Little Sister (33 page)

“Hold it, hold it,” said the officer. He turned to Noah. “Are you the guy from the garage?”

Noah nodded. “We’re gonna go get my buddy’s car. I’ve got my tow truck right outside.”

“All right. Well, why don’t you just get going and do that?” the cop suggested, giving both Andrew and Noah a little shove toward the door.

Andrew turned back on Francie. “You know she’ll do anything to stop us. What does it take to get through to you?” he growled.

Francie turned her face away from his, covering her eyes as if to shield them from too harsh a light.

“If I were you,” said Beth, “I’d get out of here before that big mouth of yours gets you into more trouble than you bargained for.”

“You shut up,” Andrew snarled at her.

“All right now, that’s enough,” said the cop. “Get out of here. Go on. I don’t want any more out of any of you.”

Noah grabbed Andrew by the arm and started to drag him toward the door. Andrew stared back at the two sisters, his eyes bright with rage.

“He’s insane,” said Beth flatly.

“I know,” said Francie.

“And you took off with him, so what does that make you?” Beth demanded.

Francie’s mouth dropped open, and she shook her head.

“Okay, okay. Everybody go home now and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Let’s go,” said Beth irritably.

“Thank you,” Francie said politely to the officer.

“Between you and me,” said the cop, “I think your sister’s right. He is bad news.”

Francie nodded and followed Beth out into the parking lot. She hurried to catch up with her sister. “Look, Beth,” said Francie as they reached the car, “I didn’t go with him on purpose. He made me go with him.”

Beth folded her arms across her chest. “I see,” said Beth shortly. “How did he do that?”

Francie shook her head and threw open her hands. “I was just talking to him after the funeral. He got this new car, and he insisted on giving me a ride home in it. I wanted to make him feel better, so I went. Then he drove right by our house, and when I told him to stop, he said we were leaving town. He had his bag all packed and everything. It was just lucky for me that we had this accident and I was able to get away. I was running down the highway and this cop came by and he picked us up.”

“So you’re saying he kidnapped you,” Beth said sarcastically.

“Really, yes, he did.”

“Well, that’s a crime, you know. Why didn’t you tell the police that when they picked you up? Wouldn’t that have been the obvious thing to do?” Beth’s voice trembled with barely controlled anger.

Francie’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses, and she stuck her chin out. “Yeah, I should have. And I’m sure they would have acted just like you. I mean, he didn’t use a weapon, and he’s a friend of mine, and I got in his car of my own choice. I’m sure they would have been very understanding. Just like you.”

Beth felt her face redden. She looked down and did not reply.

Francie jammed her hands in her pockets and shook her head. “I

don’t know why I called you. That was stupid. I thought you would take my side.” She gave a short, harsh laugh, and then she spoke again, her voice quivering with anger. “You know, I’m beginning to wonder about this whole thing of going with you. Why should I have to try to convince you that I’m telling the truth? He could have hurt me out there. I didn’t know what was going to happen—”

Beth put up a hand. “Wait,” she said. “Wait a minute. Okay. You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I thought you were running off with him or something.”

“I told you why I had to go to the funeral.”

“I know you did.”

“You didn’t trust me,” said Francie.

“I was…worried. Goddammit, I was really worried.”

Francie nodded. They stood in silence for a moment. “No reason you should have trusted me, I guess,” said Francie.

“It was him I didn’t trust,” said Beth. She shivered in the cold, damp air. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.

Francie nodded and got into the car. They drove home in silence, but the atmosphere between them was not tense. The sleeting rain had stopped, but the roads were still foggy, and Beth peered intently ahead as she drove, although her thoughts were not really on the road.

They reached the house, went inside, and turned on the lights. For the first time since they left the police station parking lot, Beth spoke. “Francie, I’m sorry about that misunderstanding. I mean it.”

“That’s all right,” said Francie. “I can see why you thought that.”

“I’ve been thinking about something else.”

“What?” Francie pushed her glasses up on her nose and looked curiously at her sister.

“Andrew.”

“What about him?”

“He’s dangerous, Francie. I’m convinced of it. Especially after this incident today.” She thought of mentioning the dentist and his wife and decided against it. There was no point in making an accusation like that. It was pure speculation, and it might just make the girl feel she had to defend him. “He’s obsessed with this idea of getting you back. I don’t think it’s safe to be around him.”

