After Midnight

by Richard Laymon

  Should I stop her?

  Maybe not. This could be a good deal.

  Or a disaster.

  “Hi, Tony,” she said. “It’s me, Judy. Are you there?” She stopped talking. She waited.

  Leave it at that! Don’t say another word!

  “I guess you’re not home. Okay. Well, I just called to see how you’re doing. Give me a call back if you want to. I’m still at the same number. So long.”

  She hung up.

  “We’ll probably get to him before he even hears it,” she said.

  “I imagine so,” I said.

  “It’s funny that he changed his number. Do you know why he did that?”

  I couldn’t come up with a good lie right off the bat, so I just said, “No idea.”

  “Maybe it has to do with his accident.”

  “Could be.”

  “At any rate, he hasn’t gotten home yet. I’m sure he would’ve picked up.”

  “You can bet on that. He’s been dying to get a call from you. But you never know, maybe he’s taking a shower or something. We probably ought to wait a few minutes and try him again.”

  Judy shook her head. “No. I don’t want to wait any longer. I need to go out and find him.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “You don’t have to,” she said, and turned away.

  “Sure I do,” I said. From my seat on the sofa, I watched her stride into a nearby room and switch on a light. At the other end of the room was a rumpled bed.

  Judy stepped out of sight.

  Raising my voice, I said, “I can’t have you going out there all by yourself. Something might happen to you.”

  “I’ll be all right,” she called.

  “Maybe. But what if you’re not? I’m the one who left Tony stranded. I’d feel awful.”

  “You hardly even know me.”

  “I’d feel awful, anyway. You’re a nice person.”

  A quiet laugh came from the bedroom. Then Judy said, “Well, I’m not sure how nice I am, but thanks.”

  “You are nice. And trusting. I mean, I’m a complete stranger, but you let me in here in the middle of the night. You even gave me a beer.”

  “Well, we’ve got a mutual friend, I guess. Or enemy.”

  “I want to help you look for him. Really.”

  “Fine with me. I might be a nice person with a lot of sterling qualities, but I am a chicken. It’ll be great to have you along.”

  “You and me, Judy.”

  She came out of the bedroom. Her pajamas were gone, and she was no longer barefoot. She wore white socks and blue sneakers, a pale blue skirt, and a short-sleeved white blouse that looked crisp and cool. Most of the blouse’s buttons weren’t fastened yet. It wasn’t tucked in, either, and hung down like a miniskirt. Only a few inches of her real skirt showed in front of her thighs.

  “You’re wearing a skirt?” I asked.

  “It’s a hot night.”

  “Tony’ll like that.”

  “I guess so,” she said.

  “And no bra.”

  She laughed. “Hot night. Besides, look who’s talking.”

  “I have an excuse. Tony wrecked mine.”

  “I don’t need an excuse. You’re not my mother.” Grinning, she looked down and worked on fastening the rest of her buttons. “It’s not like I’m trying to do Tony any favors,” she said. “I just want to be comfortable.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “Hell, you look great.”

  “Thanks. I feel great. This is kind of fun, in a way. It’s like going out for an adventure.”

  I found myself grinning. “Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

  Finished with her buttons, she hurried into the kitchen. She came back with her purse and slipped its strap onto her shoulder. “All set,” she said. “You ready to go? Do you want to hit the bathroom first?”

  “Ah. Maybe so. Good idea.”

  She pointed the way.

  I went in, turned on the light and shut the door. The bathroom was small, but very clean. A wonderful, flowery aroma filled the air. It seemed to come from a bar of soap on the sink.

  Not wasting any time, I took the .22 out of my back pocket, pulled my cut-offs down and sat on the toilet.

  While I peed, I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

  A complete disaster, that’s what.

  I’d actually brought Tony’s car—and corpse—to Judy’s building, not his.

  Even if I could somehow learn the location of his new apartment—which seemed impossible—the plan was blown anyway because I’d come face to face with Judy.

  Killing her wouldn’t fix everything, but it had to be done.

  The worst part of it was, I liked her.

  Too bad I hadn’t shot her right away. It would’ve been easier. Now that I knew her, it was going to be tough.

  I kept staring at the pistol in my hand.

  Maybe I should just do it. Go out there and shoot her right now.

  With my thumb, I switched off the safety. It had been hiding a small red dot.

  Wait till she turns around. Get up real close behind her, then put a couple in the back of her head.

  Don’t let her know what’s coming. That way, she won’t be scared.

  And won’t scream, either.

  Maybe she’ll scream because it hurts.

  I imagined it all happening, and it made me feel sick.

  Let it wait, I told myself. There’s no big hurry. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Wait till we’re someplace where nobody will be likely to hear the gunshots.

  Right away, I felt better.

  I still had to kill her, but not until later.

  I thumbed the safety back on, then reached over and set the pistol on the edge of the sink.

  When I was done at the toilet, I pulled up my cut-offs and fastened the belt tight enough to keep them from falling down. Instead of putting the pistol into my back pocket, I slipped it into the right front pocket. That way, it would be easier to take out.

  Then I washed my hands.

