Come Out Tonight 16 страница

Chapter Forty-five

With three fresh Bloody Marys on the tray, Pete stepped outside. Sherry and Jeff were both staring at the radio. Pete said nothing as he approached. He walked carefully, worried he might stumble but more worried that his trunks might suddenly drop around his ankles.

Through the sounds of the wind, he could hear a female voice. But he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Her words were like bits of nonsense.

Sherry and Jeff quit listening at the same moment. Their heads turned toward Pete.

“You just missed it, ” Jeff said.

“The news? ”

“Yeah, man. It was the top story. ”

Pete held the tray toward Sherry. “Thanks, ” she said, and lifted her glass.

With the other two drinks still in place, he eased the tray down on the table. Then he hitched up his drooping trunks, took his glass off the tray and stepped over to his chair. As he sat down, he said, “So what’s going on? ”

“Well, ” Jeff said, “looks like Sherry’s friend is doing okay so far. He’s off the cridigle list. ”

“Glad to hear it. ”

Sherry nodded, her eyes glistening.

“Other two, still dead. ”

“That’s not very funny, ” Pete said.

“Ah, I know. ” Jeff lifted his glass off the tray and took a sip. “Mmmm, good. ”

“What about Toby? ” Pete asked.

“They didn’t mention him, ” Sherry answered. “I don’t think they know anything about him. How would they? I’m the only one who…” She frowned. “Actually, Jim probably knows his name. ” She took a sip of her Bloody Mary. “Maybe he hasn’t been able to talk yet. ”

“Jim knows the last name? ” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think so. ”

“What was it again? ”

“Trying to trick me, Jeffrey? ”

“Moi? ”

“I’m not going to tell. ”

“I’d tell you. ”

“But I already know, ” Sherry pointed out.

“If I did know ’n’ you didn’t, I’d tell. You bet I would. Wouldn’t I, Petie? ”

“Sure. ”

Jeff took a couple of swallows, leaned toward Sherry and said, “What do you wanta know? You ask, I’ll tell. ”

Looking him in the eyes, Sherry asked, “Do you have a girlfriend? ”

“Sure do. ”

“What’s her name? ”

“Mary Jane Thatcher. ”

Pete had never heard of Mary Jane Thatcher. He supposed Jeff must’ve pulled the name out of nowhere, just for an answer.

“Now my turn to question you, ” Jeff said. “What’s Toby’s name? ”

“Toby. ”

“Toby what? ”

“Give it up, ” Pete told him.

“I wanta know. ”

“I don’t want you to know, ” Sherry said.

“Why not? ”

“Come on, Jeff, leave her alone. ”

“If you know who he is, ” Sherry explained, “you might try to find him. ”

“Durn tootin’, ” Jeff said.

“Yeah, ” Pete said. “I wouldn’t mind that, myself. ”

“This isn’t a game, guys. ”

“We know that, ” Pete said. “Look what he did to you. ”

“You want to get revenge on him for that, don’t you? ”

“Sure do, ” Pete said.

“Fuckin’-A. ”

“I could use a little vengeance, myself, ” Sherry said.

“We’ll take care of it for you, ” Pete offered.

“No, you won’t. You might end up like Jim. Or worse. I’ve already gotten two people killed. So far. That I know of. Maybe there’re even more by now. I don’t want you guys added to the list. ”

“We’d wipe up the floor with him, ” Jeff said.

“You won’t get the chance. What I’ll have to do…I guess I’ll call the cops and tell them everything. Give them his last name. ”

“What is it again? ” Jeff asked.

“Very funny. ”

“Not really, ” Pete said.

“If you call the cops, ” Jeff explained, “they’re gonna show up and haul you off to the hospital. That what y’want? ”

“Not much. ”

“Know what else? They’re gonna know we all been drinkin’. Me and Pete’ll be up the ol’ Shit Creek without the ol’ paddle. ”

Pete muttered, “Oh, man. If my parents find out…”

“They’ll find out, all right. They’ll have to bail your ass outa jail. ”

“Nobody’s going to jail, ” Sherry said. “And nobody has to find out you’ve been drinking. I can hold off on making the call. ”

“Good idea, ” Pete said.

