stroked her face, the fingers fluttering against her cheek. As he caressed her and sobbed, he slowly seemed to calm down.
He started to murmur “Oh, my God” over and over again.
Lane kept whispering “It’s all right.”
After a while he said, “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“I think you were walking in your sleep.”
“She made me. She brought me here. Oh, my God. Did I pull the stake?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, God.”
The hand went away from her face. She felt him lean forward.
“What’re you doing?”
She felt a shudder pass through him.
“Dad?”
“It’s still there. Thank God.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“How could I
“It’s all right, Dad. Let’s just try and get down without breaking our necks.” She let go of him and turned around. Dad kept a hand low on her back.
“Be careful, sweetheart.”
“You, too.”
The opening was a gray rectangle. His hand went away. She heard him moving, climbing off the coffin as she sat down and swung her legs toward the dim gap. “Why don’t you wait up here till I can turn on the garage light?”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said.
He sounded almost like Dad.
Lane scooted forward. She lowered her legs until her heels found a rung of the ladder.
“You okay?” Dad asked.
“Yeah.” Gripping the side rails, she pushed herself off the attic floor. She climbed down slowly, her back to the ladder, rungs rubbing against her buttocks and dragging open her robe until nothing covered her front except the cloth belt loose against her belly.
She hoped Dad couldn’t see her.
For a moment she pictured herself lying naked in the coffin up there, Dad sitting above her with that light.
Lane’s feet found the wooden platform. She thrust herself away from the ladder, stood up straight and tied her robe shut before turning around.
Dad came down facing the other way. When he reached the platform, he folded the ladder, took hold of the dangling rope and swung the trapdoor up. It shut with a soft bump.
He stepped down. Lane went to him and put an arm around his back. He hugged her against his side.
Together they walked to the house.
“I guess we need to talk,” he said.
“What’s that thing doing in our garage?”
“It’s a long story. Why don’t you make a pot of coffee? I’ll go and get your mother.”
“You’re going to tell Mom?”
“Yeah. I think I’d better.”
“If you’re afraid I’ll snitch...”
“No, it isn’t that. I’ve gotta tell her what’s going on.”
He left the kitchen. Lane threw out the used filter, put a fresh one into the machine’s plastic basket, added coffee grounds and slipped the basket into place. She poured water into the top of the brewer. She thumbed the on switch. A red light came on. She gazed at it.
Understatement of the fucking year, she thought.
Forty
He sat on the edge of the bed and shook Jean gently by the shoulder. Groaning, she rolled over. She squinted up at him. “Huh? Wha’s...”
“You need to get up,” Larry said.
Suddenly she looked alarmed and wide awake. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not a fire or anything. Nobody’s hurt. We just need to talk.”
“Oh, my God. What? Tell me!”
“Lane’s waiting in the kitchen.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. This is about me. I’ll explain everything in a few minutes.”
Jean sat up. She had a strange look in her eyes. A look of pain and fear. She caught her lower lip between her teeth.
“Don’t get all upset,” Larry said.
“Are you leaving us?”
“No, no. God, no.” A strap of her nightgown had slipped off, baring her shoulder and right breast. Larry curled his hand over the breast and kissed her mouth.
Pulling her head back, she stared into his eyes. “You’re having an affair?”
“No. I love you, Jean.” He lifted the strap onto her shoulder and kissed her again. Her arms went around him. She hugged him fiercely. “Come on now. Lane’s waiting.” She released him.
Larry stood up. He waited while she climbed out of bed and put on her bathrobe. Then he took her hand and led her from the room. As he entered the kitchen he smelled the comfortable aroma of coffee.
“It’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” Lane said. She exchanged a rather sick-looking smile with Jean.
“Do you know what this is all about?” Jean asked.
“Not really.”
They both faced Larry. “Go ahead and sit down,” he said.
They sat at the table. Larry stood behind his chair and gripped its back. To Jean he said, “Do you remember that body we found?”
“What about it?”
He looked at Lane. “When your mother and I were out exploring in the desert with Pete and Barbara, we found a body in an abandoned hotel in Sagebrush Flat. That’s a ghost town about fifty...”
“That’s where you found
“Yeah.”
Jean frowned. “I thought we agreed not to tell Lane...”
“I didn’t tell her.” He felt a grimace twisting his face. Here goes, he thought. He took a deep breath. “Lane saw it. Tonight. It’s up in our garage attic.”
Jean gaped at him. The color drained from her face. In a low voice she said, “You’re kidding.”
“Pete and I went out and brought it back with us. While you two were in Los Angeles.”
