He was more like a father to me than my own Dad, his brother,was. It wasn't Dad's fault that he had to spend so much time away from home,it was his jo... and I had grown up with the fact that he couldn't be there whenI was playing football or learning to ride a bike, or doing any of the otherthings that Dads normally do with their sons. Uncle George did though and ashe and Aunt Marjory never had kids, he spent all the time he could with meand over the years, she grew to resent this. It wasn't. I ran outside and called the sheriff.*******************************************Less then a week later, I was sitting on the living room couch enjoying a book written by Joan Banks. The body in the fireplace had been solved rather quickly. A note written by the parents had somehow survived, and it explained how they couldn't bear being away from their departed first-born son. They had entombed his body in the fireplace so he would be close to the family from then on. They never thought that. More

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