The Prettiest Girl I Ever Killed (18 page)

But I found the place. A sheer cliff rose up beside a narrow ravine full of dead leaves and humus. No trees grew right in the ravine, which left a ten-foot-wide open space between the woods and the cliff. I stopped at the edge of the clearing and called softly: “Curt.”

There was no answer. I called again.

A strong hand gripped my arm. Curt’s voice whispered: “Velda, here you are again, wearing white at night.”

“I couldn’t think of everything. I came to warn you—”

“Shhh. Go inside and wait. I’ll see if you were followed.”

I squeezed through the cleft and groped my way inside. I smelled dust, decay, bat manure and gas. As my eyes got used to the dark, I saw that the smell of gas came from a tiny butane stove. By the pale blue flame I saw the two suitcases which held Curt’s recording apparatus. A coil of wiring lay on the cavern floor, plus a tool kit, a lumped sleeping bag and a case of groceries. I heard Curt come behind me and I asked:

“How’d you move this stuff in so quick?”

“I put it here weeks ago … all but the recording stuff. It was a second line of defense.”

I said: “You predict everything, don’t you?”

He laughed without humor. “Not quite. Gaby’s accident for one thing. Johnny Drew’s death for another—”

“You didn’t kill him?”

He sighed. “Velda, I’ve told you. I didn’t come here to kill anybody.”

“Well, I thought, maybe by accident—”

“By accident Johnny happened to pass in front of the window. Somebody outside was waiting for that moment. It was a good shot. I found Gaby’s bow in the brush a hundred yards away. I lost the killer’s trail when he waded a stream. I tried to pick it up again, but it was still too dark. When I got back, your husband was there, with the sheriff. What did they do to you?”

I told him about the hunt and the gun-happy Hoff. Curt lit a candle and I saw that his hair was wild, his eyes puffy, his checks stubbled. He didn’t look as though he’d slept since the night Gaby was injured.

“You know who it is?” I asked.

“Johnny Drew died without talking,” he said.

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Stay here until the hunters decide I’ve left the county.”

“I’ll stay with you.”

“No you won’t.”

“You plan to tie me up and carry me home?”

He looked at me for a moment, then he handed me a rifle. “Put on something dark and keep watch at the entrance. I’ll catch a nap.”

I threw a blanket over my shoulders and wedged myself in the mouth of the cavern. I could hear the chilling yelp of the hounds. Once I heard a distant gunshot; I decided something had spooked Deputy Hoff. I pictured Curt trying to give himself up to those men, and I knew he’d die the moment they saw him.

The time dragged slowly. The coldness of the rock seeped through the blanket and numbed my back and buttocks. Breezes found their way up my legs like cold searching fingers. The hour reached midnight, one o’clock. I no longer heard the hounds; I decided the search had been recessed for the night, all the hunters gone home to bed. I felt totally alone, like the last woman on earth. The moon slid in and out of the clouds, creating weird shadows which humped through the forest. The wind whispered and moaned through the leaves. There was nothing human out there; nothing to give me comfort. I went back inside and lay down beside Curt. He slept silently, without snoring. He smelled of clothing worn too long, but I didn’t mind. I tickled him with my hair and he snorted, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He shifted to a new position and put his arm around me. “Gaby” he mumbled. I put my hand under his shirt and rubbed the warm muscular back. He slid his hand down, found the hem of the nightdress and tugged upward. I lifted myself up to help, then relaxed against him. He ran his hands down the curve of my back and touched my buttocks. I suppose that’s what made him aware because there was a considerable difference in size. He stiffened slightly but didn’t withdraw his arms. “Velda?” He wasn’t questioning my identify, but something else. “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” I said. “Wide-awake.”

I could count on my fingers the times I’ve enjoyed it … I mean when the flood of emotion picks me up and swirls me to a place of no-thought, no-time, no-existence. With Mart a couple of times, with Lou perhaps once, and there in the cave with Curt. I tried to tell him without sounding grateful or obsequious, but he merely chuckled. “I remember the best food I ever had, it was cold and windy and I’d been driving cattle for half a day. I stopped and had a cold ham sandwich with ketchup and I’ve never tasted anything as delicious since.”

“If you’re saying I was sex-starved …”

“I was thinking of the excitement—”

“You rationalize everything until it’s meaningless.” I stood up and pulled down my nightdress. I thought of the shower I usually took after sex, but I didn’t feel dirty. Those sanitary operations belonged to another woman, a certain Mrs. Bayrd. I wanted nothing more to do with her.

“Speaking of food,” I said.

“I’ll get it.”

