The Beast House bhc-2

by Richard Laymon

  Alone in his room, Brian Blake picked up the telephone and dialed the office. A man answered, but he was prepared for that. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I don’t seem to have an ice bucket.”

  “I’ll send one right over to you.”

  “Appreciate it,” he said and hung up.

  He went to the connecting doors and opened his side. Gorman, rereading the diary, looked up at him.

  “She’s on the way,” Brian said. “I hope.”

  “Excellent. Enjoy yourself, but handle her carefully. We certainly don’t wish to alienate her.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Laughing, Brian shut the door. He removed a tan jacket from his suitcase, and slipped his arms into the sleeves. He was fastening the buttons when he heard a gentle knock. “Room service?” he called.

  “Your ice bucket.” Janice’s voice. Brian smiled.

  He opened the door.

  “I filled it for you,” she said.

  “Thank you.” He took the plastic container. “Come on in for a minute.”

  She stepped inside, and looked around the room as if expecting to find Gorman. She had changed into blue jeans and a powder blue sweatshirt.

  “How are you feeling?” Brian asked as he shut the door.

  “You mean the gin? I’m okay now, but I sure conked out. I almost missed supper.”

  He belted his jacket. “How about an adventure?”

  She looked intrigued. “What do you mean?”

  “Gorman asked me to check on something. You want to come along?”

  “Where to?”

  “I won’t tell.”

  “Do we walk or ride?”

  “Ride, then walk.”

  “How long’ll it take?”

  “An hour or so. It all depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Whether we get lucky.”

  “It sounds so mysterious.”

  “You game?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I got nothing better to do. I’ll tell Dad I’m going for a walk.”

  “Will he buy that?”

  “Sure. I take a lot of walks. Just pull off the road and wait for me.”

  Brian gave her a head start, then took his camera out to the Mercedes. He drove slowly through the courtyard, turned toward town, and stopped along the roadside. There was no traffic. He killed the headlights. Looking back, he saw Janice leave the motel office and trot down the porch stairs. She walked quickly with a bounce in her step as if eager to run. As she crossed the road, Brian flipped a switch to unlock the passenger door.

  “All set,” she said, climbing in. As she swung the door shut, Brian noticed a pleasant, faint scent.

  He smiled. He hadn’t noticed this aroma in the room. Had she actually taken time to put on cologne for their “adventure?”

  “ Now will you say where we’re going?” she asked.

  He put on his headlights and eased onto the road. “Beast House,” he said. He watched her mouth fall open.

  “Not me. At night? You’re out of your tree.”

  He laughed.

  “You are kidding, right?”

  “Right. Half kidding.”

  “Only half?”

  “We’ll stay outside the fence. What I want to do is go around behind the place and scout around.”

  “What for?”

  “The hole.”

  “The beast hole? For Godsake, what for?”

  “To see if it’s there.”

  “Oh, man, I’m not sure about this.”

  “Do you want me to take you back?”

  She sighed. “You weren’t kidding about an adventure, were you?”

  “Should be fun, huh?”

  “Jesus.”

  “Chances are, we won’t find the thing anyway. If it exists at all, it’s probably well hidden. It may have even collapsed by now. But if we do find it, you know what that means?”

  “I guess it means the diary’s not a fake.”

  Rounding a bend, they left the dark stretch of road behind. The main street of town was lighted with lampposts.

  “It might also mean,” Brian said, “that we would have access to the house.”

  “Now I know you’re crazy.”

  He slid his gaze down her slim body. “You might be just about the right size…”

  “No way, José.”

  Brian laughed. “Actually, I only want to locate the hole and get some shots of it. The tunnel to the house is probably blocked by now, anyway. Unless the beast still uses it.”

  “You just had to say that, didn’t you? You’re having a great old time.”

  “Wonderful.”

  She laughed softly as she stared out the windshield. Then she looked at him. “I guess you must’ve read the diary, huh? What did you think?”

  “That Thorn gal either had a very active fantasy life, or she ran into something a bit odd in her cellar.”

  “A bit odd?”

  “More than a bit.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “It’s too bad she didn’t describe the thing in more detail.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, she described more than enough.” Janice pressed her knees together. “Look, there’s the Kutch house.” She nodded to the right.

  Brian glanced at the brick house set back a distance from the road.

  “See anything funny about it?”

  “No.”

  “No windows. That’s where Maggie lives. The one who owns Beast House? They say she built it without windows to keep the creature out.”

  “Seems excessive,” Brian said. Turning his head, he watched Beast House as he drove slowly by. Its windows caught the moonlight. Its dull gray walls were smudged with shadows. “Must be pleasant in there at night.”

  “It’s bad enough in daylight. Are you sure that wouldn’t be a better time to go looking for this hole?”

  “We don’t want to attract attention.”

  “The thing’s nocturnal, you know.”

  “Worried?”

  “I just think you’d have a better chance finding the hole in daylight.”

  “Well, it’s worth a try.”

  “How come Mr. Hardy didn’t come along?”

  “He’s chicken.”

  “Smart man.”

