the hell did he do while he was in here? How did he get in? And how do we keep him out from now on?”

“I have no idea,” Dana said. “On all counts.”

As they drove up Front Street approaching Beast House, Dana pointed at an old blue Ford Granada parked at the curb.

“What about that?” she asked.

Tuck turned her head. The wind threw ribbons of blond hair across her face. “What about it?”

“It was parked there when we drove home yesterday.”

“Was it?”

“Yep. Sure was. I used to have a boyfriend with a car like that.”

“Ah.” Tuck grinned at her. “This boyfriend? Did he appear to have stalker tendencies?”

“No. Anyway, his car was green. But it’s about the same, otherwise. That’s why I noticed it so much yesterday.”

Slowing her Jeep, Tuck flicked the turn signal. “So you think exactly what?”

“Maybe it belongs to the missing tourist.”

“Might belong to anyone,” Tuck said. She eased her car to the right and rolled to a stop in front of the parking lot’s gate. “Back in a minute.” She took the keys, hopped out and trotted up to the gate.

Dana looked around.

The parking lot was empty.

Off to the left of the gate, however, several people were milling about on the sidewalk, apparently waiting for the ticket booth to open.

They hadn’t parked in the Beast House lot.

If they’d come by car, they’d parked elsewhere. Along Front Street, more than likely.

Maybe one of these people owned the Granada.

But it had been parked there yesterday—in exactly the same spot.

So what? Maybe it belongs to a repeat customer.

Eve Chaney, she remembered, had warned them to watch out for repeaters.

She scanned the group.

And caught a guy staring at her.

He began to turn his head away, then seemed to change his mind. Facing Dana, he smiled slightly and nodded. Then he turned away.

Do I know him?

He looked vaguely familiar—gawky and freckled, probably about her own age, with a shock of light brown hair that swept up from his scalp making him look like a human Woody Woodpecker.

His short-sleeved, Madras shirt was neatly tucked in. He wore tan trousers and brown leather hiking boots.

This isn’t how he was dressed yesterday, Dana thought.

The boots and trousers might be the same, but he’d been wearing a different shirt. Cream colored.

And he’d been with a snotty-looking brunette.

Dana scanned the group. The girl didn’t seem to be there.

Tuck dropped into the driver’s seat, pulled the door shut, and started the engine. “I wouldn’t get too excited about that Ford. You know? It might belong to anyone.” She drove into the parking lot.

“It might belong to the guy who vanished yesterday with the tape player.”

“But not necessarily.”