After Midnight (43 page)

My memory flashed an image of Murphy, also dead in a tub.
Rub-a-dub dub, two men in a tub…

Unlike Murphy, Elroy had his clothes on. And he wasn’t sitting sideways in the tub, feet sticking out. He probably
had
been crooked, since he’d fallen from a standing position in front of the toilet. But now he was stretched out on his back, feet toward the drain. His penis was hanging out the open fly of his trousers. His blood-soaked shirt was still tucked in, and his bow-tie, no longer blue, was still in place at the throat of his shirt. Above the bow-tie, he had a ragged stump of neck.

“You want me to pick him up?” Steve asked.

“That’s the idea.”

“And do what with him?”

“Get him out of the house, for starters.”

“He’s bound to drip, you know.”

“Run the shower on him,” I said. “That’ll get the worst of the blood off.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am.” Steve stepped to the foot of the tub, started the shower spraying down onto Elroy, then slid the plastic curtain shut.

“We need something to put him in,” I said.

“A couple of plastic garbage bags should do the trick.”

“Those’d be out in the garage.”

“No problem.”

“Yeah, it’s a problem,” I said. “I’m not taking you all the way out there just to get some garbage bags.”

“Afraid I’ll make a
break for it
?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, we could get a sandwich baggie from the kitchen and put it on his stump.”

“Very funny,” I said. But his suggestion made me realize that, if the shower did its job, we really didn’t need to worry about blood from anywhere except Elroy’s neck.

So we marched back to the kitchen. I instructed Steve where to look, and he found Serena’s roll of cellophane wrap in the cupboard underneath the sink.

We returned to the bathroom.

While I held the saber and my end of the cord, Steve shut off the shower. He slid open the curtain, stepped into the tub, and got to work on Elroy.

First, he raised the body to a sitting position. Then he removed Elroy’s bow-tie and opened the top two buttons of his shirt. After that, he tore off a foot-long section of plastic wrap and draped it over Elroy’s neck stump. He squeezed it down firmly so it clung to the raw stuff inside. Finally, he tucked the edges of the cellophane underneath Elroy’s shirt collar to hold the wrapping snug.

“That should do the trick,” he said.

“I think so,” I agreed.

The shower had done a fine job cleaning the blood off Elroy and his clothes. The white shirt was badly stained, but it wouldn’t be dripping blood on the way out. With the neck stump secure, he was ready to move.

“Okay,” I said. “Now pick him up and let’s get him out of the house.”

Steve looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to lend a hand?”

“No.”

“But you’re so
good
at body handling.”

“I’ve retired,” I said. “You killed him, you carry him.”

“What a sweetheart.”

“That’s me. Let’s get going.”

Squatting behind Elroy’s back, he reached beneath the arms, hugged him around the chest, and lifted.

As Steve hauled Elroy out of the tub, I backed away, giving him plenty of slack with the electric cord. Then I waited while he struggled to find the best way to carry the body. He ended up cradling Elroy in his arms the way you see guys carry their brides over the threshold in movies.

“Ready?” I asked.

“All set,” he said. “You ready, Elroy?”

“Cut out the funny stuff,” I said. “He was a nice guy.”

“Give me a break. He was a pain in the ass. You couldn’t stand him.”

“Maybe so, but you shouldn’t have killed him.”

Smirking, he said, “You made me do it. I would chop the heads off an
army
to get my hands on you.”

“Go to hell,” I said.

Then I led us out of the bathroom. “We’ll take him out the front door,” I said, turning and moving backward for the foyer. As I walked, I watched Elroy. He dripped onto the carpet, but only water—so far as I could tell. The cellophane on his neck seemed to be working fine. “We’ll put him in his car and drive him to the woods.”

“Now,
that’s
a good idea. I was afraid you might make me walk.”

“Can’t leave his car here, anyway. We’ll park it at the picnic area, and you can carry him the rest of the way to the camp.”

I opened the front door, glanced outside to make sure the coast was clear, then stepped out of the way. Turning sideways, Steve carried Elroy past me. I left the door open (since I had no keys on me) and followed them across the lawn to the driveway.

