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Authors: Richard Laymon

Body Rides (61 page)

BOOK: Body Rides
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While Sue was telling her story, Vince had let her words become moving images in his mind. He’d watched her sneak through a house at night, find the numbers in her father’s wallet, then squat in front of a cabinet and struggle with the combination lock.

In Vince’s version, however, she did not appear to be nine years old. She looked as she looked now.

Except that her bikini was gone.

In his mental film, Vince had viewed Sue from the front, as if his eyes were in the door of the liquor cabinet, level with her breasts as she tried to work the combination lock. Her skin had looked like bronze in a shimmering, ruddy light. Her knees had been wide apart, almost touching the cabinet door.

Squatting that way, she’d soon opened the door. And Vince had been inside the cabinet, watching her reach in and take out bottles, remove their caps, take swigs.

While listening to the story and living it inside his mind, Vince had grown hard again.

But he never gave a thought to his own safe or to the numbers of its combination lock.

He hasn’t
got
a safe, Neal thought.

So where’s the money hidden?

Somewhere in the house, ready to go. Already in a grocery sack, maybe
.

Let’s find out
.

Forty-Eight
 

Neal wished they’d parked in the shade. He found himself in the rear of the Jeep, sunbaked and streaming sweat, his clothes sodden. Feeling as if the sun had drained away half his strength, he reached up and grabbed the roll bar and pulled himself to his feet.

He stood there, hanging on to it.

Marta’s purse and clothes were piled on the driver’s seat, Sue’s on the passenger seat.

Never should’ve let them do this
.

The slimy, scheming bastard and his fucking hard-ons
. . .

Neal stepped up onto the side of the Jeep. From there, he jumped to the pavement. Leaning over the top of the driver’s door, he reached for the steering wheel.

‘Put a stop to this shit right now,’ he muttered, and shoved the wheel’s hub.

He expected a blast from the horn.

He got silence.

He pressed the wheel’s center again, felt its give, but heard no horn.

‘Great,’ he muttered. ‘Terrific’

Why the hell didn’t Marta tell me her horn’s on the fritz?

Now what? he wondered.

How about going for the money, stupid? That’s what you were supposed to do in the first place, not wimp out and go for the damn horn. You came here for the bastard’s money. The gals’ve been parading around as good as naked in front of the sick fuck to where they’ve got him half nuts – they’ve tricked everything out of him, we’ve got all his secrets

now all we need is the money and it’ll be mission accomplished. We’ll have the cash and he’ll have shit
.

He’ll have his big memories of a cocktail hour and a hard cock with his dear friends Tracy and Katt
.

And he’ll have a big empty bag full of nothing when it comes to paying Glitt
.

Neal stretched out his arm and snatched Marta’s ignition key out of the steering wheel.

Can’t have someone driving off
. . .

Then he opened the car door, leaned in, and stuffed their purses underneath the front seats.

He shut the door gently, silently, dropped Marta’s key case into a pocket of his shorts, and ran back along the roadside. He raced past the driveway with its closed, iron gate.

The smaller gate was shut, but not locked.

He opened it, stepped through, and walked toward the house.

If I were a bag full of money, where would I be?

Not outside, that’s for sure
.

Hidden in the bedroom? Under the bed, maybe?

Apparently, the slug hasn’t got a safe
.

First things first, Neal told himself. Get inside the house.

He headed up the walkway toward the front door.

Vince had let the gals in that way. He’d shut it after them, but was it locked?

Neal tried it.

It was locked.

Which left the sliding doors.

Neal remembered a total of three sliding glass doors along the rear of the house: in the living room, the den, and the master bedroom. Vince had used two of them while Neal’d been inside him. And he’d locked neither of them.

Why should he? He’s sitting back there where he can keep an eye on them
.

The bedroom door, the one Elise had opened for Neal on Sunday night, might or might not be locked.

Neal pictured the position of the glass-topped table.

Only yards from the den door.

And Vince was seated so that he faced the bedroom area.

Those two doors were out.

Which left the living room door, not very far from where Vince sat, but at least behind him.

That’s if nobody’s changed position yet
.

Neal jogged across the front lawn, then stopped and glanced around the corner. Nobody. He rounded the corner and hurried on, walking swiftly through the shadows of the fruit trees. As he approached the back of the house, he detected the quiet murmur of voices.

He peeked around the corner.

They all sat around the table, just as when Neal had left them. Vince, as expected, was facing away. His head and bare, tanned shoulders showed above the back of his chair. Marta sat with her back to the pool. Neal had a good view of her left side and much of her front. Sue sat across the table from Vince, but somewhat closer to the house so that Neal had a clear line of sight.

She might be looking right at me
.

He slowly raised his hand and waved.

Sue nodded and said something Neal couldn’t make out. Vince laughed. Marta turned her head slightly in Neal’s direction. With her forefinger, she pushed at the bridge of her sunglasses. Neal
wiggled his forefinger at her. She faced Vince and reached out and picked up her drink.

Neal was fairly sure that Marta had spotted him. He wasn’t so sure about Sue.

If she hasn’t yet, she will
.

He pulled the pistol out of his pocket. Holding it ready by his side, he stepped around the corner of the house and began sneaking over the concrete toward the sliding door to the living room.

