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surroundings.
    The foyer opened into a spacious parlor. That room and what he could see beyond looked very different from the way it had the first time he'd viewed it. David smiled to himself. The damp, musty scent of mildew that had permeated the house had surrendered to fresh paint, wax, and Pine-Sol. Not a speck of dust or string of cobweb remained . Instead, the walls and woodwork were pristinely coated with eggshell white paint and the Arenberg parquet floor gleamed, richly golden, under a fresh coating of wax.
    "All the outside repairs have been completed, except for some touchups where the plywood panels are protecting the first story windows." Theo gestured toward the protected stained glass. "They'll take care of all that tomorrow."
    Nodding absently, David examined the careful job the painters had done on the wood trim in the foyer. "My compliments to the workmen," he said . "And to Mrs. Williams."
    "Willard, Dad," Amber called over her shoulder. "You know, like the rat."
    "Thank you, dear," he said dryly.
    "Here's something we found in the storage room off the kitchen, of all places." Theo led them to a cove across the room which contained a huge upright piano. "We cleaned it up, but didn't have any repairs done. It used to have a player action, but I'm sure it doesn't work."
    The oak body badly needed refinishing, but the eight-inch tall stained glass mirror that depicted nude fairies cavorting the entire length of the instrument was in fine shape. Delighted, David lifted the key cover, revealing yellowed ivory keys stained here and there with dull dark-red spots. "Looks like somebody shot the piano player," he said, running his fingers over the keys. It needed tuning in the worst way, along with a few new strings, but the richness of the off-key tones told him the soundboard was intact. He resolved to get it refurbished immediately. "It's wonderful."
    Theo had moved to the center of the room and was examining everything with a critical eye. "Hiring the painters was difficult," Theo said. "The locals are so superstitious, but we finally hired Mr. Willard and a young man from town, Eric Swenson." Theo paused to push a stray strand of glossy dark hair from her face. "Eric also helped Mrs. Willard with the heavy cleaning. He'll be here tomorrow to finish the work around the windows and to help you in any other way you desire. I think he'd be happy to do the gardening and odd jobs for you. He does excellent work."
    "He sounds perfect," David told her.
    "Well, not perfect, but close to it."
    "Not perfect?" he asked doubtfully.
    Theo smiled disarmingly. "Who is? Intellectually, Eric is a bit slow," Theo said . "You might need to explain unusual jobs more thoroughly to him. But he's well worth the trouble." She paused. "He also has a very vivid imagination."
    "And he's willing to work here?"
    "You know, it's funny. Sometimes, he talks about ghosts as if he can see them, but he's so matter-of-fact that I don't think he believes in them at all. He certainly isn't frightened of them. He's a sweet boy. I think you'll like him."
    David glanced at Amber, who was examining the ribald stained glass doors fronting a series of cabinets and lawyer's cases built in to the far parlor wall, near the central stairwell. He turned back to Theo. "How old is Swenson?"
    "Twenty-one or-two. You do still want the agency to find you extra help, don't you?"
    "A housekeeper and a handyman, yes."
    "As I told you before, it's difficult to find anyone willing to work in this house," Theo explained. "Mrs. Willard and Eric are both amenable, and they come with my recommendations." She frowned slightly, the corners of her full lips pulling down in an alluring pout, and shook her head. "This is a small town, David, and, well, people here are superstitious. Frankly, I was surprised that Mrs. Willard was agreeable."
    "What about Mr. Willard?" David asked, thinking that if he could get a married couple, they might be willing to live in the house.
    She