Billie became terse. “I can’t open it, Del. My hands are full. C’mon, let me in.”

“Full of what?”

“Clothes. From the clothesline, all right? Now let me in.”

“Clothesline?” he said, rising slowly. “What’s wrong with the dryer?”

“Delbert,” her voice was sharp and angry. “You open this door for me right now or you will regret it, young man. I’m going to count to three. . . .”

“Why can’t you let yourself in?” he wanted to know. Panic was rising in him.

“One.”

It’s just your mother, stupid. You don’t want her standing out there in the night, not when something might be out there too, ready to grab her . . .

He took a step toward it.

“Two.”

No, don’t open it, because Mom hasn’t used the clothesline, not since we got the dryer and sure as hell not when it’s getting cold outside and she’s scared of Bruiser getting loose, but there’s no fear in this voice none at all and none of this is making any sense . . .

He stepped backward, away from the door.

“Three!”

Someone grabbed him from behind. Delbert yelled and swung his fist so hard that Bart felt the wind as it missed his jaw. He shoved the boy into the wall and doubled his own fist but the frantic look in his brother’s eyes brought him up cold. “What the hell is it?” he said, his sudden anger giving way to an icy dread. “What is it?”

Del stammered and pointed. “Someone’s at the door. It sounds like Mom, but . . .” He shook his head.

The older boy stared at the door and crept over to it and started to raise up to look through the small window but stopped himself. What if it isn’t Mom? What if you don’t like what you see?

He turned, went back down the hall. “Mom?” he yelled through the living room to the kitchen beyond. “You sure you don’t want to play?”

There was no answer.

He looked at Del, then stepped closer to the corner and the foot of the staircase to get a view of the kitchen door. “Mom? I said do you want to—”

“I heard you, Bart,” Billie said from so close that the teenager all but jumped out of his skin. She was coming down the stairs and almost beside him now. “Sorry about that, sport,” she grinned. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Bart was relieved and worried at the same time. He looked from her to the back door. “How did you get up the stairs without me knowing it?”