“He was bad this afternoon,” Francie admitted.

“I was thinking about it on the way home. All day really. I don’t think it would be wise to spend another night in this house.”

“Do you think he’d try to get in?”

“I don’t know what he’d try to do. I wouldn’t put anything past him at this point.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad,” said Francie.

“I don’t want to find out,” said Beth. “Anyway, I think we should leave tonight.”

“Tonight?” Francie mulled it over for a moment. “Well, we can’t. Our plane’s not until tomorrow, right?”

“What I’m thinking is that if we leave tonight, we can drive down. You’ve got a lot of stuff to bring, and I think Dad’s car can make the trip. It’ll save Aunt May’s having to mail all your stuff and dispose of the car. If we get tired, we can stop on the way and spend the night in a motel. What do you say?”

Francie’s shoulders slumped as she looked around. “It’s so sudden.”

“It won’t be any easier to leave tomorrow,” Beth said.

Francie nodded. “There’s a lot I still wanted to do.”

Beth walked over to the window and looked out into the charcoal gray sky. “Every time I glance outside I think I’m going to see him there, circling us. Maybe I’m just imagining things. I hope I am. But why should we take a chance? For the difference of one night. The sooner I get out of here, the better I’m going to feel.”

Francie sighed and looked sadly around the room. “You’re right. It won’t be any easier to leave tomorrow.”

“It really won’t.”

“I guess it would be fun to stay in a motel.”

“There you go,” said Beth. “We’ll make a good time out of it.”

“All right,” said Francie. “I’d better get busy.”

“Good,” said Beth, turning to the window and glancing out again. “Hurry.”

Because they worked steadily, it did not take them long to do their remaining packing and get the house in order. Beth called her aunt and explained the new plan while Francie feverishly filled boxes with her things. Beth finally dragged the last of the suitcases down to the kitchen and called out for Francie. A voice answered from outside, behind the house.

Beth pulled on her jacket and went out. Francie was standing in the backyard, staring at the dilapidated old house, its lighted windows glowing in the night, the naked branches of the side yard trees arching over it.

“Finished?” Beth asked.

Francie nodded. “I already put my stuff in the car.”

“The old place looks kind of cozy with those lights on in the dark, doesn’t it?” said Beth.

Francie nodded but didn’t speak.

“Maybe some nice family will get it and fix it up,” said Beth. “It needs a little loving care.”

“I hope so,” said Francie in a thick voice.

“I think so,” said Beth. They stood there in silence for a few moments. Then Beth said, “Come on. We’d better go.”

“Good-bye, house,” said Francie.

“I’ll just get my bags in the kitchen,” said Beth. “You get in the car.”

Beth went back in the house and made one last check of windows and doors. Then she went back into the kitchen and picked up the two suitcases full of odds and ends she was bringing back. Haul away, she told herself.

• Just as she passed the phone in the kitchen, it started to ring. Beth jumped. She turned and stared at the shrilly ringing phone, feeling a twisting in her stomach. It was him. She knew it.

The kitchen door opened, and Francie stuck her head in. “Do you want me to get that?” she asked. She walked over to the phone.

“No, don’t,” said Beth.

Francie looked at her in surprise, her hand poised over the receiver.

“Let it ring.”

The two sisters looked long at each other as the insistent ringing came to a halt.

“Let’s just go,” said Beth. “Now.”

Francie nodded and went out the kitchen door, slamming it behind her. Beth began to lug the heavy suitcases toward the door.

Just as she reached the door and turned the lights off in the kitchen, the ringing began again. Beth turned and looked at it, her eyes narrowed. “Go ahead and ring,” she said. “Ring your bloody head off.” She fixed the lock, slammed the door behind her, and hurried toward the waiting car.

ANDREW HUNG UP THE RECEIVER
on the pay phone beside the men’s room and went back into the garage through the office. Noah had the main doors of the garage closed against the cold.

He walked up to Noah, who had the hood of his old Pontiac open and was tinkering around with a wrench on the engine.

“What’s the matter with it?” said Andrew.

“Well, I’ve got a pretty good idea, but I’m gonna have to put it up on the lift.”

