Authors: Richard Laymon

Alarums (17 page)

BOOK: Alarums

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'She never loved Dad,' Melanie said. 'She just wanted his money.'

'But that doesn't mean she tried to kill him,' Bodie pointed out.

Melanie stabbed him with her eyes.

He grimaced. 'Woops.'

'What are you talking about?' Pen asked. 'Tried to kill Dad?'

Bodie tried to look sorry for his slip of the tongue. With a shrug, he said, 'Maybe you'd better tell her, Melanie.'

'Neat play.'

'It just came out.'

'I wish somebody would tell me what the hell's going on,' Pen demanded. 'My God, I think I have a right to know. He's my father, too.'

Leaning back against the refrigerator door, Melanie folded her arms across her chest. She sighed, gave Bodie another fierce glance, then met Pen's eyes. 'Joyce and Harrison fixed it up so Dad would get hit by the car.'

Pen's eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open. She shook her head. That's insane,' she muttered.

'I told you she wouldn't listen.'

'Go on,' Bodie urged. Tell her the rest.'

'What's the point?'

Bodie looked at Pen. ' Harrison was driving the car that ran your father down. Melanie saw him. It was that vision she had last night in the hospital room.'

'I saw him behind the windshield,' Melanie said. 'It was as if I were looking with Dad's eyes.'

'You can't make an accusation like that based on nothing more than… your imagination.'

'It wasn't my imagination.'

'Maybe it was telepathy,' Bodie suggested. 'Maybe your father communicated it to her.'

'Don't tell me you believe it, too?'

'I don't know. I guess maybe I do.'

'You're both bananas.'

Bodie wondered if, perhaps, Pen was playing it a bit too skeptical.

'Joyce made the dinner reservations,' Melanie said, a certain eagerness sneaking into her voice. 'She knew Dad always parked behind the bank, knew he'd have to cross the street. Harrison parked and waited till Dad started across.'

'It could've happened that way,' Bodie said.

'It did.'

'You'd need proof,' Pen told her. 'You can't base this whole thing on some kind of psychic experience.'

'Let's get proof,' Bodie suggested.

'I already know,' Melanie said.

'Your visions aren't always right,' Pen pointed out. 'Remember Dad's honeymoon?'

'That was a fluke.'

'Maybe this is a fluke.'

'It's not.'

'Then let's get some proof we can take to the police,' Bodie said.

Melanie sighed.

'We'd need to take a look at Harrison 's car,' Pen said. 'If he hit Dad, the car might've sustained some damage. And there'd be… traces. Even if he tried to wash it off…'

'Joyce claimed it was a sports car,' Bodie said. ' Harrison drives a Mercedes.'

'Joyce could've lied,' Melanie said.

' Harrison owns a Porsche,' said Pen. 'He has a Mercedes and a Porsche.'

'You would know that.' Melanie smirked at Bodie. They were lovers, you know.'

'We were not lovers.'

'Uh-huh, sure.'

'We went out a few times, that's all.'

'Do you know where he lives?' Bodie asked.

'Of course she does.'

Bodie wished he hadn't found out about Pen and Harrison. Thoughts of them together… 'Let's drive out to his place,' he said quickly, 'and see if we can get a look at his Porsche.'

Melanie shrugged. 'I guess it can't hurt.'

'Why don't we have breakfast first?' Bodie suggested. 'I'm starving.'

'You and your stomach.'

' Harrison 's house is only a few miles from here,' Pen said. 'Why don't we eat afterwards?'

'Two against one,' he said, 'it ain't fair.'

***

Bodie drove west on San Vicente. Melanie sat in the van's passenger seat. Pen, crouched behind them, held onto the seatbacks, her left hand inches from Bodie's shoulder. Her face was in the gap, and he saw it each time he looked to the right. Her shampoo, or perfume, had a fresh clean scent.