“I’m all for that, ” Jeff said. “Let’s wait till tomorrow. ”

“Afraid not, ” Sherry said. “But I can wait a couple of hours. Why don’t we all have a bite to eat and then take a nap? An hour or two of sleep, we’ll probably all be good and sober. ”

“You saying we oughta sleep together? ” Jeff asked.

“Cut it out, ” Pete told him.

“Chill, man. I’m just kidding around. ” Grinning at Sherry, he said, “It’s da booze talkin’. ”

“I know what it is. Don’t worry about it. ”

“I’m not such a bad guy, you get to know me. ”

“You’re a fine guy. You’re both fine guys. I’m really lucky I was found by a couple of fellas like you two. ”

“Thanks, ” Pete said, feeling a warm mixture of delight that she appreciated them—and guilt.

She wouldn’t feel so kindly toward them if she knew the truth.

But she doesn’t, he reminded himself. Thank God.

“So what’s for lunch? ” Jeff asked.

Pete looked at Sherry. “What do you feel like having? ”

“Just about anything. Don’t go to a lot of trouble, though. Maybe sandwiches, or…”

“How about grilled cheese? ” Pete suggested.

“Sounds great. ”

“Yeah, ” Jeff said. “I could go for that, too. ”

“Why don’t you come in and give me a hand? ”

“Why don’ I stay out here and keep Sherry company? ”

“Why don’t you not? ”

“I’ll be fine, ” Sherry told him. “Go on in and help, okay? It isn’t fair to make Pete do all the work. ”

“Yeah, well…if you say so. ”

“Anything I can get you from inside? ” Pete asked Sherry as he stood up.

“No thanks. I’m fine. ”

“Another Bloody Mary? ” Jeff suggested.

“Just started this one. ”

“How ’bout one for the other hand? ”

“No thanks. ”

“Okay. Well, don’ go away. ”

“I’ll try not to. ”

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“We’ll be back in a few minutes, ” Pete said. “If you need us for anything, just yell. ”

“I will. ”

He set his drink on the table, then muttered, “See ya, ” and headed for the house. Jeff followed him inside.

In the kitchen, Jeff said, “Soon as she gets that nap, man, she’s gonna call the cops. ”

“She should. ” Pete took a skillet out of a cupboard and set it on the stove. “She probably should’ve called ’em a long time ago. ”

“Fuck that. We gotta stop her. ”

“We’re not gonna stop her. ” He opened the refrigerator.

“They’ll take her away! ”

“I don’t want her to leave, either, but…”

“The cops take one look at her, they’ll have an ambulance out here. Presto-zippo, man, that’ll be the last we ever see of her. ”

A tub of butter and a pack of cheddar cheese in his hands, Pete stepped back from the refrigerator and kneed its door shut. “If she doesn’t call the cops, ” he said, “that Toby guy might go after her family. ”

“They’ll be okay. She warned ’em, right? Told ’em to get outa Dodge. ”

“She left a message, that’s all. ” Pete set the cheese and butter on the counter. “Who knows when they’re gonna come home and listen to it? Hell, maybe they’ll never hear it. ”

“They’ll hear it. Why wouldn’ they hear it? ”

“I don’t know, ” Pete said, “but it’s not like a hundred percent sure. Maybe they’ll forget to check the machine, or…”

“You worry way too much. ”

“I think we gotta let Sherry do anything she wants. Even like call the cops, you know? ’Cause what if we stop her and then Toby nails her family? It’d be our fault. ”

“They’ll be fine. ”

“Sure. If Toby doesn’t show up and demolish them. You wanta get some plates down? ” He pointed to a nearby cupboard.

