Endless Night (37 page)

Dad’s eyes lit up when he walked in.

Sharon got excited when she found that she could order a breakfast burrito with egg and chorizo inside it.

Andy, studying the menu, muttered, “All right!” when he discovered French toast made with cinnamon raisin bread.

For Jody, the best thing about Kactus Kate’s was the waitress, a blonde in her twenties, over six feet tall, who chomped on chewing gum as she swaggered over to the table.

According to the plastic pin above her left breast, her name was Bess.

Now Bess is picturesque, Jody thought.

She wore snakeskin boots that reached up almost to her knees, skintight blue jeans, a belt with an enormous brass buckle that showed a bucking horse, and a purple T-shirt decorated with a white fringe in a deep V down her chest. Both sleeves of her T-shirt were turned up, baring her upper arms. Her left arm looked smooth and unmarked. On her right, though, was the tattoo of a broken heart and the message, “BORN TO BUST HEARTS AND BRONCOS.” From the lobes of her ears dangled small, silver tomahawks.

After she’d brought over the coffee and hot chocolate, Sharon waited until she was out of earshot, then said, “I love that outfit.”

“You’d look great in it,” Dad told her. “You might want to skip the tattoos, though.”

“Too late for that.”

Andy leaned toward her. “What’ve you got?”

Sharon grinned. “The chances of you finding out are slim to none.”

“Where are they?” Andy persisted.

“It, not they. And never mind. Drink your cocoa.”

Andy and Jody started to work on their drinks, biting and sucking their way through soft white piles of whipping cream before finding the hot chocolate underneath.

When Bess came back to take their orders, she squeezed Andy’s shoulder and said, “What’s it gonna be for you, Sparkie?”

He blushed.

Maybe because the waitress had a hand on him. Maybe because she’d called him Sparkie.

Why’d she call him that? Jody wondered. Just to be colorful?

Andy stammered a bit as he ordered the French toast on the cinnamon raisin bread, and a side of sausage links.

That sounded good to Jody, so she asked for the same.

Sharon ordered the chorizo and egg burrito. Bess smiled at Dad and said, “What’ll it be for you, Sugar?”

“I’ll try one of those burritos, too. Probably live to regret it, but ...” He shrugged.

“You’re gonna
swoon
for it. Swoon and drool. We got the best chorizo in five counties. It’s all-fired asskickin’ hot, though, so you don’t wanta be sippin’ coffee with it. Need a drink that’ll cool down the fire, like a Pepsi.”

They all decided to have Pepsis with their breakfast. As Bess headed for the kitchen, Jody said, “How’s she for local color?”

“What a babe,” Andy said.

Sharon raised an eyebrow. “Ass-kickin’?”

“She might be a little far out in left field,” Dad said, “but it sure is nice to be in a place where the waitress talks American.”

“Ooo, Dad. Naughty. You’re such a bigot.”

“That’s me.” He took a sip of coffee, then set down the mug. “I wanta check out the pictures and things. Anybody else?”

“I wouldn’t mind a closer look,” Sharon said.

The two of them left the table. Dad headed straight for the picture of Wild Bill, Sharon at his side.

“Is your father a Republican?” Andy asked.

“Nope, a fascist storm trooper.”

“You mean like a Nazi?”

She laughed. “Yeah, only worse.”

“Those Nazis made lampshades out of skin. Real human skin. Did you know that? I saw this really gross book that this kid had at school. It showed all these
pictures.
They were so incredibly gross you wouldn’t believe it.”

“You sound like you
loved
them.”

He shrugged. “Well, they were pretty horrible in a way. But they were neat. Some of them showed all these women lined up to get gassed. The Nazis tricked them into thinking they were going in to take a shower, only the shower room was really this gigantic gas chamber. Anyway, none of them had on a stitch of clothes. I mean, you could see everything.”

“You
would
like that.”

He shrugged. “A lot of them were sort of fat and ugly, but ...”

“Jeez, Andy.”

“Yeah, okay. But anyway, this other picture showed a lampshade. It just looked like any normal lampshade, pretty much. It had somebody’s tattoo on it, though. A bird. Some sort of bird, like an eagle or something. It looked like it was flying under the moon or the sun, but that was actually the guy’s nipple.”

“That’s nauseating.”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of cool.”

