Full dark,no stars (26 page)

His recreational facility. His kill-zone. He drove it down here, parked, walked back to the deserted store, and then off he went in his old F-150. Good thing I didnt come to sooner; hed have found me wandering around in a daze and I wouldnt be here now.

She looked back over her shoulder. In one of the movies she now could not stop thinking about, she surely would have seen the cab speeding away (leaving me to my fate), but it was still right there. She lifted a hand to the driver, and he lifted his in return. She was fine. Her car was here and the giant wasnt. The giant was at his house (his lair), quite possibly still sleeping off the previous evenings exertions.

The sign on the door said WE ARE CLOSED. Tess knocked and got no response. She tried the knob and when it turned, sinister movie plots returned to her mind. The really stupid plots where the knob always turns and the heroine calls out (in a tremulous voice), Is anybody there? Everyone knows shes crazy to go in, but she does anyway.

Tess looked back at the cab again, saw it was still right there, reminded herself that she was carrying a loaded gun in her spare purse, and went in anyway. 24 -

She entered a foyer that ran the length of the building on the parking lot side. The walls were decorated with publicity stills: bands in leather, bands in jeans, an all-girl band in miniskirts. An auxiliary bar stretched out beyond the coatracks; no stools, just a rail where you could have a drink while you waited for someone or because the bar inside was too packed. A single red sign glowed above the ranked bottles: BUDWEISER.

You like Bud, Bud likes you, Tess thought.

She took off her dark glasses so she could walk without stumbling into something and crossed the foyer to peep into the main room. It was vast and redolent of beer. There was a disco ball, now dark and still. The wooden floor reminded her of the roller-skating rink where she and her girlfriends had all but lived during the summer between eighth grade and high school. The instruments were still up on the bandstand, suggesting that The Zombie Bakers would be back tonight for another heaping bowl of rock n roll.

Hello? Her voice echoed.

Im right here, a voice replied softly from behind her. 25 -

If it had been a mans voice, Tess would have shrieked. She managed to avoid that, but she still whirled around so quickly that she stumbled a little. The woman standing in the coat alcove-a skinny breath of a thing, no more than five feet three-blinked in surprise and took a step back. Whoa, easy.

You startled me, Tess said.

I see I did. The womans tiny, perfect oval of a face was surrounded by a cloud of teased black hair. A pencil peeked from it. She had piquant blue eyes that didnt quite match. A Picasso girl, Tess thought. I was in the office. Are you the Expedition lady or the Honda lady?

Expedition.

Have ID?

Yes, two pieces, but only one with my picture on it. My passport. The other stuff was in my purse. My other purse. I thought that was what you might have.

No, sorry. Maybe you stashed it under the seat, or something? We only look in the glove compartments, and of course we cant even do that if the car is locked. Yours wasnt, and your phone number was on the insurance card. But probably you know that. Maybe youll find your purse at home. Neals voice suggested that this wasnt likely. One photo ID will be okay if it looks like you, I guess.

Neal led Tess to a door at the back of the coat area, then down a narrow curving corridor that skirted the main room. There were more band photos on the walls. At one point they passed through a fume of chlorine that stung Tesss eyes and tender throat.

If you think the johns smell now, you should be here when the joint is going full tilt, Neal said, then added, Oh, I forgot-you were.

Tess made no comment.

At the end of the hallway was a door marked OFFICE STAFF ONLY. The room beyond was large, pleasant, and filled with morning sunshine. A framed picture of Barack Obama hung on the wall, above a bumper sticker bearing the YES WE CAN slogan. Tess couldnt see her cab-the building was in the way-but she could see its shadow.

Thats good. Stay right there and get your ten bucks. And if I dont come out, dont come in. Just call the police.

Neal went to the desk in the corner and sat down. Lets see your ID.

Tess opened her purse, fumbled past the.38, and brought out her passport and her Authors Guild card. Neal gave the passport photo only a cursory glance, but when she saw the Guild card, her eyes widened. Youre the Willow Grove lady!

