“I know, I know.”
“Right, you know. Anyway, Pete and Barbara should be arriving any minute. Would you like to make sure Lane’s about ready?”
“I shouldn’t leave our guest abandoned...”
“It’ll only a take a minute.”
Wishing Jean wouldn’t be so negative about everything, he left the room and went to Lane’s door. He knocked.
“Yeah?” she called.
“Are you decent?”
“Yeah.”
He opened the door. Lane was still in bed, hidden under the covers except for the back of her head. She didn’t look at him.
“I thought you’d be up and dressed by now.”
“I had a relapse.”
“Do you feel good enough to have dinner with us?”
“I don’t know.”
Concerned, he went to the bed. He sat down on its edge and stroked Lane’s hair. She looked up at him with solemn eyes. Her face was slack and pale. “Are you okay?”
“If I was okay, I wouldn’t be lying here.”
“I mean, do you think it might be something serious? Maybe we’d better get you to a doctor.”
“I don’t need any doctor. I’ll be fine.”
“I really hate to see you like this, honey.”
“I’m sorry.
“Look, if you’re not up to having dinner with us, we could bring it in for you.”
“Are Pete and Barbara here yet?”
“Not yet. But Hal’s still here. We’ve asked him to join us. For dinner and for the big event.”
Closing her eyes, Lane muttered, “Wonderful.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just feel awful, that’s all.”
He gently caressed her cheek, then stood up. “It’d be nice if you can join us. It’s up to you, though. Wouldn’t want you barfing on the table.”
Lane didn’t crack a smile.
She issick, Larry thought.
“Like I said, we’ll bring you something.”
“Thanks.”
He went out to the hallway and closed her door, feeling depressed. It’s probably nothing serious, he told himself. But he thought, What if it’s spinal meningitis? Or bone cancer? Or... Knock it off!
Jean was no longer in the bedroom.
He found her in the living room, sitting on the sofa near Hal, saying, “I know the whole thing sounds crazy, but...” She looked up at Larry.
“Lane’s feeling worse. She might not make it out for dinner.”
Jean scowled. “I’d better go see her. Larry, why don’t you get Hal another drink?”
* * *
Her mother shut the door when she left the room. A few minutes later Lane heard the doorbell. That would be Pete and Barbara arriving.
She heard faint, cheerful voices. Some laughter.
It all seemed too weird to be real: the group drinking and eating and having a merry old time while they prepared to conclude their business with the “vampire,” never suspecting they had a realmonster in their midst.
The Devil hath the power to assume a pleasing shape.
Kramer hath a pleasing shape, all right.
God, if only they knew what he was really like.
Lane imagined herself getting out of bed and going into the living room. “Hey, guess what Kramer did to me.” Then he gets out his “sharp friend” and has at them all. Maybe Dad and Pete could nail him, but he was sure to cut someone.
She pictured the straight razor slashing a quick gash across her father’s throat.
I’m not going to risk Mom and Dad, she thought. Better to let him keep on messing with me than...
Lane suddenly realized how vulnerable she was, lying in bed with nothing on but her nightshirt, and Kramer in the house.
They’re probably all drinking. Kramer says, “Mind if I use the facilities?” Somebody points out that the John is just at the end of the hall. Of course, nobody escorts him. He excuses himself from the group and comes straight to my room for another round of threats and feelies.
Lane climbed out of bed. She turned on the lamp. At her dresser she took panties from a drawer and put them on. Though flimsy, the snug fabric felt shielding. She pulled off her nightshirt and stuffed it into a drawer. Shivering, she slipped into a bra. As she fastened its hooks, she remembered the times she’d gone to school without one, hoping to attract Kramer’s attention.
You attracted it, all right.
Had nothing to do with that, she reminded herself. Kramer picked me before I started anything.
