The Midnight Tour (30 page)

“More scary than a thief or a peeping Tom?”

“Chances are, he
is
a peeping Tom. I’d bet on it. But you really have to consider the possibility that the guy... well, he might be
after
one or the other of you. He might be a stalker.”

“Yeah, that’s what we want to hear.”

“You’ve both probably got guys falling for you all the time.”

“It happens,” Tuck said.

Dana nodded.

“Your prowler might be one of them,” Eve said. “You get a guy who develops a mad crush on you. For one reason or another, he figures he doesn’t stand a chance with you. So he goes nutty and forms an obsession.”

“Love it when that happens,” Tuck said.

“Pain in the butt,” Dana said.

“And it
can
be dangerous,” Eve explained. “I mean, a lot of guys’ll pester the hell out of you and make nuisances out of themselves, but if one actually goes to the extreme of following you around and
spying
on you, then you’ve got a major problem. He isn’t just
longing
for you, he’s
coming
for you. A guy like that can be
extremely
dangerous. He might even kill you.”

Nodding, Dana said, “If he can’t have us, nobody can.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, everyone,” Tuck said, “I’m cheered up now.”

“The thing is,” Eve said, “you might know who it is.” Glancing from Dana to Tuck, she asked, “Can you think of anyone who might be obsessed with you? Anyone who seems to be watching you all the time or following you around? Maybe a fellow worker? Or somebody taking the tour?”

Dana thought of Clyde. She thought of Dennis and Arnold. Even Warren crossed her mind. But none of them seemed likely.

She shook her head.

“I can’t think of anyone,” Tuck said.

“Is there someone you’ve noticed taking the tour more than once?”

“That happens all the time,” Tuck said. “People are always coming back for another visit. Hell, we’ve got regulars.”

“Might be one of those. You
think
he’s coming back to see the house over and over again, but he’s
actually
coming back so he can keep his eyes on
you.
”

“I guess that’s possible,” Tuck admitted. “But there’re so many of them, I wouldn’t know...Besides, you said this was probably the guy’s first visit here.”

“Looked that way.”

“Chances are, then, he didn’t come because of me. I mean, I’m
always
around. Why did he wait till tonight? He probably came because of Dana. This was
her
first day at Beast House.”

Eve looked at her. “Your first day, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Anybody seem to be taking special interest in you?”

“Not really. Clyde, I suppose. He tried to ask me out for dinner tonight, and I turned him down. I don’t want to get him into any trouble, though. I mean, this could’ve been
anyone.
”

“It doesn’t seem like Clyde’s style,” Tuck said.

“You never know,” Eve said. “I wouldn’t put much of anything past that guy.”

“You know him, huh?” Dana asked.

“You bet,” Eve said. “A real prince.”

Tuck, suddenly grinning, said, “Officer Chaney, here, is one of the precious few who
hasn’t
gotten nailed by Clyde.”

“He’s afraid of me,” Eve said. She showed her teeth. “I can’t imagine
why.
Anyway, aside from Clyde, was there anyone else today who seemed to be especially interested in you?”

“There was Warren. We talked for a while. He seemed really nice, but...”

“He is nice,” Eve said. “I can’t see him doing something like this.”

“Even if he had the urge,” Tuck said, “he wouldn’t have the guts.”

“He is pretty timid,” Eve agreed. “Anybody else? Maybe a guy hanging around you while you were on duty?”

“Not really. A lot of people sort of...you know, gave me a second look. But I didn’t notice anyone really
watching
me.”

“Well, keep an eye out for that sort of thing. Both of you. Tomorrow, pay close attention to anyone who seems too interested, maybe asks you a lot of questions, or just hangs around and stares at you. Anything at all suspicious. Okay? In the meantime, I’ll write up a report on the situation. You take the precautions I told you about, and everything’ll turn out fine.”

“Peachy,” Tuck said.

“I know it’s a pain in the ass.”

“It’s the way things go, nowdays,” Tuck said. “The good guys have to lock themselves up, and the bad guys rule the night. The American way.”

