The Midnight Tour

by Richard Laymon

  “I’ll stick with you,” Dana said.

  “All right, good deal. Let’s see how Ethel’s doing.”

  Dana followed Tuck into the parlor and watched her scurry about in search of the missing tourist.

  “Are you sure we started with a hundred and fifty players?” Dana asked. “Maybe we were one short...”

  “Nope. I checked, myself. We started with a hundred and fifty players in full working order.”

  “So one is definitely still out.”

  “Yep.” Pausing, Tuck stared down at Ethel. “She still decent?”

  “Semi-decent.”

  “Good enough. I’d sure like to get my hands on whoever was in here screwing around with her.”

  “Better be careful what you wish for,” Dana said.

  Tuck came out. Together, they crossed the foyer and entered the dining room. They both glanced under the table, then split up to walk around it. They met again before stepping into the kitchen.

  As they searched the kitchen, Dana said, “What if we can’t find him,”

  “If we can’t, we can’t.”

  “Does it ever happen?”

  “Now and then.”

  “Somebody just disappears?

  Tuck grinned at her. “Now and then.”

  “Oh, terrific.”

  Off to the side of the kitchen was a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Dana opened it and leaned in. She glanced at the old-fashioned toilet, bath tub and sink. In one corner stood a water heater. On the floor was a modem electric space heater. There were plush purple rugs and matching towels.

  But no tourist.

  “Make sure nobody’s in the tub,” Tuck said.

  Dana groaned. Then she stepped through the doorway.

  Tuck had pointed out the special “employees only” restroom yesterday, but this was the first time Dana had entered it. The air smelled like fresh, scented soap. Murky light filtered in through the window curtains.

  A breeze came in with the light, filling the curtains and lifting them gently.

  Turning her back to the window, Dana stared at the bath tub.

  It looked very old and very large. It was nestled in shadows. against the far wall.

  From where she stood, she couldn’t see all the way to its bottom.

  If somebody’s hiding down there...

  How ironic to pee my pants a few steps away from a toilet.

  Fear growing in her belly, she rushed toward the tub.

  And saw its bottoms.

  Empty.

  “All clear,” she called out. Then she added, “I think I’ll take advantage of the john while I’m here.”

  “Help yourself.”

  She returned to the door and shut it, then stepped over to the toilet.

  This was really much nicer than the public restrooms out back.

  Seated on the toilet, she found herself staring at the tub.

  You hardly ever see them that big, she thought.

  A green bath mat was draped over its side.

  A bath mat?

  “Hey, Tuck,” she called out, and realized she’d used the wrong name. “Lynn? Does somebody actually take baths in here?”

  No answer came.

  Dana felt a tremor of dread.

  “Lynn? Answer up.”

  Silence.

  “Very funny,” she called.

  Nothing.

  “Damn it, Lynn!”

  Still nothing.

  “You just gonna stand out there and pretend you’ve disappeared?”

  Lynn didn’t answer.

  “Okay,” Dana said. “Great.”

  As fast as she could, she finished at the toilet. Holding her shorts up with one hand, she hurried to the door and pulled it open.

  Tuck wasn’t standing there, looking pleased by her prank.

  Nor was she sprawled on the floor, bloody and dead.

  Dana stepped out.

  Tuck didn’t seem to be in the kitchen at all.

  Heart thudding, Dana buttoned the waist of her shorts. She pulled up the zipper. She buckled her belt.

  In the room behind her, the toilet went silent.

  Dana heard only her own quick heartbeat and breathing.

  “Tuck!” she shouted.

  “I’m in the cellar!” Tuck called. Her voice, sounding far away, came through the open pantry door at the other side of the kitchen. “Be right up!”

  Dana hurried to the pantry and looked in.

  At the back of it, the cellar door stood wide open.

  Dana walked slowly to the open door. Stopping, she peered down the steep wooden stairway. In the darkness near the bottom, the beam of a flashlight flitted this way and that. She couldn’t see Tuck, though.

  “Are you all right?” she called down the stairs.

  “Fine. Just thought I’d check down here and save you the trouble.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I thought the beast had gotten you.”

  “Not this time,” Tuck said.

  “Anyone down there?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you coming up?”

  “In a second.”

  “Come on up now, okay?”

  “Do you wanta come down?”

  “Not particularly,” Dana admitted.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “But I will if you don’t come up.”

  “Okay.Here I come, ready or not.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, Tuck stepped into sight. She smiled up at Dana, then switched off her flashlight and started to climb.

  “It’s beginning to look like we’ve lost a tourist,” she said.

  “What do we do about it?”

  “Not much. We’ll go ahead and lock the place up. And we’ll check the parking lot before we leave, see if a car’s been left behind.”

  At the top of the stairs, she shut and locked the cellar door.

  “Should we tell the police?” Dana asked.

  “Tell them what? That one of our tape players is missing?”

  That a person is.”

  “Somebody might’ve just absconded with one of our machines. It happens.”

  “Have you had people. disappear?”

  “While taking the tours?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not many,” Tuck said, and grinned.

  Chapter Nineteen

  IN HOT WATER

  That night after supper, after reading, after watching some television, Tuck left the room and Dana flipped through channels.

