'A new haircut? Say the word, madam, and it is done.'
With a flourish Jack pulled off that hideous wig and shoved it into the pocket of his equally hideous sport coat. She combed her fingers through his tousled hair to straighten it.
'By the way, who picked out your clothes today?'
'Stevie Wonder.'
'I suspected.' She took his arm and they continued toward the stairway. 'You seem to be in a good mood.'
'So far it's been a pretty good day.'
As they walked he told her about how he'd reversed a scam on an Upper East Side psychic. This was the liveliest she'd seen him in months. The old Jack was back, and Gia was glad.
At Menelaus Manor they found a pair of workmen just leaving; apparently they'd been replacing the broken windows.
Charlie welcomed them in. He didn't ask why Gia had come along, and Jack didn't offer an explanation. Anyway, Charlie seemed too taken with Jack's outfit to care.
'Ain't you ragged out!' he said, pointing to the plaid jacket and grinning. 'Oh, you some ragged-out mack today!'
When he finally stopped laughing he said Lyle would meet Jack upstairs instead of in the Channeling Room, which was under repair.
Jack turned to Gia. 'Do you mind waiting here while I go upstairs? Got to talk some business. Only take me a minute.'
'Talk away,' she said. 'I'll just hang here and... look around.'
Jack winked at her and followed Charlie into the hall and up the stairs. When they were gone, Gia casually wandered down the hall and into the kitchen. She poked her head into an adjoining room that held a dismantled TV. The screen was lit, though, showing a Dukakis-for-President ad. Probably the History Channel or a documentary. She went to the rear door and looked out into the backyard: a plot of dry, scrubby grass bordered by a privet hedge. No little girl.
Disappointed, Gia wandered back to the waiting room.
Well, what did she expect, anyway? Still she felt better for coming. She'd made the pilgrimage, now maybe she could stop thinking about that child.
Gia idly picked up one of the Menelaus manor pamphlets to read up on the house again, and a little booklet fell out. The cover read, WHO, ME? with 'By J. T. C.' in the corner. She flipped it over and saw a drawing of a church and the words, 'Fisherman's Club' and 'A Ministry for Laymen.' Published by Chick Publications.
Gia flipped through it and realized immediately that it was a born-again tract exhorting its Christian readers to start 'personal ministries' and become 'soul winners' by bringing nonbelievers to Jesus.
What was it about fundamentalist sects, she wondered, that made them feel they had to get others to believe what they believed? The drive to convert other people to their way of thinking... where did it come from?
A more immediate question: Who was leaving these things here? And what did he or she hope to accomplish? People seeking out spirit mediums like Ifasen had most likely tried out the major religions and rejected them.
She searched through the Menelaus brochures and found another Chick pamphlet called 'This Was Your Life!' As she opened it she heard a child's voice begin to sing.
'I think we're alone now...'
Gia turned and her heart tripped over a beat. There she was-the little blond girl. She stood in the doorway to the hall, her blue eyes bright as she stared at Gia. She wore the same red and white checkered blouse, the same brown riding breeches and boots as yesterday.
'Hello,' Gia said. 'What's your name?'
The girl didn't smile, didn't respond. She kept her hands clasped in front of her as she sang and stared at Gia.
'Do you live around here?'
The song went on. She had a good voice, a sweet tone that stayed on key. But the single-mindedness of the singing was making Gia uncomfortable. As the child went into the verse her hands fluttered to her neckline and began unbuttoning her blouse.
The nape of Gia's neck tightened. 'What are you doing?'
The relentless singing and the blank look in the child's eyes were all disturbing enough. But now this... opening her top...
Was she demented?
'Please don't do that,' Gia said.
The air in the room thickened as the last button popped free of its hole and the child gripped the two edges of the blouse and spread them, revealing a bare flat chest with a wide, ragged red gash down its center-
No-no-no, not a gash, a gaping bloody hole, a gaping bloody empty hole with nothing where her heart should be-
10
Jack was in the middle of describing his doubling back on Madame Pomerol's variation of the Spanish handkerchief scam when he heard Gia's scream. Before he knew he was moving he found himself up and racing for the stairs, leaving behind his rapt audience.
He pounded down to the first floor, his feet barely touching the stairs, and found her in the middle of the waiting room, doubled over, face buried in her hands, sobbing.
Jack spun, saw no one else about, then grabbed her wrists and pulled her to him.
'Gia! What's wrong? What happened?'
Her tear-stained face was the color of a freshly shucked oyster when she looked up at him. 'She had no heart! She opened her blouse and her heart was gone!'
'Who?'
'The little girl!'
'The one you saw yesterday?'
Gia nodded. 'She... she-' Her eyes widened and she pointed toward the hall. 'Look! There's her blood!'
Jack turned just as Lyle and Charlie piled down the stairs. He saw a glistening red trail on the hardwood floor of the hall, saw Charlie's sneaker land in it and slip. Charlie went down but bounced back up again, staring in horror at his bloody hands.
'Blood! Dear Lord, where-?' He looked at Jack. 'Who?'
Lyle, poised on the bottom step, pointed toward the kitchen. 'It runs that way!'
He and Charlie moved down the hall, gingerly sidestepping the red splatters. Instinctively Jack started to follow, but Gia clutched his arm.
'Don't leave me!'
Jack wrapped an arm around her back and held her closer, trying to absorb her Parkinsonian shakes.
'I won't. Don't worry.'
But within him every angry cell was pulling toward the hall to follow that wet red trail. He wanted-needed-to find whoever had frightened Gia like this. He didn't know how they'd done it-faking up a little girl so it looked like she had no heart-and he didn't care. Anyone who terrified Gia like this was going to answer to him.
He watched Lyle and Charlie enter the kitchen and follow the trail to the left, heard Lyle say, 'It goes down the steps.' Jack heard their feet on the cellar stairs, their voices crying out in shock.
'Jack!' Lyle called. 'Jack, you've got to see this! It's... it's...' Words seemed to fail him.
Jack glanced at Gia but she shook her head. 'Don't you leave me alone here! Please!'
He had to see what they were talking about. He turned and called out, 'How about Gia? Is it all right for her?'
'No... yeah... I don't know if it's all right for anyone, but I guess so. Just come quick! I don't know how long it will last!'
