Come Out Tonight 21 страница

“I thought we were good friends. ”

“Yeah, well. So maybe you were wrong. You’re not always right. I know you think you’re always right, but you’re not. You think you’re so perfect and everybody else is some sort of worthless loser. ”

“Most people are, ” Brenda said. “But I didn’t think you were. ”

“Oh girls, girls, girls, ” said Toby, grinning and shaking his head.

“Baxter wasn’t a loser, ” Brenda muttered. Then she said very softly, “Good old Baxter. ” And Toby saw her start to weep.

He turned to Fran and pointed the pistol at her forehead. “Go over and get the knife. ”

“But…”

“Or do you want me to put a slug through your ugly face? ”

She pushed out her lower lip as her chin began to tremble.

“Who knows? ” said Toby. “Maybe Brenda won’t slash your throat. ”

As Fran struggled to her feet, she said, “You won’t let her, will you? �

� �

“Why not? ”

“Because. Because I warned you. I told you she had it. If I’d kept my mouth shut, she might’ve killed you. I saved your life. ”

“Yeah, maybe so. Thanks. ”

“So you like owe me. Right? ”

“Sure. I tell you what, Fran. You go over and take the knife away, and I’ll let you leave. ”

“Really? ”

“Sure he will, ” said Brenda.

“You shut up, ” she snapped. “You don’t know everything. ”

“I promise to let you go, ” Toby told her.

“Reality check, ” said Brenda. “You’re an eyewitness, Fran. You aren’t going anywhere. Not alive, anyway. Not if he has any say in it. ”

Toby walked up to Fran and pushed the muzzle of the pistol against the tip of her nose. “Go get the knife. ”

“Okay. ”

He lowered the weapon and moved aside. Fran wiped her eyes, then stepped past him. He watched the fat, dimpled cheeks of her buttocks wobble and shake as she walked toward Brenda.

“Now that’s a lard-ass, ” he said.

She glanced back at him, a pouty look on her face. Then she stopped in front of Brenda’s feet. She held out her hand. “Just give it to me. ”

“I don’t have it. ”

“Yes, you do. I know you do. ”

“Where’d you say it is? ” Toby asked.

“Under her back. ”

“Well, reach under and grab it. ”

She started to squat.

“You’re blocking my view. ”

“Sorry. ” She straightened up and stepped around to Brenda’s other side. “Here? ” she asked Toby.

“Perfect. ”

She knelt down close to Brenda’s hip. Resting her hands on her own thighs, she frowned and said, “Roll over. ”

Brenda latched her eyes on Fran. A corner of her mouth twitched slightly, but she didn’t roll over. “Don’t think so, ” she said.

“Please. ”

“I would’ve had him, Fran. I would’ve had him. But you had to open your big mouth. ”

“He was gonna shoot me. ”

“You didn’t have to tell him about the knife. It was our only chance. ”

“Not much of a chance, ” Toby said. “Knife versus gun? I don’t think so. ”

Brenda looked at him. “You feel that way, just let me keep it. ”

“Take it, Fran. ”

“Roll over, ” Fran said.

“Make me. ”

Fran jutted out her trembling chin. “You better not try something. ”

“Do it! ” Toby snapped.

“I’ll just reach under, ” Fran explained. She placed her left hand on Brenda’s hip, then bent lower and started to shove her right hand into the crevice between Brenda’s back and the floor.

Brenda sat up fast.

Her elbow smashed against Fran’s face.

“YES! ” Toby cried out.

Fran tumbled backward off her knees, blood rushing from her crushed nose. Her naked back slapped the floor, followed a moment later by the thonk of her head. Followed by the quick toot of a fart.

Toby laughed.

Brenda, twisting her torso, let fly with the knife.

It flipped end over end toward Toby.

He took quick aim. Just as the knife struck him in the forehead, he fired.

