Authors: Richard Laymon
Alarums (20 page)
'No!' he snapped. He grabbed her shoulder.
'What time is it?'
'Mel, no. We can't.'
'Come on, what time is it?'
He checked. 'Ten till one.'
'We've got at least fifteen minutes.'
'What do you want to do in there?' he asked. His voice was shaky, his heart thumping wildly.
'Just take a quick look around.'
'God, Mel.'
'There might be evidence. I'm going in.'
'No!'
'Let go of me.'
He dropped his hand from her shoulder.
He entered the kitchen behind Melanie. He felt sick. Breaking into the garage was bad enough. This was utter madness.
He realized he wanted badly to urinate.
If we're caught in here…
Why the hell didn't Harrison
lock his back door?
Maybe someone's here!
Don't even think that.
The house was silent.
What if he's got a silent alarm?
'What if he's got a silent alarm?' Bodie whispered. 'It might be tied in directly to the police or a security patrol.'
Melanie ignored him.
'Two minutes,' he said. 'You've got two minutes, then we're out of here even if I have to drag you.'
They passed a bathroom. He could sure use it. He didn't dare.
He followed Melanie into a bedroom.
The covers and top sheet hung off the foot of the king-size bed. The pillows were mashed. Near the center of the blue satin bottom sheet was a wet place.
Melanie, leaning over, swiped at it with her forefinger. She rubbed her fingertip with the ball of her thumb, then sniffed it.
Bodie struggled not to gag.
She turned to him. A corner of her mouth twitched. 'Guess we know what they've been doing.'
Bodie grabbed her wrist. 'We're getting out of here now.'
'Okay, okay, don't pull.'
Letting go, he rushed ahead of her - out the bedroom, down a corridor to the living room, across the living room to the foyer. He opened the front door. Melanie stepped out. He twisted his hand on the knob, remembered that Melanie had left prints on the back door, and wondered if he should race through the house to wipe them off.
A patrol car might be racing toward the house right now.
He stepped outside and pulled the door shut by its edge.
They walked slowly over the flagstones to the sidewalk.
When they reached the end of the block, Bodie realized they were safe. He filled his lungs. His heart was still hammering. He still had to urinate, but the need wasn't as strong as before.
***
They climbed into the van. He pulled away. 'Thank God that's over,' he said.
'We didn't accomplish much.'
'We found out Harrison 's car isn't smashed up. And I presume your sniff-test eliminated the possibility that their relationship was purely Platonic.'
'I wish I could be there when they get back from the hospital.'
'They'd no doubt have some very interesting comments about you.'
'That's right.'
'You should've thought about that before you made the call.'
'I did. My message wasn't just to get rid of them. It was to worry them, stir things up.'
'I'm sure you succeeded. And when Harrison finds the busted garage window, he'll really get stirred up. He'll know exactly who did it. And why.'
'That's right,' she said calmly.
'Maybe we'd better move in with Pen.'
'Oh, you'd like that.'
'What I wouldn't like is facing Harrison after what we did. He'll know what we were up to.'
'I don't care what he thinks.'
'Do you care what he might do?'
'He won't bring in the cops, if that's what you're afraid of.'
'If he's innocent…'
'He isn't innocent.'
'If he's not innocent, that's even worse.'
***
When they entered the house, Bodie hurried ahead of Melanie. 'My teeth are floating,' he said.
'Hey, I left my purse in the van.'
He tossed the keys to her and rushed into the bathroom. He swung the door shut, unzipped, aimed at the toilet and released the tight hold he'd been keeping for so long. He sighed. He counted the seconds until he was done. Sixty-three. No record. His record was ninety-eight seconds one night last year after walking back to his apartment from a beer drinking session at Sparkey's.
He zipped up, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands.
Melanie should wash her hands,
he thought.
She actually touched that stuff. And sniffed it.
The girl is definitely mad.
He dried his hands and left the bathroom.
Melanie didn't seem to be back yet. He went to the kitchen. The thoughts of Sparkey's had whetted his thirst. He found several bottles of Corona beer in the refrigerator. Taking one out, he felt a small tug of guilt.
It's not as if I'm stealing the thing,
he told himself.
Joyce said we should make ourselves at home.
He searched a drawer, found a bottle opener, and pried off the cap.
She might not be quite so generous, however, if she knew what we've been doing.
Hell, it isn't her beer, anyway. It's Whit's. He's the breadwinner around here, the beer-winner. He certainly wouldn't begrudge me a brew. Look what I've gone through on his behalf.
Bodie took a drink. It was cold and very good. He sat at the table and drank some more.
Poor sod,
he thought.
They certainly screwed you over, Whit. Your law partner and your dear wife. You'll have some nasty surprises if you ever come to.
But did they run you down? Ah, there's the question.
Nice to make them pay, if they did.
And how do we go about that? Harrison, the slime, was smart enough not to use his own car. So where do we go from here?
I guess we don't have to go anywhere from here. Melanie has already hurled the crapola into the fan. We only have to sit back and watch where it flies.
Perchance to duck.
Taking her one long time to fetch her purse.
Bodie suddenly knew why.
He set down his beer bottle and sighed.
'Melanie,' he muttered. 'Oh, for Christsake.'
He walked out to the street. His van was gone, all right.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Pen carried her laundry basket down the stairs and past the pool in the courtyard. The apartment building was silent and she saw no one. A typical Sunday afternoon. The tenants were either gone, or hidden away in their rooms.
