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By the kitchen table stood a stranger in jeans and plaid hunting jacket He was evidently the Tucker to wholes His closecropped black hair bristled His dark eyes were set under a deep, bony brow; his sharply ridged nose was like a stone wedge driven into the center of his face; his mouth was a thin slash, and his jaere as prominent as those of a predator that preyed on small ani a physician’s black leather bag

Her father reached for Chrissie as she came out of the pantry’ and she whipped up the can of WD-40, spraying him in the eyes from a distance of less than two feet Even as her father howled in pain and surprise, Chrissie turned and sprayed her ht in the face Half-blinded, they fumbled for her, but she slipped away from them and dashed across the kitchen

Tucker was startled but rab her by the arm

She spun toward hio of her, but the strength went out of his big hands She tore herself away from him and sprinted into the downstairs hallway

4

Froht Cove, as if it were a ot out of his car, the air was chilly; he was glad that he earing a wool sweater under his corduroy sportcoat As a photocell activated all the streetla in shop s, getting a feel for the town

He knew that Moonlight Cove was prosperous, that unemployment was virtually nonexistent--thanks to New Wave Microtechnology, which had headquartered there ten years ago--yet he saw signs of a faltering econoer’s Jewelry had vacated their shops; through their dusty, plate-glass s, he saw bare shelves and empty display cases and deep, still shadows New Attitudes, a trendy clothing store, was having a going-out-of-business sale, and judging by the dearth of shoppers, their ishly even at fifty to seventy per,cent off the original prices

By the time he had walked two blocks west, to the beach end of town, crossed the street, and returned three blocks along the other side of Ocean Avenue to Knight’s Bridge tavern, twilight iftly waning A nacreous fog wasin fro delicately; a plu, except where the streetlaht, and above it all was a heavy darkness co down

A single ht, three blocks away, and at the moment Sam was the only pedestrian The solitude coive hihost town, inhabited only by the dead As the gradually thickening fog seeped up the hill from the Pacific - 19, it contributed to the illusion that all of the surrounding shops were vacant, that they offered no wares other than spider webs, silence, and dust

You’re a dour bastard, he told hirim by half

Experience had made a pessimist of hi optis At the far edge of the darkening sea, the pallid sun was half extinguished Saet a drink

Of the three other customers, none was in a noticeably upbeat mood In one of the black vinyl booths off to the left, atoward each other, speaking in low voices A gray-faced guy at the bar was hunched over his glass of draft beer, holding it in both hands, scowling as if he had just seen a bug swiht’s Bridge reeked ersatz British atmosphere A different coat of arms, each no doubt copied from some official heraldic reference book, had been carved from wood and hand-painted and inset in the back of every barstool A suit of ar on the walls

Saray-facedover the already ihly polished oak counter

"Yes, sir, what’ll it be?" He was a round man from every aspect a s of black hair; a chubby face; a mouth too sish nose that ended in a round little ball; eyes round enough to give him a perpetual look of surprise

"You have Guinness?" Sam asked

"It’s a fundamental of a real pub, I’d say If we didn’t have Guinness … e ht as well convert to a tea shop"

His was a mellifluous voice; every word he spoke sounded as ser to please

"Would you like it cold or just slightly chilled? I keep it both ways"

"Very slightly chilled"

"Good lass, the bartender said, "Na the stout down the side of the glass to ensure the smallest possible head, Sam said, "Sam Booker Nice place, Burt"

"Thanks Maybe you could spread the word I try to keep it cozy and well stocked, and we used to have quite a crowd, but lately it seems like most of the town either joined a te their own in their baseht"

"These last couple months, it’s not been unusual to be half eht, which never used to happen"

Burt Peckham’s round face dimpled orry He slowly polished the bar while he talked

"What it is--I thinkhas finally just gone too far They’re all staying hoer nothing but bottled water and fruit juice and titood for you"

Sahed with satisfaction, and said, "This sure tastes as if it ought to be good for you"

"It is Helps your circulation Keeps your bowels in shape Ministers ought to be touting its virtues each Sunday, not preaching against it All things in moderation--and that includes a couple of brews a day" Perhaps realizing that he was polishing the bar a bit obsessively, he hung the rag on a hook and stood with his arh, Sa trip up the coast fro for a quiet place to se?"

"Semi-retire But you’re only, what, forty, forty-one?"

"Forty-two"