“God I wish we’d get our hands on him, ” Jeff said. He opened the cupboard. “Three plates? ”

“Yeah. ”

Jeff reached up for them. “If we just nail his sorry ass, Sherry hasn’t gotta call the cops—she can just stay with us, you know? Like overnight? ”

“She doesn’t want us getting involved. ”

“We’re already involved, man! We’re involved up the Grand Wazoo! You’re in love with her ’n I sorta got the hotsies for her my own self. That’s involved! Ain’t that involved! ”

“Yep, ” Pete said.

“Fuckin’-A. ”

Pete opened a drawer and took out a paring knife. “Bring the plates over here, okay? I’ll cut the cheese and you get the bread. ”

“Don’ go cuttin’ the cheese, dude. ”

“Very funny. ”

Jeff came over to the counter and set down the plates. “Where’s the bread? ”

With the knife, Pete pointed at the loaf. Then he started trying to cut open the plastic wrapper around the cheese.

“We gotta do something, ” Jeff said, “or it’s gonna all be over in a couple of hours. ”

“What do you suggest? ”

“We gotta make her tell us Toby’s name. Then we gotta find him and take him out. ”

Pete looked around at Jeff. “Take him out? ”

“Take him right the fuck out. You know? ”

“I know. ”

“You got a problem with that? ”

“Why should I have a problem with a little thing like that? Do it all the time. ”

“I mean it, man. ”

“You’re talking about killing a person. ”

“You betcha. ” Jeff’s eyes gleamed. “The fucker who did that to Sherry. You got a problem with that? ”

“Like murder him? ”

“Whatever. Murder him, kill him, cancel his ticket. Yeah. You betcha. You said you’d like to get your hands on him. Did you mean it? ”

“I meant it. ”

“So let’s do it. ”

“I don’t know about actually killing someone, though. ”

“He damn near killed Sherry. You saw what he did to her, man. And he raped her. You saying you don’t wanta kill him for that? ”

“I want him punished, that’s for sure. ”

“How you think he’s gonna get punished, the cops get him? Only way they’re gonna kill his ass is if he goes up against ’em with a gun or something. You know that. Chances are, he won’t get a scratch on him when they bust him. If they bust him. ”

Pete groaned, then turned away and tore the remains of the wrapper off the cheese. He placed the block of cheese on one of the plates and started to slice it. “How about buttering the bread? ”

“Sure. ” Jeff stepped up to the silverware drawer, opened it and took out a dinner knife. “So the cops, they nab Toby, right? If they nab him. Then what happens? ”

“A trial, ” Pete said, and cut another slice.

“Right. Maybe like a year or two down the road. All that time, he’s in jail—if we’re lucky. And Sherry, she hasta wait and worry and be the center of addenshun. News people all over her like the fuckin’ vultures they are. Then comes the trial and she’s gotta testify against the asshole. And she’s probably on the TV all the time so everybody ends up knowing every damn thing about her and every single shitty thing Toby did to her. They’ll rip her life apart. Y’know? She’s the victim, ’n they get crucified every fuckin’ time there’s a trial. ’N for what? For nothin’! Know what I mean? ”

“This being Los Angeles, ” Pete said, “the jury acquits Toby and he goes free. ”

“You better fuckin’ believe it. They let Toby go and he gets to play golf the rest of his fuckin’ life—or maybe he goes on a little spree ’n takes out Sherry just for the fun of it. ”

“On the other hand, ” Pete said, “they probably would find him guilty. ”

“Might. Not problee. ”

“Okay, might. ”

“So he goes to the slammer. Big whoop. ”

“Killing all those people is ‘special circumstances, ’” Pete pointed out. “So he might get the death penalty. ”

“So they maybe kill him fifteen years down the road. If at all. And meanwhile, back at the ol’ ranch, Sherry has to keep dealing with it. ”

Pete smirked and shook his head. “You oughta be a lawyer. ”

“No way, man. Gonna be an assassin. ”

Pete laughed. “Sure. ”

“Waste bad guys. ”

“This isn’t the movies, you know. ”

“Tell you what. You write about my eggsploits. Forget them wimpy-ass novels. You be my Roswell. ”

“Boswell. ”

“Fuckin’-A! And we’ll start it all off with how we wiped Toby Asshole off the face of the earth. ”

“You’re nuts. Anyway, we can’t do anything to him unless we can find him. ”

“Eggzackly. ”

Chapter Forty-six

With Sid’s key in the ignition, Toby drove the Mercedes to the house at 2832 Clifton Street.

