Jack let Gia sleep in as he got up early, intending to run back to Astoria to see what he could do for Lyle. But a quick listen to the news changed his plans. “The Horror in Astoria” was all over the radio. He flipped on the TV and that was all any of the local newsheads could talk about.
Gia came down in a light yellow terry cloth robe, looking tired and worn but so much better after a shower and some sleep.
He kissed her and held her and said, “I was hoping you’d sleep in.”
“I woke up and started thinking about last night.” She shuddered against him. “How can I sleep when I remember how Charlie—?” She bit her lip and shook her head. Then she looked up at him and touched his throat. “This still looks sore. And that eye …”
“I’ll be fine.”
He’d told her about trading Bellitto for her and Charlie and how one of Bellitto’s friends had tried to choke him, but had decided against mentioning the fax that had targeted Vicky. She’d already had enough shocks to her system.
She stiffened and pointed to the TV. “Say, isn’t that—?”
“Yeah. Menelaus Manor. Looks like Lyle called the cops.”
Jack surfed from channel to channel until he found a newshead with the good grace to summarize the developing story.
“For those of you just tuning in, here’s what we know so far. At 1:37 A.M. this morning the police received an emergency call from Lyle Kenton, owner of the house in Astoria you see pictured here, saying that he’d returned
home after a night out to find his brother Charles dead in a ditch they’d been digging in their cellar. The ditch had apparently collapsed and smothered him.
“Why were they digging a ditch in their cellar? you ask. Good question. Here’s where the story veers into the Twilight Zone. Lyle Kenton claims to be a spirit medium who ‘practices’ under the name Ifasen. He states he and his brother were contacted by a spirit who called herself ‘Tara Portman’ and claimed she had been murdered and buried in the basement by a previous owner. For the past few days, Lyle and Charles had been digging up the cellar, trying to find her remains. Last night their excavation collapsed, trapping Charles. When the police arrived, Lyle had dug his brother out but it was too late.
“If that were the whole story it would be sensational enough. But it gets stranger. The police did a little digging themselves and have so far unearthed the skeletons of two children. They are looking for more.
“The police want to make it very clear that Mr. Kenton is not a suspect. He has lived in the house less than a year and the remains found in the cellar so far appear to have been there much longer.
“Back to you, Chet …”
Jack surfed on, looking for mention of Eli Bellitto, but his name never came up. Where was he? What had Tara done with him? He hoped it hadn’t ended quickly for him.
He clicked off the set. “The barrier must have come down some time after we left.”
“Poor Lyle,” Gia said. “I feel so bad that we left him to deal with this alone.”
The three of them had waited together for the barrier to fall, but after an hour or so, Gia started to get the chills and shakes. Jack had needed to get her home and offered Lyle a bed for the night. Lyle told them go, he’d wait here. Jack promised to come back in the morning.
“Alone is the only way he can deal with it. We can’t show our faces—at least I can’t. And no reason you should. We can’t add anything.”
“We could be there for him. He and his brother seemed so close.”
“They had their differences, I can tell you that, but there was a bond there, beyond blood. They’d been through a lot together.”
“I’m glad he called in the police, though. They’ll find the rest of the bodies. Then the families of those poor children will be able to bury what’s left of them and have some closure.”
Her gaze seemed to drift.
“Thinking of Tara’s father?”
She nodded. “I wonder if burying Tara will change things for him and his son.” She sighed. “Somehow I doubt it. I think they’ve been pushed too far off track to get back on.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Jack said. “Why don’t we get out of town, say, drive up to Monticello and visit Vicky at camp?”
“But she’s coming home tomorrow.”
Jack knew that, but from the brightening of Gia’s expression he could tell she loved the idea. After her ordeal with Tara, seeing her little girl would be just the tonic she needed.
“Even better. You and I can find a motel, stay over tonight, take her out for breakfast in the morning at this neat old-fashioned diner I know, then we’ll drive her back ourselves. It’ll be fun.”
Gia smiled. “Okay. I think I’d like that. When do we leave?”
Jack repressed a sigh of relief. He’d been looking for a way to get up to Vicky’s camp without alarming Gia. This was it. Last night, when Gia was in the shower, he’d made a couple of calls, one of them an anonymous tip to the camp warning them that one of the children—he didn’t name the child—was in danger of being abducted in a custody dispute. He placed the same call to the Monticello police department, suggesting extra patrols around the camp.
With its leader dead, Bellitto’s circle was a snake without a head. But even so, it wasn’t enough for Jack. He wouldn’t rest easy until he’d seen Vicky and placed her under his protection.
Gia too. She’d told Jack what Tara had said: It wants you dead. Who knew if Tara was telling the truth, but Jack had to assume she was. “It” could only mean the Otherness. What was it trying to do? Wipe out everyone he cared about?
That gut-wrenching thought had kept him awake most of the night. How do you fight something you can’t see, that works so far behind the scenes you can never reach it?
The only thing he could think of was to circle the wagons and keep Gia and Vicky close by.
“You pack up some things while I run a few errands, and we’ll get going soon as I get back. Make a day of it.”
“What kind of errands?” she said, serious again.
“Just a stop by Julio’s. Need to check out something with one of the regulars.”