Chapter Sixty

The noise of the gunshot blasted Brenda’s ears and she felt a strange, quick stir in the air by her cheek. Even as she realized the bullet must’ve missed her, Jack’s head jerked backward from the impact of the knife.

It had struck him, handle first, in the middle of the forehead, then bounced off.

He still held out the pistol as if he hoped to fire again, but now it seemed to be pointing way too high and he was taking a wobbly step away.

He took just the one step. Then he fell backward onto the carpeted hallway. Brenda felt the floor shake. His head bounced. The pistol hopped out of his hand and scooted over the carpet, stopping almost a yard beyond his curled fingers.

She had lost track of the knife after it caromed off his brow.

She looked around quickly for it, but couldn’t see it.

Maybe it had fallen out of sight behind one of the bodies.

Better to have the gun, anyway, she thought.

Get it and I’ll be fine.

She would need to make her way past Jack, but he seemed to be out cold.

How long’s that gonna last? she wondered.

The sound of a groan sent a gust of fear through her belly, but then she realized it had come from Fran, not Jack.

The girl was sprawled on her back, her knees in the air, both hands holding her face.

God, I did that to her.

It made Brenda feel sick.

Why didn’t I just push her away? I didn’t have to hurt her.

Worry about it later, Brenda told herself. She went against me and I had to hurt her and now she’s useless and I have to get the gun before Jack wakes up.

Brenda clenched her teeth, put her weight on her straight left arm, turned her body and rose onto her left knee. Shuddering and sweating, she held herself up with both hands on the cool marble floor.

This doesn’t feel too good, she thought.

The pain from her gunshot right leg seemed to be everywhere.

Screw it, she thought. Screw the pain. Get the gun and worry about it later.

Letting her wounded leg slide along behind her, she crawled toward Jack on her hands and one knee.

He seemed very far away.

This is so awfully jolly.

It didn’t seem that it should be so difficult to crawl a few yards on one knee. She wondered if she should try to stand up.

Just what I’d need, she thought. Get way up there on one foot and hop along and fall. I sure don’t need to fall again. I’ve had enough of that.

This’ll be fine, she told herself. I’m getting there, I’m getting there.

But her whole body was trembling form the effort and the pain. Sweat seemed to be pouring out of her, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision, sliding down her body like run-off in a storm, dripping from her ear lobes and the tip of her nose and her chin and her breasts. It ran down her arms and made her hands wet.

Once, her right hand slipped on the marble and plained forward and she bashed her elbow hard on the floor and cried out.

Braced up on her elbow and knee, she wiped her right hand on the T-shirt bandage around her thigh. But she couldn’t think of a way to dry her left hand.

I’m almost to the carpet. Then I’ll be all right. It’ll be good and dry…

She would have the carpet for traction, but she would also have Jack beside her.

Hope he isn’t faking.

She pushed herself up. The marble felt cool and dry under her right hand, but slick under her left.

Be careful, she told herself, and resumed crawling.

Blinking because of the sweat in her eyes, she watched Jack. He lay sprawled on his back, shoes big on his feet, his bare legs straight out and apart. His penis, rooted in a nest of curly brown hair, drooped sideways against his left thigh. It looked small and soft, not at all like the big, stout shaft it had been a while ago.

He can’t hurt me with that thing, Brenda thought.

Not unless it gets big again.

She suddenly thought about Quentin shoving his into Fran and how Fran had cried out in pain, then wept and begged him to stop, but then how later she’d been embracing him, moaning, moving her own hips to meet his thrusts almost as if she’d liked it.

How could she like it?

It’s supposed to hurt like crazy when it’s your first time and that had been Fran’s first time unless she’d been lying and unless the blood afterward had been for a different reason. And you’re never supposed to like it when they rape you. You’re supposed to hate that, no matter what it might feel like.

But Fran had been fond of Quentin before. She’d thought he was cute and she’d admitted to daydreams about being with him. So maybe it makes a difference if you like the guy.

Or maybe she just lost her damn mind.

