The Midnight Tour (56 page)

Somebody
has
to be home...and has to come out.

But nobody did.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen.

Watching the steam rise, Owen wished
he
could jump into the spa. He wished he’d worn his windbreaker. Or even a long-sleeved shirt. He thought about how badly he would like to be back in the warmth of his room at the Welcome Inn.

After half an hour of waiting, Owen swayed sideways, bumped his shoulder against John and whispered,
“Now
can we go?”

“Go whenever you want to.
I’m
staying.”

“How long?”

“Long as it takes.”

“Aren’t you freezing?”

“Ask me if I care.”

“This is insane.”

“Think so? What if I wimp out and take off—and two minutes later, out come the babes...bare-ass naked?”

“Like
that’s
gonna happen.”

“You’ll never find out if you go running away like a...”

At the back of the house, a curtain was sliding aside. Owen saw someone behind the glass door. As he tried to figure out who it might be, the door glided open and Lynn stepped out.

John nudged him. “Here we go!”

Hardly able to believe this was really happening, Owen watched Lynn stride toward the hot spa at the corner of the pool. She wasn’t much compared to Dana, but she was cute, all right. Really cute. And
what
was she wearing?

White tennis shoes and no socks.

Hugged against her belly was a folded blue towel.

At the edge of the spa, she crouched and set down the towel.

Owen heard a click. It came from beside him. He knew what it was, but he didn’t look.

Couldn’t take his eyes off Lynn as she stood up.

Didn’t care that she wasn’t naked.

Her swimsuit looked like small, buttery patches of doe skin tied to her body with leather strings.

John clicked more photos. His automatic film advance made a quiet buzzing sound after each shot.

Lynn didn’t seem to hear the camera.

Instead of climbing into the spa, she turned away from it and walked toward a corner of the house.

There were no buttery patches of doe skin behind Lynn. Owen could hardly even see the strings.

Beside him, John moaned. The camera clicked and buzzed.

“Save some film for Dana,” Owen whispered. His voice came out raspy and trembling.

“Don’t worry, man. I’ve got plenty. Look at her, will you?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you like to lick the sweat off an ass like that?”

“Shut up.”

“You’d love it.”

Lynn vanished around the corner of the house. Then came an engine noise, followed by burbly sounds from the hot spa. Through the steam, Owen saw the water in the small enclosure turn frothy white. Its surface began to shift and roll.

Lynn came back around the corner. Though her breasts were no larger than oranges, they jiggled nicely inside the loose patches of doe skin as she walked. Twin thongs slanted down from her hips to her crotch, where they met two comers of a tiny leather triangle.

John took more snapshots.

Owen moaned softly. He ached. He couldn’t believe he was actually here, crouching in bushes, seeing
this.

At the edge of the spa, Lynn kicked off her shoes. Then she climbed down. When she was seated, the water covered her to the neck.

“Wanta leave
now?”
John whispered.

“Go to hell.”

John chuckled.

After that, it was a matter of waiting. With Lynn’s fine body submerged, there wasn’t much to see.

Maybe Dana would show up.

She might, Owen told himself. She really might. After all, she lives here. Even if she is on a date, she’s bound to come home sooner or later.

Doesn’t mean she’ll come out to the pool.

But she might.

And even if she
doesn’t
show up, Owen thought, it’ll be worth sticking around. Lynn can’t stay in there all night. We’ll get at least one more good look at her.

John put an arm around Owen’s back, pulled him closer, and whispered in his ear, “Wanta drop in on her?”

“Are you nuts?”

“Hey, man, maybe she’d like some company.” The warm breath tickled the inside of Owen’s ear. “A couple of studs like us...”

“No.”

“I’m so fuckin’ horny...”

“Try anything and I’ll rip up your Midnight Tour ticket
and
kick your ass.”

“How do you know she doesn’t
want
it?”

“From you and me? I’d bet a million bucks.”

“I don’t know, man. She’s gotta be feeling
awfully
horny.” He squeezed Owen’s arm. “That hot water rubbing her all over, and she’s got damn near nothing on. Bet she’d
love
to have a couple of guys jump in with her right about now.”