“Don’t play games with me, Noah. Just tell me how long it’s gonna take you to fix it.”

Noah slammed the hood down and pointed inside the car. “Take your junk out if you want anything in there.”

Scowling, Andrew opened the back door and removed the bag from the well behind the seat. He clutched the bag to his chest, imagining that he could feel the outline of the gun, which was in there, stashed among his clothes. The sight of the cop this afternoon, pulling up just as he had gotten hold of Francie, had practically made his heart stop. He was sure that the cop would search the car, go through his bag, and find the gun. They were probably looking for a gun now, a weapon that might have been used on the dentist and his wife. Luckily Francie had been good as gold. She had whimpered a little, but the cop assumed she was just upset about the accident. He hadn’t even bothered to look in the car. Andrew set the khaki-colored duffel bag down on the cold cement floor of the garage, and

Noah proceeded to activate the lift. Andrew watched in frustration as his new car left the ground.

“How’d you manage to do this anyway?” Noah asked as the car rose slowly up into the air.

“I told you. Some asshole truck driver ran us off the road. Me and Francie were leaving town.”

“Mmmm…” said Noah. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coveralls and walked under the car. He squinted up at the grime-blackened workings on the Pontiac’s underside. Then he rocked back and forth in his work boots. “That’s what I figured,” he said.

“You couldn’t figure your way out of a paper bag,” said Andrew. “Just cut the crap and tell me what it is.”

“Well, if you’re so smart, you tell me,” said Noah.

“Do you know or don’t you?” Andrew asked.

“Yep. It looks to me like you hit a rock when you went off the road.”

“Brilliant,” said Andrew.

Noah pointed upward. “See that? You’ve got no fluids. That’s why the car won’t start. When you hit the rock, you tore off the oil pan, and all the oil drained out. And the transmission pan is hanging on by a thread. All the fluid’s gone from there too.”

“All right, all right,” said Andrew. “Can you fix it?”

Noah sighed. “Well, it can be fixed. I don’t know if you want to put that kind of money into an old car like this. It’ll cost you almost what you paid for the car.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I asked if you can fix it.”

Noah shook his head. “You’re a nice guy, Andrew.”

“Oh, Mr. Sensitive.” Andrew looked down at his camp watch. “Just tell me how long it’s going to take. Francie and I want to get on the road again. She’s waiting for me. I’ve got to let her know what time we can get going.”

Noah laughed. “What time? Oh, you can forget the watch. Try looking at a calendar.”

Andrew stared at him.

“I’ve got to order the pans. For a car this old I’ll be lucky if I can even locate them. It’ll take them maybe two or three days to come in. Then I’ve got to fix the thing.”

“Use pans you have here.”

“I don’t have any here. It’s a special order. I’m telling you. I wouldn’t lie to you about it.”

“Can’t you fix the simplest thing without all this crapping around?” Andrew shouted.

“You wanna fix it?” Noah asked.

Sweat broke out on Andrew’s forehead, and he looked at his watch again. Then he looked down at the duffel bag. “I can’t wait,” he said. “I need it now.”

“I’m sorry,” said Noah. “That’s the way it is.”

A car horn sounded out by the gas pumps. “I’ve got a customer,” said Noah. “You decide what you want to do. I’ll be right back.”

Noah stumped away across the garage as Andrew stared up at the metal underbelly of his car. It was black and broken, and for a moment Andrew had the ugly sensation that it was like looking inside himself. “Why don’t you work, you fucking piece of junk? One goddamn day, not even. That’s all you were good for,” he muttered. The frustration seemed to be filling his throat, choking him. His means of escape hung there above him, useless as a severed limb.

For a moment the anger left him, and weariness rushed in, like a tide into an empty inlet. They were sure to catch him now. Someone would remember seeing him in Harrison. Maybe someone on the bus, that woman with the bratty kid maybe, had watched him when he left the bus, watched him turn up the walk to Ridberg’s house.

The bitch was probably thinking about it right now. Figuring that as soon as she got that snotty kid to bed, she would call the cops and tell them. She’d probably seen it on the news about the murders, and being nosy and thinking she was smart, she’d put two and two together. She’d describe him to the cops, and once the Oldham police got wind of it, they’d remember him from this afternoon.