“Thank you.”
“It’s your loss.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Going out with some pathetic loser when you could be going out with me.”
“I’ll probably regret it.”
“You’ll definitely regret it.” The smile still on his lips, his eyes went hard.
Dana felt a little cold and shaky inside.
That sure sounded like a threat. The creep just threatened me.
He turned away and stepped out of sight around the rear corner of the ticket booth. A moment later, the door banged shut.
Dama took an enormous breath, filling her lungs. She blew the air out through her pursed lips, then hopped up onto the stool.
She felt a little sick inside.
In her mind, she saw the sneer on Clyde’s face as he said, He’s a fag.
Warren’s gay?
That figures. That just figures.
Unless maybe Clyde was lying. Wouldn’t put it past him.
What a prick. I wouldn’t go out with him if...
The hell with him. What about Warren?
Warren hadn’t seemed gay. You couldn’t always tell, though.
They didn’t all prance around, flipping their hands in the air and rolling their eyes and talking like flamboyant broads. Many did, but certainly not all of them.
Tuck’ll know, she told herself.
Might be nice if he is gay. Then we can just be friends, and not...
Damn it! just when you think you’ve met...
Off in the distance, the front door of Beast House swung open. Five or six people stepped out onto the porch and started down the stairs. A couple of them were taking their earphones off.
About time, Dana thought. Customers.
She hopped off the stool and waited for them.
When they arrived, she chatted with them and took their players. After they left, she rewound all the tapes, then returned the players to the shelves behind her stool.
The shelves were nearly full. Only a dozen or so players were still out.
She glanced at her wristwatch.
4:35
In less than half an hour, ticket sales would stop for the day.
But the house would remain open until 6:00, giving everyone time to complete the tour.
This could get boring.
She hopped up onto the stool.
Well, I’d rather be bored than have Clyde out here bothering me.
She supposed he was right about one thing, though: how could she spend the summer as a Beast House guide if the place made her feel ill?
I’ll just have to get over it, she told herself.
Won’t get over it by standing out here in the fresh air and sunlight. Why not go back in for the rest of the afternoon?
It seemed like a good idea.
She reached down for the walkie-talkie on her belt. But instead of pulling it free, she rested her hand on its warm plastic top.
I oughta stick this out. Tuck’s already had to change stuff around because of me. Let’s not cause any more trouble.
After this, she thought, I’ll bring a book to read.
The time passed slowly.
At five o’clock, Clyde closed the ticket booth. He came around the rear corner. “So, have you changed your mind about dinner?”
“Sorry,” Dana said.
“Your loss. I’ll be taking off, now. One of the perks of working the ticket booth, you get to leave an hour early. Have fun.”
Nodding, she said, “Bye.”
Clyde winked, stepped past her, then gracefully vaulted the tumstile and headed toward town. Not looking back, he waved.
Immediately, Dana felt a pleasant sense of lightness, of freedom.
Amazing, she thought, how one person can mess up your outlook.
He’s gone, now. Enjoy it.
And enjoy it she did. It was one of those great afternoons when the sun is hot but a cool, moist breeze is blowing in from the Pacific. Seagulls squealed. She thought she could smell the ocean and the beach and the candy smell of suntan oil.
She pictured herself strolling barefoot along the beach, Warren by her side.
But if he’s gay...
Doesn’t mean we can’t stroll on the beach together, she told herself.
Sure wouldn’t be the same, though.
It made her feel cheated.
It gave her a tight, unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Instead of being eager for six o’clock to arrive, she started to dread it. Because she might have to face Warren, and she would definitely be facing Tuck.
Tuck would know the truth about him.
And Dana wasn’t so sure she wanted to find out.
I don’t have to ask.
As closing time approached, however, she began to have new worries.
The shelves where she stored the tape players were nearly full. But not quite.
They had three empty spaces.
By six o’clock, the three players had still not been returned.
Chapter Sixteen
SANDY’S STORY—August, 1980
“I’ll go and get a shovel,” Harry said. “Why don’t you ladies wait for me here?”
“Aren’t you afraid we’ll leave?” Sandy asked.
“Leave if you want You’re not my prisoners. But if you stay, I’ll help you bury the guy. And you can spend the night at my place. I think you two could use a little rest.”
“Dat’s for damn sure,” Lib said.
“While I’m gone, maybe you should strip him. We’ll take his clothes and stuff back to the cabin with us and bum everything.”
“Done this sort of thing before?” Sandy asked.
“Just common sense. His body might get found someday. Better if it can’t be identified.”
“Yeah, that’s probably we,” Sandy said.
“Want the flashlight?” Harry asked.
“Don’t you need it?”
“I can get by without it.” He handed the flashlight to Sandy, then said, “I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
“Okay, see you.”
“Bring us someting to drink, huh?”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
After he disappeared into the woods, Sandy could still hear his footsteps for a while. The crackling, crunching sounds finally faded out.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“About what?” Lib asked.
“Him. Harry.”
“Yum yum.”
tom serious.”
“Me, too.”
“He’s seen Slade. And us.”
“Guess he aims to help us.”
“Do you really think so?” Sandy asked.
“He’s goin’ por a shovel.”
“Maybe he’s going to call the coups.”
“Nah,” Lib said. “Ip he was gonna do dat, he would ob made us go wit him.”
Sandy supposed she was right about that. The guy certainly hadn’t acted as if he wanted to have them arrested. He’d actually seemed shocked by their story, and sympathetic. But maybe he’d been too sympathetic, too eager to take their side.
Maybe he had something up his sleeve.
“I tink he’s gonna help us bury da bastard.”
“Why would he want to do that?” Sandy asked.
“He’s a guy. We’re a couple ob babes. What da you tink? Probably wants to get in our pants.”
“If he tries anything with me,” Sandy said, “I’ll kill him.”
“Well, don’t kill him till apter da hole’s dug.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Shine dat light down here,” Lib said, and crouched over Slade’s body.