“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.”
“I’ll do whatever I want. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
Using the saber, I pointed out the electrical panel on the wall behind the outdoor table. “You first,” I said.
He started toward it, and I stayed a few strides behind him, giving the cord plenty of slack.
The bag of tortilla chips and the margarita pitcher were still on the table.
“Shall we take a break for cocktails?” Steve asked.
“Keep going. Don’t touch that pitcher.”
“How about this?” he asked. Stepping around the table, he scooped up my bra with his bare right foot. It draped his foot like a huge red mask, flopping about but not falling off as he kept on walking. “Of course,” he said, “I prefer you without it.”
“Big surprise. You made me take it off.”
“But I’ll let you have it, now.”
“Don’t bother.”
He stopped at the electrical panel and flicked a couple of switches.
Lights suddenly flooded the patio. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the pool lights had come on, too. “That’ll do it,” I said.
“Excellent,” Steve said. Turning around, he swung up his foot and flipped the bra at me.
I snagged it out of the air with the saber. It slid down the blade until it met the crosspiece. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“Aren’t you going to put it on?”
“Maybe later.”
“It does look like your hands are full,” Steve said. “Would you like me to lend you a hand?”
“Let’s go get the head.”
I backed out of his way. He walked past me.
As I followed him, I lowered the saber. My bra slid down its blade and fell off. I stepped over it.
At the edge of the pool, I stood a couple of yards to Steve’s left. The water was brightly lighted, and looked pale blue because of the pool’s blue tiles. The hot night breeze ruffled its surface.
“Thar she blows!” he called out, and pointed.
Elroy’s head had dropped into the pool at the shallow end. But it hadn’t stayed there. It had wandered to the deep end, where it now rested under about twelve feet of water. It seemed to be face-down as if giving the drain a close inspection.
“Now we have a problem,” Steve said.
“Do we?”
“Who goes down for it?”
“You do.”
“Well, I don’t believe the cord is long enough. Not if you’re planning to stand here and hold it.”
“We’ll see. Move over that way,” I told him, and gestured to the right with my saber. “We’ll get as close as we can.”
We both walked along the edge until Steve was adjacent to Elroy’s head.
“We’re still not close enough,” he said. “The cord’s too short.”
“Go anyway.”
“If you say so.” With that, he suddenly dived off the edge.
Before he even hit the water, I was leaping out. I held the saber high in my right hand, the end of the cord low in my left. Feet first, I plunged deep.
Through a frothy curtain of bubbles, I saw Steve trying for the bottom. He was in front of me and lower in the water, nearly vertical, kicking and reaching. His shorts had almost come off in the dive. You could see a few inches of his butt crack. From neck to rump, his skin looked very pale and stark and wavery in the underwater lights.
Near his left ankle, his kicking flung the cord this way and that. But he still had slack.
And he still had slack when his right hand thrust down and clutched Elroy by the hair. Hanging on to the head, he curved away from the bottom and began to rise.
Which is when I tried to come up.
And couldn’t.
For one thing, the saber weighed me down. For another, I held the cord in one hand and the saber in the other, leaving no hand free to paddle at the water. Though I struggled to kick my way to the surface, I didn’t seem to be making any progress.
I didn’t panic, though.
I was in no danger of drowning.
Before letting that happen, I would empty my hands and swim to safety.
But what kind of safety would it be if I left the saber at the bottom of the pool?
Just let go of the cord, I told myself.
But I kept my grip on it.
You’ve gotta let go!
Can’t! He’ll get away!
Suddenly the cord jerked and nearly flew out of my hand. I squeezed hard and kept hold of it by the plug.
The cord began to tow me through the water.
53
THE GETAWAY
Above me but still below the surface, Steve was swimming toward the shallow end of the pool. He must’ve known he was pulling me along behind him, but he didn’t do anything about it.
He had no idea, I’m sure, that he was helping me.
If he’d known, he would’ve stayed in the deep water. That would’ve forced me to drop the cord or the saber or both.
But he towed me to safety.
Just when I was starting to ache for a breath of air, the bottom of the pool suddenly sloped up sharply under me. I tried to lower my legs and stand up. I couldn’t manage it, though, with Steve still pulling me forward.
Then he stopped.
I planted my feet on the tile bottom and burst out of the water, gasping for breath and thrusting my saber high. I blinked my eyes clear.
I was standing in water high enough to touch the undersides of my breasts. Ahead of me, Steve turned around in water up to his waist.
The light shimmered on his slim body. He hadn’t lost his shorts, but they were down below the pool’s surface. So was Elroy’s head. They wavered and undulated the way things do when they’re under water.
“Have a nice ride?” he asked.
“Yeah, thanks.”
He lifted Elroy’s head by its hair. It came up looking at me, water spilling down its face, its eyes and mouth wide open.
When the head was level with Steve’s shoulders, he changed his hold on it. He put his left hand under the pulpy neck to act as a platform. Then his right hand let go of the hair and gripped the back of Elroy’s head.
He turned the face toward himself. “And how did you like the ride, Elroy?”
“It was just super, Stevie boy,” Steve responded on Elroy’s behalf, speaking in an enthusiastic nasal voice and moving his lips like a lousy ventriloquist.
“Cut it out,” I said.