Read Online Repairman Jack [07]-Gateways by F. Paul Wilson - Free Book Online Page A

crone like me when he has all those other women chasing him? Don’t be silly.”
    Jack held up a hand. “Whoa. Rewind that. My father’s got women chasing him?”
    “Like vultures, they circle. Let me tell you, Thomas could have his pick of scores— scores .”
    Jack had to laugh. “I don’t believe this. My father, the stud.”
    “It’s not that. It’s just that there’s four widows for every widower down here. Thomas is an able-bodied man with a good mind and a nice personality. And best of all, he can drive himself. Such a catch, you wouldn’t believe.”
    She reminded him a little of Abe. “Speaking of catches, Anya, if you ever decide to move back north, have I got a guy for you.”
    She waved her cigarette at him. “Forget about it. My balling days are over.”
    Jack shook his head. “My father, the catch. Wow.” He smiled at her. “So if you’re not one of the circling vultures you mentioned, can I ask how you two spend your time together?”
    “It’s none of your beeswax, hon, but I’ll tell you anyway: Mostly we play mahjongg.”
    Another shock. “My father plays mahjongg?”
    “See? I told you there were things you didn’t know about him. I’m teaching him and he’s getting very good.” She tapped her temple. “That accountant’s mind, you know.”
    “My father, the mahjongg maven. I think I need a drink.”
    “So do I. Come over after you’ve settled in. We’ll knock back a few and I’ll give you your first mahjongg lesson.”
    “I don’t know…”
    “You have to give it a try. And once you learn, it’ll give you and your father something to do together.”
    When there’s frost on hell’s pumpkins, Jack thought.
    “Anyway,” Anya said, pointing to the house on the right, “this one’s your father’s. Look around. I’ll be back in a minute.”
    She headed toward the house on the left with Oyv trotting behind. Her place was painted…what would they call that color? He’d never heard of white zinfandel pink as a paint shade, but if there were such a thing, that would be the color of Anya’s house. Dad’s was a more masculine sky blue.
    Jack realized he was facing the rear of the house. He tried the door to the jalousied back porch but it was locked. It would have taken all of twenty seconds for him to open it but why bother if Anya had a key.
    He strolled the slate walk between the houses. The grass around the stones was as dead and brown as the rest of Gateways South; the foundation plantings along the base of the smooth stucco exterior of his father’s place looked thirsty but not as wilted as what he’d seen along the way. Jack suspected him of sneaking them a little water during the night.
    Then again, maybe not. His father was such a stickler for rules that he just might watch all his plants die before breaking one.
    Jack tried to peek through the windows but the shades were drawn. As he backed away from a window he glanced over at Anya’s and stopped dead in his tracks.
    Her place looked like a rain forest. Lush greens and reds and yellows of every imaginable tropical plant concealed most of the side of her house, not merely surviving, but thriving. A grapefruit tree, heavy with fruit, stood at a corner. And her grass…a rich, thick, pool-table green.
    A little surreptitious sprinkling was one thing, but Anya seemed to be thumbing her nose at the water restrictions.
    He noticed a small forest of ornaments dotting her lawn: the usual elves and pink flamingos and pinwheels of various models, but in among them were strange little things that looked homemade, like painted tin cans and bits of cloth on slim tree branches that had been stuck into the ground.
    He spotted a name plaque on the side of the house. He stepped closer until he could read it. MUNDY.
    He walked on to the front of his father’s place. The front yards of the two bungalows sloped down to a pond, roughly round, maybe fifty feet in diameter. As he approached for a look he heard a number of