Night Hunter (38 page)

“
Please, Johnnie, answer me.”

He moved in ungainly steps to the bathroom. At the doorway, the light pierced his brain, intensifying the pain above his eye.

He found her in the tub, bubbles clinging like a white feather boa to her naked breasts.

With confusion and dismay clouding his brain, he went to her. What was she doing here? Was he dreaming, hallucinating? He had come downstairs from Regina’s to get the red wine, and now here he was standing in his bathroom, his head pounding, about to black out any second, gaping stupidly at a naked girl in his tub.

“
What ... ?” he asked, seeing blood, his own, drop on the linoleum at his feet.

“
Johnnie, your head. You’re bleeding.”

“
Ilona.” He leaned against the door frame. “What are you doing here? What ... what the hell ... ?”

Swiping at the blood that was working into his eye, he reached back, pulled down two towels, handed one to her and pressed the other one to his brow.

“
Please ...” He turned, leaving the room. “Come out of there.”

“
I wanted to surprise you,” she called out. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, to make you hurt your head. What happened?”

He fought a wave of nausea, unable to answer.

“
You ran into something. It’s my fault,” she said sadly, coming into the bedroom, the towel wrapped around her. “I surprised you too much. Johnnie, I’m sorry.”

It was obvious she had no idea what had taken place here. Not that he was too sure either. But someone else had been in this room and Ilona hadn’t been aware of it. There was no point in scaring her, he decided. Ignorance was bliss.

“
Ilona, you don’t just walk into people’s apartments and take a bubble bath.” He picked up her clothes and handed them to her.

She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

John looked around. Except for Ilona’s clothes scattered about, nothing else seemed out of place. What had his attacker wanted in his apartment? Could he have been looking for a way to get to Regina? It hurt his head to think.

Ilona straightened up and let the towel drop to expose two high, pointed breasts.

John stared long enough to show appreciation before he turned his back and went to the doorway. “Ilona, please get dressed.”

He heard her call his name again as he left to follow what he assumed was the path the intruder had taken.

In the kitchen he discovered the open window. On the closed-in brick area that served as his patio he found two tipped-over flower pots.

He went out, righted the pots, and cursed under his breath. He was certain Donna and Tammy’s attacker had been here. But why? Why?

When he reentered the bedroom, Ilona had put on her skirt and top, but her feet were still bare. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands limp in her lap, her head bowed.

Going to her, he knelt at her feet, lifted her foot, and slipped on her sandals.

“
How did you get here?”

“
I walked.”

The Doboses lived above the restaurant eight blocks away. It was dark now. He couldn’t just send her out to walk home alone. “I’ll call a cab for you.”

“
No!” she said, rearing back as if he’d slapped her. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I cannot go home yet.”

“
Why not?”

“
My family believe I am at school for my class in English. If I go home now, they will know I lied.”

“
The cab can take you to the school.”

“
There is no class tonight. It is canceled.”

John sighed. “What time is the class usually over?”

“
Ten.”

“
Ten o’clock?”

She nodded.

He looked at his watch. It was 9:15. His aunt was at her sewing group. Regina was waiting for him upstairs. He cursed his rotten luck.

She began to cry softly.

“
Please don’t cry.”

“
You hate me. I make fool of myself and now you hate me.”

“
That’s not true, Ilona.”

“
You only want to get rid of me. Out of your head.” She shook fingers through her hair. “Like that.”

“
Stop crying, please.”

“
I want to die. You think because I take off my clothes I am not a virgin?”

“
It doesn’t matter to me whether you’re a virgin or not.”

She cried harder.

“
Look, I’ll take you home at ten o’clock. Okay?”

She sniffed, swiping roughly at her eyes. She nodded, smiling weakly.

“
Good.”

“
Do you have wine?”

At the mention of wine he was reminded of the reason he had come downstairs in the first place. Regina was waiting for him to bring the wine that would accompany their dinner. “Ilona, I have to run upstairs. You’ll be all right till I get back. It’ll just take a few minutes.”

He hurried into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of red wine, and went out the apartment door. He nearly careened into Kristy, who had just come in.

“
Hi, John,” she said. “Hey, what happened to your head?”

“
Barbell fell on me,” he said, touching the cut that had now stopped bleeding but still hurt like hell.

“
You shouldn’t press weights without someone to spot for you.”

“
You’re right. It was dumb of me.”

From inside his apartment, Ilona called out to him. “Johnnie, where are you? Johnnie?”

Kristy stared at him.

