Her dream had been patterned after the images in the illustrated horror story.  That seemed indisputable.

But she hadn’t read the story until a few minutes ago. That was a fact as well.

Frustrated and angry at herself for her inability to solve the puzzle, she turned from the window. She went back to the bed to have another look at the magazine, which she’d left there.

The gas company workman called from the front of the house, startling Tina. She found him waiting by the front door.

“I’m finished,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know I was going, so you could lock the door behind me.”

“Everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Everything here is in great shape. If there’s a gas leak in this neighborhood, it’s not anywhere on your property.”

She thanked him, and he said he was only doing his job. They both said “Have a nice day,” and she locked the door after he left.

She returned to Danny’s room and picked up the lurid magazine. Death glared hungrily at her from the cover.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she read the story again, hoping to see something important in it that she had overlooked in the first reading.

Three or four minutes later the doorbell rang—one, two, three, four times, insistently. Carrying the magazine, she went to answer the bell. It rang three more times during the ten seconds that she took to reach the front door.

“Don’t be so damn impatient,” she muttered.

To her surprise, through the fish-eye lens, she saw Elliot on the stoop.

When she opened the door, he came in fast, almost in a crouch, glancing past her, left and right, toward the living room, then toward the dining area, speaking rapidly, urgently. “Are you okay? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. What’s wrong with you?” “Are you alone?”

“Not now that you’re here.”

He closed the door, locked it. “Pack a suitcase.” “What?”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here.” “Elliot, is that a gun?”

“Yeah. I was—” “A real gun?”

“Yeah. I took it off the guy who tried to kill me.”

She was more able to believe that he was joking than that he had really been in danger. “What man? When?”

“A few minutes ago. At my place.” “But—”

“Listen, Tina, they wanted to kill me just because I was going to help you get Danny’s body exhumed.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She gaped at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Murder. Conspiracy. Something damn strange. They probably intend to kill you too.” “But that’s—”

“Crazy,” he said. “I know. But it’s true.” “Elliot—”

“Can you pack a suitcase fast?”

At first she half believed that he was trying to be funny, playing a game to amuse her, and she was going to tell him that none of this struck her as funny. But she stared into his dark, expressive eyes, and she knew that he’d meant every word he said.

“My God, Elliot, did someone really try to kill you?” “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, no. But we ought to lie low until we can figure this out.” “Did you call the police?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” “Why not?”

“Maybe they’re part of it somehow.” “Part of it? The cops?”

“Where do you keep your suitcases?” She felt dizzy. “Where are we going?” “I don’t know yet.”

“But—”

“Come on. Hurry. Let’s get you packed and the hell out of here before any more of these guys show up.”

“I have suitcases in my bedroom closet.”

He put a hand against her back, gently but firmly urging her out of the foyer. She headed for the master bedroom, confused and beginning to be frightened. He followed close behind her. “Has anyone been around here this afternoon?” “Just me.”

“I mean, anyone snooping around? Anyone at the door?” “No.”

“I can’t figure why they’d come for me first.”

“Well, there was the gas man,” Tina said as she hurried down the short hall toward the master bedroom.

“The what?”

“The repairman from the gas company.”

Elliot put a hand on her shoulder, stopped her, and turned her around just as they entered the bedroom. “A gas company workman?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I asked to see his credentials.” Elliot frowned. “But it’s a holiday.”

“He was an emergency crewman.” “What emergency?”

“They’ve lost some pressure in the gas lines. They think there might be a leak in this neighborhood.”

The furrows in Elliot’s brow grew deeper. “What did this workman need to see you for?” “He wanted to check my furnace, make sure there wasn’t any gas escaping.”

“You didn’t let him in?”

“Sure. He had a photo ID card from the gas company. He checked the furnace, and it was okay.”

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