Little Sister (34 page)

Fear crashed over him, and he thought he could hear a woman’s mocking laughter inside his head. He shouldn’t have killed the dentist. It was stupid. He hadn’t meant to. But the wife had driven him to it. His eyes turned hard as he remembered her pink, quivering face.

But then he straightened his shoulders a little. A flash of defiance returned. It had felt good. Good to see that self-righteous little sow cower at the sight of his gun. His face broke into a wintry grin as he recalled the fear in her eyes.

Well, it was not too late, he thought. He still had his gun. He could still get Francie, and she would stand by him. They’d get away from the cops somehow. If he had to kill them all, they would.

Noah opened the side door to the garage and came back in. He walked over to where Andrew stood and glanced up at the mangled underside of the car. “So,” he said, “Francie’s waiting for you to come and get her. That’s why you’re in such a hurry to get this fixed, right?”

Andrew bristled at the smug tone of Noah’s voice. “That’s what I said.”

“Well, that’s funny,” said Noah, bending over his toolbox and selecting a screwdriver. He stood up and began poking at the transmission pan, prying it loose. “’Cause she and her sister were just here, filling up their car. Seems they’re on their way to Philadelphia. Leaving tonight, they are. The both of them.”

Shock jolted through Andrew like an electrical charge. “What?”

“Yeah. The car was piled high with suitcases.”

“She can’t do that.”

“Well, she was doing it.” Noah poked at the car again. “Seemed pretty happy about it too.”

Andrew did not reply.

“Anyway, about the car,” said Noah, “now that I’m looking at it again, it looks like you tore a hole in the exhaust system too. I can fiddle with that while we wait for the pans to arrive. As I said, it’ll take two or three days. Then a day to put the pans in. But I don’t know if it’s worth it really. I can’t recommend it. Even if I give it to you at cost, it’s too much money to put into a car this old. It’s up to you.”

He looked out from under the car at Andrew, who was staring fixedly at the doors of the garage.

“YOU’RE AWFULLY QUIET,” SAID BETH
as she drove along one of the two-lane highways leading out of Oldham.

“I know,” said Francie.

“It’s hard leaving a place you lived in all your life.”

“Was it hard for you when you left?”

Beth hesitated. “It was different. I wanted to get away. You’ve been kind of pushed out before you were ready. But yeah, in a way it was strange for me too. I didn’t know what to expect. I felt a little like I was stepping off the edge of the world.”

“Yeah,” said Francie in a small voice.

“You’ll be surprised how fast a new place can start to seem like home, though.”

“Maybe. I hope so.” Francie was quiet for a few moments. Then she went on. “It’s not like I was so happy there all the time. But I knew everybody and and where everything was…”

Beth could hear tears in Francie’s voice, and she had the impulse to interrupt, to try to change the subject, but she stopped herself. Let her talk if she needs to, she thought. She murmured, as if to encourage the girl.

“The house and school.” Francie went on. “I don’t know how I’ll get along with the other kids there in Philadelphia. They’ll probably think I’m some kind of hick and won’t speak to me.”

Beth felt as if she were experiencing every one of Francie’s fears as the girl enumerated them, and a little sense of panic rose in her. “Don’t worry,” she said, as much to reassure herself as Francie. “It’ll

take a little time to adjust, but it’ll all work out. It’ll be easier than you think.”

“I guess so,” said Francie, her voice a little less shaky. After a few minutes she said, “Did you get that headstone for Dad?”

“Uh, no,” said Beth slowly. “I didn’t. I had a problem there.”

“Didn’t you find the place?”

“I found it all right. There was nobody there to help me when I arrived.”

“Did you wait for somebody to come?”

“Nooo,” said Beth. “That is, I waited a little while, but—the truth is that while I was waiting I started getting concerned about you and Andrew, and I decided to come back.”

“Just like that. All of a sudden?”

Beth chewed her lip for a second. “It was because of something I heard on the radio. It was silly, I guess. It’s not important now. Anyway, I figured I could ask Aunt May to pick out something and send me the bill. I’m sorry I didn’t get it.”

“That’s okay,” said Francie in a doleful tone.

“Speaking of the radio, do you want some music?” Beth asked with forced brightness.

