“They’re friends.”
“Maybe your friends.”
Jud turned to Donna. “Charm him.”
She bent beside the car. At eye level with him, she said, “I’m Donna Hayes.” She reached a hand into the window. Larry met it with his hand and shook it briefly, making a smile that seemed to strain his face.
“Admit it,” he said. “You’re a reporter.”
“I’m a passenger-service agent with TWA.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“She is,” said Sandy.
“Who asked you?” he snapped.
Sandy began to giggle.
“Who’s she?”
“That’s Sandy, my daughter.”
“Daughter, eh? Then you’re married?”
“Not anymore.”
“Ah-ha! A feminist!”
Sandy turned away, laughing out of control.
“Don’t you like feminists?” Donna asked him.
“Only with Béarnaise sauce,” he said.
When Donna laughed, the corners of Larry’s mouth began to tremble with concealed mirth. “I suppose…” He swallowed. “I suppose I’ll be relegated to the backseat with Little Miss Giggles.” He unlocked the door and climbed out.
Donna stepped into the car. She scooted to the middle of the front seat. “Miss Giggles can manage the backseat on her own.”
“A lady! I’ve met a lady!” Larry got in beside her. She unlocked the driver’s door for Jud, while Larry reached behind him to get the lock of the back door.
“Where to?” Larry asked, slapping his thighs.
“The Welcome Inn,” said Jud. “For drinks and lunch.”
“Wonderful. A party. I love parties.” He looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you love parties, Miss Giggles?”
“I find them enchanting,” replied Sandy, and burst into a new fit of hysteria.
As they were passing the Chevron station, Sandy called out, “There’s our car!”
“Is it sick?” Larry asked.
Donna said, “We had a little accident last night.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“Just bruises and scrapes.”
“Would you like me to stop?” Jud asked.
“Would you mind?”
He pulled into the station. Larry climbed out to let Donna through. Then he got back in and shut the door.
“I suppose it’s never difficult for a woman to demolish a car,” Larry said, looking around at the girl. “How did your mother accomplish it?”
Jud didn’t listen to the girl’s reply. All his attention was focused on Donna: on the way the sun shimmered in the flow of her brown hair, on the inward curve of her back and how the mounds of her buttocks shifted under her corduroy pants as she walked. In front of the office, she met a man wearing coveralls and a smirk. They talked. Donna tossed her rump to the left and slid a hand down her rear pocket. She nodded. With a graceful pivot, she followed the man to her car, where he opened the hood and shook his head.
Jud watched her hair sweep down the side of her face as she ducked to look under the hood. She straightened up, talking.
“Uh-oh,” he heard Sandy say.
The man slammed the hood shut.
Donna talked to him, and nodded while he spoke. She pushed both hands into her hip pockets, and shifted again to her left leg. Then she swung around. She walked with long strides toward Jud’s car, shrugged, made a face to show exasperation, and smiled.
Larry climbed out to let her in.
“Well,” she told Jud, “it’s still among the living. He has to send to Santa Rosa, though, for a new radiator.”
“That’ll take a couple of days, won’t it?”
“He said we might be able to leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Sandy sounded worried.
“There’s no way around it, honey.”
“Do you need to get somewhere in a hurry?” Jud asked, and pulled onto the road.
“No, not especially. Two days in this town is just about two days longer than we’d planned on, that’s all.”
“I spent twelve years in this marvelous berg,” said Larry. “You’d be amazed at the variety of activities available to you.”
“What sort of things?” asked Sandy.
“The most popular sport, by far, is sitting at the corner of Front and Division to watch the traffic light change.”
“Oh boy.”
“Do you have a place to stay?” Jud asked.
Donna nodded. “We’ve got a room at the Welcome Inn.”
“Why, isn’t that a joyful coincidence!” Larry proclaimed. “So do we! Do all of us play bridge?”
“Never touch the stuff,” Jud said.
“Don’t brag!”
“Besides, we’ve already got plans for tonight.”
“Oh.”
“We have some business to take care of,” he told Donna.
“Are you just in town for today?” she asked.
“We may be around for a few days. It’s hard to say, at this point. Depends on how things go.”
“What sort of business are you in?”
“We’re with…” He suddenly knew that he didn’t want to lie. Not to this woman. The need to retain a cover wasn’t as great as usual, and not worth the loss. “I’d rather not go into it,” he said.
“Oh. Fine. I’m sorry if I pried.”
“No, don’t…”
“I’d be happy to tell you our business.”
“Larry!”
“We’re going to…”
“Don’t!”
“Kill the beast.”
“What?” Donna asked.
“Wow!” cried Sandy.
“The beast. The monster of Beast House. Judgment Rucker and I are going to lay it low!”
“Are you?” Donna asked, turning to Jud.
“Do you believe there is a beast?” he asked.
“Something killed all those people, I guess.”
“Or someone,” Jud said.
“The killer of Tom Bagley was not human,” Larry insisted.
“What was it?” asked Sandy.
“We’ll show you its cadaver,” Larry said, “and you may decide for yourself.”
“What’s a cadaver?”
“It’s a corpse, honey.”
“Oh, gross.”