“I hate to think that’s how it works in this town,” Eve said. “Believe me, I don’t like it any better than you do. It’s an
affront
to me. But I can’t put down a bad guy till I know who he is. For now, you two should just be careful and lay low. I’ll do what I can to end the situation.”

“We’ll be careful,” Dana said.

“Sure,” Tuck said.

Eve unbuttoned a breast pocket, reached in and pulled out a business card. “I’ll give you my home phone number,” she said.

She took out a pen. Holding the card in her open hand, she wrote her number on the back. “You don’t want someone like Cochran coming over. If anything develops when I’m not on duty, try me at home.”

“Will do,” Tuck said. “Thanks.”

Eve handed the card to her. “Okay. I’d better get going. You two be careful. Keep me informed. And keep your Smith handy, Lynn.” She faced Dana. “Do you have a weapon?”

“Look at her size,” Tuck said.

Eve and Dana both gave her dirty looks.

Smiling at Dana, Eve said, “A firearm. Do you have one?”

“No.”

“You should, you know.”

“Well...I guess I could go to the store tomorrow...”

“No good. There’s a fifteen day waiting period.” To Tuck, she said, “You only have the one, don’t you?”

“Afraid so.”

“Well...” Dropping to a crouch, Eve raised the cuff of her right trouser leg. A black, fabric holster was strapped around her ankle. She ripped open a velcro strap, pulled out a small pistol, then stood up and held it out to Dana. “You can borrow this one for a while. It’s a Sig Sauer .380 semi-automatic.”

“I can’t take your gun,” Dana protested.

“It’s just my backup piece,” Eve said. “I’ve got plenty of others. A girl can never have too many guns. Now, do you know how to use a weapon like this?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

ICE

“Don’t be such a gloomy gus, Owie,” Monica said, and squeezed his hand.

“I’m just tired,” he said. “We’ve been on our feet for hours.”

“Aw, poor boy.”

“I think I’ve got blisters.”

“Well, we’re almost home.”

Don’t I wish, Owen thought. But it was nearly midnight and they weren’t almost
home;
after spending hours at Pier 39, they were walking along the Embarcadaro on their way back to the hotel. The hotel was
not
home. Home, back in Los Angeles, was a one-room apartment where Owen lived
alone.

Without Monica.

It still hurt him inside to realize that he’d allowed her to ruin the Beast House tour.

I should’ve gone ahead and finished it and the hell with her.

Some sort of damn female power game she’d been playing.

She’d won, too. And Beast House had lost.

I
lost, he thought. I caved in, and she wrecked it for me.

After quitting the tour that morning, Owen had tried to remain pleasant in spite of his frustration and disappointment. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be the life of the party, but at least he managed to smile and speak to Monica and pretend he still liked her.

At a restaurant on Front Street, he indulged himself in a Bloody Mary. Monica, between sips of white wine, tried to patch up the damage. “I honestly didn’t mean for
you
to leave,” she explained.

He knew she was lying. People
always
lied after such preliminaries as “honestly,” or “to tell you the absolute truth.”

She’d meant for him to quit the tour, all right. And she was no doubt secretly overjoyed that she’d wielded such power over him.

“I don’t see
why
you didn’t finish it,” she said. “That was silly. I was perfectly willing to wait for you outside.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Why don’t we go back after lunch?”

He shook his head.

“You definitely should. I mean it, Owie. It would be perfectly all right with me. I’ll just wait outside for you.”

“I honestly don’t care if I see the rest of it,” he said. “I saw enough. It wasn’t that great, anyway.”

“
I’ll
say. What a ripoff! But I think you should go back, anyway. I don’t want to be the one stopping you. I don’t want you blaming
me
that you missed the rest of the tour.”

And who else would I blame?

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

“I tell you what,” Monica said, widening her violet eyes. “If you’re sure you don’t want to finish the house tour, we’ll go to the museum after lunch. How about that? I mean, I’d sort of counted on going to the beach, but we can go to the museum instead. Would you like that?”

