Allhallow's Eve: (Richard Laymon Horror Classic) (9 page)

He made a U-turn. He sped back to the entrance and pulled in, but Elmer was nowhere in sight. Slowly, Sam drove down the parking area. He counted twelve rooms, each with a bright orange door. Every room had two parking spaces. Elmer’s Volvo was in front of Four, beside a white Datsun.

Probably, he’d gone into Four.

Light came through the room’s pale curtains.

The spaces in front of Six were empty. Sam pulled in, and climbed from his car. A cold wind blew against him. He zipped his jacket, stuffed his hands into its pockets, and strolled up the walkway.

Slowing to listen at Four, he heard voices and laughter from a television. The sliding windows were
shut. Nothing showed through the curtains. He kept walking.

He went to the motel office. It was well-lighted and warn. A young woman behind the registration desk looked up at him from a magazine. She took off her glasses and smiled. ‘Hi. How are you tonight?’

‘Just fine,’ Sam said. Stepping close to the desk, he caught the odor of her perfume. The same perfume Cynthia wore. Suddenly, he was struck by her beauty: her wide eyes, her full lips and soft chin, the way her hair hung softly to her shoulders. She wore a white pullover that hugged her breasts.

‘What can I do for you?’ she asked.

Sam raised his eyes to her face. She looked amused, one eyebrow high. Was he
that
obvious about studying her? He blushed.

‘I don’t come with the rooms,’ she said.

Sam laughed. ‘You’re a mind reader.’

‘I know a randy man when I see one.’

‘I’m randy, but I’m engaged.’ It was a minor lie; he
felt
engaged, but so far hadn’t asked Cynthia.

‘Is the lucky girl with you?’

‘Not tonight.’

‘Then you’ll probably want a single.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not here for a room.’ Reaching into his rear pocket, he took out his billfold. He held it open on the desk. ‘My name’s Sam Wyatt.’

‘Is that real gold?’ the woman asked, staring at his shield.

‘Gold-plated.’

‘Okay if I touch?’

‘Sure.’

Her fingertips stroked the badge. ‘Say, that’s nice.’ She grinned up at him. ‘Are you here to arrest someone?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Not me, I hope.’

‘Not you.’

‘That’s good.’ She slipped the badge out of the wallet. ‘It’s a heavy thing.’

‘I need to know who’s in number Four.’

‘Sure.’ She pinned the badge on her sweater. It dragged down the soft fabric, and settled on her left breast. ‘How do I look?’

‘Terrific.’

‘Melodie Caine, homicide.’ Folding her hands on the desk, she leaned forward. ‘Are you a homicide cop?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, losing his smile. ‘Afraid I am, tonight.’

Melodie’s smile dissolved. ‘I guess this is serious, then.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Hold on.’ She opened a file box, flipped through a few cards, and pulled one out. ‘This is the registration card for unit four.’

‘Thanks.’ Sam looked at the neatly printed name. ‘Ms Mary Jones.’ The home address was in Greendale, a suburb of Milwaukee.

‘Is she your suspect?’

‘Maybe.’ Sam wished he’d thought to bring the photo along. ‘What’d she look like?’

Melodie’s heavy lips pressed together. Her eyebrows drew downward. ‘She’s about thirty-five or forty. She’s a couple of inches taller than me, and thin. Too
much make-up, especially around the eyes. I couldn’t see what she was wearing, except for a gray trench-coat. I think she wore heels, though. And nylons, of course.’

‘What color was her hair?’

‘Blond. Dishwater blond.’

‘When did she arrive?’

‘Tonight. Half an hour ago, I guess. Think she’s the one?’

‘I don’t know. Could be.’

‘Want to find out?’

Sam nodded.

Melodie bent down, the badge swinging as it tugged her sweater out. She straightened, and dangled a key in front of Sam. ‘Okay if I come along?’

‘Better not. I don’t expect trouble, but you never know.’

She gave him the key. ‘Hurry back.’

Sam left the office. He was halfway to the room when he realized Melodie still had his badge. He didn’t want to bother going back for it.

‘Sam?’

He looked around. Melodie was standing in the office doorway, the wind blowing her hair.

‘Want your badge?’ she asked.

‘Later.’

She stayed in the doorway, and folded her arms across her breasts. Sam turned away. He walked to the door of Four. Standing aside, he knocked. Seconds passed. He knocked again.

Over the sound of the television, a woman’s voice called, ‘Who is it?’

‘Ms Jones?’ he asked.

‘Just a minute.’

He lowered his hand, and popped open the safety strap of his holster. His stomach felt tight. He took a deep breath, trembling as he exhaled.

The door opened several inches until its guard chain rattled taut. A woman’s face appeared in the gap. Her eyes met Sam’s. She blinked, and her mouth dropped open. ‘Mr
Wyatt
?’

