The Eyes of Darkness Read Free Page A

Of course, if the production was a flop, if it failed to please the audience, she might be back working the small lounges again, on her way down. Show business, in any form, was a merciless enterprise.
    She had good reason to be suffering from anxiety attacks. Her obsessive fear of intruders in the house, her disquieting dreams about Danny, her renewed grief—all of those things might grow from her concern about Magyck! If that were the case, then those symptoms would disappear as soon as the fate of the show was evident. She needed only to ride out the next few days, and in the relative calm that would follow, she might be able to get on with healing herself.
    In the meantime she absolutely had to get some sleep. At ten o’clock in the morning, she was scheduled to meet with two tour-booking agents who were considering reserving eight thousand tickets to Magyck! during the first three months of its run. Then at one o’clock the entire cast and the crew would assemble for the final dress rehearsal.
    She fluffed her pillows, rearranged the covers, and tugged at the short nightgown in which she slept. She tried to relax by closing her eyes and envisioning a gentle night tide lapping at a silvery beach.
    Thump!
    She sat straight up in bed.
    Something had fallen over in another part of the house. It must have been a large object because, though muffled by the intervening walls, the sound was loud enough to rouse her.
    Whatever it had been . . . it hadn’t simply fallen. It had been knocked over. Heavy objects didn’t just fall of their own accord in deserted rooms.
    She cocked her head, listening closely. Another and softer sound followed the first. It didn’t last long enough for Tina to identify the source, but there was a stealthiness about it. This time she hadn’t been imagining a threat. Someone actually was in the house.
    As she sat up in bed, she switched on the lamp. She pulled open the nightstand drawer. The pistol was loaded. She flicked off the two safety catches.
    For a while she listened.
    In the brittle silence of the desert night, she imagined that she could sense an intruder listening too, listening for her .
    She got out of bed and stepped into her slippers. Holding the gun in her right hand, she went quietly to the bedroom door.
    She considered calling the police, but she was afraid of making a fool of herself. What if they came, lights flashing and sirens screaming—and found no one? If she had summoned the police every time that she imagined hearing a prowler in the house during the past two weeks, they would have decided long ago that she was scramble-brained. She was proud, unable to bear the thought of appearing to be hysterical to a couple of macho cops who would grin at her and, later over doughnuts and coffee, make jokes about her. She would search the house herself, alone.
    Pointing the pistol at the ceiling, she jacked a bullet into the chamber.
    Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the bedroom door and eased into the hall.

chapter two
    Tina searched the entire house, except for Danny’s old room, but she didn’t find an intruder. She almost would have preferred to discover someone lurking in the kitchen or crouching in a closet rather than be forced to look, at last, in that final space where sadness seemed to dwell like a tenant. Now she had no choice.
    A little more than a year before he had died, Danny had begun sleeping at the opposite end of the small house from the master bedroom, in what had once been the den. Not long after his tenth birthday, the boy had asked for more space and privacy than was provided by his original, tiny quarters. Michael and Tina had helped him move his belongings to the den, then had shifted the couch, armchair, coffee table, and television from the den into the quarters the boy had previously occupied.
    At the time, Tina was certain that Danny was aware of the nightly arguments she and Michael were having in their own bedroom, which was next to his, and that