“Your job is to guard the cave. Go, great hunter.”

He went. I warmed a can of Vienna sausage and fried eggs on the little stove. Curt came back and squatted beside the fire and ate from a paper plate. After a minute he said: “It’s about daylight. You think you can get out and contact Gaby?”

My heart sank. I didn’t want to leave the cave; there were too many problems outside. “You just want to get rid of me.”

He shook his head. “Somebody’s got to tell her to put plan ‘C’ into effect. She’ll know what to do.”

Jealousy is a childish emotion, but there it was. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“It’s complicated. First of all it means I’ve got the local law on my back. I’ve established a certain contact with the state police; he doesn’t know you but he knows Gaby. I’m not sure he’d act on your word. Tell Gaby plan ‘C’, that’s all you have to do.”

I said I’d try. Curt took a wrinkled plaid shirt and cotton trousers from his sleeping bag and said I could wear them. I pulled off my nightdress, feeling neither shy nor bold to be standing nude before him; just very natural. I let him slide the shirt onto my arms. The cold morning air drew my nipples tight; Curt’s touch sent the pulse surging through my veins. I turned in his arms and drew his head down in a kiss; I felt an urge to let my legs go limp and pull him down to the floor with me. I was a glutton, I knew; when Gaby came back there would he no more chances, and I wanted to store up memories for the future. But I sensed Curt’s urgency, and withdrew my embrace. While he was rolling up my trouser legs he said:

“Don’t go home, you understand? Don’t talk to anybody. Just call Gaby and then hide out.”

I left, feeling a deep serenity beneath the overlay of urgency. I felt like a college girl sneaking home after a night in her boyfriend’s dormitory. I reached the car and drove out, planning to sneak into Sherman and call from the store. Just outside Sherman I rounded a curve and nearly crashed into a pair of livestock loading chutes which had been placed across the road. I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt; I looked out the window and saw Joe Riley, former pool-hall bum of Sherman, approaching the car with a deer rifle. A deputy sheriff’s badge gleamed on his dirty denim shirt.

“Misses Bayrd. They lookin for you all over creation. Don’t move. I’m a legal deputy, ‘powered to shoot.”

I could only sit cursing my lack of caution while he ran around the car and got in on the other side. “Now jest ease around on the shoulder and out the other side. I reckon I better take you home.”

As I drove, Joe never took his eyes off me. Now and then his gaze wandered down to my bosom, and I suspected that Curt’s oversized shirt had gaped open to reveal a breast or two. It occurred to me that I might seduce Joe and escape. I noticed his yellowed teeth and realized I couldn’t do it without throwing up. Still I tried stopping the car and pretending an urgent call of nature, but Joe smirked and said: “I reckon you can hold it for another mile, Missus Bayrd.” So like a sacrificial lamb I drove up our drive and there was Lou and Sheriff Wade waiting in front of the house. There was no sign of Deputy Hoff. The sheriff lumbered over to the car looking angry enough to chew off the barrel of his.38. He yanked open the door and seized me by the arm. “I’m through playin games with you, little lady. Where’d you leave that murderin’ sonuvabitch?”

“Sheriff, please—” His hand was a vise biting through my biceps. Lou walked up.

“Hold it, Sheriff. Maybe she doesn’t know about Bobby.”

“Come on.”

The sheriff pulled me out of the car and I had to run to keep from falling. He threw open the back of the panel truck. Deputy Hoff lay inside. He’d swagger no more; an arrow had gone all the way through his neck, just below the ears. In his khaki gabardines, he resembled a deer being carried home to he butchered. I gasped.

“But Curt couldn’t have—” I caught myself. “I don’t know anything about this, Sheriff. I’m … sorry. About your nephew.”

“Nothing gonna bring him back to life.” The sheriff was a man stunned by grief, half out of his mind. His voice was gruff. “Thing I gotta do is get the guy who did it. Now you tell where he is and maybe I won’t put you under arrest—”

“I don’t know
anything.”

“All right, Velda.” He reached for the handcuffs on his belt, but Lou said: “Give me a minute, Sheriff.” Lou took my arm and marched me in the house, into the bedroom. He closed the door and seized my shoulders.

“Now listen. Don’t you understand that Curt’s a wanted man? You can’t protect him. He killed an officer—”

“He didn’t.”

“Were you with him last night? Is that how you’re sure?” I kept my mouth closed.

“Velda, you’re wearing the proof. Those clothes …”

“Yes, I was with him.”

Lou nodded. “All right. Tell me where he is.”

“But Lou … they’ll kill him on sight. You know that.”

