Tony stared up at him. There was no duplicity in the boy’s eyes, no indication that he was lying or intentionally trying to deceive them. Daniel had the feeling that his son didn’t really know why the doll was so important to him or why he was so compelled to work on the object.

He found that frightening.

His anger had abated somewhat, and for the first time he saw both himself and Tony as pawns, small players in a much larger game. He had no clue as to what that game was or who was playing it or what its purpose might be, but he was determined to find out before anything happened to his family.

He glanced up at Margot, saw both concern and confusion in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said.

“You’re off the hook this time,” Daniel told him. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

They lay in bed, reading their respective magazines. Or pretending to. The television murmured softly in the background.

Margot put down her Time and shifted in the bed, turning toward Daniel. “I’m scared,” she said.

He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder.

“I thought you were overreacting about Tony’s… ‘project.’ I’m sorry I didn’t back you up. I didn’t realize it was this obsession with him.”

“At least it’s not drugs.”

“I almost wish it were,” she said softly. “At least we’d know how to deal with it.”

“You don’t mean that,” Daniel said.

She sighed. “I suppose not. But it’s not normal, his fixation on making this doll. It’s like he has to do it, like he’s driven to do it. And he has to use exactly the same things to make it with.” She twisted her neck to meet his eyes. “And what’s with this girl and her father?”

“I don’t know.”

“The father of the girl who taught him to make this doll wants to meet you? What’s that all about?”

He shook his head, hoping his face didn’t betray the unease he felt.

Margot’s voice was flat. “Maybe he’s involved in a cult,” she said. “Maybe he’s turning into one of those suburban kids who are into devil worship.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What is it then?” Margot asked.

It was his chance to come clean, to tell her about the shadow and what he remembered about the House, what he thought and what he suspected, everything. But he wanted to protect her, didn’t want her involved.

“I don’t know,” he said.

Doneen and Billingsly.