“You’d better put him in the trunk,” I said.

Nodding, Steve trudged to the rear of Elroy’s car. “How do we unlock it?” he asked.

“Use his keys,” I suggested. “They’re probably in a pocket of his pants.”

“How about coming over here and finding them for me?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Do I look that stupid?”

“I won’t try anything,” he said.

“I’m sure I believe you. Just put him down and get the keys yourself.”

He started to crouch, then apparently changed his mind. Instead of lowering Elroy onto the driveway, he eased the body down on the trunk of the car. Then he patted both front pockets of the trousers. I heard keys jingle.

The body started to slip, so Steve halted it with one hand. Holding it still, he shoved his other hand into the right front pocket. A moment later, he came out with a key case.

He tossed it to me and said, “Catch.”

It sailed toward my left shoulder.

In my left hand, I held the end of the cord that led to his ankle.

I clutched the cord more tightly, and didn’t go for the keys.

The leather case smacked me below my left shoulder, slid down my breast and fell to the grass.

“Nice catch,” he said.

“Nice try,” I told him.

He laughed softly. Then he said, “I know it’s asking a lot, but if I pick up your friend and move out of the way, would you be kind enough to unlock the trunk for us?”

“No.”

“Please? Pretty please with sugar?”

“Which hand do you want me to use for the keys?” I asked. “The one with the saber in it, or the one with the cord in it?”

“Either would be fine,” he said.

“I’m sure.”

“You know what? I’ve got a terrific idea. Why don’t we simply dispense with the cord altogether? In fact, why not forget this entire
captive
routine and work as a team?”

“You’re dreaming.”

“Let’s be partners from now on. How about it? It would make life so much easier for both of us if we start working together instead of fighting each other.”

“Only one problem with that,” I said. “I’d turn up raped and dead.”

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t hurt my partner.”

“Forget about it. Come over here and pick up the keys.” I gave the cord a couple of quick tugs.

“Okay, okay.” Leaving Elroy on the car’s trunk, Steve came toward me. I backed away. “I know you want me,” he said. “You should’ve seen the look on your face last night when I was up against the door.
You
wanted to be the door. Not to
mention
in the kitchen tonight when I licked the teryaki off your incredible, luscious body…”

“Just shut up and grab the keys.”

He squatted, reached forward into the grass, and picked up the key case. Staying low, he gazed at me and said, “You want me, I want you. We’d be great together. We could go off tonight…Hell, we could leave Elroy here and drive away right now. I’ll take you to my van, and we’ll hit the roads. We’ll leave
all this
behind. What do you say?”

“Eat shit and die.”

Laughing, he stood up. “That’s what I love about you. You’re so tough.
And
you’ve got a sense of humor. Not to mention your killer figure.”

“He’s slipping,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Elroy.”

Steve looked over his shoulder just in time to watch Elroy’s body slide off the car’s trunk and tumble onto the driveway. Facing me again, he shook his head, smiled, and said, “All the guys fall for you.”

52
HEAD GAMES

It worked out well. With Elroy sprawled on the driveway, Steve was spared the extra chore of lifting him off the trunk.

I waited near the side of the car while Steve unlocked the trunk. As the lid swung up, he stuffed the keys into a front pocket of his shorts. Then he turned around, picked up Elroy, carried him over to the trunk and dropped him in. The car squeaked and rocked a little. Steve slammed the lid shut.

“Shall we be off?” he asked.

“Not quite yet,” I said. “We’re missing something.”

He grinned. “I suppose we’d forget Elroy’s head if it weren’t attached.”

“Let’s go get it.”

Worried that Steve might try to shut me out of the house, I stayed ahead of him, walking backward all the way to the front door.

I’d liked it better when he had his arms full.

In the foyer, I said, “Let’s make a stop in the kitchen, first.”

For that, I let him take the lead.

As we entered the kitchen, he warned, “Careful of the broken glass.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome. What are partners for?”

I stepped around the glass. “We’re not partners.”

“Maybe not yet. But soon.”