Owen shook his head. His heart was thumping fast and hard. “Knock it off.”

“Let’s do it. Come on, buddy. It’s the chance of a lifetime.”

Voice shaking, Owen said, “Yeah, to end up in prison.”

“We’re not gonna
rape
her. We’ll just go over and say hi and see what happens. You know?”

“No.”

“You
wanta
do it, man. I
know
you wanta.”

“I do not.”

“You’re just chicken.”

“Are you completely out of your mind?”

“Wouldn’t you just love to jump in the water and rip that little bikini thing off her and...”

“No. Now, cut it out. Shut up.”

“I’m gonna do it,” John said. He gave Owen’s arm another squeeze, then let go. “Stay here and miss the fun if you wanta, but
I’m
goin’ for the gold.”

Owen clutched his shoulder.

Someone called, “Hey!”

Owen’s heart lurched.

Across the pool, Lynn turned her head.

Over near the corner of the house, a woman walked into the light, a hand raised in greeting.

Dana!

She’s here! She’s HERE! Oh, my God!

Owen gazed at her, shocked with surprise and delight. This was way too good to be true.

But what happened to her hair?

The last time he’d seen Dana, just this afternoon, her blond hair had been flowing down past her shoulders. Now, it was short and mannish.

Why’d she wanta get it all cut off?

It
does
look good this way, he realized.
Real
good.

Focused so much on Lynn for the past few minutes, Owen had almost forgotten how incredibly beautiful
Dana
was.

God, look at her!

She wore faded jeans and a blue chambray shirt. The shirt loomed out with the push of her breasts. It wasn’t tucked in. Its long sleeves were rolled halfway up her slender forearms,

As she walked toward Lynn, she was smiling and shaking her head. She was talking, too, but Owen couldn’t hear a word she said. He couldn’t hear Lynn, either.

Just as well, he thought. If we can’t hear them, they can’t hear us.

“Who the hell’s the gorgeous
babe?”
John whispered.

“It’s Dana.”

“My ass. That ain’t Dana.”

“She must’ve gotten a haircut, that’s...”

It isn’t!

“You’re right,” Owen said.

The stranger seemed to be Dana’s size. She had about the same height and build and complexion. Her hair, though cut so short, was Dana’s shade of gold. At this distance, illuminated by the pool lights, even her face resembled Dana’s face.

Resembled Dana’s, but didn’t quite match it.

She might’ve been a sister. A slightly older sister, more athletic, a little tougher, sharper, more intense.

More beautiful.

She
can’t
be more beautiful than Dana, Owen told himself.

“You believe it, man?” John asked.

Owen shook his head.

“Looks like some kinda Australian super-model.”

“Yeah.”

Lynn suddenly leaned to the right, reached out fast and snatched something out of her folded towel.

A revolver.

A
huge
revolver that gleamed like silver.

“Holy shit,” John said.

Waving the handgun, Lynn smiled up at the new arrival and said something.

The new gal grinned and nodded. Her lips moved. She nodded some more.

Lynn slipped the revolver back inside the folds of her towel. Then she stood up, turned around and climbed out of the spa.

Owen stared at her back and buttocks and legs. They were ruddy from the heat of the water, shiny in the lights.

After Lynn disappeared inside the house, the newcomer turned toward the pool. She seemed to be gazing across it, studying the long, thick row of shrubbery and small trees.

Almost as if
inspecting
it.

Does she know we’re here?

No. She couldn’t.

For a few moments, she seemed to be gazing straight at the place where Owen and John were kneeling.

Owen didn’t move. He held his breath.

Then the woman’s eyes moved on.

John made a “Whew” sound.

Owen resumed breathing.

On the other side of the pool, the gorgeous stranger started to unbutton her shirt.

“Oh, man,” John murmured.

As the buttons came undone, Owen saw that she was wearing something red underneath her blue shirt. She pulled off the outer shirt. The red belonged to a T-shirt. It hugged her body, and so did the straps of a brown leather harness.

