But if Gia and Vicky were linked to him, they’d become targets.

And Jack had no idea how he’d handle that.

If one of them ever suffered because of him…

“Okay,” he said. “I retire and we get married. Then what?”

“Life.”

“Easy for you to say. You go on designing book covers and doing your paintings, but what about me? What do I do in the straight world? I don’t know anything else.”

Gia rose up on one elbow and gave him one of her intent looks.

“That’s because you’ve never tried anything else. Jack, you’re a bright, inventive, intelligent man with an agile body. You can do anything you want.”

But I want to do what I’m doing now, he thought.

“But what about the toy theft?” he said. “If I were retired and we were married, what would you have done?” He poked her playfully. “Huh? Huh? What would you have done?”

“I’d have asked you to go get them back.”

He stared at her. Not a hint of guile, no sign that she was joking. She meant it.

“Am I the only one in this room who detects just a tiny bit of inconsistency here?”

“Nope,” she said. “I’m a hypocrite and I freely admit it. The only time I want you to be Repairman Jack is for me.”

Jack was speechless. What did he say to that?

During the silence, a low, guttural laugh filtered in from the front room. Jack felt the gooseflesh rise on Gia’s arm.

“My, God, Jack. Did you hear that?”

“Just the TV. That’s our old friend Dwight.”

Dracula was running in the ongoing Dwight Frye Festival. Jack could picture the scene playing now, one of his all-time favorites: The ship transporting the count to England has washed ashore, and the only man alive is Renfield, looking up from the bottom of the hold, his eyes alive with madness, his insane laugh echoing through the ship.

“It’s creepy.”

“You got that right. Ol’ Dwight did such a great job as Renfield that he was typecast for the rest of his career. Whenever they needed a character whose belt didn’t go through all the loops they called Dwight Frye.”

Gia glanced at the clock. “God, look at the time. I want to get some Christmas shopping in before we have to pick up Vicky.”

“I don’t think we have time to go to Westchester,” he said.

“Very true. So we’re going to FAO Schwartz.”

Jack groaned.

“Stop complaining.” She kissed him, then rolled out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a quick shower, then we’re off.”

He watched her walk across the room. He loved the sight of her naked—her small, firm breasts, her long legs, the pale pubic patch that proved she was a natural blonde.

Jack wondered what she’d look like pregnant. Probably fabulous.

Strangely enough, he’d been thinking about babies lately. Ever since he’d seen Gia holding that AIDS infant at the Center on Friday. The light in her eyes… that nurturing look. Gia was a natural nurturer. Jack knew that from seeing her with Vicky. Physically, Gia was a single parent, but she gave more to Vicky than any half dozen other parents put together.