For additional protection Lane put on a T-shirt. At the closet she took a pair of thick corduroy pants off a hanger. She stretched the T-shirt down to her thighs, drew the pants up over its tails, and fastened the waist button and closed the zipper. Now, to get at her skin, Kramer would have to yank the shirt up out of her pants. She slipped a belt through the loops and cinched it tight. Then she put on her big, plaid shirt. She buttoned its front but didn’t tuck it in.
She glanced at herself in the mirror.
Not exactly armor, but a lot better than the nightshirt. If Kramer paid another visit, he would have a tough time finding any bare skin below her neck.
Lane climbed into bed. She pulled the top sheet and blanket up to her chin. It felt strange to be completely dressed beneath the covers. Not only strange, but hot.
Better a little discomfort, she thought, than to let that slimy bastard put his hands on me again.
She listened for his footsteps. She knewhe would come.
Suppose he comes, and I’ve got Dad’s gun under the covers and I blow him away? They’ll find the razor on his body.
Lane’s heart began hammering as she thought about it.
I’ll get it.
She climbed out of bed. When she eased the door open, voices and laughter flooded in. They’re having one hell of a party, she thought.
The hallway was clear.
She rushed to her parents’ room. Leaving the light off, she made her way toward the closet where Dad kept his revolver.
In the dim glow from the hallway, she saw the telephone on the nightstand.
And felt a rush of relief.
She turned on the bedside lamp, phoned directory assistance, and got the number for Melanie Benson. She tapped out the number.
As she listened to the quiet ringing, she watched the door. “Come on, come on,” she muttered.
After the fourth ring, someone picked up.
“Yeah?” Riley, sounding annoyed by the interruption.
“It’s me, Lane.”
“All right! What’s up?”
“Kramer’s here. He’s at my house.”
“No shit?”
“He’s having dinnerwith us, for godsake.”
“What the hell?..”
“Never mind. Look, he’s probably going to be here for a couple more hours. I can’t get away, but... I don’t know, I just thought I oughta let you know. He’ll probably be going back to his house afterward, you know? Maybe you want to be waiting for him.”
“Fuckin‘-A.”
“What do you think?”
“Fucker’s gonna be in for the surprise of his life. The lastsurprise of his life.”
“Be careful, okay? He carries that razor with him.”
When they autopsy the fucker, they’ll find it up his ass.
“Good luck, Riley.”
“Yeah, sure. See you around, Lane.” He hung up
Lane cradled the telephone. She rubbed her sweaty hands on the legs of her corduroys, turned off the lamp and hurried to the bathroom. She locked herself in
Sitting on the toilet, she hugged her belly and hunched over and tried to stop shaking.
Forty-six
“Well, here she is,” Pete announced, lifting his cocktail as if toasting Lane as she came into the living room.
“Can’t keep a good woman down,” Hal said.
Larry felt a surge of relief, but it was mixed with apprehension. “Feeling bett
er, honey?” he asked.
“A lot better.”
“That’s terrific.”
“The gang’s all here,” Barbara said.
Now I can relax, Larry told himself. While everyone else had been drinking and munching snacks and apparently having a good time, he’d been drinking and worrying about Lane.
But she must be okay. Thank God.
In a way, though, he’d been comforted by the knowledge that she would be staying in her bedroom away from the action when it came time to pull the stake.
The way she was dressed, she obviously intended to go out there with them. She even wore the same shirt that she’d had on the other night — the one she’d used to conceal the big crucifix from her bedroom.
Barbara seemed to notice the same thing. Smiling at Lane, she patted her belly and said, “You got it?”
Lane looked perplexed for a moment.
“You know.” She patted her belly again.
“Oh, that.” Lane glanced around.
“Jean’s in the kitchen,” Barbara told her.
“It’s on my wall. I’ll get it when the time comes.”
“What’s that?” Hal asked her.
Lane glanced at him and looked away, her face going red, as if she were embarrassed to admit such a thing to her teacher.
