The mother looked around. Be nice, honey.
Riley stepped around her. Whatre you doing here, Dunbar?
I just want to talk a minute.
Whatever youve gotta say, I dont wanta hear it.
The mother turned on him, scowling and shoving her fists against her hips. Did you hear what I said about being nice?
Mom, for godsake!
I just want to talk to you a minute, Lane said. Its really important.
Maybe the two of you should step out front. There isnt much privacy in this place. She fixed her eyes on Riley. You be a gentleman, or youll be sorry.
He wrinkled his nose. Glaring at Lane, he said, Okay. Lets go out. But make it quick.
Lane stood up. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Benson.
Nice to meet you, honey. She held out her hand. The names Melanie. You can call me Mel.
Lane shook the womans hand. Im Lane Dunbar.
Hope to see more of you around here.
Dont hold your breath, Riley told her.
He led the way outside. Lane followed him to the road. He sat down on the hood of her car. Okay, whats the fuckin idea?
Your moms nice.
Yeah, sure, a sweetheart. Shes probably got an eye on us, or Id take you apart, you fuckin cunt.
I came here to tell you who killed Jessica.
He sneered. Yeah, sure.
Kramer did it.
The sneer fell away. He stared at Lane. He said nothing.
Kramer got me alone last night. He beat me up and raped me.
Rileys eyes narrowed. You dont look beat up. His voice came out quiet, uncertain.
He didnt hurt my face.
How do I know he did anythingto you?
Lane checked the area ahead. On the other side of the street was empty land, a barren hillside. Keeping her back to Rileys home, she fumbled open three buttons. She spread the front of her blouse wide enough for him to see her breasts. Thats just some of it, she muttered, closing the blouse.
Kramer did that to you?
And plenty more. And he had a razor with him. He said hed use it on me if I talked. He said hed kill me and my family. I think thats what happened to Jessica and her parents.
Riley slumped forward and clutched his knees. His head lowered. For a while he just sat like that on the cars hood, staring down. Then he raised his head and met Lanes eyes. Jessica looked like that. After she got herself pounded. She said it was a gang of spies got her behind the mini-mart.
It was Kramer.
Im gonna kill him, Riley said.
Im gonna help you.
Lane swung the denim bag forward. Clutching it to her belly, she reached inside and took out a revolver. Its my dads, she said. Its just a twenty-two, but...
Thatll do just fine, Riley said.
Lane waited in the car while Riley went back inside his home. A few minutes passed. Then he came out and climbed into the passenger seat. I told the old lady were going to a matinee.
Lane took the paper out of her blouse pocket. She checked the second address.
Whats that?
Its where Kramer lives.
All right.
She put the paper away and started to drive.
Ive got something for him, Riley said. He tugged up a cuff of his blue jeans, reached down and came up with a knife. Lane glanced at it. The thing looked wicked. Its blade mustve been eight inches long.
Heres how were gonna work it, he said. You keep the motherfucker covered with the gun. Illdo him. Dont you go shooting him up unless he makes a break for it.
Well be each others alibis, Lane said, her voice shaking.
Fuck alibis. I dont care if they get me for it.
I do. And Im sure your mother does. If were caught, we might not get charged with anything, or end up with suspended sentences. I mean, I dont think a jurys going to put us away for this. But lets try to work it so the cops dont come looking.
Oh yeah? How do you figure we can manage that?
Why dont we make it look like suicide?
Fuck that. Im gonna cut his dick off. Im gonna cut his head off.
Maybe we can make him write a suicide note. Make him confess what he did to Jessica. On paper. Then we hang him. Right there in his house.
You read too many fucking books.
Its worth a try.
On Kramers street, two blocks from where his house should be, Lane swung the car to the curb. She faced Riley. He had the knife in his right hand, rubbing its blade along the leg of his faded jeans.
Why dont we walk from here? she said. That way, nobodys likely to connect the car with what happens to Kramer. She paused and tried to catch her breath. She hadnt been doinganything, but she felt as if shed just finished dashing up a few flights of stairs. Ill go on ahead first. Give me a couple of minutes head start.
Youll be alone in there with him.
Dont I know it, she muttered. She lifted the bag onto her lap and dropped the keys inside. After a quick look around to make certain no one was in sight, she took out the revolver. She set the bag on the floor. Leaning back against the seat, she untucked her blouse, lifted its front, and slid the muzzle under the waistband of her skirt. It only went down an inch before pushing against her pubic mound. Lowering the blouse, she held the gun against her belly. She opened the door and climbed out.
Good luck, Riley said.
Thanks. She shut the door. Facing the car, she slipped the revolver farther down until it was snug between her skirt and body. She glanced down at herself. The hanging front of her blouse concealed the bulges.
The back of the blouse was glued to her skin. She peeled it away, but as soon as she let go, it stuck again.
There was no sidewalk in this neighborhood, so she walked along the edge of the road. The barrel pressed her groin. The front sight sometimes scraped the inner side of her left thigh, so after a while she nudged the gun butt sideways. Then the muzzle was stroking her right thigh with each step she took. But it was smooth, and didnt scratch her the way the sight did.
She remembered last night with the bottom of the crucifix stuffed in her jeans.
Last night, a cross. Today, a revolver.
Its a weird damn world, she thought.
She glanced back. The Mustang was a block away, Riley still in the passenger seat.
She kept walking.
A mortal sin, she thought. Ill be risking Hell, murdering Kramer. Even if its Riley who does the dirty work. Ill be just as guilty as him in the eyes of God.
What am I supposed to do, let Kramer go on raping me? Let him kill Mom and Dad?
Its self-defense. Lane didnt know a lot about Church policy, but it seemed like allowances were made for killing people in self-defense, war, that kind of thing. She sure hoped so.
At the next corner she took the paper out of her pocket. She unfolded it. Squinting as the white paper glared sunlight, she read the address again: 838.
She looked back. Riley was out of the car.
She put the paper away. She rubbed a sleeve across her face to dry the sweat. She continued walking. The sun felt like a hot blanket on her back. She wanted to reach around and pluck at the seat of her panties, but Riley was sure to see her do it.
The house to her right was 836.
Next door was Kramers. A small, adobe house with a picture window. Its driveway was empty.
Gasping for breath, heart slamming, leg muscles feeling as soft as pudding, she walked up the driveway.
No garage. A carport instead.
The station wagon wasnt in the carport.
It wasnt anywhere in sight.
Hes not home!
After all this, she thought, he hasto be.
She mounted the front stoop. She rang the door bell, and heard quiet bells from inside the house.
She waited.
She wished she could catch her breath.
She slipped a hand under the front of her blouse and wrapped sweaty fingers around the grips of her fathers revolver. The barrel moved, nudging her groin. She thought about Kramers mouth down there.