“What we plan to do,” Jud said, “is find out what—or who—killed the people in that house. Then we’ll deal with it.” He smiled at her. “Bet you didn’t realize you were riding with a couple of lunatics. Are you still up to a Bloody Mary?”
“Now I may need two.”
2.
“Excuse me,” Donna said. She scooted back her chair. “If the drinks come while I’m gone, don’t wait on me.”
“I’ll come, too,” said the girl.
Jud watched them walk across the crowded dining room. Then he leaned close to Larry. In a low voice, he said, “You screwed up real good, back there. If one more person finds out what we’re doing in this town, it’s all over. I keep my advance, drive back to San Francisco, and that’s the end of it.”
“Really, Judge. What possible harm…?”
“One more person.”
“Oh, all right. If you must be that way.”
“I must.”
Nobody spoke of Beast House during cocktails or lunch. As they were finishing, Larry told of a footpath that led down a gorge to a beach.
After lunch, they all went to the motel office and registered for another night. Then the two groups split up, giving Donna and Sandy a chance to put on their swimsuits. Jud relaxed on his bed, ankles crossed, hands folded behind his head. He fell asleep.
“There they are!” Larry announced, waking him. The nervous man left the window and inspected himself in a mirror over the dressing table. “How do I look?”
Jud glanced at the red-flowered shirt and white shorts. “Where’s your Panama hat?”
“I could hardly pack everything on such short notice.”
They left their cabin. Larry rushed ahead to meet the two women, but Jud hung back to have a long look at Donna. She wore a blue shirt with sleeves rolled up her forearms. Below the hanging shirttails, her legs were slim and dark. No trace of a swimsuit was visible.
“I do hope you’re not au naturel under that blouse,” Larry said.
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Oh please, give us a peek. Just a teensy one.”
“Nope.”
“Oh please.”
Sandy lunged forward laughing, and swung her denim handbag at Larry. He spun away, ducking. The bag whunked his back. “Cruel midget!” he cried out.
The girl started to swing again.
“That’s enough, honey.”
“But he’s weird,” Sandy gasped, laughing.
“Is he always this way?” Donna asked Jud.
“I only met him last night.”
“Is that true?”
“Judgment never lies,” Larry said.
They got into Jud’s Chrysler, and Larry gave directions that took them down Front Street past the Chevron station, past Sarah’s Diner, and down two more blocks of shops. Beast House loomed ahead, on the left. The talking and laughter abruptly stopped, but nobody mentioned the house.
Larry broke the silence. “Turn right on this dirt road.”
Jud made the turn.
“Is that where Axel’s mother lives?” Sandy asked, pointing to the brick house.
“That’s the place,” said Donna.
Jud looked at the brick house to his left and saw that it had no windows. “Strange,” he muttered.
“Indeed,” said Larry. He asked Donna, “How do you know Axel?”
“He gave us a ride into town last night.”
“There’s a weird duck.”
“He’s retarded,” Sandy explained.
“Who wouldn’t be, with a mother like Maggie Kutch?”
“What?” asked Sandy.
“Axel’s mother is Maggie Kutch, the owner of Beast House, the tour guide.”
“Her?”
“Yes indeed.”
“Did she remarry after the killings?” Donna asked. “Keep to the right, Judge. No, she did have visitors, though. Town speculation had it that Wick Hapson fathered Axel. He’s been working with Maggie from the start, and they live together.”
“The man in the ticket booth?” Donna asked.
“Right-o.”
“Charming family,” Jud said. “It looked like the house didn’t have any windows.”
“It doesn’t.”
“How come?” Sandy asked.
“So the beast can’t get in, of course.”
“Oh.” The girl sounded as if she regretted asking.
The dirt road widened and ended.
“Ah we’re here! Just park anywhere, Judge.”
He turned the car around so it headed out, and parked off to the side of the road.
“You’ll absolutely adore this beach,” Larry said, getting out.
Before opening his door, Jud watched Donna. As he’d assumed, she was wearing a swimsuit under the shirt: the bottom part of one, at least. Its blue fabric shined at him when she bent to climb out.
He joined the others beside the car. The wind felt good, cutting the heat like a cool spray.
“Are we off?” Larry asked Donna.
“We off?” she asked Jud.
“I’m ready. You ready, Sandy?”
“You’re all weird.”
They walked single file along a narrow trail that angled downward between two sandy hills. Jud squinted into the wind. It fluttered in his ears, batting away all but the loudest words as Larry told of a childhood experience at the beach.
After they rounded a curve in the trail, the ocean came into view. Its choppy blue was frothing with rows of whitecaps. Waves slammed against a rocky point. Just this side of the point, the waves washed quietly onto a stretch of sand. Jud could see nobody down there.
“Ah wonderful!” Larry yelled, spreading his arms and sniffing a deep breath. “Last one to the beach is a rotten egg!” He began to run. Sandy chased after him.
Jud turned to Donna. “Don’t you feel like racing?”
“Nope.” Wind threw strands of hair across her face. Jud brushed them away. He couldn’t look away from her eyes.
“I bet I know why,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re afraid I’ll beat you.”