  “I’ll protect you,” Brian said, and patted her knee.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He steered around a bend, and the distant lights of Malcasa’s main street vanished from the rearview mirror. The road curved upward through wooded hills. He drove farther than he wanted, looking for a shoulder wide enough to accommodate the Mercedes. When he found one, he turned out and killed the headlights.

  “Oh, man,” Janice muttered.

  “What?”

  “It’s dark.”

  “All the better for sneaking around, my dear.” He slung the camera strap around his neck and climbed out. While Janice scooted across the seat, he opened the back door. He lifted a blanket and flashlight off the floor.

  “What’s the blanket for?” Janice whispered.

  “In case we want to make out.”

  She looked at him. She said nothing.

  They started across the road, Janice staying close to his side. “Actually,” he said, “it’s in case we do find the hole. I’ll want to get some shots of it, and we can use the blanket to shield the flashes.”

  “Clever.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Oh, sure.”

  They walked along the edge of the road, heading down the slope toward town. Janice’s cowboy boots sounded loud on the pavement. When the wind rushed through the trees, it seemed to Brian like the noise of an approaching car. He often looked over his shoulder.

  “Nervous?” Janice asked.

  “I don’t want to get run over.”

  “Fat chance of that.”

  “You get careful,” he said, “after you’ve had a close one.”

  “Did you…?” she suddenl
y turned her face to him. “My God, that’s right. I forgot about that. Must’ve been pretty hairy.”

  “You see your own car speeding at you without anyone at the wheel—yeah, I’d say it’s pretty hairy.”

  “Awful,” she said. “God, you’ve been through a lot. I don’t know how you stood it.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I came very close…to taking Martha’s way out. When I found her in the tub, and all that blood…”

  Janice patted his forearm, gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Well,” he said, “it was a long time ago.”

  “You must still miss her.”

  “Not a day goes by when I don’t…Hey, let’s not get maudlin here and spoil the fun.”

  “Fun?”

  “I’m all right. Honest.”

  She let go of his arm, and nodded. Her face was a dim blur in the darkness. Brian brushed her chin with his forefinger. “Let’s find that hole,” he whispered.

  Near the bottom of the road, with the corner of the Beast House fence in sight, they crossed a shallow ditch and started along the slope. Brian led the way through the underbrush, ducking beneath low branches, climbing or descending to bypass trees and thickets, always staying roughly parallel to the fence. When he came to a cluster of rock, he climbed onto it and found a smooth surface. He sat down to rest. Janice settled down beside him. He put a hand on her back. “How you doing?”

  “Okay.”

  With no trees blocking the view, Brian could see the rear corner of the fence not far below. The lawn of Beast House was pale with moonlight. Just in back of the house stood a small enclosure of latticework. “The famous gazebo,” he said, “where Elizabeth and Dr. Ross had their ‘blissful delights.’”

  “Guess so,” Janice said. “Do you really think we’re gonna find that hole?”

  “Should be over there,” he answered, pointing toward the hillside directly behind the house. “Just outside the fence.”

  “It could be anywhere.”

  “Elizabeth wrote that the tunnel came out just beyond the property line.”

  “But I don’t remember she said in which direction. It might’ve been along the back, or it might’ve been along this side. For all we know, we already passed it.”

  Brian grinned. “Or it might be right behind us!”

  “Creep,” she muttered, and nudged him with her elbow.

  He struck back, tickling her side. She squirmed and yelped.

  “Shhh. It’ll hear you.”

  She clamped her arm down, pinning Brian’s hand against her side. “Gotcha,” she said. “No more tickling, okay?”

  “I promise.” He slipped his hand free. “Why don’t you wait here and relax a minute? I’ll be right back.”

  “Not a chance. Where you go, I go.”

  “Fine with me. Pick a tree.”

  “Oh. In that case. Stay close, though, okay?”

  He climbed over the top of the outcropping. After only a few steps, he turned around. The back of Janice’s head was a shaggy silhouette in the darkness. “Don’t peek,” he warned.

  “I won’t.”

  He unzipped his pants and relieved himself. Then he climbed over to Janice. “Ready to go?” he asked

  “All set.”

  He picked up his flashlight, tucked the folded blanket under one arm, and led the way down the rocks. The hillside slanted down to a shallow ravine, then curved as if to follow the line of the fence. Though there were few trees here to give them cover, Brian felt certain that they couldn’t be spotted from the distant road. Only someone looking out a rear window of Beast House would be able to see them crossing the slope.

  The windows were all dark.

  He waited for Janice. “Anyone in there at night?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Just the beast, huh?”

  “Very funny.” She didn’t sound amused. “As a matter of fact, they say it wanders the house at night.”

  “Looking for Elizabeth?”

  “Looking for victims.”

  “Let’s hope it stays away from the windows.”

  Janice lagged behind, staring at the house, then hurried to catch up. “Maybe we ought to get out of here,” she whispered.

  “We haven’t even started searching for the hole.”

  “C’mon, what are the chances we’ll find it? You said yourself that we probably wouldn’t.”

  “What’re you so worried about?”

  “I’m not worried, I’m scared shitless.”

  “What for?”

  She waved toward the house. “It can see us.”

