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“I figured to leave him in the room, here, and wait till we’re someplace far away. I want to make his body disappear, you know? Someplace where it’ll never be found. The thing is, there might be people who know he came looking for me tonight. Maybe if we both vanish off the face of the earth...”

“Suits me pine,” Lib said. “Let’s all banish.” Standing up, she put her hands on her hips and seemed to be studying the body. “We get to moobin’, he’ll start to roll around. Wanta anchor him down or put him someplace?”

“Nah, that’s all right. We’d get all messy. Let’s just finish up and go.”

At least he’s confined to the bedroom, Sandy thought as she drove slowly down the hillside, trying to stay in the ruts.

I shut the door, didn’t I?

Sure I did.

In her imagination, though, she’d left the bedroom door wide open and she pictured Slade tumbling through it, rolling into the hallway, his bloody mutilated corpse somersaulting down the whole length of the trailer.

Probably didn’t happen, she told herself. And if it did, the harm’s already done.

Just try not to let the trailer flip over or you’ll REALLY be in trouble.

In spite of the low gear, they were picking up speed on their way down the slope.

“Carepul,” Lib said.

Sandy eased down on the brake pedal for a few seconds and watched the speedometer needle sink. When she let up, it started to climb. So she put on the brakes again, squeezing the speed down, the needle dropping from 20 to 15 to 10. By the time she reached the edge of the paved road, she’d slowed almost to a stop.

The road looked empty, so she made a slow, right-hand turn. Then she shoved the shift lever to Drive and started to pick up speed. Cool air, smelling of the woods and ocean, blew straight into her face through the hole in the windshield.

“Made it,” Lib said, and patted her leg.

Sandy took a deep breath. She felt relief about coming down the hill without mishap, but now they were on a real road—where they were sure to be seen, sooner or later, by people in passing cars.

Maybe by cops.

A squirmy tightness came into her stomach.

“I don’t know how far we’ll be able to go,” she said. “The way this car looks, we’ll be stopped by the first cop who sees us.”

“Just tell him we hit a deer.”

That didn’t seem like a bad idea. Vehicles crashed into deer fairly often in this area. That sort of accident might explain the damage to the car.

“But I don’t have a driver’s license,” Sandy explained.

“Huh?”

“I’m driving. No matter what we tell him, he’ll want to see my license. And I don’t have one.”

“I got one.”

“But you’re smashed. And if he takes one look at you, he’ll know somebody pounded the crap out of you. If we get stopped, we’re sunk.”

The single headlight caught a sign by the edge of the road:WELCOME TO MALCASA POINT

POP. 2,600

HOME OF THE LEGENDARY “BEAST HOUSE”

PLEASE DRIVE WITH CARE,

WE LOVE OUR CHILDREN.

Then the speed limit went down to 35.

Sandy took her foot off the gas pedal until the needle dropped to 30.

Turning her head slightly to the left, she stared out across the moonlit field at Agnes’s house.

Home.

I’m going to miss it so much. And Agnes.

She ached to turn into the driveway.

One more look around. It might be my last chance forever. And give Agnes a last kiss before I go. I might never see her again. She might be dead by the time I ever...

“Place sure looks spooky at night,” Lib said.

It’s not spooky, it’s home.

She frowned at Lib, but saw that her friend’s head was turned toward the right, toward Beast House.

So her frown became a smile. “You oughta try being inside it in the middle of the night.”

“Tanks but no tanks.” She faced Sandy. “So, is dat where you met Eric’s padder?”

“He was known to hang around in there.” She turned her head for a final glimpse of Agnes’s house. Her throat suddenly felt thick. Tears welled up in her eyes.

How can I just drive away like this and not even tell her goodbye or thanks or ANYTHING. She’s the only person in the whole wide world who loves me.

Except Eric.

And a whisper came as if from a malicious twin caged in a corner of her mind, What about Mom?

No! Fuck her! She hates me! I hope she’s dead.

The twin whispered, No you don’t. You miss the bell out of her.

Bullshit!

“Uh-oh,” Lib said.

Sandy came out of her thoughts and spotted the trouble.

Several blocks ahead of them, a car with bright, twin headlights was making a left-hand turn onto Front Street. Squinting, Sandy tried to see if it had a light rack on top.

She couldn’t tell.

But if it does...

“Hang on,” she said.

She hit the brakes and made a hard right. The force of the turn pushed her sideways against her door. Lib swayed toward her, but didn’t fall. In the rearview mirror, she saw the trailer swing around behind them. It stayed up.

A growl came from Eric’s basket.

“It’s okay, honey,” Sandy said loudly, trying to sound confident and calm.

She raced toward the end of the block. At the corner, she turned left. She eased over to the curb, stopped, shut off the engine and killed the lights.

“If it comes,” she said, “we’ll duck out of sight.”

They waited.

Sandy’s heart thudded and her mouth felt dry.

Lib made a quiet, throaty laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Da pour ob us. Poor cop’d tink he popped in on a puckin’ horror moobie, huh? Couple ob dames on da road widda butchered asshole in da trailer and a baby monster in da backseat.”

“Eric isn’t a monster.”

“Tell dat to da cop.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to,” Sandy said. “Not yet, anyway.”

Reaching forward, she twisted the ignition key and started the engine.

“Tink it’s sape?” Lib asked.

“Yeah. It would’ve been here by now.”

She put on the headlight, then pulled forward, steered onto the road and picked up speed.

She wished she was back on Front Street. This might be her last time in Malcasa Point. It didn’t seem right to miss all the old, familiar places along the main road if you wouldn’t ever have a chance to see them again.

Better to be safe, though.

Anyway, who says I can’t come back?

It’d be too dangerous, she told herself. Especially after tonight.

But I could come back. If I wanted to badly enough.

Ahead of her, the road dead-ended. She turned left and returned to Front Street. Waiting at a stop sign, she looked back at the town. There were no cars on the move. She saw no one. Some of the shops were lighted, but none seemed to be open.

The lone traffic signal, a flashing red light, blinked on and off and on again.

“Whatcha waitin’ por?” Lib asked.

Sandy shrugged. “Nothing,” she said. Then she turned right and put downtown behind her.

When she drove past the Welcome Inn, she tried not to look at it. But her eyes strayed over.

At the sight of the motel, memories rushed in.

Mom...

And that dirty rotten Jud. He’d seemed like such a good guy, at first...