“Just tell me. He can give himself up to me. Look.” He reached in his shirt pocket and held a badge out in his palm. “I’m a special deputy. I’ll bring him in and see that he gets a fair trial.”

My eyes caught that crescent scar on his forearm. I remembered Curt staring at it that night; I recalled how emphatically he’d warned me against coming home. I realized the scar couldn’t have been made by a nail …

“Velda,” Lou was saying. “I don’t want to turn you over to the sheriff. I’m trying to help you. For God’s sake, think of Sharon, think of your family. You don’t want to go to jail as Curt’s accomplice. He’s ruined himself, but you don’t have to follow his example. Just tell me where he is …”

A picture came into my mind; Teddy Groner in the high school group photo, smiling. He had even white teeth, with canines noticeably prominent, extending a quarter of an inch down past his incisors. Looking at Lou’s scar I could almost see Teddy’s teeth sinking into Lou’s arm in a desperate underwater struggle. I thought of other things … Lou practicing with the bow until he could shoot almost as good as Curt … Lou calling me at three a.m. on the night of Anne’s murder, telling me the clerk had forgotten to relay my call. I remembered all the electronic equipment in Lou’s shop, and the way he always seemed to know what went on in the store even when he wasn’t there. I remembered Johnny Drew confessing that he’d made the calls, and realized that Lou’s presence in bed did not absolve him of guilt. I thought of Sharon being attacked by her own father and my mind recoiled in horror. I forced myself to say …

“He’s in the old Boy Scout cabin, Lou. But I want to go with you.”

Lou shook his head. “You’re weak, Velda. Your mind isn’t working too well. You stay here and rest.” He got busy at the little tray beside my bed. “Those pills aren’t strong enough. The doctor left something else …”

I watched him fill the hypodermic needle and I thought of air bubbles injected into the vein, which kill you so quickly and leave no evidence …

I ran. He was so engrossed in his task that I made it out of the house. The sheriff pulled his gun but hesitated: I guess he’d never shot a woman before. Joe stared at me without raising his gun; I think he forgot he had one. I jumped in the car and drove down the lane, my tires squealing. West of town I skidded around the roadblock and drove on toward the lake. I didn’t want to lead them too close to the cave. I drove the car into a cornfield and tried to wipe out the tracks. Then I walked a mile into the woods, crawled into a hazel-brush thicket, and waited. When darkness came, I went on to the cave. I called Curt’s name and went in. Curt was behind me.

“Did you reach Gaby?” he asked.

I started to explain, but a brilliant light flashed behind me. Lou’s voice said: “Put your hands up, both of you.”

I whirled, but saw only a disc of blinding white light. Lou laughed. “I’ve been with you all day, Velda. You underestimated me, just like you’ve been doing all your life.” His voice hardened. “Turn around and put your hands against the wall. I carry a sawed-off shotgun. I could get you both with one shot.”

I turned slowly, and Curt whispered without moving his lips. “Talk. Get him talking.”

I made two tries before my voice worked. “You … I can’t believe you’d attack Sharon, Lou. You must have had Johnny do that?”

Lou laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. If I’d heard it in a crowded restaurant I’d have turned to stare in horror at the man who’d made it. I realized what Lou had kept bottled up all these years; he’d stepped out of the human race a long time ago….

“You didn’t think it out, Velda. That little scare wasn’t nearly as bad as having her learn I was a mass murderer. Think of her carrying that burden. Your lover was making you look too closely at me, and I couldn’t handle you both at once. I had to find some way of turning off your suspicion.”

“I don’t understand how you used Johnny Drew.”

“I caught him stealing from the hardware store. I had him then, but he couldn’t kill; he botched the attempt to kill you, Curt, even though he hated you enough.”

“Why did you kill the deputy?” I asked.

“To get the sheriff mad enough to shoot Curt on sight. I was intrigued by the idea of having the law do the job for me, but—” He stopped abruptly. “I see your idea; keep me talking until the sheriff arrives, is that it? Sorry to disappoint you, the sheriff went in the other direction, he’s five miles away by now. But I don’t mind talking. Excuse me while I sit down.” There was a pause, then: “All right, move just a little closer together, your shoulders touching, that’s fine. You make a handsome couple, you know. I originally had the thought of catching you two in bed together and killing you both. I could have gotten away with it; pillar of the community loses head in fit of jealous rage. But you somehow kept clear of the sex scene—that is, until recently. I sense a new attitude in you, Velda. You’ve had yourself a nice little tumble and you’re happy, aren’t you? Happy enough to die?”