Tess smiled gamely. It hurt her lips. Guilty as charged. Her voice sounded foggy, as though she were getting over a bad cold.

My gran loves those books!

Many grans do, Tess said. When the affection finally filters down to the next generation-the one not currently living on fixed incomes-Im going to buy myself a ch?teau in France.

Sometimes this earned her a smile. Not from Ms. Neal, however. I hope that didnt happen here. She wasnt more specific and didnt have to be. Tess knew what she was talking about, and Betsy Neal knew she knew.

Tess thought of revisiting the story shed already told Patsy-the beeping smoke detector alarm, the cat under her feet, the collision with the newel post-and didnt bother. This woman had a look of daytime efficiency about her and probably visited The Stagger Inn as infrequently as possible during its hours of operation, but she was clearly under no illusions about what sometimes happened here when the hour grew late and the guests grew drunk. She was, after all, the one who came in early on Saturday mornings to make the courtesy calls. She had probably heard her share of morning-after stories featuring midnight stumbles, slips in the shower, etc., etc.

Not here, Tess said. Dont worry.

Not even in the parking lot? If you ran into trouble there, Ill have to have Mr. Rumble talk with the security staff. Mr. Rumbles the boss, and securitys supposed to check the video monitors regularly on busy nights.

It happened after I left.

I really do have to make the report anonymously now, if I mean to report it at all. Because Im lying, and shell remember.

If she meant to report it at all? Of course she did. Right?

Im very sorry. Neal paused, seeming to debate with herself. Then she said, I dont mean to offend you, but you probably dont have any business in a place like this to begin with. It didnt turn out so well for you, and if it got into the papers well, my gran would be very disappointed.

Tess agreed. And because she could embellish convincingly (it was the talent that paid the bills, after all), she did. A bad boyfriend is sharper than a serpents tooth. I think the Bible says that. Or maybe its Dr. Phil. In any case, Ive broken up with him.

A lot of women say that, then weaken. And a guy who does it once-

Will do it again. Yes, I know, I was very foolish. If you dont have my purse, what property of mine do you have?

Ms. Neal turned in her swivel chair (the sun licked across her face, momentarily highlighting those unusual blue eyes), opened one of her file cabinets, and brought out Tom the Tomtom. Tess was delighted to see her old traveling buddy. It didnt make things all better, but it was a step in the right direction.

Were not supposed to remove anything from patrons cars, just get the address and the phone number if we can, then lock it up, but I didnt like to leave this. Thieves dont mind breaking a window to get a particularly tasty item, and it was sitting right there on your dashboard.

Thank you. Tess felt tears springing into her eyes behind her dark glasses and willed them back. That was very thoughtful.

Betsy Neal smiled, which transformed her stern Ms. Taking Care of Business face to radiant in an instant. Very welcome. And when that boyfriend of yours comes crawling back, asking for a second chance, think of my gran and all your other loyal readers and tell him no way Jose. She considered. But do it with the chain on your door. Because a bad boyfriend really is sharper than a serpents tooth.

Thats good advice. Listen, I have to go. I told the cab to wait while I made sure I was really going to get my car.

And that might have been all-it really might have been-but then Neal asked, with becoming diffidence, if Tess would mind signing an autograph for her grandmother. Tess told her of course not, and in spite of all that had happened, watched with real amusement as Neal found a piece of business stationery and used a ruler to tear off the Stagger Inn logo at the top before handing it across the desk.

Make it To Mary, a true fan. Can you do that?

Tess could. And as she was adding the date, a fresh confabulation came to mind. A man helped me when my boyfriend and I were you know, tussling. If not for him, I might have been hurt a lot worse. Yes! Raped, even! Id like to thank him, but I dont know his name.

I doubt if I could do you much good there. Im just the office help.

But youre local, right?

Yes

I met him at the little store down the road.

The Gas amp; Dash?

I think thats the name. Its where my boyfriend and I had our argument. It was about the car. I didnt want to drive and I wouldnt let him. We were arguing about it all the time we walked down the road staggered down the road staggered down Stagg Road

Neal smiled as people do when theyve heard a joke many times before.