As he approached, he slowed down.

There was no car in the driveway.

He saw no sign of Sherry’s parents or Brenda.

What if nobody’s home?

He started to feel angry and cheated.

Take it easy, he told himself, driving past the house. This could turn out really good. Maybe Mom and Dad took off in the car and left Brenda alone. Or maybe Brenda’s the one with the car.

Any way you slice it, he thought, this’ll be fine. Things’ll be a lot easier if I don’t have to handle all three at once.

At the end of the block, he turned the corner and parked his car. He pocketed Sid’s keys, climbed out, and went to the sidewalk.

Sherry’s pistol was heavy in the right-hand front pocket of his shorts. With each stride, it swung and brushed against his thigh. Anyone watching him would see the swinging, but the pocket was very deep and the shorts were loose and baggy. Nobody should be able to tell that the pocket held a gun.

Or that he had a folding Buck knife

with a four-inch blade in the left-hand front pocket of his shorts.

Or that he carried a screwdriver, its handle hidden beneath the hanging front of his shirt, its eight-inch shaft underneath his belt and shorts, cool against the side of his right leg.

Or that he had a pair of rubber gloves stuffed inside his right rear pocket.

Or that his left rear pocket held a pair of pliers.

Or that he was bare underneath his big, floppy shorts.

So much that nobody could tell by looking.

People did look, but he knew they weren’t seeing him with his hidden truths.

An elderly couple walked by. They glanced at him, nodded and smiled. He nodded and smiled back. A dapper fellow came along carrying a white poodle. He gave Toby a curt nod and kept going. Across the street, a woman gliding along beneath a white turban didn’t seem to be aware of him at all. Neither did the gawky, darkly tanned gal who jogged by on the street. She looked wizened and breastless and carried a water bottle on her hip.

None of you see me, Toby thought.

All they saw, if anything at all, was a shaggy-haired, hefty teenager strolling along with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.

What song in my heart? he wondered.

He began to sing to himself, very softly, “Stuck in the Middle with You. ”

And smiled, picturing the scene in Reservoir Dogs.

And wished he looked like Michael Madsen.

If I looked like him, Toby thought, the babes’d be all over me.

Oh, well. Who needs good looks when you’ve got weapons?

He stepped up to the front door and rang the bell. He heard chimes, but no other sounds came from inside the house.

Anybody home? Come on, come on.

He rang the bell again.

Nothing.

He shrugged for the benefit of any neighbor who might be watching, then turned away from the door, stepped down from the stoop and went to the driveway. Its iron gate was shut.

He smiled toward the gate, raised an arm in greeting, and said in a cheerful voice, “Oh, there you are. I’ll come through. ”

He walked to the gate, lifted its latch and swung it open. On the other side, he pulled it shut. The latch fell into place with a quiet clank.

Though his heart pounded hard, he had to smile at his performance.

Ahead of him, the driveway was empty all the way to the closed door of the garage. Just to the left of the driveway was a redwood fence. It must’ve been six feet high, but the neighbor’s house stood just beyond it. From where he stood, Toby could see the upper regions of several windows. The curtains seemed to be shut, but that was no guarantee that the neighbor wasn’t peering out near the top, keeping an eye on him.

So he moved on.

At the rear corner of the house, he said, “Ah, there you are. Sorry I’m late. Want some help with that? ”

He saw no one.

The back yard had a concrete patio with a padded lounge, lawn chairs, a white-painted picnic table, and a gas barbecue grill. Some T-shirts and nightshirts, hanging from a clothesline, were being lifted and flapped by the wind.