“Sure,” said Francie. She leaned over and fiddled with the dial until she found a music station. She sat back in her seat as if she were relaxed. Beth looked over at her out of the comer of her eye. Francie’s eyes were weary, but her hands were clasped tensely together. Beth felt as if the mention of Andrew’s name had summoned his presence between them, and the song that blared out of the radio did not dispel it.

“It’s been a rough day,” said Beth.

Francie nodded. “That’s the truth.”

“You know,” said Beth, leaning over and turning down the radio volume, “I’m still feeling a little guilty about today and accusing you of going off with Andrew.”

“I didn’t want to go anywhere with Andrew,” said Francie.

“I know. The point is, we’re going to be living together now, and I’m going to try not to jump to any conclusions like that. I mean, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.” Beth gave a shaky laugh. “You’ll have to be a little patient with me.”

“I think you’ll turn out all right,” said Francie.

Beth smiled. They lapsed into silence, the radio playing softly between them. Beth peered out at the road ahead. It was still foggy, but at least the sleet had stopped, although the road remained a little icy. Once they hit Route 95, it was a clear shot to Philadelphia, or at

least to a motel room somewhere in Connecticut. Meanwhile, she had to negotiate a series of two-lane highways, some of them in a rather pitted condition. There was no problem in staying alert, she thought. Her nerves were jangled after the day’s upheavals and the rush to get on the road. Take it easy, she reminded herself. You’re on your way home. She had a sudden image of herself opening the front door of the house, the warmth of it rushing over her as she ushered Francie inside and closed the door behind them. She thought that maybe she’d build a fire in the fireplace when they got in tomorrow. It would be lovely to relax in front of a fire, the flames dancing cheerfully in the grate.

As if to echo her thoughts, a flashing yellow light caught her eye. She looked up into the rearview mirror and saw that the vehicle with the flashing light was behind them, coming up rapidly on their tail.

Francie sat up and noticed it too. “It’s the cops,” she said.

“I’m afraid so,” said Beth. She looked down at her speedometer. “I wasn’t speeding,” she said.

“Maybe it’s not for us,” said Francie.

“Maybe,” said Beth, “but there’s nobody else around.” She kept driving, her hands tense on the wheel, but when she glanced up in the mirror again, the flashing light was still on their tail.

“It’s too big to be a police car,” said Francie.

“Must be one of those vans.”

“They do patrol these roads,” said Francie. “Thank goodness. But what did we do?”

“Nothing that I know of.” Beth sighed. “I’d better pull over. See what he wants.”

Beth put her right blinker on and eased the car slowly over to the shoulder. She jerked the gearshift into park as they stopped. “What a pain in the ass,” said Beth, but her voice had a nervous edge. “They make you feel guilty even when you haven’t done anything.”

“I know,” said Francie.

The police vehicle stopped some ways behind them. Beth opened her purse and hunted for her license. Then she gasped and looked at Francie. “I hope the registration is in the car. I never even bothered to look. Open that glove compartment.”

Francie pushed the button, and the metal door dropped down. She looked around inside, rummaging in the collection of objects stored there. “What does it look like?”

“It’ll probably be in an envelope with a window.”

“I can’t find it.”

“Let me look,” said Beth. She leaned across the seat and peered

into the lighted cavity. “Oh, shit,” Beth muttered. “Where is it? Don’t tell me it was somewhere in all those papers. Shit. I knew I’d throw out something important.”

Francie sat up and looked back over the seat. She could see the man from the parked vehicle walking up to their car. She frowned and said, “Don’t they usually wear hats?”

“Got it,” said Beth, sitting up in the seat and rolling down the window.

The man’s left hand curled over the half-opened window. He bent over and stared into the car. In his right hand he held a gun. Francie screamed, and Beth looked up and saw glittering eyes and a frozen smile. “Andrew,” she whispered.

For a second she was paralyzed. Then instinct forced her to move. She jammed her left elbow down on the door lock, turned on the ignition, and stomped on the gas. The car jerked forward, and Andrew’s hand smashed into the window frame. He seemed to fall away from the car. Beth did not look back, but she heard Francie cry out, “He’s gonna shoot.”

Almost as soon as the words were out Beth heard a crack and thud from the gun, and the back window of the car exploded. The wheel turned crazily in her hands as he fired again, and she tried to steer away from him. The car began to skid on the icy road, and she saw a tree appear in her headlights and heard the crunch of metal as the impact of the collision threw her back against the seat, bumping her head on the roof of the car.

