The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

That settles it, she thought. Vicky's been here long enough.

The child needed her friends—real, live, flesh-and-blood friends. With nothing else to occupy her time, she’d been getting too involved with these dolls. Now they were even in her dreams.

'What do you say we go home tomorrow? I think we've stayed here long enough.'

'I like it here. And Aunt Nellie will be lonely.'

'She'll have Eunice back in the morning. And besides, I have to get back to my work.'

'Can't we stay a little longer?'

'We'll see.'

Vicky pouted. ''We'll see' Whenever you say 'we'll see' it ends up meaning 'no.' '

'Not always,' Gia said with a laugh, knowing that Vicky was right. The child was getting too sharp for her. 'But we'll see. Okay?'

Reluctantly: 'Okay.'

She put Vicky back between the covers. As she went to the door to switch off the light she thought of Nellie in the bedroom below. She could not imagine anyone sleeping through Vicky's screams, yet Nellie had not called up to ask what was wrong. Gia turned on the hall light and leaned over the banister. Nellie's door was open and her bedroom dark. It didn't seem possible she could still be asleep.

Uneasy now, Gia started down the stairs.

'Where're you going, Mommy?' Vicky asked with a frightened voice from the bed.

'Just down to Aunt Nellie's room for a second. I'll be right back.'

Poor Vicky, she thought. She really got a scare.

Gia stood at Nellie's door. All was dark and still within. Nothing out of the ordinary except an odor...a faint whiff of putrefaction. Nothing to fear, yet she was afraid. Hesitantly, she tapped on the doorjamb.

'Nellie?'

No answer.

'Nellie, are you all right?'

When only silence answered, she reached inside the door, found the light switch, but hesitated, afraid of what she might find. Nellie wasn't young. What if she’d died in her sleep? She seemed to be in good health, but you never knew. And that odor, faint as it was, made her to think of death. Finally she could wait no longer. She flipped the switch.

The bed was empty. It obviously had been slept in—the pillow was rumpled, the covers pulled down—but no sign of Nellie. Gia stepped around to the far side, walking as if she expected something to rise out of the rug and attack her. No Nellie lying on the floor. Gia turned to the bathroom. It stood open and empty.

Frightened now, she ran downstairs, going from room to room, turning on all the lights in each, calling Nellie's name over and over. She headed back upstairs, checking Grace's empty room on the second floor, and the other guestroom on the third.

Empty. All empty.

Nellie was gone-just like Grace!

Gia stood in the hall, shivering, fighting panic, unsure of what to do. She and Vicky were alone in a house from which people disappeared without a sound or a trace

Vicky!

Gia rushed to their bedroom. The light was still on. Vicky lay curled up under the sheet, sound asleep. Thank God! She sagged against the doorframe, relieved yet still afraid. What to do now? She went out to the phone on the hall table. She had Jack's number and he’d said to call if she needed him. But he was in South Jersey and couldn't be here for hours. Gia wanted somebody here now. She didn't want to stay alone with Vicky in this house for a minute longer than she had to.

With a trembling finger she dialed 911 for the police.

12

'You still renting in the city?'

Jack nodded. 'Yep.'

His father grimaced and shook his head. 'That's like throwing your money away.'

Jack had changed into the shirt and slacks he’d brought along, and now they were back at the house after a late, leisurely dinner at a Mount Holly seafood restaurant. They sat in the living room sipping Jack Daniel's in near- total darkness, the only light washing in from the adjoining dining room.

'You're right, Dad. No argument there.'

'I know houses are ridiculously expensive these days, and a guy in your position really doesn't need one, but how about a condo? Get hold of something you can build up equity in.'

Not a new subject. Dad would go on about the tax benefits of owning your own home while Jack lied and hedged, unable to say that tax deductions were irrelevant to a man who didn't pay them.

'I don't know why you stay in that city, Jack. Not only have you got federal and state taxes, but the goddamn city sticks its hand in your pocket, too.'

'My business is there.'

His father stood up and took both glasses into the dining room for refills.