Body Rides (60 page)

‘We was on a campout since Friday,’ Sue told him. ‘We only just got back this mornin. Must be how come we missed the news. Not as how I
knew
Elise myself, but Tracy’s told me lots and lots about her.’

Lots and lots? What does Tracy know? Who the fuck is she? What if Elise told her about our fights
. . .
the breakup?

‘How long did you know my wife?’ he asked Marta.

She shrugged, which drew Vince’s eyes to her breasts. ‘Six months or so, I guess.’

‘But I’ve never met you,’ he said.

‘We got together for lunch quite a lot. Also, you weren’t around very often. I’ve been over here to the house . . . oh, I don’t know . . . ten or twelve times, probably. You were always away. The fact is, Elise made a point of never asking me over when you were home.’

Ah. Little wonder. Didn’t want me laying my eyes on a babe like
. . .

‘You weren’t actually supposed to be home
today
,’ Marta went on. ‘Elise told me you’d be in Hawaii.’

‘And so I was. But . . .’ He managed to choke up again. ‘I came back early . . . Because of . . . I’m sorry.’ He shook his head and wiped his eyes.

‘I’m really sorry we came along and disturbed you,’ Marta said climbing down from the stool. ‘We had no idea. This is so awful. We never would’ve come if we’d known.’

‘You’re not leaving?’ Vince managed to ask.

‘We’d better,’ Marta said. ‘I mean, dropping in on you at a time like this . . .’

Sue, giving him a somewhat forlorn look as if she hated to go, swiveled around and slid off her stool.

For the first time, Vince saw her from behind.

His gaze latched on her buttocks – naked except for the slip of black fabric up her crack. Lust slammed through him. He went
almost breathless. His heart pounded. His penis grew rigid, tilting upward. He felt it pushing at the flimsy fabric of his swimsuit.

‘Don’t go,’ he said. ‘Please. At least stay for a while, enjoy your drinks, have a swim. I insist.’

‘We really shouldn’t,’ Marta said.

‘No, please. Elise wouldn’t have wanted you to run off. I’m sure of that. She would’ve insisted that you stay and enjoy yourselves. Please. For her sake. And for mine. You two . . . you’re like a breath of fresh air. Truly. Ever since I came back, it’s been nothing but tearful well-wishers trying to console me. And reporters. And police. I’m so . . . so weary of it all. But you two . . . a couple of lovely, cheerful young women who came here at Elise’s invitation simply to enjoy yourselves . . . Stay. Please. You do my heart good.’

When he said that about his heart, he clapped a hand to his bare chest.

Marta and Sue looked at each other.

‘Please. Stay.’

‘Fine by me,’ Sue said.

‘Well,’ Marta said, ‘all right.’ To Vince, she said, ‘If you’re sure.’

‘I’m absolutely, one hundred per cent sure.’ He sighed. With all the fuss, his passion had subsided somewhat. Instead of urgent lust, he now felt proud of himself for convincing them to stay. He also felt a certain quiet thrill of anticipation.

They’re mine now. Get them nice and soused, and we’ll all go in for a little swim
.

He imagined himself with them, cavorting with them in the pool, all three naked and gleaming.

‘
Not a chance, asshole
.’

Vince, unaware of Neal’s remark, cut wedges of lemon and squeezed them into the drinks while he imagined himself wrenching off Marta’s swimsuit top and setting her breasts free.

He gave each drink a quick stir with the blade of his paring knife.

‘Shall we take them out to the pool?’ he suggested.

He watched the two women step forward and pick up their glasses. Then he lifted his own glass. He stepped around the end of the bar, slid the door open, and said, ‘Girls first.’

They filed past him, almost brushing against his body with their smooth, oiled skin.

Look at them! My God! Tracy and Katt
.

He wanted them both. Badly. And knew that he would succeed. If not this afternoon in or by the pool, then tonight. He would ask them to stay for dinner.

He isn’t suspicious of them anymore, Neal realized as he observed the plans forming in Vince’s mind.

Plans for grilling steaks on the barbecue, keeping their glasses loaded with vodka and tonic, eating outside by candlelight. Later, after a leisurely dinner – including a nice Carbernet Sauvignon – they would be good and soused and ready for a night swim. Get them to take their suits off.

‘
It feels so much better that way. You feel so free. The water slides over your skin like a lover’s caress
.’
They always go for that line. They always want to be naked in the pool. And they want me to see them naked. All of them. Always. And after the skinny-dipping, they always want to
. . .

Fuck!

I’ve got the fucking drop-off tonight! Gotta take that fucking maniac his money
.

The thought of it made Vince feel squirmy inside.

He’s terrified of Glitt, Neal realized. Why the hell did you hire Glitt if you’re scared to death of him?

Because he’s the best man for the job? If you want a sadistic rapist to take care of your wife for you . . .

Stop it! Neal warned himself. You’re missing stuff. Pay attention.

. . .
get there by two . . . Leave around one-thirty?
Drink in hand, Vince stepped outside.
That oughta do it, can’t take more than half an hour. Why’d he pick a place so far away?

Vince started to close the door, sliding it slowly.

I’d better get there early. Good and early. Don’t want to run into that fucking beast. Just drop it off and get my ass out of there
.

So what time?

Maybe one at the latest
.

The door bumped shut.

Try to fuck these babes and get rid of them by midnight. Midnight at the latest
.

Should be easy
.

Neal snarled into his mind, ‘
You’ll fuck these babes when Hell freezes over, dirtbag
.’

Vince turned away from the door. Marta had already set her drink on the round, glass-topped table. Sue stood at the other side of it.

‘Is this all right?’ Sue asked.

‘Wonderful,’ Vince said.