Keep him interested, ladies. Don’t let him look
.

Mouth parched, heart thumping fast, Neal raised his left hand and pressed his forefinger to his lips. Marta and Sue gave no hint that they saw him. They both acted as if they were enjoying cocktails with a fascinating movie star.

Neal kept moving, though he trembled badly. Soon, he was close enough to understand the words being spoken.

‘No,’ Marta said. ‘Not me. I broke up with my fellow almost a year ago.’

‘And why was that?’ Vince asked.

Neal still had such a long way to go – twelve, maybe fifteen feet.

The handle of the sliding glass door, still so far away, appeared to be only six feet behind Vince’s back.

I’ll never make it. He’ll look around and
. . .

‘Ah, he thought he owned me. I can’t stand
possessive
men. He was so jealous, he went nuts any time I so much as glanced at another guy. He even beat me up one time.’

Not me, Neal thought. Who is she talking about? Somebody beat her up? Who the hell did that? I’ll kill the son of a bitch.

Maybe she’s making it up
.

She’d better be
.

‘That’s awful!’ Vince blurted. Reaching out, he put a hand on Marta’s forearm.

Get your mitt off her, you fucking shit
.

‘Heinous. How could anyone
dare
to harm such a lovely young lady?’

‘Comes easy for some of them,’ Marta said.

‘Despicable.’

‘Well, he didn’t get a chance to hit me again, I’ll tell you that much. It was “so long, pal, been good to know you.”’

‘Only not
that
good, huh?’ Sue put in.

‘He was a low-down dirty bastard.’

She can’t be talking about me, Neal thought.

And he finally arrived at the handle of the door.


Keep talking, Marta. He’ll hear the slightest sound.’ God, I can’t believe I’m standing right behind him
.

Vince turned his head from Marta to Sue. ‘And how about you, Kitty Katt? Do
you
have a boyfriend?’

‘Not just now,’ Sue said. She smiled – a smile that seemed to be aimed over Vince’s shoulder and straight at Neal. ‘I had me one, only he was always
at
me, if ya know what I mean. It ain’t that I don’t like that sorta thing as much as anyone, only there’s a time and place for it. He just wouldn’t ever leave me alone. I never seen such a lech! Last time we went out, get this, he tried to boink me on a rollycoaster.’

‘Tried to
what
you?’ Vince asked.

‘Boink me, do me, screw me. Ya know?’

‘Ah. I see.’

‘Almost got us both killed.’

Vince chuckled. ‘I’ve never heard of anyone doing it on a rollercoaster. Sounds rather intriguing.’

‘Don’t ever try it if ya value yer life.’

Neal reached out carefully and gripped the door handle. But he didn’t dare pull it. Neal could well imagine the sucking squeak the door would make as it let go of the jamb.

He grimaced at Sue, then glanced toward Marta, who was taking a drink.

‘Looks as we’re all about ready for a refill,’ Vince said. ‘Can’t fly on one wing.’

Neal’s stomach dropped.

‘Not me,’ Sue said quickly. ‘Thanks anyhow. Maybe later. Time for me to hit the water.’ She shoved back her chair, sprang to her feet, whirled around and pranced toward the pool. Vince’s head turned to watch.

Neal watched, too.

She was tawny and shining, bare except for the skinny black bands of her suit. Neal supposed that Vince’s eyes must be locked on the flexing mounds of her buttocks. His own certainly were.

This is distracting the bastard all right, but he’s still going to hear the door
. . .

Sue leaped off the edge of the pool. In midair, she jerked up her legs and hugged her knees. She dropped rump-first.

Cannonball!

She struck the water with a heavy, solid splash –
THUGG-DUMP!

At the same moment, Marta yelled, ‘THAT-AWAY-T’-GO-KATTSY-BABE!!!’

At the same moment, Neal jerked the door open.

It let out a loud, squeaking suck, but Vince didn’t turn his head.

Nor did he turn his head to investigate the low rumble of its sliding. He probably couldn’t hear it through the splatter sounds of Sue’s falling splashwater pelting the surface of the pool and Marta’s voice saying to him, ‘I’m going in. Are you ready? You’re coming in, too, aren’t you?’

Neal stepped through the gap and into the living room.

‘Come on,’ Marta said. Looking back, he saw her stand up and pull at Vince’s arm. ‘Let’s go. Time to cool off. It’ll be great. No time like the present.’

Vince, laughing, allowed himself to be dragged from his chair.

When they were nearly to the pool, Neal eased the door shut.

In!

Forty-Nine
 

Neal stood just inside the glass door, staring out.

Marta didn’t release Vince’s arm until they reached the edge of the pool. Then she turned away from him and dived.

A lovely dive. She soared out low over the water and knifed in with barely a splash.

Vince dived in after her.

Neal muttered, ‘Shit.’

All three of them were in the pool, and Vince would no doubt go after the gals, hoping to grope them.

They’re earning their take, that’s for damn sure
.

Neal had known, before now, that he loved them both. But he’d never felt quite so aware of how fabulous they really were. Where did they come up with such guts and ingenuity and wit?

They’re both nuts
.

Fabulous nuts!

As impressed as Neal was with them, he hated to see them splashing around in the pool with Vince.

BOOK: Body Rides
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