“What’re you waiting for?” Pete asked. “Losing the ol‘ nerve?”

“I’m okay,” he muttered. Clambering onto the attic floor, he realized he wasokay. His dread had melted in the warmth of his fantasies.

It can’t turn out that way, he told himself. But wouldn’t it be nice?

No! It wouldn’tbe nice. What’s the matter with me?

In the faint light from below, he saw Pete kneeling at the head of the coffin. He made his way toward the other end. His hand came down on the fluorescent lamp he’d brought up the night Lane caught him here.

Lane.

Wanting Bonnie was a betrayal of her. Even worse, it was a betrayal of Jean.

He moved the dead lamp out of the way, crept over the floorboards to the foot of the coffin and put his hands on its corners.

Inside, the coffin looked black.

He couldn’t see Bonnie in there at all.

In a whisper Pete said, “Hey, wouldn’t it be something if she doescome back to life?”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“She was one fabulous babe, wasn’t she?”

“You’re married to a fabulous babe.”

“Yeah, but Bonnie. I haven’t been able to get that picture out of my head, you know?”

“She doesn’t look like that now,” Larry said, and he was glad that he couldn’t see her corpse in the black depths of the coffin.

“In the movies they come back good as new.”

“This isn’t the movies, Pete.”

“Too bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you guys doing up there?” Barbara called from below.

“We’re on our way,” Pete called. Speaking softly, he said, “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Clutching the wooden corners, Larry began to crawl sideways, looking over his shoulder and scooting the foot of the coffin toward the lighted gap in the floor. He stepped down onto the ladder. Left hand gripping the top rung, he braced the end of the coffin with his right.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t fall out this time,” Pete said.

The panel tilted against Larry’s hand and the coffin eased forward.

“Got it?” Pete asked.

“Yeah.” Larry stepped slowly downward, holding the end high. It didn’t seem to weigh much.

Just as he wondered if it might be empty, Pete said, “Ugly mother.” She was in there, all right. The box probably felt light because Pete was supporting most of the weight.

When it started to tip, Larry released the ladder and grabbed it with both hands.

“Be careful,” Barbara said.

“I think I’m...”

“I’ve got you,” she told him, and clasped the sides of his legs just above the knees. She held him steady, her hands moving up his thighs as he stepped lower. Then they were on his hips. They pressed against his back, and she said, “Okay, one to go.”

He stepped onto the platform, and her hands left him. He backed away from the ladder.

“Watch it,” she warned as he approached the edge of the platform.

“Thanks.” He stepped down to the concrete and slowly lowered the coffin to keep it level while Pete descended the remaining rungs of the ladder.

The edge sank beneath his chin. He glimpsed the corpse’s brown, withered legs and quickly looked away. The box nudged his chest. He backed up until Pete was off the ladder, off the platform.

They set the coffin on the garage floor.

Hal hurried forward. “Good God,” he said. “You people weren’t kidding.” Holding the bow and an arrow at his side, he bent over for a closer look.

Barbara came up beside him. “Yuck,” she said. “I’d forgotten just how disgusting...”

“It’s like she’s mummified,” Hal said.

“Jerky,” Barbara said.

“Let’s everybody quit admiring her,” Jean said, “and get this over with.”

Hal reached in. His fingertips prodded Bonnie’s thigh. “Tough,” he muttered. Then he rubbed the leg with his open hand.

“Cut it out,” Larry told him.

“Sorry.”

“Come on, everyone,” Jean said.

“Yeah,” Pete said. “Let’s get this show on the road. Larry, get on the other side of the coffin.”

Larry stepped around to the other side. Pete took the video camera from Jean, raised it to his shoulder and peered into the viewfinder. “Everybody clear away,” he ordered. “Hal, get ready with the bow.”

Larry crouched beside the coffin. The others stood together a few yards away, gazing at him. Hal raised the bow and nocked his arrow.

“Okay,” Pete said.

“Hold it,” Barbara said. “Shouldn’t we wait for Lane?”

Do it now while she’s not here, Larry thought.

He lowered his gaze to the body in the coffin. He looked at its straw-colored hair, its sunken eyelids, its hollow cheeks and horrible grin. Then he stared at the stub of wood protruding from the hole in its chest.

Take it out and I’ll be yours.

He wrapped his right hand around the stake.

Closing his eyes, he saw Bonnie alive. He saw her striding toward his bed, hair drifting around her face, her eyes innocent and loving, the tip of her tongue moist at the corner of her mouth. Her flawless skin gleamed. Her breasts jiggled just a bit. Her nipples stood erect. Her pubic curls glinted like filaments of sunlit gold. Kneeling on the mattress, she swung a leg over Larry. On hands and knees she hovered above him.

Pull the stake, she whispered. We’ll be lovers forever.

Larry’s hand tightened around the wooden shaft.

He opened his eyes and looked at Jean. Her fists were planted on her hips. She was scowling at him. “Well, go on,” she said.

Shifting his gaze toward Pete, he looked into the camera lens. “Forget it,” he said. “I’m not going to do it. We’renot going to do it. None of us. It’s over. Forget it.”

Lane moved in from the darkness beyond the garage door. She halted. She looked at Larry. Then at Hal.

“No!” she yelled, and ran at her teacher.

Forty-seven

Once the others were out of the house, Lane waited at the kitchen door and watched until they were inside the garage. Only then was she convinced that Kramer wouldn’t break away from the group and come in for a visit.

She went into her bedroom. There, she removed her crucifix from the small nail on her wall.

Pushing the bottom end of the cross under her waistband, she thought about the revolver.

She could take the gun instead of the cross.

And do what with it? Blow Kramer away? Make him confess, first. It’ll all be on videotape.

I can’t.

I don’t have to, she suddenly realized. She’d made the phone call to Riley. Right now he was probably waiting in Kramer’s house eager to nail the bastard for murdering Jessica.

I’ll be in the clear. He’ll be dead, and nobody will ever have to find out what he did to me.

If Riley doesn’t botch it.

He won’t.

Leaving her room, Lane decided to go ahead and use the toilet. She went to the end of the hall, turned on the bathroom light and shut the door. She locked it just in case Kramer might decide to come back, after all. She took out the crucifix, set it down by the sink, lowered her corduroys and panties and sat on the toilet.

Maybe I should just stay here, she thought.

She finished, dried herself, and didn’t get up.

Just stay here, and I’ll never have to see Kramer again. I can read about him tomorrow in the newspaper. Buford High School English teacher brutally slain in his home.

Nobody will ever know what he did to me.

Unless they get Riley for it. Then I’d have to testify for him.

Maybe that won’t happen. Maybe it’ll just go unsolved forever, and Mom and Dad will never have to know.

Lane wondered if they were waiting for her. They might not pull the stake until she was there. Maybe they would send someone in to get her. Maybe Kramer would volunteer.

He can’t get me with the door locked.

Hell, anybodycould unlock the damn thing. All it takes is something that’ll fit into the keyhole. You could almost do it with a fingernail.