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around here... Mrs. Willard is usually quite reliable, though she has a little bit of a, you know, small-town attitude. And she does gossip a bit much for my taste."
    "Don't worry about it," David said . "I'm sure she just forgot. This place could rattle anybody."
    "Or maybe she's still in there," Amber added darkly, "splattered all over the walls."
    "Knock it off, kiddo," he said mildly. Chances were, she was talking like that more to bolster her own courage than to get under Theo's skin.
    David brandished the keys. "Shall we go in?" He took one step toward the house and halted as the soft sound of laughter filtered through the air. "What kind of bird did you say that was, Theo?"
    Her grip tightened on his elbow and her laugh was artificial. "You know, I'm not sure what they're called. Night birds of some sort. I think they're a sort of whippoorwill. Sounds like laughter, doesn't it?" she added nervously.
    Amber took his other elbow and he could practically hear her eyes rolling. "I studied ornithology in my natural science class last quarter, Mrs. Pelinore," she said sweetly. "Whippoorwills are not common to the western states. I think it's a blue-throated pacific night warbler. It belongs to the condor family."
    Theo paused a long moment. "You know, I think you're right. Please, call me Theo, dear." To David, she said, "I'm not married."
    "Come on," David said, pulling the women attached to his arms along with him. "Let's go in."
    As they mounted the sweeping stone stairs and stepped onto the shadowy porch, the air chilled perceptibly. Theo's fingers dug painfully into his forearm. "I have to find the lock," he said as he gently reclaimed his arm and felt for the keyhole.
    "I've got a flashlight." Theo rummaged in her purse and brought out a penlight. She aimed its weak beam at the door.
    "Take a look at this, Amber," David said, inserting the key in the lock, which was the eye of an ornate brass peacock. The latch plate was a foot long and the tail plumage flowed halfway across the front door.
    "Beautiful." Amber reached out and trailed her fingers over the molded brass.
    "Utterly charming, don't you think?" Theo asked.
    Instantly, Amber withdrew her hand, acknowledging the woman with a bare grunt. David resolved to talk to her about her hostility toward Theo later as he slipped his hand around the pull hidden in the peacock's breast and pressed the thumb latch. The door creaked and opened inward on perfect blackness. Chill, antiseptic air assaulted his nose.
    "The switches are just inside," Theo said.
    The little kid he kept buried deep inside him screamed Don’t put your hand in there --it it’ll get chopped off! and he hesitated for just an instant before he reached in and flipped a switch. Dim yellow light illuminated the porch, revealing the dull tarnish on the peacock, and several pieces of plywood--a two-foot square in the center of the door, and long strips at either side of the entryway.
    "Is the door broken?" Amber asked .
    "No," Theo said . "We kept the panels up to keep the stained glass safe." She turned to David. "Wait till you see what's under there."
    "It's in good shape, then?" When he'd seen the house, all of the stained glass art had been hidden under layers of paint, the first no doubt dating back to 1917, when Baudey House was converted into a home for retired seamen. Though it cost him dearly to have the paint removed, David was glad it had been there: otherwise the erotic art beneath it would never have survived.
    "Virtually all of it is intact," Theo said, "And it's beautiful. Utterly beautiful."
    "I can't wait to see it." David flipped the upper switch and light blossomed within the house. "After you." He stood back and gestured to Theo to enter. She barely hesitated before stepping inside. Winking slyly at his daughter, he extended his arm. She took it, grinning approval, and they stepped inside.
    "Wow!" Amber let go of David's arm and stepped forward . She slowly turned, taking in her