Part 120 (2/2)

elevator opened, she grinned at the box springs that filled the car.

”One goes up, one goes down. Want a cold drink?”

Brian eased his way from behind the springs. ”Yeah.”

”Dad!”

”Mr. McAvoy,” Marianne shouted over the radio. She stopped in

midstream, wiped her painly hands on her overalls. ”Hi.”

”You want to move?” Buddy complained, then maneuvered the box springs

toward the stairs.

”Dad,” Emma managed again. ”We.didn't know you were here.”

”Obviously. Christ, Emma, anyone could ride up in that elevator.

Do you always leave the entrance unlatched?”

”They're delivering. Beds.” She gestured as Riko struggled in with his

load. She drummed up a smile and kissed her father. ”I thought you

were in London.”

”I was. I decided it was time I got a look at where my daughter was

living.” He stepped farther into the room to take a long, frowning

study. Drop cloths covered most of the floor. The packing crate from

the stove served as both a table and a stool and was now covered with

old newspapers, a lamp, a half-filled gla.s.s, and a paint can. The radio

sat on a windowsill, blasting away as Casey Kasem ran down the top

forty. The stepladder, the card table, and a single folding chair

composed the rest of the furniture.

”Jesus,” was all Brian could think of to say.

”We're a construction zone,” Emma told him with forced cheerfulness. ”It

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