“No it’s not.” Jody stared at him. His parents and sister had just been butchered. How could he be
talking
about things like lampshades of human skin and naked women in line to be murdered, much less describing them with such relish?

And had he forgotten about the dead guy on the floor of his bedroom who’d been wearing
pants
made out of skin?

Pants. That’s even worse than a lampshade. They hadn’t been in some book, either. They’d been on a real guy in Andy’s own bedroom.

And he’s all excited about a picture of a lampshade?

That’s crazy.

Maybe this is like denial, Jody thought. Or compensating, or something. One of those psychological things people do when they’ve gotten their heads screwed up.

“I’d sure like to see that tattoo,” Andy whispered.

“Knock it off about the lampshade, okay?”

“Not that,” he said. “Sharon’s. I bet it’s on one of her boobs.”

Jody elbowed him fairly hard.

“Hey!”

“Don’t talk about people’s boobs.”

She saw Andy’s eyes lower to hers.

“Cut it out!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down.”

“Anyway, that might not even be where her tattoo is. It might be on her butt, for instance.”

Andy frowned. “That’d be an awful place for one.”

“I wouldn’t want one anywhere.”

He leaned close and whispered, “Maybe it’s on her poon.”

“On her
what
?”

“You know, her
poon.”

“No, I
don’t
know.”

“Down there.” He pointed toward Jody’s lap.

She whacked the back of his hand.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“Good. You oughta have your mouth washed out with soap.”

“You don’t have to hit.”

“You’d just better not go around pointing like that again. Jeez! Somebody might’ve seen you.”

“Nobody’s looking.”

“How would you like it if I pointed down at your you-know-what?”

Andy grinned. “My peter?”

“SHHHH! We’re in a
public
place. Now, stop it!”

“Okay.” He leaned close to Jody and whispered, “Peter peter peter peter.”

“Idiot.”

“Poon poon poon poon.”

“What’re you doing, turning into a five-year-old?”

He chanted, “Poon and Peter sitting in a tree, f-u-c-k-i-n-g. First came ...”

Jody clapped a hand across his mouth and held it there. “Shut up! You’re not funny.”

He nodded as if he wanted to assure her that he was very funny indeed.

“We’ll see how funny Sharon thinks you are,” Jody said. Smiling, she lowered her hand.

Andy had quit smiling. His eyes searched the cafe until he spotted Sharon. She was standing beside Jack. They were both looking up at a painting of a moonlit desert.

“I think she’ll be very interested,” Jody said, “in your theories about the location of her tattoo.”

“Go ahead and tell.”

“I plan to.”

“I dare you.”

Jody grinned. The way her face felt, she was sure it must be a wonderfully
mean
grin. “Sharon probably already
knows
what a poon is, don’t you suppose? I mean, she’s a cop. She’s probably heard just about everything. But I bet you it isn’t one of her favorite words. We women aren’t usually very amused by dirty words about that particular place.”

Andy suddenly grimaced. “You won’t really tell, will you?”

“It’d serve you right.”

He was beginning to look desperate. “Come on, Jody. You won’t, will you?”

“Give me one good reason.”

“I don’t knowwww. Because we’re friends?”

When he said that, Jody’s throat went tight. She hadn’t expected that. She’d been angry, but she’d just started to enjoy taunting him. It came as a surprise to find herself suddenly on the verge of tears. “Yeah,” she said. “We’re ...” She couldn’t say more, so instead she reached down and patted his leg.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world,” he whispered.

She swallowed. “Shut up, okay?”

“I promise, I’ll never say peter or poon again.”

“Or fuck,” Jody muttered. And couldn’t believe that she’d said it.

“I didn’t say fuck,” Andy protested.

“You spelled it. Same difference.”

“Okay, I’ll never ...”

“Uh-oh, here comes breakfast. Cut out the dirty stuff.”

Bess walked toward them, carrying a huge tray loaded with plates and glasses of Pepsi.

“That’s a neat tattoo on your arm there,” Andy said as she set the tray on a fold-up stand.

“Well thanks, Sparkie.”

“Do you have any others?”

“You bet.”

“Can I see ’em?”

Jody groaned.

Bess let out a bark of laughter. She grinned at Jody. “Your brother here’s sure a little pistol, ain’t he?”