Toby stepped behind the house.

He turned around slowly, scanning the garage, the fences and trees.

Plenty of privacy back here.

He stared at the faded green pad of the lounge.

I bet Brenda sunbathes on that.

He pictured her lying there, the back of her bikini top unfastened, her skin agleam with oil. Like Dawn, only younger and prettier. He imagined himself rubbing her back. It would be hot and slick in the sunlight.

He imagined himself pulling down the skimpy pants of her bikini. Rubbing her buttocks.

But then she turned over and she was naked, all right, but she was Sherry, not Brenda. Smiling, she said, “Hi there, dead boy. ”

Toby felt his scrotum shrivel, his penis shrink.

I’m not dead yet, you rotten bitch. Too bad I killed you deader than shit so you can’t watch what I do to your precious family.

He stepped up to the back door of the house and peered through its window.

On the other side was the kitchen.

He took the rubber gloves out of his back pocket and put them on. Powdered inside, they fit easily over his hands.

He tried the knob. It wouldn’t turn. He tugged it, but the door stayed shut. So he drew the screwdriver out of his shorts. With the butt of its handle, he punched the window. Glass broke and fell inside the house, shards clinking and clattering as they struck the floor.

“I’m such a klutz, ” he said. “Let me clean that up for you. ”

For a while, he stood motionless and listened.

He heard a gust of wind rushing through the nearby trees, heard the whop of flapping clothes, heard the distant sounds of an airliner and a lawnmower and a door thumping shut and even a bright, faraway laugh that sounded like a girl startled with delight.

But no sounds came from inside the house.

Or from the house next door.

Toby eased the screwdriver down the side of his shorts. Then he plucked a few large pieces of glass out of the window frame and set them down silently on the concrete at his feet. When the hole seemed large enough, he inserted his arm. Careful to keep away from the jagged edges, he reached down. He leaned against the door. Shoulder inside the broken window, glass tickling the hair of his armpit, he reached lower, felt around, and found the inside doorknob.

He caught the button between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a twist.

Then he carefully withdrew his arm.

Not a scratch.

He turned the outside knob, pulled the door open and stepped into the kitchen. After shutting the door, he stood motionless and listened to the house. He heard a quiet buzzing from the kitchen clock, the hum of the refrigerator, a few creaking sounds of the sort that houses often made, especially in strong winds.

Nobody home, he thought.

Can’t be sure of that.

Though the place felt deserted, Toby knew he’d better be careful.

Play it like they’re all home.

Who knows? he thought. Maybe they are all home. Car might be in for repairs.

They’re all home, he told himself, and somebody heard me break the glass.

He stepped quietly over to the wall phone, lifted off its handset, and heard a dial tone.

Nobody was calling the police.

And nobody’s gonna.

He tapped in a random set of seven numbers, got a busy signal, and lowered the handset to the floor.

Then he took off his sneakers.

He reached into his pocket for the pistol, but changed his mind and left the weapon where it was. Why wander around with a gun in his hand? It would just upset people…

Not that anyone’s here.

Besides, he could get it out in half a second if he needed it.

And he didn’t really want to shoot anyone. That’d be too noisy. Not much fun, either. The pistol was for emergency use only.

He pulled the knife out of his pocket and opened its blade.

Holding the knife behind his back, he walked through the kitchen. The tile floor was a little slippery under his crew socks. In the dining room, the carpet felt thick and soft.

He found nobody there.

Nor in the living room.

In the living room, on a lamp table next to an armchair, he found a telephone with an answering machine. On the machine, a red light blinked.

Someone had left a message.

Another clue that nobody was home.

But not proof. Some people didn’t like to play their messages. Himself, for instance. And Sid. It used to drive Dawn crazy. She’d whine, What’s the matter with you two?

To which Sid would say, I don’t happen to give a shit who called. Wasn’t you, right? You’re here. So who gives a rat’s ass?