Anyway, this guy came along in an old blue pickup truck with that plastic stuff for rust around the headlights-

Bondo?

I think thats what its called. Knowing damn well that was what it was called. Her father had supported the company almost single-handed. Anyway, I remember thinking when he got out that he wasnt really riding in that truck, he was wearing it.

When she handed the signed sheet of paper back across the desk, she saw that Betsy Neal was now actually grinning. Oh my God, I might actually know who he was.

Really?

Was he big or was he real big?

Real big, Tess said. She felt a peculiar watchful happiness that seemed located not in her head but in the center of her chest. It was the way she felt when the strings of some outlandish plot actually started to come together, pulling tight like the top of a nicely crafted tote-bag. She always felt both surprised and not surprised when this happened. There was no satisfaction like it.

Did you happen to notice if he was wearing a ring on his little finger? Red stone?

Yes! Like a ruby! Only too big to be real. And a brown hat-

Neal was nodding. With white splatters on it. Hes been wearing the damn thing for ten years. Thats Big Driver youre talking about. I dont know where he lives, but hes local, either Colewich or Nestor Falls. I see him around-supermarket, hardware store, Walmart, places like that. And once you see him, you dont forget him. His real name is Al Something-Polish. You know, one of those hard-to-pronounce names. Strelkowicz, Stancowitz, something like that. I bet I could find him in the phone book, because he and his brother own a trucking company. Hawkline, I think its called. Or maybe Eagle Line. Something with a bird in it, anyway. Want me to look him up?

No, thanks, Tess said pleasantly. Youve been helpful enough, and my cabdrivers waiting.

Okay. Just do yourself a favor and stay away from that boyfriend of yours. And stay away from The Stagger. Of course, if you tell anyone I said that, Ill have to find you and kill you.

Fair enough, Tess said, smiling. Id deserve it. At the doorway, she turned back. A favor?

If I can.

If you happen to see Al Something-Polish around town, dont mention that you talked to me. She smiled more widely. It hurt her lips, but she did it. I want to surprise him. Give him a little gift, or something.

Not a problem.

Tess lingered a bit longer. I love your eyes.

Neal shrugged and smiled. Thanks. They dont quite match, do they? It used to make me self-conscious, but now

Now it works for you, Tess said. You grew into them.

I guess I did. I even picked up some work modeling in my twenties. But sometimes, you know what? Its better to grow out of things. Like a taste for bad-tempered men.

To that there seemed to be nothing to say. 26 -

She made sure her Expedition would start, then tipped the cabdriver twenty instead of ten. He thanked her with feeling, then drove away toward the I-84. Tess followed, but not until shed plugged Tom back into the cigarette lighter receptacle and powered him up.

Hello, Tess, Tom said. I see were taking a trip.

Just home, Tommy-boy, she said, and pulled out of the parking lot, very aware she was riding on a tire that had been mounted by the man who had almost killed her. Al Something-Polish. A truck-driving son of a gun. One stop on the way.

I dont know what youre thinking, Tess, but you should be careful.

If she had been home instead of in her car, Fritzy would have been the one to say this, and Tess would have been equally unsurprised. She had been making up voices and conversations since childhood, although at the age of eight or nine, shed quit doing it around other people, unless it was for comic effect.

I dont know what Im thinking, either, she said, but this was not quite true.

Up ahead was the US 47 intersection, and the Gas amp; Dash. She signaled, turned in, and parked with the Expeditions nose centered between the two pay phones on the side of the building. She saw the number for Royal Limousine on the dusty cinder block between them. The numbers were crooked, straggling, written by a finger that hadnt been able to stay steady. A chill shivered its way up her back, and she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging hard. Then she got out and went to the pay phone that still worked.

The instruction card had been defaced, maybe by a drunk with a car key, but she could still read the salient information: no charge for 911 calls, just lift the handset and punch in the numbers. Easy-as-can-beezy.