“Yeah.” Her face was burning. “A pistol, all right. And he keeps going off by accident.”

Dad and Sharon came back to the table, but stood aside and waited until Bess finished setting out the breakfast. Then they slid into their booth.

“Anything interesting happen while we were gone?” Dad asked.

Andy gave Jody a nervous glance.

“Not much,” she said. “How was the stuff?”

“Not bad.”

“You two should take a look around before we leave,” Sharon told them. “Some of it’s really neat.”

“I bet you’d really like the Apache squaw,” Dad said to Andy. “Her photo’s down at the far end near the restrooms.”

“Why would Andy like it so much?” Jody asked. “Is she naked or something?”

“She’s minus her nose.”

“She looks
awful,
” Sharon said.

“Lopping off a gal’s schnoz was an old Apache punishment for adultery.”

“Those Apaches must’ve been loads of fun,” Sharon said.

As Dad laughed, Jody asked him, “Why do you suppose Andy would think
that’s
so great? Have you turned into a psychic?”

Dad shrugged. “It’s one of those guy things.”

“Remind me never to marry one,” Sharon said, and shoved a forkful of burrito into her mouth.

“The Nazis used to make lampshades out of skin,” Andy said, leaning toward her. “Human skin.”

“I’m so glad you shared that with us, Andrew.”

“He’s so gross,” Jody said.

“Guys generally are,” Sharon told her. “But they do have other characteristics that compensate for it. Some do, anyway. I’m not so sure about Andy.”

Andy blushed and laughed as if he’d been paid a major compliment.

Jody nudged him. “That was an
insult,
you dork.”

“Language,” Dad told her.

“Language? Me? You should hear what ...”

“Superb French toast,” Andy interrupted. “I think it’s the cinnamon bread.”

He and Jody stared at each other for a few moments.

I almost told on him, she realized.

She was glad that he’d stopped her in time.

She picked up her knife and fork, and began to cut into her French toast. “So, what are we doing after breakfast?”

“I guess we’ll go back to the motel and check out,” Dad said.

“Should we try to find a store first? Andy needs some new clothes.”

Dad glanced at his wristwatch. “We’ll have to see how late it is when we get done here.”

Part Eight

Simon Says

Chapter Thirty-four

Here we go. When I left off, last time, I’d just hung up the phone after a chat with Ranch. A lot has happened since then. A lot of blood has been spilled. Now, I’ve finally got some free time to talk about it all, so here goes.

Quick as I could manage after hanging up, I drove over to Ranch’s. We took his Cadillac to Dusty’s place and from there we headed for Indio.

We made good time, too.

But not good enough.

When we got there, I told Ranch to pull into the Texaco. He needed the gas, anyway, so he stopped at the self-service pumps and I got out to fill the tank for him.

Pumping the gas gave me a good chance to scope out the parking lot of the Traveler’s Roost motel across the street. The bozo on the phone, Frank, had said he could see Fargo’s car and it was a blue Ford.

Over at the parking lot, most of the spaces were empty. Only a couple of vans, a Jeep and three regular cars were still there. Not one of them was blue.

Hardly any wonder, when you figure it was almost eleven o’clock by then. Eleven’s checkout time for most motels. So just about everyone had already hit the road—the Fargo clan included.

We’d missed them.

It made my stomach feel like hell.

But I had gas to finish pumping, so I stood there and kept at it.

I was still Simone, by the way. I wore my brown wig, since the platinum blond from last night seemed too flamboyant for daytime and I didn’t want to draw a lot of attention to myself. In the brown hair, I looked feminine but subdued.

My face had been horrid this morning (remember what that son-of a-bitch Henry the dog did to me last night?), so we stopped in Desert Hot Springs and I sent Ranch into a drugstore for Band-Aids and makeup. While we drove on, I fixed myself up. Just one large bandage was enough to cover the bites on my cheekbone (lucky for me that fucking Henry wasn’t a Doberman), and I used makeup to hide the bruising.

I’d already gotten out of my bloody sundress before leaving Jody’s house. I put on one of her T-shirts. Most of them looked like souvenirs from vacations or trips to Disneyland, but I managed to find a pink one that didn’t have any pictures or slogans on it. Then I found a white pleated skirt.

I looked great in the outfit. Fresh and innocent and a lot younger than twenty-four, which is my real age.