"Do you always park all the way over here?" Dana asked as they climbed out.

"Yep."

"You can't get any farther away from the gate."

"I could've dropped you off back there."

"That's all right," Dana said. They met behind the Jeep and started walking toward the gate. "It just seems like a funny place to park. You are the boss. You can park wherever you like."

"I like my corner. For one thing, my car's tucked safely out of the way where nobody is likely to bang it up. The main thing, though-I don't want to be taking a good parking spot away from the paying customers."

"That's very considerate."

Tuck grinned. "Just good business."

"No wonder Janice has you running things."

"It's probably just because I'm the daughter of her husband. When you have a family business, you try to have family running it. Nobody else cares as much, and a lot of employees will rip you off if they get half a chance."

Side by side, they walked through the gate. Turning to the right, they followed the sidewalk toward the ticket booth and entrance.

A car coming toward them on Front Street slowed down. Its left turn signal started to blink. Dana glimpsed a couple of adults in front, two or three kids in the back seat. Looking over her shoulder, she saw it turn through the gate of the parking lot.

"First customers of the day," Tuck said.

"What time do you open the ticket booth?"

"Ten on the nose."

Tuck turned aside before getting there, and started to unlock the entrance gate.

"Will I be selling tickets?" Dana asked.

"I thought I'd start you off today inside the house."

"Fine."

Tuck opened the gate. As soon as they were both inside, she shut it. Then they started up the walkway toward Beast House.

Dana tried not to look at the place. When Tuck had brought her here yesterday, she'd spent too long gazing at it, too long thinking about it. Ending up with a bad case of the creeps, she had almost refused to go in.

Can't let it get to me. It's just a house.

"We have regulars who handle the gift shop and snack bar," Tuck explained, "so you won't be involved in any of that. The guides basically have five different jobs: running the ticket booth, handing out and collecting the tape players, downstairs monitor, upstairs monitor, and supervisor."

"That's you?"

"That's me. I'm basically in charge of the whole operation, and spend most of the day just wandering around, looking out for problems, trying to be friendly and helpful to our guests. I'm the person you'll come to if you have any trouble or questions.

"I thought you might start off as the upstairs monitor. Tomorrow, you'll have a different job. You'll be alternating on a daily basis with the other guides. It's very flexible, though. People do a lot of trading. The only thing you can't trade on is bus tour guide. I suppose that's job number six, but I don't really count it. It's Patty's job. She lives in San Francisco, shows up here at about ten-thirty with a bus-load of tourists, wanders around being friendly and eating hot dogs, then takes off again at one-thirty and doesn't come back again till the next day. She's the only staff member you didn't get a chance to meet yesterday."

They started to climb the porch stairs.

Dana suddenly felt a sinking sensation in her stomach, a weakness in her legs.

She turned her head to avoid looking at the hanged man.

It's all right, she told herself. Calm down. He's just a dummy. Nothing's going to happen.

She wiped her hands on the legs of her uniform shorts, and took a deep breath.

At the top of the six wooden stairs, Tuck smiled at her. "Are you okay?"

"A little nervous, I guess."

"Nobody's been killed here in years," Tuck assured her. Then, grinning, she added, "Nobody that we know about, anyhow."

They stepped across the porch. As Tuck unlocked the front door, Dana noticed the brass knocker. A monkey's paw. It must've been there yesterday, but she didn't remember seeing it.

"You'll do fine," Tuck told her.

"I hope so. The house is kind of creepy."

"It's supposed to be."

"I guess I'll get used to it."

"I'm sure you will," Tuck said, and swung the door open. As they walked in, she said, "If you'd rather start with an outside job..."

"pstairs monitor will be fine. The sooner I get used to working inside, the better."

Tuck shut the front door, then leaned back against it. She slipped her hands casually into the front pockets of her shorts, crossed her ankles, and said, "It's a pretty simple job, as work goes. Your main function will just be to wander around upstairs and keep an eye on things. There'll be a fairly steady stream of tourists all day. You need to make sure everyone behaves, nobody touches the exhibits. Common sense stuff. It's mostly a security and public relations job."

"What if there is trouble?"