They all sat down on patio chairs around the table.

‘Sure is nice out here,’ Sue said, turning her head and gazing at the pool. ‘Sure wish I had me a place like this.’

‘You’re welcome to come over any time,’ Vince said. ‘Both of you.’

‘Thanks,’ Sue said. ‘That’s awful nice. Know what? Ya fooled me. I figured you’d be sort of a creep.’

They know all about me!

‘Yer always such a mean stinker in yer movies.’

False alarm
.

She smiled at him. ‘I never been to a movie star’s house, before.’

My lovely, sweet darling!

‘Oh, I’m not what one would call a
star
.’

‘Sure y’are. I seen bunches of yer movies.’

‘We’re both fans of your work,’ Marta added.

‘Why, thank you.’

‘Ya know my favorite?’ Sue asked. ‘It’s the one where you hire this guy to knock off yer business partner.’

Nodding as if he appreciated her praise, he tried to figure out which film she meant. In several, he’d paid men to murder people who were causing him trouble.

‘I can’t recall the name of it,’ Sue said, frowning.

‘Neither can I,’ Vince admitted. ‘I’ve been in so many. Do you remember the cast?’

‘There was you.’

He chuckled.

‘I don’t know. Was it Chuck Norris?’

‘I haven’t appeared with Chuck Norris.’

‘Well, must’ve been somebody else. Anyhow, how it ends, yer in this parking lot, all set to hand over a million bucks to the killer . . .’

Vince suddenly stopped trying to figure out which film she was trying to describe.

He saw himself swinging his car into a parking lot at night.

Tonight?
Neal wondered.
What is this? A memory? Or is he thinking about tonight?

The scene was continuing in Vince’s mind. He was climbing out of his car in a brightly lighted parking lot. The lot of a Video City store; Neal could see the big, neon sign in the background.

Vince carried a wrinkled old grocery sack by his side. Its top was crinkled down, its bottom swollen.

My God, that’s it! The money’s in the bag! That’s the payoff!

You did it, Sue! You did it!

‘ . . . only instead of
him
showing up for the payoff, the killer? . . . it’s the guy he was s’pose to’ve murdered. Who
was
that? Could’ve sworn it was Chuck Norris.’

‘Van Damme?’ Marta suggested.

‘Nah.’

‘That Steven Seagal?’

Vince, his mind-film rolling, sees himself stuff the grocery sack inside a garbage container beside Video City’s front entrance. As he releases the sack, a voice from behind says, ‘The joke’s on you.’ He whirls around. Elise is striding toward him, very alive, dressed in her blue satin pajamas. The pajamas flow against her body, purple in the lights of the parking lot. She carries a bloody meat cleaver in one hand. In her other hand, swinging by its hair, is the head of Leslie Glitt.

‘That movie doesn’t sound at all familiar to me,’ Marta said, pulling Vince’s mind out of the awful fantasy.

He picked up his glass and took a drink. ‘Frankly,’ he said, ‘it doesn’t ring a bell with me, either.’

‘I coulda
swore
it was you,’ Sue told him.

‘I don’t believe it was.’

Sue shook her head, and took a drink. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘don’t
I
just feel like a prize shit?’

Vince chuckled. ‘No call for that.’

‘Katt’s always sticking her foot in her mouth,’ Marta told him. ‘I think she must enjoy the flavor.’

‘Yer’s, they’re so big they don’t fit in
nobody’s
mouth.’

‘Let’s not fight, girls,’ Vince said, enjoying himself.

‘Show him yer big feet,’ Sue taunted.

‘Settle down, Katt.’

‘They’re so big, she can’t fall down. Just pops right on up again. She can’t drown, either. It’s as good as wearin flippers. She’s safe anywhere.’

‘Ha ha,’ Marta said. ‘You’re hilarious.’

‘Yer so safe, I’d hide my jewelry in ya – if I had some.’

Vince laughed.

‘If you ever did that,’ Marta told her, ‘I wouldn’t give you the combination.’

‘What combination?’ Sue asked.

‘To open me up and take your jewelry out.’

‘I ain’t got no jewelry.’

Laughing, Vince shook his head.

Come on, come on
, Neal thought.
Your safe. Think about your safe and combination. It’s the least you can do, these two jumping through hoops for you this way
.

‘If I
had
some jewelry,’ Sue said, ‘last thing I’d do with it is to stick it in you. Less maybe I shove it where the sun don’t shine.’

‘Girls, girls.’

Marta sighed and shook her head. ‘I have to apologize for my cousin. She’s not usually this way. I imagine it’s the vodka. She’s not actually old enough to drink, you know.’

‘I am too old enough. I was old enough when I hit nine.’

Vince, surprised and amused, raised his eyebrows. ‘You started drinking at the age of nine?’

‘Yup. That’s when I figured out how to lay my hands on Daddy’s booze. He kept it locked up, ’cause of Mom bein a lush. There was this lock on the cabinet. The combination kind? Well, Daddy had him a real bad memory, so he wrote the combination numbers on a piece of paper that he kept in his billfold. So one night when he was sleepin, I snuck a peek at it and copied it all down. I got away without him catchin me, went straight to the booze cabinet and squatted down and started workin on the lock. It was a left this way, a right that way, and then a left. Like that. Took me eight or nine tries. All that left and right stuff, and do ya pass the number once or stop at it right off the bat – hard to keep it all straight. But then I finally got the thing to unlock for me. I opened it up and there was ten different sorts of booze all lined up
in rows. I had me sips from every bottle. Time I got done, ya never seen a girl so drunk. It’s a miracle I made it back to bed.’ She sighed. ‘Anyhow, I didn’t touch another drop for about five years after that.’