She entered the short passageway between the courtyard and alley. The utility room's door stood ajar. It was supposed to be kept locked to prevent vandalism and unauthorized use of the machines. Alicia, from the corner apartment, had told her once about walking in on a shopping cart lady doing her wash - a filthy woman who screeched and jibbered like a lunatic when Alicia confronted her.
Pen set down her basket and swung the door wide. She peered into the gloom. Seeing no one, she reached around the corner and turned on the overhead light. The room looked deserted. The two washers and two driers were silent. She picked up her basket and entered.
The washing machines were top loaders. She opened each and looked inside. They were empty.
My lucky day,
she thought.
She had separated her laundry before coming down. Bending over her basket, she lifted out a bundle of white fabrics. A sock fell to the floor on its way to the machine. She squatted to pick it up.
'Beautiful ass.'
She flinched. Her head snapped around so fast she hurt her neck.
In the doorway stood Manny Hammond from 202. He'd played football at USC and usually wore a jersey to remind everyone of his glory days. This afternoon, he wasn't wearing the jersey - just a pair of faded red gym shorts and thongs. The shorts were extremely tight.
'You startled me,' Pen said. She picked up the sock and dropped it into the machine.
'You gotta loosen up.'
'I'll keep that in mind.'
Damn it, where'd he come from?
'Aren't you missing a game on TV?' she asked.
'Why would I watch a game when I can watch you?' He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his ankles, and folded his arms across his massive chest.
With a sigh, Pen crouched to pick up her bleach and detergent. She could feel his gaze. She straightened up. Her hand trembled as she filled the measuring cup.
'Gotcha rattled, huh?'
'You didn't have to sneak up on me like that,' she said, keeping her eyes away from him as she dumped the detergent, then the bleach, into the washer. She closed the lid. She turned on the machine and heard water rush in.
'Why don't you toss in the rest?' he suggested, grinning. That stuff you got on looks like it could use a good wash.'
'Some other time.'
'No time like the present. Come on, honey, it's laundry day. Get everything good and clean.'
She glared at him, heat spreading over her face. 'Why don't you take a hike, Manny?'
He grinned. 'Bet you say that to all the guys.'
'Just the jerks.' Embarrassed and angry, she picked up her basket and tumbled its contents into the other washer.
'You aren't a dyke, are you?'
'Shut the hell up.'
'I mean, 'cause it'd be a shame, a piece like you. A real loss to mankind.'
She didn't bother with the measuring cup. She shook the detergent into the machine and set the basket aside. 'Yeah, I guess you are a dyke.'
She slammed the lid down and whirled around. 'I'm not a lesbian and you're a piece of shit.'
He looked amused. 'That's no way to talk. Glad to hear you're not a dyke, though. So what is it, you just frigid?'
Seething, Pen turned away. She started the washer and picked up her empty basket. With a shaking hand, she set the detergent and bleach inside it. She held the basket with its edge against her belly and faced Manny.
'Not leaving already, are you?' He stepped into the middle of the doorway.
'Please move,' she said.
'When was the last time you had a good fucking?'
'Get out of my way.'
'That's gotta be your problem, you know. And I'm just the guy to help you with that.' He lowered a hand and patted the front of his shorts. It was obvious from the bulge that he had an erection. 'I'm well equipped to handle that problem for you, honey. Wanta see?' Grinning, he drew the shorts down a fraction.
'Stop it.'
'Tell you what. Why don't you toss these in with your stuff? All your stuff. Know what I mean? And I'll show you what it's like to…'
'Move,' Pen said and walked toward him, the basket braced in front of her.
'Hey, now. This is your big chance.'
'Move!' she yelled in his face.
He flinched and stepped aside.
Pen walked past him, half expecting to be grabbed.
He muttered, 'Cunt.' But he kept his hands to himself.
She hurried through the doorway, out of the shadowed area and into the sunlight. She was trembling and she had a hard time catching her breath. At the foot of the stairs, she looked back.
Manny, standing near the corner of the pool, raised his middle finger and rotated it.
Pen hurried up the stairs, along the balcony to her apartment, and unlocked the door. Inside, she leaned against the door. Her chest hurt. She panted for air.
The filthy bastard.
When was the last time you had a good fucking?
I wanted to talk to you about my big hard cock and your hot juicy cunt.
Her legs folded. She slid down the door and stared over the tops of her upraised knees.
Manny?
The voice wasn't quite the same, but he could've disguised it when he made the calls.
Manny.
Over in 202. With a clear view of her front door and windows. Knowing who she saw and when. Knowing when she was here and when she was gone and when she went to bed.
Knowing when she was alone.
Manny.
***
Melanie must have made it.
She would've been back around one-twenty, no later than one-thirty, if she'd reached Harrison 's house, found his Mercedes in the driveway, and given up.
So she must've beaten him back to the house, snuck in the back door, and hidden herself. In the closet, or maybe under the bed.
Bodie looked at his wristwatch. Two minutes had passed since the last time. It was now five till two.
If Melanie had turned back, she would've been here half an hour ago.
He stared at the empty beer bottle as he turned it slowly in his fingers.
And what, perchance, do I do about this curious turn of events?
For starters, have another beer.
Bodie got up and took another Corona from the refrigerator. He opened it. This one, he took outside. He stretched out on the lounger. The mild breeze kept the sun from feeling too hot. Closing his eyes, he pictured the way Pen had looked this morning when she was on the same lounger.
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