He handed her the wine. “Give that to your mother, will you? And tell her I can’t make dinner tonight. Something’s come up. Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I can.”

“
Sure, okay,” she said, glancing into his apartment.

John went back inside and closed the door.

Ilona was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He motioned for her to come into the living room as he paced impatiently, glaring at his watch.

Regina had eaten little of the meal she’d prepared, though she had drunk a good portion of the wine.

Back in the living room, Regina picked up the list and the phone. She dialed, but hung up before it could ring. Without John, she realized, she had lost her enthusiasm for investigating.

After dousing most of the lights, she went to the window seat. She leaned against the inner casing, her knees drawn up to her chest, looking out at the tiny red lights atop the Bay Bridge as she listened to the distant, soft love songs from Kristy’s radio.

Again she wondered what had happened to prevent John from coming back upstairs. Kristy had handed her the bottle of wine and delivered the message from John. But there was something odd about the whole thing. Kristy had avoided her eyes through dinner, and after helping with the dishes, had disappeared into her room.

What could possibly have come up in the short span of time it took for him to run down to his place for a half bottle of wine? A death in the family? An accident? A change of heart?

Don’t be a fool, she told herself, one kiss does not an affair make. Something important had come up and it had nothing to do with her.

She found herself studying her shadowy image in the windowpane. Her looks had meant little to her for so many years. Leo had praised her in everything except her appearance, actually discouraging any notions of vanity. She thought of Corinne and Donna, beautiful women now marred for life, and suddenly she felt a sense of panic. Would John have looked twice at her, she wondered, if she hadn’t been pretty?

She heard the exterior door open and close. A moment later she saw two people standing on the sidewalk. A man and a woman —lovers, she surmised. They turned left, heading west. The woman had a youthful air about her. Her step was light, and her free arm swung back and forth, whipping the filmy gauze skirt about. She held onto the man’s arm, her head against his shoulder.

A car turned east onto the street and as it passed the couple, its beams bathed them in light.

Regina recognized the woman as the young Hungarian girl she’d met in John’s apartment. The man was John.

No wonder Kristy couldn’t look her in the face at dinner. Regina suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

From the dark front seat of the old Packard, Corinne watched the couple walk down the street. The woman clung possessively to John’s arm.

Corinne waited until they reached the corner before leaving the car. She followed, keeping close to the building fronts. After a half dozen blocks the pair ahead of her reached Van Ness Avenue. They crossed.

Corinne couldn’t decide whether to continue or turn back. The busy avenue was well lighted by traffic and street lamps. Standing on the corner, her hood pulled across the scarred side of her face, she decided to wait, watching until John and the young woman disappeared from view. But to her surprise, they stopped in front of a restaurant kitty-corner from her.

A man lumbered out of a bar several doors down and looked up and down the street. He stopped to light a cigarette and paused when he saw her. With the unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, he walked toward her, swaying drunkenly.

“
Hey, babe, you lost?”

Corinne turned her head away and said nothing.

“
Need an escort home?” He reached out and plucked at the sleeve of her coat.

She backed up and he pursued. More angry than frightened, she pushed at him. He was interfering in something very important.

“
Let’s see what you look like behind that mysterious hood,” the man said, cigarette bobbing between his slack lips. He pulled it away from her face.

The cigarette dropped from his mouth and he frowned before stepping backward, his eyes widening. Without another word he swiveled around and hurried off the way he’d come.

Corinne collapsed against the cold concrete building, fighting an array of emotions. She hated the man for reminding her how ugly she was. Then she remembered why she was there and, pushing her hate and anger aside, looked across the intersection.

John and the girl stood facing each other, then suddenly they merged as one. Corinne realized they were kissing. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wanted to laugh because the woman he was now kissing was not Regina, therefore it was obvious he didn’t love Regina. But she wanted to cry because the woman he was kissing was not her, Corinne.

John reached up and pulled Ilona’s arms away from his neck. Without warning she had embraced him, kissing him with brash, inexperienced force.

“
You’re going to get into trouble doing things like that,” John said, holding tight to her wrists.

She smiled and came forward again, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him again. John turned his head and her mouth brushed his jaw. “Good night,” he said, opening the door, turning her, then propelling her through. He pivoted quickly and strode away.

A little more than halfway home, he sensed he was being followed. He slowed, listened for footsteps. His head hurt where he had been hit. There was still a slight ringing in his ear and he wondered if that was responsible for the sounds he was hearing; making him think that someone was behind him, keeping pace. He spun around quickly and he swore he saw, just a flash, a dark figure being swallowed by shadows.