For a second she sat there, stunned, as if she still expected the car to be in motion. Her hands, sweaty and weak, gripped the wheel. She looked over at Francie, who was holding onto the seat as if she were on a roller coaster, her eyes wide behind the lenses of her glasses. Their eyes locked in shared dread. He was beside them again, the barrel of the gun poking through the window.

“Open the fucking door,” he said. “And get out.”

For a moment Beth hesitated, trying to think of an alternative. But the gun barrel mocked her, assuring her of her impotence. “I have to do it,” she said, half to Francie, half to herself.

Francie nodded.

/ knew it, Beth thought. / knew he was crazy. It was no comfort. Slowly she opened the door and, with leaden limbs, pushed herself out of the car.

“You, too, babe,” he said to Francie.

Francie got out, her eyes trained on his face.

“We’re going back to my truck,” he said. “Move it.”

“Someone will see our car,” said Francie.

“So they’ll see your car. You had an accident and you left it there. Just like we did this afternoon. No one will care.”

Francie gave him a baleful look and joined Beth, who was slumped against the back of the car.

“Get going,” said Andrew, gesturing with the gun.

“Don’t wave that thing,” Beth muttered.

“What?” said Andrew.

“Come on.” Francie urged her.

They walked back toward the vehicle parked by the side of the road. As they approached it, Francie exclaimed, “That’s the tow truck from Noah’s.”

“That’s right,” said Andrew with a satisfied smile. “Fooled ya.” He poked the gun into Beth’s ribs, and she lurched forward.

“Did you steal it from him?” Francie asked.

“I borrowed it.”

“He would never lend that truck to you. You stole it, didn’t you?”

“No,” said Andrew. “I convinced him to give it to me as a present. With this.” He brandished the gun.

“He’ll call the police,” said Francie.

Andrew’s eyes had a vacant expression. “No, he won’t. He won’t be calling anyone.”

“Did you hurt him?” Francie asked.

“Don’t even talk to him,” Beth whispered.

“Don’t tell her what to do,” Andrew screamed at Beth, poking the gun in her cheek.

Beth felt the cold metal on her flesh, pressing up against her teeth. Her stomach flipped over.

“You’ve told her what to do for the last time,” said Andrew. “I knew when I saw you what you were like. Bossing her around. Thinking you owned her. Well, we’ll see who owns her. Get in the truck,” he said. He indicated the driver’s seat to Beth. “You’re driving.”

Slowly Beth pulled the door open and climbed in. Andrew turned to Francie. “Come on.” He steered her around to the other side.

Beth sat in the cab, staring numbly at the dashboard of the truck. “I can’t drive one of these,” she said. “I’ve never driven one.”

The passenger door opened, and Andrew climbed in, pushing Francie ahead of him. He dragged her onto his lap and forced her head down. “You’ll drive it,” he said. “It’s not that different from driving a Volkswagen when it’s not towing anything. Now move it. Make a U-turn. We’re going back this way.”

Beth turned on the ignition and fumbled anxiously with the stick

shift, her foot sliding on the clutch. She looked both ways, but there was no one coming. She pulled out and around for the U-turn. The truck bucked and stalled as she lifted her foot too quickly off the clutch.

“Be careful,” Andrew screamed. “You don’t want this to go off accidentally.” He pressed the gun to Beth’s side.

Beth licked her lips and shook her head. Where was he taking them? she wondered. It was like a nightmare come to life. Slowly she put the truck back in gear and eased up on the clutch as she gave it gas. The truck started to roll down the highway.

“We’re by the lake,” said Francie.

“That’s right. By our place,” said Andrew.

Beth felt her palms sweat on the wheel. What place? she thought. She tried to force herself not to panic. He was still holding the gun on her while he stroked Francie’s hair with his free hand. Beth wet her lips again and spoke in a shaky voice. “Andrew, listen,” she said, “there’s no need for this. We’re not strangers. We can talk this over, and no one will be hurt.”

“That’s far enough,” Andrew cried. “Turn off here. And shut up. Go down that dirt road.”

Beth hesitated, unable to see the dirt road in the darkness.