“Is that it?” Her eyes were amused, but serious, as if she wouldn’t permit herself to be distracted by his banter.
“That’s it,” he said.
“Is your name really Judgment?”
“It really is.”
“I wish we were alone, Judgment.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her against him, feeling the press of her body, the light touch of her hands against his back, the smooth, moist opening of her lips.
“We’re not alone,” she said after a while.
“I guess we’d better quit, huh?”
“While the quitting’s good.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s good,” Jud said.
“Me neither.”
Holding hands, they walked down the trail. Below, Sandy was running across the beach just ahead of Larry. She splashed into the water. Larry stopped at the water’s edge and dropped to his knees. The girl waved for him to come in, but he shook his head. “Come on!” Jud heard through the noise of the wind and surf.
Sandy pranced in the water, crouched and splashed at Larry.
“We’d better hurry,” Donna said, “before my charming daughter gets carried away and drags him in.”
Even as she said it, the girl ran ashore and began to tug one of Larry’s arms.
“Leave him alone, Sandy!”
Larry, still on his knees, managed to look around. “It’s really all right, Donna,” he called. “She’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Letting go of his arm, Sandy circled behind him and leaped onto his back. “Giddyap!” she shouted.
He lunged and twisted, scrambling through the sand on hands and knees, making a noise that sounded, at first, like the whinny of a horse. Then he was on his feet. Sandy, clutching him tightly around the neck, looked back at Donna and Jud. Though she said nothing, her face showed fear. Larry swung himself in a circle, tugging at the girl’s arms, and Jud saw terror in his wide eyes. His whinnies were ragged gasps of panic. He pranced and bucked, trying to tear himself free.
“Oh my God!” Donna cried, and broke into a run.
Jud raced past her toward the girl now screaming in horror.
“Larry, stop!” he yelled.
The man didn’t seem to hear. He kept jumping and writhing, pulling frantically at the girl’s arms.
Then Sandy was falling backward, her legs still hugging Larry’s hips but her arms loose and flailing. One of her small hands clutched Larry’s collar. The shirt split down his back, and he screamed. Jud caught the falling girl. He pulled her free.
Larry spun, looking at them, his eyes wild. He began backing away. He fell. Propping himself on an elbow, he still gazed at them. Slowly, the strangeness left his face. His harsh breathing grew calm.
Jud left Sandy in her mother’s arms and went to him.
“She shouldn’t…have jumped on my back.” His voice was a high whine. “Not on my back.”
“It’s all right now,” Jud said.
“Not on my back.” He lay on the sand, covering his eyes with his forearms, and wept silently.
Jud knelt beside him. “It’s all right, Larry. It’s all over.”
“It’s not over. It’ll never be over. Never.”
“You gave the kid a terrible scare.”
“I kno-o-o-w,” he said, stretching the word like a groan of misery. “I’m sor-ry. Maybe…if I apologize.”
“Might help.”
He sniffed, and wiped his eyes. When he sat up, Jud saw the scars. They criss-crossed his shoulders and back in
a savage tracery more white than his pale skin.
“They’re not from the beast, if that’s what you think. I got them from my fall. The beast never touched me. Never.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roy made certain, once again, that Joni was securely tied. Probably it didn’t matter. She’d obviously lost her marbles. But Roy wanted nothing left to chance.
In the living room, he bent down and lit the candle. He patted the newspaper wads to make certain, once again, they were touching the candle stick. Then he headed for the kitchen, stepping high, his feet crushing the newspaper wads and clothes he’d scattered along the floor.
The fire might not destroy all the evidence, but it couldn’t hurt.
He put on sunglasses and a faded Dodger cap that had belonged to Marv, and went out the back door. Pulling it shut, he twisted his hand to smear prints on the knob. He trotted down three steps to the patio, then hurried to the driveway. Looking toward the street, he saw that a gate blocked the driveway. He walked casually to it, unlatched it, and opened it.
The neighbor’s house was very close. He watched its windows, but saw nobody looking out.
He walked up the driveway to the garage. A twocar garage, with two doors separated by a beam. He raised the left-hand door. Inside was a red Chevy. He climbed into it, glanced at the three sets of keys he’d brought from the house, and easily found the Chevrolet keys.
He started the car and backed out of the garage. He stopped close to the kitchen door. Then he got out and opened the trunk. He brought Joni out of the house, set her inside the trunk, and slammed the lid shut.
The trip to Karen’s house took less than ten minutes. He’d expected to recognize the house, but it didn’t look familiar at all. He checked the address again. Then he remembered that she and Bob moved just before the trial. This was the right house.
He parked in front. He checked his wristwatch—Marv’s wristwatch—his now. Nearly two-thirty.
The neighborhood seemed very quiet. He looked up and down the block as he walked to the front door. Four houses to the right, a Japanese gardener was whacking limbs from a bush. To the left, a lawn away, a lone tabby cat crouched, stalking something. Roy didn’t bother trying to spot its prey. He had some prey of his own.
Grinning, he rang the doorbell. He waited, and rang again. Finally he decided nobody was in.
He headed around the side of the house, took two steps past the rear corner, and stopped abruptly.
The Cellar Page 8
