4:35.

In less than half an hour, ticket sales would stop for the day.

But the house would remain open until 6:00, giving everyone time to complete the tour.

This could get boring.

She hopped up onto the stool.

Well, I'd rather be bored than have Clyde out here bothering me.

She supposed he was right about one thing, though: how could she spend the summer as a Beast House guide if the place made her feel ill?

I'll just have to get over it, she told herself.

Won't get over it by standing out here in the fresh air and sunlight. Why not go back in for the rest of the afternoon?

It seemed like a good idea.

She reached down for the walkie-talkie on her belt. But instead of pulling it free, she rested her hand on its warm plastic top.

I oughta stick this out. Tuck's already had to change stuff around because of me. Let's not cause any more trouble.

After this, she thought, I'll bring a book to read.

The time passed slowly.

At five o'clock, Clyde closed the ticket booth. He came around the rear corner. "So, have you changed your mind about dinner?"

"Sorry," Dana said.

"Your loss. I'll be taking off, now. One of the perks of working the ticket booth, you get to leave an hour early. Have fun."

Nodding, she said, "Bye."

Clyde winked, stepped past her, then gracefully vaulted the tumstile and headed toward town. Not looking back, he waved.

Immediately, Dana felt a pleasant sense of lightness, of freedom.

Amazing, she thought, how one person can mess up your outlook.

He's gone, now. Enjoy it.

And enjoy it she did. It was one of those great afternoons when the sun is hot but a cool, moist breeze is blowing in from the Pacific. Seagulls squealed. She thought she could smell the ocean and the beach and the candy smell of suntan oil.

She pictured herself strolling barefoot along the beach, Warren by her side.

But if he's gay...

Doesn't mean we can't stroll on the beach together, she told herself.

Sure wouldn't be the same, though.

It made her feel cheated.

It gave her a tight, unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Instead of being eager for six o'clock to arrive, she started to dread it. Because she might have to face Warren, and she would definitely be facing Tuck.

Tuck would know the truth about him.

And Dana wasn't so sure she wanted to find out.

I don't have to ask.

As closing time approached, however, she began to have new worries.

The shelves where she stored the tape players were nearly full. But not quite.

They had three empty spaces.

By six o'clock, the three players had still not been returned.

Chapter Sixteen.

SANDY'S STORY-August, 1980 "I'll go and get a shovel," Harry said. "Why don't you ladies wait for me here?"

"Aren't you afraid we'll leave?" Sandy asked.

"Leave if you want You're not my prisoners. But if you stay, I'll help you bury the guy. And you can spend the night at my place. I think you two could use a little rest."

"Dat's for damn sure," Lib said.

"While I'm gone, maybe you should strip him. We'll take his clothes and stuff back to the cabin with us and bum everything."

"Done this sort of thing before?" Sandy asked.

"Just common sense. His body might get found someday. Better if it can't be identified."

"Yeah, that's probably we," Sandy said.

"Want the flashlight?" Harry asked.

"Don't you need it?"

"I can get by without it." He handed the flashlight to Sandy, then said, "I'll be back in about ten minutes."

"Okay, see you."

"Bring us someting to drink, huh?"

"I'll see what I can find."

After he disappeared into the woods, Sandy could still hear his footsteps for a while. The crackling, crunching sounds finally faded out.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"About what?" Lib asked.

"Him. Harry."

"Yum yum."

tom serious."

"Me, too."

"He's seen Slade. And us."

"Guess he aims to help us."

"Do you really think so?" Sandy asked.

"He's goin' por a shovel."

"Maybe he's going to call the coups."

"Nah," Lib said. "Ip he was gonna do dat, he would ob made us go wit him."

Sandy supposed she was right about that. The guy certainly hadn't acted as if he wanted to have them arrested. He'd actually seemed shocked by their story, and sympathetic. But maybe he'd been too sympathetic, too eager to take their side.

Maybe he had something up his sleeve.

"I tink he's gonna help us bury da bastard."

"Why would he want to do that?" Sandy asked.

"He's a guy. We're a couple ob babes. What da you tink? Probably wants to get in our pants."

"If he tries anything with me," Sandy said, "I'll kill him."

"Well, don't kill him till apter da hole's dug."

"I'll try not to."

"Shine dat light down here," Lib said, and crouched over Slade's body.

Sandy lowered the pale beam.

"Dat's good. You just hold it dare, and I'll strip him."

First, Lib removed Slade's wallet. Hardly giving it a glance, she tossed it to Sandy.

Sandy caught the wallet.

"Myting good in dat, we'll split it pipty-pipty, okay?"

"Sounds fair," Sandy said. She stuffed the wallet into the back pocket of her shorts.

Lib searched the rest of Slade's pockets, but didn't take anything out. Then she removed his boots, his socks, and all the rest of his clothes. She stuffed his socks, underwear and ascot into his boots. After laying out his trousers on the ground, she spread his bloody, torn silk shirt along the legs and rolled them up together.

"Dare," she said.

"Don't forget his wristwatch and rings."

Lib took them. "Dese oughta be wort a pew bucks," she said.

"We'd better just get rid of them."

Standing up, Lib asked, "Gib 'em a toss?"

"Not here. Later."

"Okie-doke." Lib dropped them into the pocket of her Blazing Babes shirt. They made the silk bulge and sag over her left breast.

Sandy swept the flashlight down Slade's body for a final check.

"How da hell many times you stab dis guy?" Lib asked.

"A few."

"Damn sight more dan a pew. Whoo! Hope you don't nebber get mad at me!"

"Just be good to Eric and you won't have to worry about it." Sandy shut off the light.

"Hey, dat boy, he's aces wit me."

Soon, Harry returned. Though he walked in darkness, he carried a lantern. It made quiet squeaking, clinking sounds as it swung by his left side. A shovel and pick ax, resting on his right shoulder, clanked together with each step he took.

"Hello, ladies," he said.