Barbara leaned sideways and put a hand on Hal’s knee. “We’re discussing our protection.” With her other hand she lifted the gold chain out of her sweatshirt and showed him Lane’s cross. “She loaned me this for big event. She’s got a giant one for herself. Has to hide it under her shirt so her mom won’t know about it. Jean’s superstitious about being superstitious.”
“Better eighty-six Barb,” Pete said.
“I’m fine,” she protested.
“Must be fine,” Larry said. “Anybody can say ‘superstitious’ twice in one sentence without messing up...”
“You’re the one who’d better watch it, buster,” Barbara told Pete. “You go pulling another stunt like last time and you’ll...”
“ ‘This little piggie went wee-wee-wee-wee all the way home.’ ”
Barbara’s face went crimson. “You shut up.”
“Chow time,” Jean called from the dining room.
“Saved by the bell,” Pete said.
Hal laughed. “Is that B-E-L-L-E?”
“Good one, Hal. The belle of the ball.”
Barbara showed Pete her teeth. “Here’s one belle you won’t ball till Hell freezes over.”
“Oooh, the lady’s pissed. No pun intended.”
“Come on,” Larry said, getting quickly to his feet. “Let’s put on the nose bag.”
“Let’s muzzlePeter.”
When they were all seated at the dining room table, Pete raised his glass of wine and toasted, “To Bonnie. Will she or won’t she?”
“Only her hairdresser knows for sure,” Barbara said.
Larry took a sip of his wine. He felt more than a little light-headed. We’ve all been drinking too much, he thought. Joking around too much. Doesn’t anyone realize?..
Going out to fool with a dead person.
“Let me say something,” he said. They all looked at him except Lane. She was sitting beside Hal, frowning at her empty plate. “Bonnie Saxon was a sweet and beautiful young woman, murdered. She was just a little older than Lane, and she would’ve had a whole life ahead of her if some goddamn nut hadn’t...” Larry’s voice started to tremble, and tears filled his eyes. “It shouldn’t have happened. It was a cruel...” He sobbed. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“You’d better lay off the stuff,” Jean warned.
“Eighty-six Lar,” Barbara blurted.
“I think what Dad said is right.” Lane sounded upset. She looked angry. “This isn’t a movie, you know. That corpse out in the garage wasn’t put together by a special effects department. She was a real girl. Some damn bastard...”
“Lane!”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but really. You’re all kidding around about this thing like it’s fun and games. Will she or won’t she sit up and say boo! Well, it’s real, and she’s really dead. Just because she’s got a stake in her chest, it’s a Halloween party. How do you think her parents would feel if they were here listening to all this shit?”
“Watch your language, young lady.”
“What if that was meout there? Would you all party it up and go out with a video camera?..”
“Stop it!” Jean snapped.
Lane lowered her head. “I just think you should leave the poor girl alone. It’s not right.”
“Nothing good can come of it,” Larry muttered.
“Well, I’m in agreement with that,” Jean said. “I just want the body gone.”
“Now, hold on a minute,” Pete said. “None of us are ghouls, here. Me and Larry know this is serious business. God knows, we faced down her murderer Saturday and damn near got ourselves wasted. So maybe we’re all a little edgy about this business, and maybe we’re carrying on a bit too much. But that’s no reason to call things off. Somebody’s gonna take that stake out of her. If it isn’t us, it’ll be people from the cops, or the coroner’s, or someone. It might as well be us. Our book depends on it, right, Lar?”
“Yeah,” he muttered.
“We’ve gone this far. We’ve gotta see it through.” Looking at Lane, he added, “It’s not like we’ll be desecrating the body. The girl’s already been desecrated by that lunatic Uriah. We pull out the stake, we’ll be un-desecrating her. It’ll be doing her a favor.”
“Especially if she’s a vampire,” Barbara said.
Jean, groaning, rolled her eyes upward.
“What do you think, Hal?” Barbara asked.
Solemnly, he shook his head. “I’m just here as an impartial observer. But I have to say that Larry and Pete won’t have much of a book if they don’t go ahead with pulling out the stake.”