  There was a mirror above the sink.

  I hardly recognized myself. My hair looked strange—damp, ropey and coiled. My face was shiny with oils and sweat. The afternoon in the sun had turned it a dark, coppery color. My eyes looked all wrong—the whites too white, the gaze too intense.

  I looked a little mad, a little wild.

  Like someone well suited for bloody work.

  I washed my hands with hot water, using the nice soap. When I finished, my hands smelled like spring flowers. I rinsed my face with cold water. I cupped some water to my mouth, and had a few swallows.

  After drying, I used the towel to wipe the faucet and toilet handles and the light switch. I put the towel back on its bar, then shut off the light with the edge of my hand. Standing in the dark, I slipped my hand under the front of my shirt and grabbed the doorknob to let myself out.

  “Ready?” Judy asked.

  “All set,” I told her.

  Our beer mugs were gone.

  Along with my fingerprints!

  Smiling, I said, “You cleaned up already?”

  “Yeah. I hate coming back to a mess. Did you want your mug?”

  “I just thought I might have a drink of water.”

  “It’s already washed, but I’ll get you a clean one.”

  Already washed!

  “Never mind,” I said, pleasantly relieved. “We’d better go.”

  “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble.”

  “Yeah. Hey, I’d just end up having to pee again.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Judy walked in front of me. I followed her toward the door, the pistol swinging in my pocket, rubbing against my thigh. She opened the door, then stepped aside.

  I went out into the hallway. Nobody was there.

  Judy came after me, using the outside knob to pull the door shut. Then she gave it a couple of twists and shoves to make sure the door was
locked.

  Which took care of any prints I might’ve left on the knob. Side by side, not saying a word, we walked down the silent hall to the foyer. There, she whispered, “Where’d you park Tony’s car?”

  “In the lot.”

  “This lot?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You found an empty space for it?”

  “I put it in L. Is that okay?”

  “Fine. That’s right next to mine.”

  As we hurried down the stairway, she said, “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we leave it there and take my car?”

  “Are you sure you want to?” I asked.

  What does this do to my plan?

  Not that I actually had a plan anymore.

  “This whole business is pretty hairy,” she said. “Going to the woods at this time of night. I’d just rather be doing it in my own car. At least I can be pretty sure it won’t break down on us.”

  “Fine by me,” I said. “You drive.”

  “You point the way.”

  We came out of the stairwell into the parking lot.

  Nobody else seemed to be around.

  My loafers clopped loudly on the concrete floor. Judy’s sneakers were nearly silent.

  “If we find Tony,” she said, “we’ll bring him back here so he can drive himself home. Unless he needs emergency treatment.”

  “There’s his car,” I said, pointing at it.

  “Yeah.”

  It looked just fine sitting there. A few shiny drops of water sparkled on the trunk and rear bumper, but I saw nothing to worry about.

  “That’s a good place for it,” Judy said. “Nobody ever parks there but guests. It can stay right where it is for a few days, if he needs to be hospitalized or something.”

  “I don’t really think he’ll need to be hospitalized,” I told her.

  14

  NIGHT RIDERS

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” Judy said as we reached the top of the driveway ramp.

  “What is?” I asked.

  “This. Going out like this.” She swung her car onto the road and picked up speed. “I never go anywhere this late at night. I’m almost always asleep by now.”

  “Me, too,” I said, but I wasn’t really paying attention.

  I was preoccupied, just then, with my feelings of relief. Now that we’d left the apartment building behind us, I was finally free of Tony.

  I mean free!

  He and his car were gone!

  Adios, toot-toot, bye-bye!

  I would never go near them again, and nobody would ever find out what I’d done.

  Not even Judy.

  I looked over at her. She kept turning her head, glancing around like an eager tourist. There wasn’t much to see, though, unless you’re fascinated by empty streets, porch lights and darkness.

  “It is exciting to be out like this,” I told her.

  “Sort of spooky, too,” she said.

  “If you think it’s spooky now, wait till we get to the woods.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  “Do you know how to get there?” I asked.

  “I can find Miller’s Woods all right, but I’m not sure about the turn-off to the picnic area. How about you?”

  “I’m pretty sure where it is.”

  We were nearing the business district, so I said, “You’d better not take Central. When I came through, there were some unsavory characters hanging around.”

  “We can do without unsavory characters,” she said.

  A block short of Central, she turned onto the same street I’d used earlier. It looked deserted.

  “The fewer people see us,” I said, “the better.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Two gals by themselves.”

  “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “We just have to be careful, that’s all. You never know who might be out there.”

  “Most people are all right,” Judy said.

  “Not the sort who are cruising the roads at this hour.”

  “We are.”

  “We’re the exception. Anyway, it only takes one lunatic to spoil the night.”

  “You’re a regular cockeyed optimist,” she said.

  “That’s me.”

  “Maybe instead of a lunatic, we’ll run into a wonderful, charming stranger.”

  “Run over one?”

  “Into.” She turned her head and smiled at me. “You’re a trouble maker.”

  “Yep.”

  “I know ’em when I see ’em. I’m one, too.”