  She was feeling groggy. She wondered whether to go to bed now or try to stay up for the eleven o’clock news.

  Nothing much of interest seemed to be on the TV.

  If she tried to read some more, she would undoubtedly nod off.

  Tuck came back into the room. She had changed into a white terry cloth robe.

  "Going to bed?” Lynn asked.

  "Going for a dip. Want to join me?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s freezing out there.”

  “It’s not freezing. Anyway,I’m going in the hot tub, not the pool.”

  “The hot tub?”

  “It’s great on chilly nights like this.”

  “Sounds pretty nice,” Danaadmitted.

  “Nothing like it. I’ll get us a bottle of wine and meet you out there. We’ll celebrate your first day on the job.”

  “Celebrate that I survived it.”

  “Exactly.”

  Dana shut off the TV.

  “I’ll grab a couple of towels, too,” Tuck said. “But make sure you bring something warm to wear for afterwards. A robe, or something. Otherwise, you’ll freeze your tail on the way back in.”

  Tuck hurried away.

  Dana trotted upstairs. In the guest bedroom, she turned on the light and pulled off her sweatshirt and shivered.

  This is nuts, she thought.

  Should be fun, though.

  She took off the rest of her clothes, tossed her s
ocks and underwear into the hamper, then opened a dresser drawer. She’d brought three swimsuits with her from home: a skimpy white bikini and two red tank suits left over from her days as a lifeguard.

  The bikini was meant for a special occasion—maybe an outing on the beach with just the right guy.

  As If that’s likely to happen.

  Shivering, she pulled out one of the red suits, stepped into it, drew it up her body and slipped her arms through the shoulder straps. When she had it on, she looked at herself in the mirror. The suit was thin and tight. It showed everthing. On lifeguard duty, she used to hide it under an official T-shirt and shorts so that she would only be seen in it during emergencies.

  Not much for warmth, either.

  In the mirror, she could see the goosebumps on her bare arms and legs. Her nipples were hard. They showed through the clinging suit as if she wore nothing but a layer of red paint.

  At the closet, she put on a robe. She wrapped it snugly around’ her body and tied its belt as she left the room.

  That’s a lot better.

  She hurried down the stairs, then turned around and walked over to the sliding glass door. On the other side of the glass, the pool area was well lighted. The water shimmered, clear pale blue with gentle ripples.

  From the hot spa near the corner of the pool, steam drifted into the air. Dana couldn’t see much of the spa itself—or Tuck. A patio table and chairs stood in the way. But a couple of large, folded towels were stacked on top of the table and a white robe was draped over one of the chairs. Dana figured that Tuck must’ve arrived.

  She rolled open the door and stepped out. Her feet met cold concrete. Night air drifted up beneath her robe, chilling her legs. She slid the door shut, then hurried toward the spa.

  Furniture no longer blocking her view, she saw Tuck shoulder-deep in the steaming, frothy water. A bottle of red wine and a couple of glasses stood on the concrete just behind her. She waved at Dana through the pale vapors.

  “It’s cold out here!” Dana called.

  “Not in here. Hurry it up.”

  Quickly, Dana pulled open her robe, slipped it off and swung it over the back of a patio chair.

  “Suits are optional,” Tuck said.

  “I opt to wear mine,” Dana said.

  “Suit yourself.”

  The spa was circular, about eight feet in diameter, and constructed of tiles that matched the nearby swimming pool.

  Tuck was slouching against the opposite wall. Through the steam, Dana saw that Tuck’s head, neck and shoulders were above the water’s surface. The rest of her body was submerged but well lighted from below, quivering and trembling with the undulations of the water. Though the view was obscured by bubbles, she appeared to be wearing a bikini made of something that resembled doe skin.

  “Suits optional, huh?” Dana asked. “You’re wearing one.”

  Tuck grinned up at her. “Never said I wasn’t. Just wanted to familiarize you with the house rules.”

  “Any other rules I should know about?”

  “Don’t piss in the water.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Yep.”

  Standing on one foot, Dana eased the other down into the water. And jerked it out. “That’s hot!”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “You trying to boil us alive?”

  “Moose soup.”

  She tried again. This time, the water didn’t hurt so much.

  She lowered her foot deeper. The swirling heat climbed her shin and calf and wrapped around her knee. Then her foot met the smooth tile of the seat. Standing on the seat, she committed her other leg to the water.

  “See?” Tuck asked. “It’s not so bad. It seems a lot hotter than it really is.”

  “By contrast with the frigid air?”

  “Exactly.”

  With a step forward, Dana dropped to the bottom of the spa.

  The hot water rushed all the way up to her waist. Flinching rigid, she gasped, “Iiii-ee!”

  Tuck laughed. “Pussy,” she said.

  “Are you sure it’s supposed to be this hot?”

  “Just wait till you’ve been in it a few minutes, you’ll be wanting it botter.”

  “I doubt that,” Dana said. Raising her arms, she eased herself down slowly, grimacing and hissing as the water climbed her belly and back and breasts. After her rump met the seat, she lowered her arms. Then she sighed with relief.

