“He uses the same model in all of them?”
“Oh, yes. Isn’t she a find? She’s simply devastating.”
Sandy almost slipped and said, Thanks. But she caught herself in time.
“She’s Blaze’s niece, you know. Such a beauty! She comes all the way up from San Francisco twice a month to pose for him. I’ve met her myself, and she is just the most charming creature.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Well,” Sandy said, “I’ve got to be on my way. Maybe I’ll come in for a look at the new one.”
“Try us early next week. Of course, we never know for sure when Blaze will come in, but we are the only gallery he deals with. If you want an Electra, this is the place to come. And, as I mentioned, they sell as fast as we’re able to hang them on the wall. Your best bet would be to come in daily.”
“Well, we’ll see. Thanks again.”
Sandy walked out of the gallery, amazed that Megan hadn’t recognized her, determined never to return, delighted that paintings of her could be so highly prized, and looking foward to an increase in pay from Blaze.
A big increase.
And she’d gotten it.
She’d decided not to tell him about her visit to the art gallery, but just to...
“Be a good girl and wet yourself up again,” Blaze said, snapping Sandy out of the memories. “You’re losing your cling.”
“Wouldn’t want to loose that,” she said. She stetched, then turned around and waded into deeper water. There, she dunked herself to the shoulders. The water felt cold and good. She came up with her dress clinging, her skin shiny wet.
“Fabulous,” Blaze said.
She returned to her former position and bent over with her right leg forward, her body turned slightly toward Blaze. She fixed her eyes on the rocks beyond him.
“Tilt your head up slightly. Good, good. Fabulous.”
Blaze resumed painting.
After a while, he said, "This may be our masterpiece.”
“What’s your asking price?” someone called.
The man’s voice seemed to come from somewhere in the rocks beyond Blaze.
Chapter Thirty
PICTURE PERFECT
At the snack stand, Owen asked for a Red-Hot Beastie Weenie, fries and a medium Creature Cola. John Cromwell ordered a Double-Decker Monsterburger Deluxe, Beastly Chili Fries with cheese, and a large Creature Cola. Owen paid for both meals.
"You’re really a pal,” John said and patted him on the shoulder.
"Well, glad to help.”
“Most guys wouldn’t do that, you know?”
"Well...”
“Good main. Hope I can do something for you some day.”
"Well, that’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”
Soon, the food was ready. They carried their trays over to a corner table and sat down.
John stripped off the paper and poked his straw through the split X on the lid of his drink. He sucked up some cola, then sighed. “Know what I’ll do for you? I’ll take your picture.”
“Ah, that’s...”
John shoved his chair back and stood up.
“You don’t have to.”
"I want to. No, seriously.” Stepping away from the table, he raised the camera to his eye. “Just act natural,” he said. “None of this cheese shit.”
Owen laughed.
John snapped the shot, then sidestepped and took another. Then he returned to the table. “I’ll send 
em to you,” he said, sitting down.
Send them to me? He’ll need my address.
What if he drops in for a visit?
"Ah,” Owen said, “you don’t have to...”
“Tell you what, pal. Know what I’ll do? I saw you scoping out that guide. Lynn. A real babe-a-roo, huh? How about if I send you copies of the shots with her in ’em, too? Bet you’d like that, huh?”
“I guess so,” he admitted.
“You guess so.” John laughed.
“Yeah, that’d be fine.”
“It’s done, man.” He stretched his mouth open wide and bit into his huge burger. Juices and melted cheese dribbled off and spattered the paper lining of the basket.
Mouth watering, Owen picked up his Red-Hot Beastie Weenie and took a bite. The buttery, grilled bun crunched. His teeth popped through the charbroiled skin of the hot dog. Warm, spicy juices flooded his mouth.
John said something, but his mouth was full so Owen couldn’t understand a word that came out.
“Huh?”
John chewed for a while, swallowed a couple of times, and said with his mouth only half-full, "Weenie-eater.”
“That’s me.”
For a while, they ate and didn’t talk.
Owen thought about John’s offer to send him photos of Lynn. He would be glad to get them, all right. But he wasn’t eager to let John have his home address.
Even if I give it to him, be probably won’t send the pictures. People are always making promises like that, but they hardly ever follow through.
Later, John paused in his eating and said, “So, how about what we were talking about before?”
“What?”
“Will you take my camera with you on the Midnight Tour? Do that for me, I’ll get doubles made and send you one of everything.”
Owen shook his head.
“Come on, man. Please. What’s it gonna hurt?”
"I have my own camera.”
“No sweat. Take shots with both.”
“Do they even allow photography inside the house?”
“Can’t use a flash. I already checked. But I got high-speed film. Four hundred. You don’t gotta have a flash, not if there’s any kind of decent light at all. So what kinda film you using?”
“Two hundred.”
“You’re fucked. Won’t get dick inside the house, night or day. Not without a flash.”
“I can buy a role of four hundred before the tour.”
“Hey, come on, man.”
“Why don’t I take tour pictures with my camera, have doubles made and send you a copy of everything?”
John grimaced “I haven’t got anyplace you can send 'em to. I’m living in my car, man. I’d never get ‘em. Jeez! Cut me a break, will you?” He suddenly smiled. The crevices between his teeth were calked with white pasty bun. “Anyhow,” he said, “I already got the pictures of you and Lynn on my camera. You want them, don’t you?”
I’d want them a lot worse, Owen thought, if they were pictures of Dana.
Dana!
An idea struck him.
Stunned him.
He thought about it for a few seconds.
“What?” John asked.
"I tell you what,” Owen said. ”How would you like to go on the Midnight Tour, yourself?”
“You kidding?”
Owen leaned to the right and pulled out his wallet. He removed a fifty dollar bill and reached across the table with it.
John frowned at the bill. “What’s that for?”
“A down payment on a job.”
“Who I gotta kill?”
“You don’t have to kill anyone, but I want you to shoot one of the other guides.” Owen grinned, pleased by his pun, delighted by his plan. “With your camera. Her name’s Dana. She’s probably working inside Beast House right now.”
“What’s she look like?”
"Tall and blond. And extremely beautiful.”
“Right. The gorgeous one. Know just who you mean. Saw her yesterday, myself. A real honey. I got a stiffy just...”