Free The Walker in Shadows by Barbara Michaels Page A

humans to arise and feed him.
    Pat heaved the cat off, and got up. The house was quiet, so she knew Mark wasn't in it. He had returned from school, however. The dishes piled in the sink and the splashes of spaghetti sauce on the stove told her that. She got herself a cup of coffee and drank it, glancing through the paper as she did so. Then she went outside.
    The first thing she saw was her son's back. He was sitting on top of the fence that separated their house from that of the Friedrichs'. She was too far away to hear what he was saying, but she could see that he was talking; his head bobbed up and down, and once he waved both arms in an eloquent gesture that almost sent him toppling off the fence.
    The grass needed cutting again. Pat waded through it toward the fence, her mouth set. She moved silently, but some sixth sense warned Mark of her approach. He turned a tousled brown head toward her, and before she could speak he said in dulcet tones, "I'm not breaking the rules, Mommy. My feet aren't touching the forbidden ground."
    "Smart mouth," Pat said.
    There was a giggle from the other side of the fence, and a voice said, "Hi, Mrs. Robbins. Isn't it a pretty day?"
    "Hello, Kathy. How are you feeling?"
    "Fine." A wide blue eye appeared in a crack between two boards. "Dad said I didn't have to go to school. But I feel great. I wanted to thank you for what you did last night."
    "That's quite all right." Pat felt peculiar talking to an eye. She came closer to the fence. "Is your father there?"
    "No, ma'am. He went to work."
    "I've been thinking perhaps you ought to see a doctor, Kathy. Just to be on the safe side."
    "Oh, that's not necessary, Mrs. Robbins. Really. Mark just explained everything to me." The eye narrowed in an expression only too familiar to Pat, who grimaced dis gustedly as Kathy continued in adoring tones, "He knows all about it. I mean, I really appreciate him telling me. It's not so scary when I know it was a ghost, not me going crazy or anything like that."
    Even after years of exposure to that curious phenomenon that passes for reasoning among the young of the human species, Pat was left speechless by this comment. She glanced up at her son, who was regarding her with what could only be described as a superior smirk. Then he looked away, and his expression changed to one of guilt and alarm. If Pat hadn't been so angry she would have laughed. She didn't need Kathy's cry of greeting to know who was approaching.
    "Hi, Dad. You're home early."
    "One of my meetings was canceled," said Josef's deep voice. "We have a date for dinner, Kathy, remember? If you're sure you feel up to it."
    Pat leaned against the fence, folded her arms, and prepared to enjoy the conversation-if it was going to be a conversation and not a dialogue. Would Josef acknowledge Mark's presence? It would be difficult to ignore the lanky figure atop the fence, but if anyone could do it, Josef was the man.
    Kathy foiled her attempt to remain a detached spectator.
    "Mrs. Robbins is there on the other side of the fence, Dad," she said gaily. "Aren't you going to say hello?"
    "Hello," Josef said.
    Feeling like a fool, Pat responded.
    "You'll excuse us," Josef said smoothly, "but we've a long drive and I don't want to be late. Kathy?"
    "Yes, all right. Good-bye, Mrs. Robbins, and thanks again. So long, Mark. See you."
    Pat scuttled toward the house. What a fool she must have looked, lurking behind the fence. But there was no gate in it. Jerry had made sure of that.
    Later, she was to call herself bad names for ignoring the vital clue in that conversation. But she was thinking of other things, such as Josef's successful attempt to squelch Mark by pretending he was invisible, and when she reached the house she found another distraction. She had condemned Josef for bad manners-he might at least have thanked her for her all-night vigil-but as soon as she walked in the back door she heard a knock at the front. When she answered it she saw a messenger