F. Paul Wilson - The Tomb

This was making less and less sense every minute.

"Could your ex be behind this?" he asked as he returned to the kitchen. "Could he be thinking he's going to inherit something if Grace and Nellie disappear?"

"I wouldn't put much past Richard," Gia said, "but I can't see him getting involved in a serious crime. Besides, I happen to know that he's not going to inherit a thing from Nellie."

"But does he know that?"

"I don't know." She glanced around and appeared to shiver. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

"Soon as you're ready."

Gia went upstairs to get Vicky. Before long, mother and daughter were standing in the foyer, Vicky with a little suitcase in one hand and her plastic grape carrying case in the other.

"What's in there?" Jack asked, pointing to the grape.

Vicky held it out of his reach behind her back. "Just my Ms. Jelliroll doll."

"I should have known." At least she's talking to me .

"Can we go now?" Gia said. She had been transformed from a reluctant evictee to someone anxious to be as far away from this house as possible. He was glad for that.

Jack took the large suitcase and led the two of them up to Sutton Place where he hailed a cab and gave the address of Isher Sports.

"I want to get home," Gia said. She was in the middle, Vicky on her left and Jack on her right. "That's in your neighborhood."

"You can't go home," he told her. As she opened her mouth to protest he added: "You can't go to my place, either."

"Then where?"

"I've found a place in Queens."

"Queens? I don't want to—"

"No one'll find you in a million years. Just hang out there for a couple of days until I see if I can put a stop to this."

"I feel like a criminal." Gia put an arm around Vicky and hugged her close.

Jack wanted to hug both of them and tell them they'd be all right, that he'd see to it that nothing ever hurt them. But it would be awkward here in the back seat of a cab, and after his outburst this morning with the orange, he wasn't sure how they'd react.

The cab pulled up in front of Abe's store. Jack ran in and found him at his usual station reading his usual science fiction novel. There was mustard on his tie; poppy seeds peppered his ample shirt front.

"The key's on the counter and so's the address," he said, glancing over his reading glasses without moving from his seat. "This won't be messy, I hope. Already my relationship with Sarah is barely civil."

Jack pocketed the key but kept the address in hand.

"If I know Gia, she'll leave the place spotless."

"If I know my daughter, Gia will have her work cut out for her." He stared at Jack. "I suppose you have some running around to do tonight?"

Jack nodded. "A lot."

"And I suppose you want I should come over and babysit the two ladies while you're out of the apartment? Don't even ask," he said, holding up a hand. "I'll do it."

"I owe you one, Abe," Jack said.

"I'll add it to the list," he replied with a deprecating wave of his hand.

"Do that."

Back in the cab, Jack gave the driver the address of Abe's daughter's apartment. "Take the Midtown Tunnel," he said.

"The bridge is better for where you're going," the cabbie said.

"Take the tunnel," Jack told him. "And go through the park."

"It's quicker around."

"The park. Enter at Seventy-second and head downtown."

The cabbie shrugged. "You're paying for it."

They drove over to Central Park West, then turned into the park. Jack stayed twisted around in his seat the whole way, tensely watching through the back window for any car or cab that followed them. He had insisted on taking the route through the park because it was narrow and winding, curving through the trees and beneath the overpasses. Anyone tailing would want to stay close for fear of losing them.

There was no one following. Jack was sure of that by the time they reached Columbus Circle, but he kept his eyes fixed out the rear window until they reached the Queens Midtown Tunnel.

As they slid into that tiled fluorescent gullet, Jack faced front and allowed himself to unwind. The East River was above them, Manhattan was rapidly falling behind. Soon he'd have Gia and Vicky lost in the mammoth beehive of apartments called Queens. He was putting the whole island of Manhattan between Kusum and his intended victims. Kusum would never find them. With that worry behind him, Jack would be free to concentrate his efforts on finding a way to deal with the crazy Indian.

Right now, however, he had to mend his relationship with Vicky, who was sitting on the far side of her mother with her big plastic grape sitting in her lap. He began by leaning around Gia and making the kind of faces mothers always tell their children not to make because you never know when your face'll get stuck that way.

Vicky tried to ignore him but soon was laughing and crossing her eyes and making faces, too.

"Stop that, Vicky!" Gia said. "Your face could get stuck that way!"

5

Vicky was glad Jack was acting like his old self. He had frightened her this morning with his yelling and grabbing her orange and throwing it away. That had been mean. He had never done anything like that before. Not only had it frightened her, but her feelings had been hurt. She had got over being scared right away, but her feelings had remained hurt until now. Silly Jack. He was making her laugh. He just must have been grouchy this morning.

Vicky shifted her Ms. Jelliroll Carry Case on her lap. There was room in it for the doll and extra things like doll clothes.

Vicky had something extra in there now. Something special. She hadn't told Jack or Mommy that she had found two oranges in the playhouse. Jack had thrown the first away. But the second was in her carry case, safely hidden beneath the doll clothes. She was saving that for later and not telling anybody. That was only right. It was her orange. She had found it, and she wasn't going to let anybody throw it away.

6

Apartment 1203 was hot and stuffy. The stale smell of cigarette smoke had become one with the upholstery, rugs, and wallpaper. Dust bunnies under the front room coffee table were visible from the door.

So this was the hide-out: Abe's daughter's place.

Gia had met Abe briefly once. He hadn't looked too neat —had little bits of food all over him, in fact. Like father, like daughter, apparently.

Jack went to the big air conditioner in the window. "Could use some of this."

"Just open the windows," Gia told him. "Let's get a change of air in here. "

Vicky was prancing around, swinging her grape carry case, delighted to be in a new place. Non-stop chatter:

"Are we staying here Mommy how long are we staying is this going to be my room can I sleep in this bed? ooh look how high we are you can see the Umpire State Building over there and there's Chrysler's building it's my favorite 'cause it's pointy and silvery at the top… "

And on and on. Gia smiled at the memory of how hard she had worked coaxing Vicky to say her first words, how she had agonized over the completely unfounded notion that her daughter might never speak. Now she wondered if she would ever stop.

Once the windows on both sides of the apartment were open, the wind began to flow through, removing all the old trapped odors and bringing in new ones.

"Jack, I've got to clean this place up if I'm going to stay here. I hope no one minds."

"No one'll mind," he said. "Just let me make a couple of calls and I'll help you."

Gia located the vacuum cleaner while he dialed and listened, then dialed again. Either it was busy or he got no answer, because he hung up without saying anything.

They spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning the apartment. Gia took pleasure in the simple tasks of scouring the sink, cleaning the counters, scrubbing the inside of the refrigerator, washing the kitchen floors, vacuuming the rugs. Concentrating on the minutiae kept her mind off the formless threat she felt hanging over Vicky and herself.