"It's usually nothing more than kids acting up. Just tell them politely but firmly to behave themselves-same as you'd do if they were screwing around when you were on duty at the pool. But you'll have a walkie-talkie on your belt if anything serious happens. The rest of us'll drop everything and come running."

"What sort of serious stuff might I expect?"

"Shootouts."

"What?"

Tuck laughed. "Naw. But any time you've got large numbers of people, things'll go wrong. A fight might break out. It's rare, but it happens. More often, we'll have somebody get indignant or outraged about the exhibits. I guess they didn't know what they were getting themselves into. They might need to be calmed down or escorted out. Also, we've had people sort of flip out once in a while."

"Oh, great."

"We call them flippers."

"Cute."

"I guess they're having what you might call panic attacks. It's an old place and smells a little musty. The hallways are sort of long and narrow. The exhibits are gory. The people are listening to some creepy, nasty stuff on their earphones. It apparently just overwhelms some of them, especially on a busy day when there might be some conjestion in the rooms and hallways. You'll have flippers, fainters and barfers every so often."

"It's sounding more fun all the time."

"Not as much fun as the heart attacks."

"You get heart attacks?"

"I don't, they do. Not often, though."

"God almighty."

"Where's the sweat, lifeguard?"

"I never thought I'd have to be giving CPR in a tourist attraction."

"Think of Beast House as a big, dry swimming pool. Mostly, people just have fun. But we do have our emergencies from time to time. The trick is, get to the problem people before they go over the edge. They're easy to spot. Pale, sweaty faces, glassy eyes. Or instead of pale, they might be really flushed. Heavy breathing-that could mean trouble, too. When you spot somebody like that, lead him outside. They're usually fine as soon as they get into the fresh air. But don't be afraid to use the walkie-talkie. I'll be on the other end. If the problem is more than we can handle, I'll call for an ambulance or the cops or whatever we might need. They usually get here fast."

Dana nodded.

"When there aren't problems," Tuck went on, "things can be a little dull for the floor monitors. The visitors will be getting the tour information through their headsets, so you don't have any sort of spiel. You'll just need to field questions."

"Like 'where's the bathroom?'"

"That's the most frequently asked question. You remember where they are?"

"Out behind the house in the snack shop area. Can't miss them."

"Excellent!"

"You ain't dealing with a chimp."

"Perhaps a moose..."

"Hey hey hey. Good thing I'm not sensitive about my size."

"Hell, you love your size."

"Allows me to intimidate shrimps like you."

"Can't touch me, I'm the boss. Anyway, I'm sure you'll be fine answering questions. Big, smart college girl like you."

"That's me."

"You read both the books..."

"Studied them."

"So you shouldn't have any trouble answering questions about the beast, and so forth. They will ask questions. If you don't know the answer to something, tell the person to see me. I'm the resident expert. If I don't know it, it ain't known." She grinned.

"And you're modest."

"I'm all things wonderful. Any questions?"

"About your wonderfulness, or...?"

"Oh, the job."

"I guess I'll have plenty as things come up, but..."

"Hey, I'd better warn you about something before I forget. As guides, our official position on the beast's weenie is that we can't discuss it."

"People ask about it?"

"All the time."

"Oh, great."

"Some are genuinely curious and figure we've got the inside scoop. But some of them just want to watch us squirm. A lot of guys think it's a real hoot."

"But I'm not supposed to confirm or deny?"

"Right. Suggest they either sign up for the Midnight Tour, or read the books."

"And push the Midnight Tour?" Dana asked, grinning.

"Yes! Please! My God! At every opportunity!"

"Is it any good?"

"Is it any good? It's great! I'm great! And I tell all! Besides which, people haven't experienced Beast House until they've been here at midnight."

"Can't wait."

"Oh, you'll love it."

"Sure I will."

Tuck laughed, then asked, "Ready to go?"

"Go where?"

"This way." She uncrossed her ankles, pushed off from the door with her rump, and headed across the foyer toward the parlor. "I always do a quick walk-through first thing in the morning before we open her up...make sure everything's the way it ought to be. We don't want to have any surprises."

Dana followed her into the parlor.

"Top of the morning to you, Ethel," Tuck greeted the body on the floor. "I hope you enjoyed a comfortable...uh-oh. What the hell?"