Or something like that.

But that wasn’t the real reason. Toby didn’t think so, anyway. Because he had his own good reasons for hating telephone messages, unexpected calls, strangers showing up at the door, and even the daily arrival of the mail.

Any of them could mean that someone had found out.

It has recently come to our attention that your parents were deceased prior to the motor vehicle accident and fire that was previously believed to be the cause…

Toby went squirmy and cold inside.

Forget it, he told himself. It never happened and it’s never gonna happen…talk about water under the bridge!

He let out a laugh.

Great! What if somebody heard it?

Nobody heard it. Nobody’s home.

Maybe, maybe not.

Bounding up the stairs toward the second floor, he called out “Hello! Anybody home? This is the police! We’re evacuating the neighborhood! Fire’s on its way! Your house is right in the path! ”

No response.

He rushed from room to room. They were tidy and sunlit and deserted.

He returned to the upstairs hallway.

Nobody is home.

He felt relieved. He could relax. There would be no need for urgent action to save himself or take captives. But he felt disappointed, too.

As if the home had been a beautifully wrapped box—a gift. Expecting a wonderful surprise inside, he’d opened it and found it empty.

But it won’t be staying empty, he realized. This is where they live. Sooner or later, they’ll be coming back.

And I’ll be here waiting.

He entered Brenda’s bedroom. Like the master bedroom across the hall, its front two windows had a view of the street. He stepped over to one of them and looked down.

This’ll be great, he thought. I’ll know when they show up.

From where he stood, however, he could also see into the upstairs windows of the house across the street.

Though he saw nobody, he realized that he could be seen from over there if anyone happened to look.

He took two quick backward steps.

I’ll just look out if I hear something.

“In the meantime, ” he whispered.

He turned in a circle, giving the room a quick inspection: desk, bed, bookshelves, closet, dresser…

He smiled.

& n

bsp; “Ah, yes, ” he said.

He folded his knife, dropped it into his pocket, then wandered over to the dresser. He opened a few drawers until he found Brenda’s bras and panties.

“Here we go. ”

One at a time, he lifted the garments out. He held them open and tried to imagine Brenda wearing them. The white, flimsy bra and nothing else. The skimpy pink cotton briefs and nothing else. The black lace bra and nothing else. He caressed his face with them. He sniffed them. They all seemed freshly laundered.

Leaving the dresser, he went to the clothes hamper. He opened its top.

Yes!

Bending down, he reached inside and picked up a pair of panties.

Chapter Forty-seven

With his spatula, Pete flipped the sandwiches. Their buttered tops hit the skillet and sizzled.

“Man, they smell great, ” Jeff said.

“Yeah. ”

“Don’ let ’em burn. ”

“I don’t plan to. ” He pressed each of them down with the spatula. “Gotta wait for the cheese to melt. ”

“Just don’ burn ’em. ”

“I’m not gonna burn ’em. ”

“You all set with the plan? ” Jeff asked.

“I don’t know. It’s a pretty stupid plan. ”

“It’s only stupid if it don’ work. You wanna nail the bastard, don’ you? ”

“I guess so. ”

“You only guess? ”

“I wanta nail him. ”

“My man. ”

Rich yellow cheese leaked out the side of one sandwich, rolled down a narrow crust and puddled on the skillet. It bubbled and turned brown around the edges.

“Plate, ” Pete said.

As Jeff reached a large plate toward him, Pete knifed his spatula under the nearest sandwich and lifted it off the skillet. In seconds, all three were safe aboard the plate. Pete turned off the burner. Then he hefted the skillet, carried it to the sink and propped it under the faucet. He turned the water on. Hitting the hot iron surface, the water sizzled and steamed. He shut the faucet off. “Let’s go, ” he said.

“You’re gonna play along, right? ”

“Sure. Right. ”

Jeff leading the way with the plate of sandwiches, they hurried outside.

Sherry nodded to them. She still sat in her chair by the table.