“My man,” Pete said.
“I think we should eat before the roast gets cold,” Jean said.
Nobody spoke much during the meal. Larry felt ravenous. As he forked beef and mashed potatoes into his mouth, he noticed that the others were also gobbling their food as if they’d been starved. Everyone except Lane. When the others were done, her plate looked as if it had hardly been touched.
“Are we ready, pardner?” Pete asked.
“As we’ll ever be,” Larry said, his heart suddenly thumping so hard he felt dizzy.
“Hang on, I’ll get my camera.”
“Think I’ll pay a visit to Mr. Toilet,” Barbara said.
They both left the room.
“That was a delicious dinner, Jean,” Hal said.
“Well, thank you. I made some Black Forest pie for dessert, but I think we should wait and have it afterward. Let the boys get this nonsense out of their systems first.”
Pete returned with the camcorder he’d left in the living room. “Let’s hope this one survives the night,” he said.
“Just don’t pull any cute tricks like last time,” Jean told him.
“Not a chance.”
When Barbara came back, she said, “All set.”
They went to the kitchen door. As Larry slid it open, Jean said, “I think I’d better pay a visit, too. Go on ahead. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Right,” Pete said. “Let’s not have any more accidents.”
The others followed Larry outside. He started to shudder as he strode toward the garage. Hunching over, he hugged his chest. He clenched his teeth.
Oh Bonnie, he thought. Here we come, ready or not.
Stopping at the garage door, he dug into a front pocket of his pants. He brought out the keys. The padlock felt like ice in his hand as he tried to hold it steady. The key shook, but finally he got it in. He twisted it and the lock dropped open. He removed it, flipped away the latch, and tugged the door sideways a few feet. He dropped the padlock into his pocket, where it pressed heavy and cold against his thigh.
Jean entered ahea
d of them. Seconds later the overhead bulb came on and the others stepped into the garage.
Larry was surprised to see the ladder down. Had someone been in here?
Then he remembered that they hadn’t put it up again after the last try.
He stared at the dark opening to the attic.
“What’s this?” Hal nudged Pete’s bow, which lay on the concrete floor beside the quiver of arrows.
“Our insurance,” Pete told him. “Just in case she gets lively after we take out the stake. Hey, maybe you’d like to keep her covered with that. I’ll be busy filming. Any good at archery?”
“I used to be pretty fair,” he said, as he picked up the bow. “I’m no William Tell but...”
“It’ll be point-blank.”
“It won’t be necessary,” Jean said to Hal. “Just more of their foolishness.”
“Well, I’ll be happy to play along.” He left the quiver on the floor, but slipped an arrow out.
“Good man,” Pete said. “Just go for the heart if she turns out to be Dracula’s daughter.”
Hal chuckled softly and nodded.
Pete took a step toward his wife and raised the camera toward her.
“No way, Jose.”
“Hey, come on.”
“And break this one?”
“Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Screw you.”
“Come on, Barb! This is no time to be...”
“I’ll do it,” Jean offered. “Show me how it works.”
“Great. Just get us coming down with the coffin. Then I’ll take over and get Larry when he unsticks the babe.” He gave the camera to Jean, showed her how to hold it, and pointed out the viewfinder. “It’s all set,” he said. “Automatic focus, the whole ball of wax. Just push this button here, and you’re rolling.”
He turned away from her. He grinned at Larry and rubbed his hands together. “Anything you want to say for our home viewers?”
“Let’s just do it,” he said. His voice came out shaky.
Pete slapped his upper arm, then hurried past him to the ladder. As he started to climb, he glanced back at Jean. “You getting this?”
“Yeah.”
Larry waited until Pete crawled onto the attic floor. Then he began climbing. Though he didn’t feel especially cold, he couldn’t stop shaking. His bowels ached. His legs seemed so weak that he feared they might give out.
The Stake Page 40