Bodie's stomach didn't feel right - maybe simple hunger, maybe being so close to Pen, or maybe a reaction to finding out about her and Harrison. Lovers? She'd denied it. But she had admitted going with him. Bodie didn't like that. The guy was movie-star handsome, cool and smooth.

Drives a fucking Porsche.

An asshole.

Even if they hadn't been lovers, Pen must've liked him. They must've kissed. He must've had his hands on her.

Such thoughts didn't improve the condition of Bodie's stomach.

Whatever went on between them, he told himself, it's over now. Pen doesn't seem to like him. Maybe he dumped her. I hope she's the one who did the dumping.

'Make a left at the light,' she said.

Bodie steered into the turn pocket and waited for the green arrow.

'You know,' Melanie said, 'he probably didn't use his own car.'

'He's arrogant enough,' said Pen. 'Maybe he did.'

'Arrogant doesn't mean stupid.'

'It's still worth checking,' Bodie told them, and made the turn.

'You'll want to hang a right on the third street down.'

He nodded.

'Either rented a car or stole one.'

'Not necessarily,' Pen said. 'Renting would leave a trail.'

'He could've paid cash.'

'You have to show ID. Maybe he's got a fake ID, but that's tricky to pull off. The driver's license has your photo.'

'It's not that tricky,' Melanie argued.

'Besides, the rental person could identify him.'

'Not if he wore a disguise.'

'I don't think he'd do anything that elaborate - and risky. As you said, he's not stupid. He would know that the simpler he made it, the less chance of tripping up.'

Bodie turned right. The residential street was shaded by trees. The houses, mostly two stories, looked old but well kept. A peaceful neighborhood, its occupants probably well-off if not filthy rich.

'Two blocks,' Pen told him. 'Then make a left.'

'He must've stolen it, then,' Melanie said.

'That's not so simple, either. It's not as easy as they make it look on TV. Especially if we're talking about a sports car. You can't just jump in and hotwire the thing in five seconds and take off. You've got to bypass the steering wheel lock - and most of these newer cars have alarm systems.'

'Sports cars get stolen all the time,' Melanie told her. 'Mostly by pros, guys with the equipment to pull the ignition…'

'You sound like a pro yourself,' Bodie said.

'I've written about this kind of stuff. I had to do some research.'

'I just can't believe he would use his own car,' Melanie said.

'There must be a thousand Porsches in LA. At least. He slaps some stolen plates on his Porsche before he goes after Dad, and he's home free as long as he doesn't take it in for repairs. He's got the Mercedes. He can leave the Porsche in his garage for a few weeks, then maybe get it repaired out of state. Turn here, Bodie, then take the first left.'

He slowed, steered around the corner, saw the intersection a short distance ahead, and flicked the arm of his turn signal.

'It'll be the third house on the right,' Pen said. 'What'll we do,' Bodie asked, 'drop in and ask to see his Porsche?'

'Just go by, for starters. Don't even slow down.'

Even as he made the turn, he spotted Harrison 's gray Mercedes parked in the driveway of the third house. 'Damn it,' Melanie muttered.

'Too bad he's not at mass with Joyce,' Bodie said.

Harrison 's home, unlike those of his neighbors, was a single-story ranch house. It looked more modern than the others. Red brick, a red tile roof, white trim. In front of the Mercedes stood a wrought-iron gate.

Pen's head blocked Bodie's view as she strained forward between the seats to look out Melanie's window. When she settled back, they were beyond the house.

'The Porsche must be in his garage,' she said.

'So what'll we do?' Bodie asked.

'We can't do anything while he's there.'

'Why don't we get some breakfast?'

'All right.'

He stopped at the corner, waited for a Mustang to go by, then drove through the intersection and saw, parked at the curb, a black Lincoln Continental. His heart gave a kick.

'My God,' Melanie gasped.

Bodie hit the brakes.

Pen leaned forward again. 'It's Dad's, all right.'

'Are you sure?'

'That pipe holder on the dash? I gave it to him for Christmas a few years ago.'

Bodie shook his head. 'Guess who's not at mass.'