The radio was still on the table where they’d left it.

“Sorry it took so long, ” Pete said. He saw that she had finished her drink. “Can I get you a refill? ”

“I don’t think so. Thanks. ”

Jeff stepped in front of her and held out the plate. “Here y’go, ” he said.

Sherry picked up one of the sandwiches. “Looks good, ” she said.

Jeff eased the plate down onto the table.

“Get you something else to drink? ” Pete asked. “A Pepsi or a beer or something? ”

“No thanks. Sit down, you guys. ”

Jeff took a sandwich, picked up his Bloody Mary, and sat in his chair.

As Pete took the last sandwich and reached for his own drink, he realized he could hear the radio. But just barely. Though someone seemed to be speaking, he couldn’t make out any words.

More than likely, neither could Sherry.

Maybe it’ll work.

He sat down and took a swallow of his Bloody Mary.

“You heard the news, ” Jeff said. He sounded as if she must’ve heard it.

Chewing, Sherry shook her head.

“No? ” Jeff sounded surprised. “It was on the radio. We heard it in the kitchen. ”

She shook her head some more.

“They caught ’m, ” Jeff explained. “Toby. The cops picked ’m up about half an hour ago. ”

She stopped chewing.

“Ran a red light. The cops, they went t’pull him over, but he took off ’n then they had one a those high-speed chases till he got stuck in traffic. Then he bailed out, only he din get very far. ”

Sherry looked at Pete as if seeking confirmation.

He nodded, felt rotten, and took a bite of his sandwich. The grilled bread crunched. The cheese inside was soft and hot and tangy.

“Anyway, ” Jeff continued, “he was all bloody when they god’m. They found a bloody knife in his car. Next thing y’know, they busted him for the killings. The ones last night. ”

“How’d they know it was him? ” Sherry asked.

“He musta said something, ” Jeff said. Shrugging, he looked at Pete.

“I’m not sure they told how. ”

“Fuckin’ reporters, ” Jeff muttered.

“Cops don’t always tell ’em everything, ” Pete said.

“But they busted his ass, all right, ” Jeff said.

Pete nodded.

“And you’re sure it was Toby? ” Sherry asked.

“Thas what they said, ” Jeff told her.

“Toby Bones? ”

It worked!

Pete’s heart slammed.

“Bones? ” Jeff asked. “I thought they said Jones. ”

“Bones, ” Sherry said. “With a B. ”

“Ah. Well, that was him. They god’m, all right. ”

“My God, ” Sherry murmured. Tears shimmered in her eyes. Her chin began to shake. As tears spilled down her cheeks, she lowered her hands. Wrists resting on her thighs, she held the glass and sandwich between her legs as she wept.

How could we do this to her? She’ll hate us!

Not if she doesn’t find out, Pete told himself.

How’s she not gonna find out? I must’ve been nuts to go along with this!

After a while, Sherry calmed down. She sniffed a few times. With the back of her sandwich hand, she gently wiped the tears from her face. Then she exhaled loudly. “I can’t believe it, ” she said.

You shouldn’t.

“It’s all over? ”

“All over, ” Jeff told her.

“God. ” She sniffed again. “That’s…great. ”

“You’ll problee hafta testify ’n shit, ” Jeff threw in.

“Yeah. Sure will. God. ”

“Would you like another drink now? ” Pete asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. ”

Pete stood up. Leaning toward the table, he set down his glass and sandwich.

“Turn it up, okay? ” Sherry said.

“Sure. ” He raised the radio’s volume.

A commercial for Taco Bell.

He took Sherry’s glass and hurried into the house. In the kitchen, he quickly made her a fresh Bloody Mary. Then he pulled out a drawer near the wall phone and hauled out the telephone directory.

He flipped through its pages.

Did she say Bones? Weird name, Toby Bones.

Spelled like body bones?

Goddamn dirty rotten trick.

Hard to believe it really worked.

Pete wondered if the booze had helped loosen her tongue.

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