  “You? A trouble maker? You seem like such a nice girl.”

  “I’m that, too.”

  “How can you be nice and a trouble maker?”

  “I make benign mischief.”

  Normally, I might’ve laughed at that. It was a pretty cute thing to say, benign mischief. But it almost made me cry.

  Here Judy was, out in the middle of the night on a mission of mercy. Having herself an adventure. She’s nervous but excited and having fun, saying cute stuff, and she doesn’t have the slightest inkling that I’m going to leave her dead in the woods.

  It was awfully sad if you think about it.

  And I couldn’t help but think about it, riding along in the car with her.

  On her last ride.

  Too bad she wasn’t an ugly, snotty, miserable bitch. Then I wouldn’t have felt so bad.

  “Are you okay?” she asked after a while.

  “I guess so.”

  “You’re kind of quiet. Worrying about lunatics?”

  “Sure am.”

  “Well, I think we’ll be perfectly safe as long as we stay in the car. We really shouldn’t need to get out, I don’t think.”

  “Maybe not,” I agreed. “Depending on Tony.”

  “With any luck, we’ll find him walking along the roadside before we even have to go into the woods.”

  “I sure hope so,” I said.

  But I didn’t really think it stood much chance of happening.

  We were nearly to the town limits when Judy said, “Uh-oh.”

  “What?”

  “Here comes your lunatic, now.”

  “Very funny.” Twisting sideways, I looked out the rear window and saw a pair of headlights in the distance.

  “Man,” Judy said, “he’s really barreling down on us.”

  “Just drive normal,” I told her. “Don’t speed up or anything. It might be a cop.”

  “That’d be fine by me.”

  The car bore down on us, full speed.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Judy blurted.

  The headbeams surged in through the windows and glared off our rearview mirror.

  “God!” Judy cried out. “He’s going to ram us!”

  But he didn’t.

  At the last instant, the car swerved to our left.

  It started to roar past us, then slowed enough to match our speed.

  It wasn’t a cop car.

  Cops don’t drive Cadillacs. Not in Chester, they don’t. Not in any town I’ve ever heard of. This thing looked like a giant old gas-gulping monster that belonged in a junk yard, not on the road. A real old clunker, but its engine sounded hot.

  As it tooled along beside us, the guys checked us out.

  Two of them.

  Judy gave them a glance, then turned her face straight forward.

  I was leaning toward the dashboard so I could look past her. I had a lousy view of the driver, but the one in the passenger seat looked like a tough guy. He stared back at us. He looked all of about eighteen years old and had a crew cut. A cig dangled off his lips. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  “Real charming,” Judy said quietly, as if addressing the windshield.

  “Don’t do anything. Don’t even look at them.” As I gave that advice, I settled back into my seat and stopped looking at them myself.

  A few seconds later, the car sped past us and swerved into our lane, barely missing our front bumper. Judy hit the brakes. As I was
thrown forward, she flung an arm across my chest. Her arm didn’t stop me, but my hands did. I slammed them against the dashboard.

  The Cadillac pulled away from us.

  “You okay?” Judy asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Bastards,” she muttered.

  We were moving along at a crawl.

  The Cadillac kept going, gaining speed, and soon vanished around a bend in the road.

  Judy gave us a little gas. As we picked up speed, she took a deep breath. Then she said, “Maybe you’d better put on your seatbelt.”

  “Not me.”

  “Huh?”

  “I don’t use them. I’ll take my chances with the windshield.”

  “Yeah?” She gave me a look, but there wasn’t enough light in the car to see whether she was smiling, smirking, frowning, or something else. “I’ll keep mine on,” she said. “Safety first.”

  “No faith in your own driving?” I asked.

  She laughed.

  We glided around the bend. Ahead of us, the road was dark except for the moonlight. No sign of the Cadillac.

  “You think they’re gone?” Judy asked.

  “Looks that way,” I said. “But things aren’t always how they look.”

  “I guess they were just fooling around.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Could’ve gotten ugly. Maybe this wasn’t such a hot idea, after all.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Coming out to look for Tony. I mean, what if those two guys had gotten serious?”

  “Do you want to call it off and go back?”

  She didn’t answer for a few seconds. Then she said, “I guess if they’d meant to nail us, they would’ve done it.”

  “Probably.”

  “Probably just wanted to give us a thrill.”

  “As long as they don’t show up again,” I said, “we might as well keep going. We’re more than halfway there.”

  “Gone past the point of no return?”

  “Yep.”

  “Gotta keep going, then.”

  “You and me, babe.”

  She turned her head toward me. Again, I couldn’t see her expression. She said, “Can you imagine what a couple of guys like that might do if they got their hands on Tony?”

  “On Tony?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wouldn’t be pretty.”

  “I’d like to be there to see it,” Judy said.

  “Whoa! What kind of talk is that? We’re on a mission to rescue the guy!”

  “That doesn’t mean I wish him a full and rewarding life of health and happiness. Not after what he did to me. And to you, for that matter. It’d be sort of neat to see him really get creamed by a couple of punks.”