'That miserable bitch,' Pen muttered. 'She really is making it with… oh, man. Oh, that dirty…'

'I knew it all along.' Melanie sounded proud of herself.

'God, if Dad ever found out he'd die. How could she do something like this!' Pen dropped backward out of sight. 'I want to go home,' she said in a small voice.

Bodie started his van moving again.

'Not to her home.' She sniffed. 'I never want to see her again.'

Melanie grinned.

'Your apartment?' Bodie asked.

'Please.'

'What about the caller?'

'Who cares?'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bodie insisted on escorting Pen up to her apartment. Melanie stayed with them. This time, no note had been left under the door.

'Are you sure you'll be all right here?' Bodie asked.

'I just need to be alone.'

'I don't know why you're so upset all of a sudden,' Melanie said. 'I thought you already believed they were screwing around. All that happened is that we confirmed it.'

'Yeah, we confirmed it. I'll see you guys later, okay? Could you do me a real favor and bring my stuff over sometime? I really don't want to go back there unless I have to.'

'Sure, we'll do that,' Bodie said. 'Maybe you should reconnect one of your phones in case we need to get in touch about something.'

She nodded.

Then they were gone.

Pen sat on her sofa, propped her elbows on her knees, and rested her chin on her hands. She stared at the wall.

Hell no, she hadn't believed that Joyce was making it with Harrison. She'd suspected it, of course, but she hadn't believed. It was too damned outrageous.

Probably in Harrison 's bed right now, this instant, fucking. And Dad in the hospital, barely alive.

And yeah they did it yesterday, too. Right from the hospital to Dad's home and fucked in Dad's bed.

What kind of scum is she?

The kind of scum, maybe, who would try to kill Dad. Why not? A piece of shit like that doesn't have any conscience.

How about Harrison?

Yeah, how about him.

Dad trusted him, treated him like a son, thought I'd lost my mind when I refused to see the guy any more, probably had our wedding all planned in his head and was looking forward to the grandchildren. I damn near wept at the pitiful look on his face. 'You two are so perfect for each other.' Right, Dad, but he's a shallow egocentric sadistic sleaze. Only I couldn't hurt you by telling on him. Big mistake.

Hey, Dad, this apple of your eye Harrison raped me. What do you think about that? He wasn't any too gentle about it, either. Want to see the bruises, the teeth-marks?

Trembling, Pen leaned back against the cushions of the sofa. She hugged a corduroy-covered pillow to her chest.

***

She'd been a fool to let him take her to his home that night.

But they'd had dinner at Scandia where he'd been charming and amusing and they had shared two bottles of cabernet sauvignon after the margaritas. She was feeling no pain by the time they left.

'What're we doing here?' she asked when she found his car stopped in the driveway of his house.

'The Maltese Falcon
. Starts in five minutes. You want to watch it, don't you?'

'We're gonna watch TV?'

'Have some coffee, sober up, drive you home after.'

Her mind whispered a warning, but she ignored it. They went inside. She sat on the couch. Harrison took off his jacket and necktie, and turned on the television. He went into the kitchen to make coffee. When he returned, he sat beside her. He held her hand, but that was all right.

He went away during the first commercial and came back with mugs of coffee.

'I bet you didn't know I was a private eye. A regular Sam Spade.'

'You were a private eye?'

'Bet you didn't know that.'

'Bet I don't believe it.'

He went away. Pen drank some coffee. He came back with a shoe box and sat beside her, the box on his lap. He lifted out a holstered revolver. 'My snub-nose.38,' he said.

Here we are, drunk, and he's got a gun in his hand. 'Let's see,' she said. He handed it to her. She removed it from the holster and turned the barrel toward her face.

'Hey, watch out.'

The bullet heads were visible inside the cylinder holes. 'Christ, it's loaded.'

'Of course.'

She put it on the coffee table at their knees. 'Ever shoot someone?'

'No, but I had to draw it a couple times. The firm I worked for did some security work.'

BOOK: Alarums

9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

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