Chapter One The room was dark. He sat in the chair, his arms hugging his legs. It was happening again. Charley wouldn't stay locked in the secret place. Charley insisted on thinking about Erin. Only two more, Charley whispered. Then I'll stop. He knew there was no use protesting. But it was becoming more and more dangerous. Charley was becoming reckless. Charley wanted to show off. Go away, Charley, leave me alone, he begged. Charley's mocking laugh roared through the room. If only Nan had liked him, he thought. If only she'd invited him to her birthday party 15 years ago...He'd loved her so much! He'd followed her to Darien with the present he'd bought her at a discount house, a pair of dancing slippers. The cardboard shoebox had been plain and cheap, and he'd taken such trouble to decorate it, drawing a sketch of the slippers on the lid. Her birthday was on March twelfth, during spring break. He'd driven down to Darien to surprise her with the present. He'd arrived to find her house ablaze with lights. Cars were being parked by valets. He'd driven slowly past, shocked and stunned to recognize students from Brown there. It still embarrassed him to remember that he'd cried like a baby as he turned around to drive back. Then the thought of the birthday gift made him change his mind. Nan had told him that every morning at seven o'clock, rain or shine, she jogged in the wooded area near her home. The next morning he was there, waiting for her. He remembered, still vividly today, her surprise at seeing him. Surprise, not pleasure. She'd stopped, her breath coming in gasps, a stocking cap hiding her silky blond hair, a school sweater over her running suit, her feet in Nikes. He'd wished her a happy birthday, watched her open the box, listened to her insincere thanks. He'd put his arms around her. 'Nan, I love you so much. Let me see how pretty your feet look in the slippers. I'll fasten them for you. We can dance together right here.' 'Get lost!' She pushed him away, threw the box at him, started to jog past him. It was Charley who had run after her, grabbed her, thrown her to the ground. Charley's hands squeezed her throat until her arms stopped flailing. Charley fastened the slippers on her feet and danced with Nan, her head lolling on his shoulder. Charley lay her on the ground, one of the dancing slippers on her right foot, replacing the Nike on her left. A long time had passed. Charley had become a blurred memory, a shadowy figure lurking somewhere in the recesses of his mind, until two years ago. Then Charley had started reminding him about Nan, about her slender, high-arched feet, her narrow ankles, her beauty and grace when she danced with him... Eeney-meeney-miney-mo. Catch a dancer by the toe. Ten piggy toes. The game his mother used to play when he was small. This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home. 'Play it 10 times,' he used to beg when she stopped. 'One for each piggy toe.' His mother had loved him so much! Then she changed. He could still hear her voice. 'What are these magazines doing in your room? Why did you take those pumps from my closet. After all we've done for you! You're such a disappointment to us.' When he reappeared two years ago, Charley ordered him to place ads in the personal columns. So many ads. Charley dictated what he had to say in the special one. Now seven girls were buried on the property, each with a dancing slipper on the right foot, her shoe or sneaker or boot on the left... He'd begged Charley to let him stop for a while. He didn't want to do it anymore. He'd told Charley that the...