“Let’s just go to the beach.”

“You really
should
see the museum. We came all the way out here.”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Welllll...it’s up to you.”

“The beach’ll be fine.”

He meant it, too. He didn’t
want
to visit the Beast House museum. Not with Monica. She would be standing by his side, probably holding his hand,
ruining
it.

After lunch, they headed for the beach. On the way there, they followed a sandy, unpaved road that led them past the windowless Kutch house. Owen gave the house a few glances through the chain link fence, but he didn’t even try to appreciate it.

How could he appreciate
anything
with Monica at his side?

As it drew closer to departure time, they headed back to Front Street and boarded the bus. Monica took a window seat. Owen sat beside her.

He didn’t try to look out the windows for a final glimpse of Beast House or the Kutch House. As the bus pulled away and drove slowly through town, he stared at the back of the seat in front of him. He didn’t even turn his head for a look at the Welcome Inn, which had also been made famous by the
Horror
books and movies.

She ruined it for me. All of it.

Owen had a tightness in his throat.

When
’
ll I ever make it back again?

Maybe the place won
’
t even be here by the time I ever get back. Things happen. It might get shut down for some reason. It might burn to the ground...

I might keel over dead or get bit by a car.

You never know.

This might
’
ve been my one and only chance in my whole life to really experience this place.

Thanks a bunch, Monica.

Somewhere past the Welcome Inn, the bus turned around.

“We’ll be making one more pass through town,” Patty announced into her microphone. “It’ll give you a final opportunity to see the sights and snap a quick photo or two before we head over to the Highway One.”

Final opportunity.

On the way back through town, Owen kept his eyes forward.

Monica kept her nose to the window. As they left Malcasa Point behind, she smiled at him. Patting his thigh, she said, “Maybe we’ll have to come back again sometime and really do the place up right.”

“Good idea,” Owen said.

Soon, Monica scooted down in her seat, folded her hands in her lap, and shut her eyes.

That’s a very good idea, Owen thought. Take a nap. That’s when you’re at your best.

He leaned out into the aisle for a look at Patty. She was standing up front, her back to Owen, bent over slightly and peering out the windshield.

I bet she isn’t a bitch like Monica, he thought. She seems so nice.

How about the other one?

Dana.

I wonder if Patty knows her. She must.

Why not go up and ask her?

Oh, sure.

He imagined himself saying, “Hey, Patty? I was just wondering. I met a guide named Dana today. Do you know her?”

And Patty answers, “Oh, sure, she’s my best friend.” And Owen says... what?

What do I say then? he wondered.

Doesn’t matter, he thought. I’m not about to go up and talk to her. And I’m never going to see Dana again. Even if I
do
get back to Malcasa some day, she’ll probably be long gone.

I
’
ll never see her again.

He remembered how Dana had looked in the sunlight when he was handing over his tape player. Her golden hair blowing softly in the breeze, her skin tawny and smooth, her eyes deep and blue and full of gentleness and understanding. He remembered her friendly voice.

There are gals like Dana in this world, and I’m stuck with Monica. It isn’t fair.

It hurt, thinking about the unfairness.

Stop thinking about it. And don’t think about Monica. Forget her. Just think about Dana. Picture Dana. Forget everything else.

Settling down in the seat, he closed his eyes and let his mind linger on Dana. The images calmed him. She was so beautiful and sweet, and she seemed to like him, too. Soon, he pictured himself unfastening a button in the middle of her uniform blouse, slipping his hand inside and discovering that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He filled his hand with the smooth bare skin of her breast.

When he woke up, the bus was nearing the toll booths of the Golden Gate Bridge. He felt very fine—well rested and somewhat aroused—but then he saw Monica slouched beside him and his good feelings ended.

Luckily, she was still asleep.

But she was wide awake and perky by the time the bus stopped at their hotel.

Owen led the way up the aisle.

As they neared the front, Patty smiled and said, “Hope you enjoyed your visit to Beast House. Come and see it again sometime.”