  “Feels great, huh?”Tuck asked.

  “I’m not so sure.”

  Already, however, the heat was beginning to feel cozy rather than painful. And she began to feel the tickle of bubbles, the rub and caress of the water’s currents.

  “It’s not so bad,” she said after a while.

  “Ready for some wine?”

  “Sure.”

  Tuck stood up, turned partway around, and picked up the wine bottle.

  “That’s a neat swimming suit you’ve got on,” Dana said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Mug Tarzan?”

  “Mugged Jane.”

  When the glasses were full, Tuck picked them both up and turned around. Dana started to rise. But the air felt awfully cold where she was wet, so she stayed low and hobbled to the middle of the spa. Tuck handed a glass to her.

  Instead of returning to her original seat, Dana made her way to the left and sat down closer to her friend.

  “Here’s to the start of a great summer,” Tuck said.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Dana said.

  They clinked their glasses together.

  Dana took a sip. The wine tasted heavy and fruity and tart.

  “Good,” she said.

  “This is the life, huh?”

  “Not bad.”

  “All we need is a couple of guys.”

  “To ruin it,” Dana added.

  “Ooooo.”

  “You know what I mean. This is nice the way it is. Get a couple of guys in here, they’d start acting rowdy. They’d be yucking it up and grabbing at us. Trying to feel us up...”

  “Get our suits off,” Tuck added.

  “Exactly.”

  “Doesn’t sound that awful.”

  “Maybe not.” Dana sipped some more wine. “Depends on the guys, I guess. So, who would you like to have in here?”

  “Nobody you know.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Ichabod Bibsdiddle.”

  They stared at each other. Tuck nodded and frowned solemnly for a few seconds, then let go. When she finished laughing, she said, “I don’t know. I don’t have a boyfriend. Not at the moment, anyway. I can’t even think of any guy I’d really like to kiss, much less...”

  “Didn’t you just say you wanted a couple of fellas in here with us right now?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, who would they be?”

  “I don’t know.” Tuck frowned for a moment, then answered, “Guys who aren’t dickheads.”

  “And they are to be found...where?”

  “Ah, they’re somewhere. I don’t know. I’ll meet one someday. I have every confidence.”

  “Guys must always be hitting on you.”

  “Oh, sure. Not a day goes by. Hardly an hour goes by. But most of them are yucks. Weirdos, creeps and jerks.”

  “But not all of them...”

  “No, no. There are some really cool guys who come on to me now and then. And they always turn out to be visiting from Juno or Milbourne or some other place a zillion miles away.”

  “Maybe you’re just too picky.”

  “Ha!”

  “What about the locals?” Dana asked.

  “Give me a break.”

  “There’s not one guy in all of Malcasa Point you don’t consider a loser?”

  “Nobody I’d want to go with.”

  Heart pounding faster, Dana asked, “So, what’s the matter with Warren?”

  “Ah-ha! Warren! I knew you’d be getting around to Warren. Surprised it took you this long.”

&
nbsp; “So, what’s wrong with him”

  “Did I say something was wrong with him?”

  “Well, I guess you lumped him in with all the other losers and ne’er-do-wells in town. What’s his problem?”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “Sort of. All we really did was talk for a few minutes at lunch. And I saw him when he left work. I haven’t gotten a chance to know him yet, but he seems like a nice enough guy.”

  “Oh, he’s nice, all right.”

  “Is he gay?”

  Tuck blurted out a laugh. “Gay? Warren? Where’d you get that idea?”

  “Clyde said he is.”

  “Oh. Clyde. Clyde would. Clyde’s a shit. He’ll say anything. He probably told you that because he wants you.”

  “Well, he ain’t a-gonna get me.”

  “Just never believe a word out of Clyde’s mouth. And don’t let him get you alone. He’s not only a liar, he’s a sneak. I wouldn’t put anything past him. Especially where you’re concerned. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re about ten times better looking than most gals. He’d probably do just about anything for a whack at you.”

  “Terrific. Thanks for the warning.”

  “He’s already nailed every gal on the staff.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Well, not Betty.”

  “You?”

  “Oh, yes. Even me.” Tuck grimaced, then tipped up her glass and gulped it empty. “How about a refill?”

  Dana finished her wine. She handed the glass to Tuck.

  “How did he manage that?” she asked.

  “Smooth talking, flattery, claims of undying love.” Tuck stood up, turned, and started pouring. “Booze,” she said. “A kiss here, a sneaky hand there. One thing leads to another. You know how it goes.”

  “Afraid so.”

  “My main problem was, I believed all his garbage. I trusted him. Make sure you don’t.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Don’t believe a word out of his mouth.”

  “Did he get Rhonda?”

  “You bet.”

  “My God. The poor kid. She seems so...innocent and vulnerable.”

  “She never knew what hit her.” Tuck handed a full glass to Dana. “I’d even warned her about Clyde, but she went for him anyway. He lured her, caught her, fucked her and dumped her. The same as he does to everyone.”

  “He won’t get me.”

  “Just never let your guard down.”

  “If he tries, he dies.”

  Tuck laughed and shook her head.