I sure wouldn’t want a thing like that getting stuck into me, Brenda thought. If that’s what it takes to make babies, I’ll pass, thank you very much.

Her hand came down on the good dry mat of carpet a few inches from Jack’s right foot.

Now I’ll be fine, she thought. Long as he doesn’t wake up.

The broad, low hill of his belly was rising and falling slightly as he breathed. His head was turned sideways, his mouth drooping open, his eyes shut. In the center of his forehead was a shiny red dome as if half a pingpong ball had been shoved underneath his skin.

I got him good, she thought. He’s out like a light.

Doesn’t mean he’ll stay that way.

But Brenda was making quicker progress now that she had the carpet under her.

I’m gonna make it!

Unless he wakes up in the next few seconds.

He isn’t going to wake up in time because I got him good with the knife and he’s out cold and this isn’t some crappy movie where the bad guy always grabs the gal just at the last second.

Besides, she could see his eyeballs shifting back and forth under the lids.

He’s still out, and I’ve made it.

The pistol, now, was almost within reach.

If he wakes up, dive for it.

It was Sherry’s pistol, all right—or at least the same kind of pistol.

What’d he do to Sherry?

Soon as he wakes up. I’ll make him talk.

Slide forward, hammer back, the pistol looked loaded and cocked and ready to fire.

Don’t kill Jack unless you have to.

Bracing herself up on her left knee and right hand, she leaned forward and reached for the pistol and squealed with alarm and pain and despair when her right ankle was grabbed and jerked. Pain smashed through her body. She fell onto her side—onto Jack’s arm and shoulder and face.

He’s still down!

She twisted herself over.

Fran was hunkered low, both hands wrapped around Brenda’s ankle, lumbering backward, dragging her.

“What’re you doing! ”

Fran didn’t answer, didn’t look up, just kept waddling backward, her breasts hanging toward the floor and swinging from side to side as she towed Brenda by the ankle.

“Let go, you idiot! ”

“Fuck you, ” Fran grunted.

“What’s the matter with you? ”

“You. You’re the matter. ”

Carpet no longer under her body, Brenda slid along on the cool marble floor.

“He’s gonna wake up! ”

“Good. ” Fran flung Brenda’s foot straight down at the floor. Her shoe absorbed some of the impact, but pain exploded from her wound. Wracked with agony, she flinched rigid, arching her back, shoving her belly into the air.

Fran straddled her and dropped, buttocks slapping against her belly, driving her down, mashing her.

Brenda felt as if she’d been caved in. She fought for a breath but made squeaking sounds and seemed to get no air.

“How ya like it? ” Fran asked. Cords of wet hair clung to her bloody, sweaty face.

Brenda had no breath for answering.

“Who’s the loser now, huh? Huh? ” Her open hand smacked Brenda hard across the face. “How about a quip? How about a snappy rejoinder? ” She slapped Brenda again. “Who’s on top, now? ”

She clutched Brenda’s breasts.

“What d’ya call these, huh? They’re nothing! You got tits like a guy. A skinny guy. You got no tits at all, you emaciated fucking twerp! And everybody calls me fat! I’m fat and ugly and worthless and you’re some sorta stunning beauty for godsake but you look like a fucking guy! But all the guys want you and I’m some sort of ugly fucking cow they don’t wanta touch with a ten-foot pole. They don’t wanta kiss me and nobody’s ever gonna fall in love with a cow like me and the one time I get lucky maybe for the only time in my whole stinking life, you go and kill him. ”

She pinched Brenda’s nipples and twisted them hard.

Brenda jerked stiff and cried out and was surprised to find that she could cry out.

Could breathe again, though not very well.

“Stop it, ” she gasped. “Please. ”

“You killed him. ”

“He raped you! ”

“So what! ” She let go of Brenda’s left nipple and smacked her across the face again. “You killed him and you were gonna let Jack kill me so you could keep the fucking knife. ”

“He’s out cold, Fran. We can take him! We can survive this but you’ve gotta get off me. ”

“Who wants to survive? ” asked Fran.

