"No, really. I think it'd be best if you don't read any of the thing while I'm still working on it. It'd make me too self-conscious."

"Oh, bull."

"I mean it."

"What about my input? Maybe you forgot some stuff."

"I'll give you a copy when it's finished. If there's any-thing you want added or changed, I can revise it then. Okay?"

"That's kind of late in the ball game," he said, frowning slightly.

"You want me to write the thing, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure. But-"

"I can't do it if I have to pass every chapter along to you for inspection as I go along. I'll quit right now-"

"Jeez, don't get in a huff. Do it your way. I'm just curious, is all."

"Well, that's all right," Larry said, relieved that he had backed off.

"I didn't mean to get testy about it."

"What's a testi between friends," Pete said, and smiled. "Anyway, it's going pretty good?"

"I think so."

"What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, I need to do those revisions."

"I guess we've gotta start thinking about how we break the news to the women," Pete said. "Jean'll be home tonight, won't she?"

"Yeah. Tonight."

"Should we just walk her and Barb out to the garage and show them? Or work up to it more gradually?"

" 'Guess what we brought home Saturday night?' "

"Something like that."

"Suppose we just keep the whole thing secret?"

"Are you kidding?"

Larry shook his head. "They won't let us keep a body around. No way. I don't care what we tell them, they'll make us get rid of it."

"They've got to find out sooner or later."

"Let's wait. We can tell them about it when everything's set to pull the stake. By then the book'll be almost done."

"Yeah. 'Course, they might give us shit about pulling the stake."

"Good point."

"No pun intended," Pete said.

Larry frowned for a moment, thinking. "Okay. Let's pull the stake and then tell them what we've done. After the fact. By that time it'll be too late for the gals to screw things up for us."

Pete grinned. "Man, will they be pissed!"

"That's for sure. The book's bound to find a publisher, though. Best- seller or not, I'm sure we'll be seeing a pretty good chunk of money from it. That should get us out of the doghouse."

"Maybe they don't have to find out about it," Pete said, "until you make the sale."

"If we work it right. What we have to do is hide the thing better.

Right now, anybody wandering into the garage might stumble onto it."

"We use our garage."

"I know, I know," Larry said. He was well aware that Pete and Barbara often parked their cars in it, while he and Jean only used their garage for storage.

"There's a crawl space under our house," Pete said. "I suppose we could shove the casket under there. If we do it quick before Barb gets back from the store. We'd have to lift it over the fence. Wouldn't wanta be seen lugging it around the front."

"Not necessary," Larry said. "I know just the place to stash the thing."

Should've put it there in the first place, he thought. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up spending the night with it.

"Where?" Pete asked.

"Come on. We'll take care of it right now."

They went out the kitchen door and walked up the driveway to the garage. Its bay door was still open. As they entered the shade, Larry hoped that the wet spot on the floor had dried.

Must've, he told himself.

A few yards beyond the door was a square wooden plat-form half a foot high. Larry stepped onto it, reached up and caught hold of a dangling rope. He pulled the rope's knotted end. A plywood ceiling panel swung down on hinges.

"All right," Pete said. "A trapdoor."

Fixed to its top was a ladder folded into three sections. Larry lowered the ladder until the shoes of its side rails rested firmly against the platform.

"Gonna be a bitch getting our stiff up there," Pete said.

He was right. Though the ladder stood at an angle like a flight of stairs, it was much steeper than a stairway.

"It's the perfect place," Larry told him. "Nobody's going to find her."

He stepped aside. Pete climbed to the top and looked around.

"Yeah," he said. "Great if we can manage it." He started down. "How come you don't use it for storage?"

"Never got around to it."

"Pretty neat up there. Floorboards and everything. Hotter than shit, though." He grinned. "Guess our friendly local vampire won't mind, huh?"

"Probably not."

They stepped off the platform. Larry led the way toward the far corner of the garage.

"Almost need a map to find the thing," Pete said.

I can find it in the dark.

"We're almost there."

Larry slipped through the passage between stacks of boxes and entered the small open area near the corner.

The concrete had dried.

The blanket lay heaped on the floor beside the coffin.

No!

He'd raced from the garage, near panic after dealing with the arm, and had totally forgotten to cover the body.

Now it was too late.

Pete appeared at his side, stepped forward and picked up the blanket.

Larry felt as if his skin were on fire.

"Been checking her out, huh?"

Deny it?

Pretend you don't know how the blanket got on the floor?

Pete's no idiot. He'd spot that lie in an instant.

"Yeah," Larry said, trying to sound lecherous. "Just had to. She's such a doll I just couldn't help myself."

"Can't blame you. What a mug. What a bod."

"Gives a new definition to feminine pulchritude."

"Gives a new definition to ugly," Pete said.

"Seriously, though, I did have to take a look at her yesterday.

Research. Came time to describe her for the book, and I wanted to get it right."

"Right, sure." It was apparent from his tone that Pete believed the story. He shook open the blanket and spread it over the corpse, covering Bonnie from her shoulders to her ankles. Then he bent down again and pulled it up to hide her face. "That's better," he muttered.

"Why don't I take the front?" he suggested.

They lifted the coffin and carried it back through the garage.

"I'll go first," Pete said. "Should work better that way, since you're taller. Try to keep your end high."

He started up the ladder backward, moving slowly. As the box tipped upward, Bonnie slid toward Larry until the casket stopped her feet. The blanket dropped away from her face.

Larry raised his end of the box. Bracing it against his chest, he stepped closer to the ladder. The front kept rising. The blanket slipped down. The stake caught it, and the blanket hung from the wooden shaft like a cape tossed over a wall hook.

When Larry reached the base of the ladder, he realized he wouldn't be able to climb with the coffin pressing against his chest. "Wait," he called.

Pete stopped.

Larry lowered it to his waist.

"Okay."

Pete resumed climbing.

Larry mounted the ladder's first rang. Bonnie stood almost vertical inside the coffin.

"Oh, boy," Larry muttered.

"You okay?"

"So far."

"I'm just about there."

Larry shoved the casket upward with his knee, planted the toe of his shoe on the next rung and tried to rise. His foot slipped. As it dropped to the rang below, he lost his grip. The bottom edge of the casket pounded the ladder.

"Shit!" Pete yelled.

Larry grabbed the box's sides.

Something moved above him. He looked up.

He shouted, "No!"

Bonnie, standing rigid, teetered forward and plunged straight down at him.

It seemed to happen very slowly. The blanket fell from the stake and drifted toward her feet. Her dull blond hair flowed behind her head. Her right arm stayed tight against her side, but her left arm swayed down from the elbow as if reaching for him. Her mouth seemed to be stretched into a delighted grin.