The harness supported a shoulder holster.

She pulled a dark pistol out of the holster, bent down and set it on top of Lynn’s towel. Then she stepped over to the patio table. She draped her blue shirt over the back of a chair, removed her holster rig and put it on the table. Next, she pulled out a chair and sat down and took off her boots.

John nudged him. “She’s going
in
, man.”

“Looks that way.”

“Shit! Is this our lucky night, or what?”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get shot.”

“Fuck you.”

Done removing her socks, the woman stood up. She unfastened her jeans, pulled them down and stepped out of them. Her red T-shirt reached down like a very short, tight skirt to the tops of her thighs. Owen wished he could see under its edge, but coutdn’t—not even when she crouched to pick up her jeans.

Turning around, she bent over to drape her jeans on the chair.

Owen saw her bare buttocks.

His breath caught.

With her back to the pool, she pulled up the T-shirt and drew it over her head.

She was naked.

She tossed her T-shirt onto the chair, then turned away from the table.

Turned toward the spa.

Toward the pool and Owen and John.

Owen heard the click and buzz of John’s camera.

The camera! Yes! He’s getting pictures of her!

Take a million!

Bless you, John Cromwell. And thank God for your telephoto lens.

If only we had a camcorder!

Owen gaped at the woman, astounded by his good luck, hardly able to believe that he was actually here, spying from the bushes on someone who was not only absolutely naked but more beautiful and exciting than anyone he’d ever seen or imagined.

She had a soft, mellow tan all the way down her body. Every muscle looked sleek and strong. Her breasts, firm and round and heavy, were tipped with large, stiff nipples. Below her ribcage, her belly sloped in, flat and smooth. Twin hollows slanted downward from her hips, leading to a tuft of golden curls.

As she walked toward the spa, Owen glimpsed a fleshy cleft below the curls. Flushed and aching, he quickly lifted his gaze to her breasts. He saw how they bounced and swayed.

At the edge of the spa, she balanced on her left leg and dipped in her right foot. She took it out, dipped it in again, then shrugged and stepped all the way down, bending her left leg and holding out her arms like wings to steady herself. Owen again saw the split between her legs.

John clicked photos.

On the edge of losing control, Owen shut his eyes.

Are you nuts! Look at her! Don’t miss this!

If I look, I’ll come in my pants.

So what?

He opened his eyes and saw that she was already shoulder deep in the spa.

Okay, he told himself. Fine. I’ll be all right, now.

Maybe.

Out of the house’s back door stepped Lynn. She was carrying a bottle of red wine, two glasses, and a big blue towel.

“How you doing, man?” John whispered.

“Great.”

“Is this the best, or what?”

“It’s the best, all right.”

Grinning, John gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Looks like they’re gonna have a party.”

“Yeah.”

“I gotta reload.”

“Hurry,” Owen said. He watched Lynn fill the glasses with wine, climb down into the spa and hand a glass to the beautiful stranger.

After Lynn sat down, they touched their glasses together.

Owen imagined the musical tone of their rims clinking. He couldn’t hear it, though.

He could hear the thumping of the heart inside him.

He could hear the buzz of John’s film rewinding dose to his right side.

He could hear the wind in the trees behind him.

He could hear the burble of the spa in front of him and the noise of the heater off around the corner of the house.

As the wine glasses clinked together in silence, he also heard a single, phlegmy cough.

It came from somewhere in. the bushes to his left.

“What was that?” Owen whispered.

“What was what?”

“Didn’t you hear it? Like a cough? From over there?”

“Nah.”

Chapter Forty-Two

POOL PARTY

Dana hurried back to Warren’s car. “It’s okay,” she said. “I think the visitor’s a friend.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Didn’t see his face.” At the driver’s window, Dana bent over and put her hands on the sill. “Who do you know with short blond hair?”

“Clyde?”

Dana laughed. “Can’t be him. Whoever he is, Tuck’s drinking wine with him in the Jacuzzi.”