“I do. ”

“Well, you aren’t gonna! ”

“She happens to be right, ” said Jack.

Brenda went cold inside. “Now you’ve done it, ” she muttered.

Fran’s bloody face grinned down at her. “Good, ” she said.

“Don’t let me stop the fun and games, ” said Jack. “Both of you stay where you are. Fran, let’s see you hurt her some more. ”

Chapter Sixty-one

“It has to be around here someplace, ” Sherry said, slowing as they neared the Speed-D-Mart. “This is where Duane’s van was parked last night. Toby switched over to it, so he must’ve parked his car fairly close to here. ”

“What kind of car? ” Pete asked.

“A blue Mustang. ”

Sherry turned right onto Airdrome.

“Like that one? ” Jeff asked.

“Where? ”

“Other side of the street. Near the corner. ”

Sherry leaned closer to the steering wheel and turned her head to the left. “Looks like it, ” she said. She drove past the Mustang, then made a U-turn and pulled to the curb behind it. She shut off the engine. Bending down, shoulder against the wheel, she reached to the floor. She came up with the Club. “Mind if I borrow this for a minute? ” she asked.

“Help yourself. ”

She pulled at the steering wheel locking device, lengthening it until the two steel bars came apart in the middle. She set the smaller piece down on the floor and kept the other. “Both of you wait here, okay? Pete, why don’t you get behind the wheel? Pull on ahead of Toby’s car and wait. And keep your eyes open. If any cops come along, just drive on as if you don’t have anything to do with me. ”

“Sure, ” Pete said. “Just leave you. ”

“I mean it. I don’t want you guys getting busted for any of this. ”

“We aren’t gonna ditch you, ” Jeff said.

“For all I know, ” Sherry explained, “the car isn’t even locked. But it probably is, and Toby said it has an alarm. If it does, busting the window’ll trigger it. Might get real noisy around here. But nobody pays much attention to car alarms. And cops…the only way they’ll show up is if they happen to be passing by. So I don’t think there will be any trouble. If there is, though, take off without me. Maybe drive around the block, keep an eye on things from a distance. ”

“Let’s see if the coast is clear before you go busting in, ” Pete suggested. “We can at least make sure there aren’t cops at the Speed-D-Mart. ”

“Cops are always at Speed-D-Marts, ” Jeff added.

“Not always, ” Pete said. “Anyway, when I pull forward I’ll have a good angle on the parking lot. I’ll honk if I see any cop cars. ”

“Good deal, ” Sherry said. She smiled at Pete, gave him a pat on the thigh, then said, “Be careful, you guys, ” and climbed out of the car.

She left the driver’s door open. As she walked toward the Mustang, Pete hurried around the front, scurried in and shut the door. He started the engine.

Limping, Sherry walked slowly alongside the Mustang. She looked straight ahead as if not at all interested in the car. At its front, she hobbled toward the curb.

Pete drove slowly by. As he neared the corner, more and more of the Speed-D-Mart parking lot slid into view. There were about a dozen vehicles in the small lot, a couple of them trying to exit. Several people milled about, including customers on their way to the entrance and a beggar waiting in ambush. A big white delivery truck was turning in from Robertson Boulevard.

Pete saw no police cars.

“Looks good, ” he said, and eased over to the curb.

“Looks great, ” Jeff agreed. “I don’t even see any rent-a-cop cars. ”

“We’d better keep an eye on the intersection. ”

“You keep an eye on it. I got better stuff to watch. ”

Pete glanced over his shoulder. Jeff was twisted around on the back seat, staring out the rear window.

“Check her out, dude. ”

Facing forward, Pete gave the intersection a quick scan. Then he turned his attention to the right side mirror. It gave him a small but clear reflection of Sherry by the passenger side of the Mustang.

