“What are you doing?” she whispered.
Whispered. He liked that.
“I’m getting us a place to stay.”
The window sill was level with Roy’s head. The window was shut.
“I’m gonna lift you up,” he whispered. “Tell me who’s inside.” He put down his backpack and patted his shoulder.
Joni climbed onto his shoulders. She held the top of his head. Gripping her knees, Roy slowly stood until her eyes were level with the bottom of the window.
“Closer,” she said. She leaned forward, thighs pressing the sides of his head. Hands cupped to her eyes, she peered into the window screen. “Higher,” she whispered.
He raised her. “Who’s there?”
“Nobody.”
“Are you sure?”
“Huh?”
“Is anyone there?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He lowered her to the ground, and she climbed off. “You’re not lying, are you?”
“I don’t tell lies,” she said solemnly.
“Okay. You’d better not.”
“I’m hungry.”
“We’ll eat when we get inside.”
“What?”
“I’ve got lots of stuff in the pack. But first we have to get in there.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer. He led her to the right side of the cabin. There were two windows on the side, but they could be seen from the cabin across the parking area. He didn’t want to chance being seen. They returned to the single rear window.
He could only get in by breaking it.
That would mean noise.
What were the alternatives? He could walk to the door of an occupied cabin, knock, and knife his way in. Someone might see him, though. And if he screwed it up there might be a scream. That’d be worse, by far, than a little breaking glass.
Maybe he should go under the cabin and watch for Donna from there. Kneeling, he looked into the crawl space under the elevated floor. It was a couple of feet high. Plenty of room. He ought to have a good view from the front.
It would be filthy, though. All kinds of bugs and spiders. Slugs. Maybe even rats. No telling how long he would have to wait: maybe hours. And what would he do with Joni? The hell with that.
With his knife, he pried loose the two lower clamps of the window screen. He worked the screen loose and propped it against the wall.
Reaching into the pack, he took out his flashlight. “Okay,” he said, “onto my shoulders.”
Joni climbed on.
Roy handed the flashlight to her. He straightened up. “See up there? Where the window ends?”
“Here?” She pointed to the wood crossbeam at the bottom of the upper window.
“Right. Break the glass just above that, then you can undo the latch. Use the end of the flashlight. Hit it hard.”
“Here?”
“A little more to the left.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. Now hit it hard so it breaks the first time.”
Holding him across the forehead with one hand, she swung. Roy heard the loud slam of the flashlight striking glass. The glass didn’t break. “Hard!” he muttered. “Hit it hard! Hard as you can.” He waited. “Go ahead, damn it!”
The flashlight crashed down on his head. Again. Again. Pain streaked through his skull. He put a hand up. The flashlight struck his fingers.
Ducking, he rammed Joni into the wall. She cried out and dropped the flashlight. Roy reached up. He grabbed her blouse and tugged. The girl tumbled over his head. Her back slammed the ground.
“Hey!”
Roy looked toward the corner. A teenage girl stood there, holding towels in her arms.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. She sounded more angry than afraid.
In an instant, Roy had his knife out. He pressed it to Joni’s belly. “I’m gonna kill this little girl if you don’t come over here.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Run or yell, and I’ll gut her like a catfish.”
The girl began to shake her head. “You’re sick,” she said.
“Come here.”
With short, hesitant steps, the girl began to approach him. Her eyes watched him closely, as if trying to figure him out.
He watched how the late-afternoon breeze ruffled her hair. He watched how her small breasts jiggled seductively inside her white T-shirt. He watched her lean, tanned legs.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked.
“I might ask you the same thing.”
“Just answer.”
“I own the place.”
“You?”
“My family.”
“Then you’ve got keys,” he said, and grinned.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 1.
Over the sound of the television, Donna heard a car drive up. Sandy looked at her, worried. Putting down the newspaper, Donna climbed off the bed and went to the window. A dark green Chrysler pulled to a stop just outside the door. “It’s Jud and Larry,” she said. She opened the door for them.
“Any sign of him?” Jud asked.
Donna shook her head. “No. How’d you do?”
“Not too bad.”
“Not too bad, indeed!” said Larry. “We got away scot-free, slick as thieves, and cast your eyes on this.” He waved a leather-bound book. “This is the diary of Lilly Thorn. Her own words. Good heavens, what a find!” He went to the edge of the bed and sat down beside Sandy. “How was your afternoon, my little lady bug?”
Donna turned to Jud. “Did you find the beast
suit?” “No.” “What about Mary Ziegler’s body?”
“Not that, either. There were a couple of places we couldn’t search, though.”
“Did someone come back?”
“No. One of the rooms was already occupied, and we didn’t check the cellar because there was a light down there.”
“Then somebody was home?”
“Several somebodies, by the looks of it.”
“There’s only Maggie, Axel, and Wick,” she said.
“And two were over at Beast House running the tours.”
“So who was in the house?”
“Axel, I suppose. And at least two others.”
“But who?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a little spooky.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t too happy about it, myself.”
They sat on the side of Jud’s bed. “What was the house like?” Donna asked.
She listened closely, intrigued by what he told her of the blue lights, the living room with no furniture except pillows, the bathtub with its strange handles. Most of all, she was fascinated by the bedroom.
“You wouldn’t think Maggie Kutch was the type. And Hapson! That guy’s an old weasel. It’s hard to picture them making love at all, much less under mirrors. The bondage part I’ll buy, though. The sadism. Did you see the look on his face when he went after Mary Ziegler with his belt?”
Jud nodded.
“I always thought they were a bunch of sickoes. I mean, you have to be, don’t you, living off tours of a place like Beast House?” 2.
Except for a half-hour walk up a hill that overlooked the ocean, they spent the afternoon in Cabin 12. Larry read the diary in less than an hour, at times shaking his head in disbelief, and muttering. Sandy watched television. Donna sat next to the window with Jud.
At four-thirty, Donna mentioned that she’d like to find out about her car. The four of them walked to the Chevron station. As they approached it, she saw her blue Maverick along with three other cars parked beside the garage. “I bet he hasn’t touched it yet,” she said.
Jud walked with her to the office, where the bony mechanic was busy on the telephone. They waited outside until he was done.