  Turning to Janice, he shook his head. He let the blanket and flashlight fall to the ground, and put his hands on her shoulders. He could feel her trembling. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said.

  “I’m sorry. Really. But…”

  “That business with Elizabeth was more than seventy years ago,” he said in a calm, soothing voice. “Even if the stuff in her diary is true, which I strongly doubt, that creature would be ancient by now. Decrepit. Probably dead. At any rate, nobody’s been killed since that kid almost thirty years ago.”

  “What do you mean? It killed three people last summer.”

  Brian frowned. “There’s nothing about that in the travel brochure.”

  “Well, it’s outdated.” She glanced at the house. “They were killed up there, in a corridor on the second floor.”

  “The police must’ve investigated.”

  “Sure, but they couldn’t come up with an answer. They don’t think the beast had anything to do with it—at least that’s what they say. They said it must’ve been a nut.”

  “They’re probably right.”

  “They just said that. They can’t admit there’s some kind of a goddamn monster in the house.”

  “There is no monster, Janice. I mean, that’s nonsense.”

  “No, it’s not. You read the diary.”

  “Thorn was crazy.”

  Janice stared up at him. She smiled slightly. “If she was crazy, what the hell are we doing out here looking for the goddam hole?”

  Brian let out a quick laugh. “Touché,” he said.

  “Let’s leave.”

  “Gorman thinks there might be a hole. He’s more gullible than me.”

  “Let him come and look for it.”

  “What’ll I tell him?”

  “Just say we couldn’t find it.”

  “That would be fibbing.”

  She glanced to each side. “I don’t see the hole. Do you see the hole?”

  Brian laughed. “You’re really something, Janice.”

  “Am I?” She put her hands on his sides, and stared into his eyes. “What kind of something?”

  “Later. We’ve got to get out of here, remember?”

  “No. Come on, you started it.”

  “You’re funny,” he said. “And crafty. And cute.”

  “Cute? Hamsters are cute.”

  “Okay, how about beautiful?”

  She tilted her head. “That’s nice. Now we can leave.” But her hands didn’t leave Brian’s sides.

  He eased her close and she pressed herself tightly against him, arms wrapping his back, mouth opening, sucking in his tongue. She squirmed and moaned in his embrace.

  Brian slid his hands under the back of her sweatshirt. Caressing her, he pictured himself gloating as he described it all to Gorman. Nothing to it, really. I just worked on her emotions, played on her fears till she needed some reassuring, gave a comforting pat here and there, a little wit to break the tension. Worked on her sympathy by leading into some sad talk about my poor departed Martha. Tried to keep a sexual undertone going, joked that I’d brought the blanket for making out, even took a leak out there so she’d have to think about my dick. Stayed close enough so she could hear the piss splatter.

  Masterful job, Gorman would say.

  He unhooked the back of Janice’s bra. She didn’t object. On the contrary, she stepped back enough to make a spa
ce between their bodies so Brian could lift the cups away and caress her breasts. Her nipples felt like rubber posts. She arched her back as he thumbed them.

  “Shouldn’t we leave?” he asked.

  Her mouth hung open, but she didn’t speak. She shook her head wildly from side to side, making her hair fly.

  He slid the sweatshirt up above her breasts, crouched, and used his tongue. Her trembling fingers pushed through his hair, urged his mouth hard against her breast.

  Actually, Gorman, it was a cinch. She was as hot to trot as they come.

  No, he shouldn’t admit that. Let Gorman think he’s a superstud.

  Which, of course, I am.

  As he sucked first on one breast, then on the other, his hands plied her firm rump through the seat of her jeans.

  I took it slow, he would say. Didn’t want to spook her.

  He brought a hand to the front. The crotch of her jeans felt warm and moist. He pressed against it, feeling the jut of her mons through the heavy fabric. She writhed on his rubbing fingers as if she wanted them in.

  Straightening up, he pulled her sweatshirt over her head. The bra came off with it. He caressed her bare neck and shoulders as she feverishly unfastened his jacket and shirt. When they were open, she squeezed herself against him. Her breasts, slicked with Brian’s saliva, felt cool at first, then warm. Her hands went to his shoulders. They pulled the shirt and jacket down his arms. The chilly night air made him flinch, but her hand took his mind off the cold as it pushed inside his pants and curled around his erection.

  “Let’s put the blanket down,” she whispered, her fingers gliding. “That’s what you brought it for.”

  “It is?”

  Grinning, she gave his scrotum a gentle squeeze. Then she took out her hand. They spread the blanket nearby. It was puffy from the weeds beneath it. She walked on the blanket, her moonlit breasts jiggling as she stomped it down.

  Lying on her back, she crossed each leg to pull off her boots and socks. She opened her jeans, lifted her buttocks off the blanket long enough to tug the pants out from under her, and raised her feet. “Give me a hand?”

  Brian gripped the cuffs and slid the jeans off her legs. The panties were around her thighs, very white below the dark triangle of her pubic thatch. Crouching beside her, Brian drew the flimsy garment down to her ankles and off.

  While he shed the rest of his own clothes, he watched Janice squirm slowly, caressing herself. She had her knees up, her heels dug in to keep her from sliding down the gradual slope.