She bent and peered through the window, then straightened up. Keeping the steel bar low by her side, she looked toward Pete’s car. The wind was blowing in her face, sweeping her short hair backward, flapping and filling her mostly unbuttoned shirt. Inside the gawdy shirt, she seemed to be wearing more bandages than swimsuit. The skimpy top was black against her tanned skin, the bandages white as rainless clouds. Lower, a patch of white on her thigh was larger than the black triangle of pants between her legs.

She nodded toward their car, then turned around slowly as if scanning the entire area.

“If she’s trying to be inconspicuous, ” Jeff said, “she’s failing miserably. ”

“Yeah. ”

“God, look at her. ”

“I know. ”

“And just think, she’s with us. ”

“Hard to believe, ” Pete admitted.

“And she likes us. ”

“Yeah. ”

“Wow. ”

“Yeah. ”

“We might never have another day like this one, good buddy. Hope you’re taking notes. ”

“I’ll take notes later. Wouldn’t wanta miss a single—”

“There she goes. ”

Sherry’s image in the side mirror bent over and swung the bar, smashing the Mustang’s passenger window. The noise of the alarm made Pete shrivel inside. Sherry reached through the broken window. A moment later, the door swung open.

Pete forced his eyes away from the mirror.

He scanned the traffic for police cars.

So far, so good. But all it’ll take is one.

He look

ed across the street at the Speed-D-Mart’s parking lot. People wandered about, but nobody seemed to pay any attention to the alarm.

“Shit shit shit, ” Jeff said.

“What? ”

“Why doesn’t she hurry? ”

“We’re okay so far. ”

Returning his eyes to the side mirror, Pete saw that the Mustang’s door was shut. “Where is she? ”

“Inside. She’s in the passenger seat. ”

“Good idea. ”

The door suddenly swung open. Sherry climbed out. She stood up, a purse now hanging at her hip, a paper in her right hand. She stepped past the door. With her bare left foot, she shoved it shut. Then she made her slow, limping way to the sidewalk.

“God, she’s taking her time! ”

“Maybe she can’t move any faster, ” Pete said. “A few hours ago, she could hardly move at all. ”

“Shit, yeah. We thought she was dead. ”

“Nice recovery, huh? ”

“Man, I sure hope we get to see her when she’s really recovered. Preferably naked. ”

“In your dreams, ” Pete said.

“Yours too, good buddy. ”

Pete leaned over the passenger seat and shoved the door open for her.

A few seconds later, Sherry ducked through the doorway and eased herself down in the seat. “Let’s go, ” she said, pulling the door shut.

Pete checked the traffic, then stepped on the gas.

He reached Robertson, stopped for a moment because of the red light, then turned right. As he picked up speed, the beeping of Toby’s car alarm faded and died out.

“By George, ” said Jeff, “I do think we made it. ”

Pete turned his head and grinned at Sherry. “Did you find the address? ”

“You bet. And my purse. ”

“Great. ”

She held open the registration slip and studied it. “Okay, ” she said. “The car’s owned by Sidney Bones, Four Eight Nine Two Shawcross Lane. ”

“Where the hell is that? ” Jeff asked.

“Up in the hills, ” Sherry said. “It’s a few miles from a school where I’ve done a lot subbing…Toby’s school. ”

“You know how to find it? ”

“I think so. I’m pretty sure I ran into Shawcross last year when I was trying to find a faculty party. It’s up there someplace. I know I’ve seen it. Might take a little hunting…”

“That’s what we’re here for, ” said Jeff.

Chapter Sixty-two

“Okay, ” Toby said. “That’s enough. ”

Fran, grunting and groaning as she worked on Brenda, ignored him.

“Stop it, ” Toby commanded.

She gave Brenda a last quick slap, then crawled off her. She lowered herself onto the floor and rolled onto her back, huffing for air.

Brenda, spread-eagled, wet all over, sobbed and writhed as she struggled to breathe.