“Yeah, sure.” I spotted my own keys near the end of the counter, exactly where I’d left them after coming into the house with Elroy. “Step over to the right,” I said.

Steve followed instructions. When he was out of my way, I walked toward the counter.

“Need your keys?” he asked.

I didn’t bother to answer.

“Which hand will you pick them up with?” he asked. “The one with the cord, or the one with the sword?”

“This may work,” I said. Then I tucked the plug under my right armpit. I clamped my upper arm tightly against my side to hold it there. “Now if the cord gets away from me,” I said, “I’ll just have to chop your head off.”

“Hey, we’re a team,” he said. “Get your keys. I won’t try anything.”

Watching him closely, I sidestepped to the counter and used my left hand to pick up the key case.

He watched
me
closely as I slipped the case down inside the front of my panties. The leather felt smooth and cool. “Lucky keys,” he muttered.

“Shut up,” I said. “Let’s go get Elroy’s head.”

Being careful again to avoid the broken glass on the floor, we left the kitchen. From there, we had several possible ways of getting to the pool. I decided on the den door, mostly because I wanted to inspect the carpet damage.

The trail of blood started at the doorway of the guest bathroom and dribbled along the hall toward the den. Not great quantities of blood, but enough. Too much.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about these stains,” I said, walking a few paces behind Steve. “They aren’t going to clean up. Damn you, anyway. I’ve been cleaning up after myself ever since last night. I’ve covered up
everything
. I’ve worn myself out, cleaning up and covering up and…What am I gonna do about
this
? There’s no way to make all these blood stains go away, you bastard.”

“Replace the carpet,” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, sure. You think my friends wouldn’t notice a new carpet?”

He grinned over his shoulder. “Come away with me, and it won’t matter.”

“No way.”

He entered the den. I followed him, pausing long enough to hit a light switch with my elbow. A lamp came on, and I saw the dribble of blood leading to the den’s sliding door. “I guess I could tell them I got cut and it’s
my
blood.”

“Excellent idea. You have such fine ideas. That’s one of the things I love about you, darling. Along with your…”

“Shove it.”

“So sorry.”

“Why’d you have do that with his head, anyway?” I asked.

“Cut it off, you mean?”

“And carry it through the house and
roll
it at me.”

He chuckled. “I was hoping to bowl you over.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” I said.

“I’m a
splendid
fuck, as you’ll soon learn.”

“Yeah? Has hell frozen over?”

As Steve neared the sliding door, I quickened my pace. I was about one stride behind him by the time he stepped outside.

I glimpsed the stains he’d put on the glass last night.

Then I stepped out, let him walk ahead, and gave the cord a sharp pull. Its other end jerked his left leg backward. Yelping with alarm, he fell headlong onto the concrete. He caught himself with his hands, but seemed to land fairly hard.

“Just another guy falling for me,” I remarked.

On his hands and knees, he looked back at me. I suspect he might’ve been scowling, but I couldn’t see much of his expression because of the darkness.

“That’s a lousy way to treat your partner,” he said, pushing himself up.

“Knock off the partner crap.”

“If you say so.”

“We aren’t partners. We’ll never
be
partners.”

“We’re already accomplices,” he said. “In the eyes of the law.”

“I don’t plan for the eyes of the law to look in my direction. So just shut up about the eyes of the law and get in that pool and find Elroy’s head.”

“All right. Partner.” Steve took a few steps and halted at the edge of the swimming pool. Then he stood there, slowly turning his head.

Pretty soon, he said, “Oh, my.”

“What?”

“It’s gotten dark.”

“I noticed.”

“I can’t seem to locate the head.”

“It’s down there someplace.”

“Does the pool have lights?”

“Give me a break,” I said. Stepping closer to the edge, myself, I looked down into the water. It might’ve been a pool of black ink.

“Do
you
see his head?” Steve asked.

“No.”

“I suggest we try the lights.”

We didn’t seem to have much choice. “Okay,” I said. “They’re over here. Come on.” I gave the cord a small tug.

“Don’t do that.”