“Having fun yet? ” Toby asked her.

She didn’t answer.

“I know I am. I haven’t had this much fun since…last night with Sherry. And I haven’t even touched you yet. This is gonna be great. ”

Fran braced herself up with her elbows. “What’ll you…do with her? ”

“What do you think? ”

“I’ll…help. ”

“Bet you will. ”

“Just…name it. ”

“Sure, ” he muttered. He supposed Fran would probably do anything he asked of her. She had nothing to lose, after all. And she obviously held some very strong, strange feelings about Brenda—a wild mixture of envy and hatred and desire. She’d seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on her so-called friend.

I can use her, Toby thought, but I’d better watch out. No telling what she might try.

“I want Brenda in the bedroom, ” he said.

“Okay. ” After struggling to her feet, Fran scowled down at Brenda. “How’m I spose to—? ”

“Pick her up, drag her, I don’t care. Just—”

Someone knocked hard on the front door. Toby jumped. His heart lurched and he felt as if his breath had been knocked out.

From the other side of the door came a loud voice. “This is the police. Please open the door. ” More pounding.

Fran darted her eyes toward the door.

Toby aimed the pistol at her face.

Brenda, squirming on the floor, seemed wrapped up in her own misery.

The doorbell rang several times quickly. Then came more knocking. “I know someone’s in there, ” the police officer said. “Please open the door. We’re evacuating…”

Toby stepped up to the door, opened it and shoved his pistol into the cop’s face and pulled the trigger. The bullet socked a hole through the bridge of the man’s nose.

Before the cop had time to fall, Toby reached out and grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him forward. The threshold stopped his feet. Toby scampered aside as the cop toppled into the foyer. A moment after he slammed face first against the marble floor, Toby hopped over him.

Leaning out the doorway, he looked around.

The air smelled like a campfire. It was yellow with blowing smoke, snowy with gray ashes.

Toby saw no flames, though.

Nor did he see any other cops.

There gotta be more around, he thought.

Who gives a hot shit? Any more show up. I’ll blow their fucking faces off.

He shoved the dead cop’s feet clear of the doorway, then shut the door and locked it.

Brenda remained on her back, still sweaty and writhing and out of breath, a wounded and beaten and beautiful naked female surrounded by three dead guys.

Fran stood over Brenda’s feet, gazing down at the dead cop.

“Grab her, ” Toby said. Not waiting for Fran to respond, he crouched over the cop. Holstered at the man’s side was a pistol that looked larger than the one Toby had been using.

Anyway, he thought, mine’s gotta be low on ammo.

He set Sherry’s pistol on the floor, unsnapped the cop’s holster strap, and removed the weapon. It was a boxy-looking thing.

He supposed it must be fully loaded and ready for action. But did it have a safety on?

He pointed it at Fran.

“No! ” she squealed, turning her back, hunching over and hugging her head like a kid afraid of a snowball.

“Take her in the bedroom, ” Toby said.

Whimpering, Fran straddled Brenda and bent down and grabbed her arms.

Toby swung the pistol toward Quen, aimed at the dead boy’s head, and pulled the trigger. The pistol fired, bucking in his hand, its blast slapping his ears. The slug missed Quen and hit the marble by his head, throwing dust and chips into the air.

“Cool, ” Toby muttered.

This was a better gun than Sherry’s—bigger and more powerful.

With Brenda in a sitting position, Fran scurried around behind her, squatted and reached under her armpits. She wrapped her arms around Brenda’s chest and struggled to lift her. “Stand up, ” she gasped. “Come on. ” She tugged. “Get up or he’ll kill us. ”

Brenda made no effort to stand.

Fran couldn’t lift her.

“Shit, ” Toby muttered. “Wait a second. ”

He picked up the smaller weapon he’d taken from Sherry. Now that he had the cop’s gun, he no longer needed it. He certainly didn’t want to drag it around with him. But he didn’t want to leave behind a weapon that someone might use on him. So he studied the pistol, worked a lever that didn’t seem to do anything, then pressed a button that released the ammo magazine. He slid the magazine out of the pistol’s handle and looked at it. It seemed to have only one round in it.

He worked the cartridge loose and hurled it into the living room. A moment after it vanished in the shadows, he heard it thunk against a wall.

He gave the empty magazine a toss. It landed on the newspapers that he’d spread over the carpet to hide the bloody mess left behind by Sid.

Then he dropped Sherry’s pistol. With the cop’s weapon in his right hand, he stepped toward the girls.

“You take that side, ” he instructed Fran. “I’ll take this. ”

Keeping the cop’s pistol in his right hand, he crouched and used his left hand to grab Brenda’s upper arm. He clutched it just below the armpit. The skin was hot and wet and slippery. “Okay, lift, ” he said.

Together, they hoisted her off the floor.

It was easier than Toby had expected. Brenda seemed to be helping, pushing at the floor with her good leg—maybe afraid of being dropped.

Starting to move, Fran tripped over Baxter. As she stumbled, they all lurched sideways and Toby almost lost his grip on Brenda. But Fran recovered. Nobody fell. Toby adjusted his grip.

“Watch where you’re going, ” he warned.

“Sorry, ” Fran said.

Leaving the foyer behind, they started up the carpeted hallway toward Toby’s bedroom.

“What about the fire? ” Fran asked.

“What about it? ”

“It’s coming, isn’t it? ”

“Maybe. ”

“I mean, isn’t that what the cop was about? ”

“Guess so. Who cares? ”

“I don’t wanta get burned up. ”

“Soon as Brenda’s on my bed, you can leave. ”

“Really? ”

“Sure. ”

“What about you? ”

“I’ll be okay. ”

“Not if the fire comes. ”

“Screw the fire. I give a shit. It burns me, it burns me. I’ve had it, anyhow. All I wanta do is have my fun with Brenda before it gets me. ”

“It doesn’t have to get you. Why don’t we leave? Why don’t we leave right now? Just you and me. When the fire gets here, it’ll burn up all the bodies and evidence and everything, nobody’ll ever know you did all this stuff. ”

“You’ll know, ” Toby said.

“I’ll never tell. ”

“Sure. ”

At his bedroom doorway, they halted. They turned Brenda sideways and Toby entered first.

“I won’t, ” Fran insisted.

Toby said nothing as they hustled Brenda over to his bed. There, they turned her around. They sat her on the edge of the mattress, then eased her down onto her back. Her legs hung over the edge, shoes on the floor.

Toby stepped away. “Take her shoes off, ” he said. “Then put her legs on the bed. ”

& nbs

p; Fran squatted in front of Brenda’s knees. As she pulled off the shoes, she said, “Know what? I just thought of something, Jack. A wife can’t testify against her husband. All we’d have to do is get married…”

“That’s an idea, ” Toby said.

She cast a nervous smile over her shoulder.

“I’d make you a really good wife, ” she said. “I’d do anything for you, and I’d never tell on you. I wouldn’t be allowed, even if I wanted to. ” She straightened up, lifting Brenda’s bare feet, and swung her legs onto the mattress.

“Thanks, ” Toby said.

“What do you think? ”

“I’d rather be dead than married to an ugly fat load of shit like you. ”

She thrust out her lower lip. Her chin started to tremble.

“Even if I wanted to marry you, we’re too young. ”

“Maybe not if our parents…”

“My parents are toes-up, babe. I made ’em that way. Me and my asshole brother, Sid. They ain’t gonna give permission for shit. ”

“You killed your parents? ”

“They were a pain in the ass. And rich. ”

Sobbing, Fran blubbered, “But we can still get married. We can…go away someplace. Another state, or…”

“Besides which, ” Toby said, “you’ve got it wrong about wives. In this state, they can testify against their husbands. Can’t be forced to do it, but they can do it if they want. ”

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