He stared, confused, trying to recall where he’d seen her. Then he remembered. This morning. Across the street from Dexter’s house. ‘Mrs Barnes?’

‘What … what are you doing here?’

‘Is Elmer Cantwell inside?’

‘No.’

‘His car’s parked in front.’

‘So? I don’t know any Elmer Cantwell.’

‘Who’s with you?’

‘My husband.’

‘You came all the way out here to a motel with your husband?’

‘Yes. We … like the privacy. Away from home.’

‘I’d like to speak to him.’

‘He’s in the bathroom.’

‘I can’t leave until I’ve seen him.’

‘Goddamn it,’ she muttered. Tears glistened in her eyes.

‘Mrs Barnes, I’m not interested in your personal life. I certainly have no intention of telling anyone you were out here. But I’m investigating a homicide, and I have to know if Elmer’s in there with you.’

Holding her blouse shut with one hand, she wiped tears from her eyes and smeared her mascara.

‘Tell him to come to the door.’

‘He’s not
here
.’

‘Do you read the “Crime call” in the
Clarion
?’

Her chin started to tremble.

‘If I have to arrest you, Mrs Barnes, you’ll be reading about yourself. So will everyone else in town, including your husband and daughter.’

‘You can’t arrest me,’ she muttered.

‘Of course I can. Tell Elmer to come to the door. Right now.’

The door shut.

Looking to the side, Sam saw Melodie standing in the office doorway, still watching. She raised an open hand in greeting. Sam nodded.

He heard the guard chain rattle and skid. Then the door swung open. Elmer, fully dressed, smiled out at him. ‘May I help you,
Mister
Wyatt?’

‘I’m looking for Thelma.’

‘Do you think she’s here?’

‘Mind if I look?’

Elmer blinked his bulging eyes. ‘You’ve seen who’s with me.’

‘I’d like to look around.’

‘You are a persistent devil.’

Elmer stepped aside, and Sam entered the room. The Barnes woman was nowhere in sight. One of the double beds was messed, its blankets still in place but rumpled. A bottle of Scotch stood on the night table, two drinking glasses beside it. Green slacks were folded neatly over the back of a chair.

Dropping to his knees, Sam glanced under the bed.

Elmer chuckled.

Sam pulled open the closet door. Then he said, ‘Ask Mrs Barnes to come out of the bathroom, please.’

‘Do you really think that’s necessary?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thelma is
not
hiding in the tub, if that’s what’s on your suspicious little mind.’

‘I’d like to make sure.’

‘With a loud sigh, Elmer stepped to the bathroom door.

‘Ticia?
Mister
Wyatt wants you to come out.’

‘No!’

‘Do as he says, darling.’ Elmer scowled at Sam. ‘You’ve upset her terribly, you realize.’

The door opened. Ticia Barnes came out, her blouse now buttoned, a bathtowel wrapped around her waist. She glared at Sam. Her eyes looked red from crying, but the dark smudges of mascara were gone.

‘Excuse me,’ Sam said. He stepped past her, and entered the bathroom. He slid open the shower door. Nobody in the tub. He shut it. Turning away, he looked at the toilet. Its lid was down.

He glanced at the empty sink, then back to the toilet.

Crazy, he thought. But he couldn’t stop himself.

Bending, he raised the lid.

A face looked up at him and he leaped back, gasping, before he realized he’d seen only his own reflection on the water. The lid crashed down.

‘What
are
you doing?’ Elmer asked.

Sam didn’t answer. He stepped out of the bathroom.

‘Did you find her?’ Elmer asked, grinning. ‘Was she hiding in the toidy?’

‘Thanks for your cooperation,’ Sam muttered. He walked toward the door.

Elmer stayed beside him. ‘I am a trifle curious,
Mister
Wyatt. Did you follow me out here?’

‘That’s right.’

‘You thought I’d lead you to Thelma? So sorry to disappoint you.’ Elmer pulled open the door for him. ‘Do have a pleasant evening.’

‘If you know where Thelma is …’

‘I haven’t the vaguest. Nighty-night.’

Sam left. Walking toward Melodie, he heard the door shut.

‘No luck?’ she asked.

‘A disaster.’ He gave her the key, and followed her into the office.

‘Let me get you some coffee. It’ll make you feel better.’

‘Sounds good,’ he said.

‘Come on through here.’ Behind the registration desk, Melodie opened a door. ‘Home sweet home.’

‘This is where you live?’ Sam asked. The softly-lighted room looked cozy.

‘This is it. I’ve also got two bedrooms and a kitchen. Have a seat.’

He lowered himself onto the couch, and leaned back.

‘Cream or sugar?’

‘Just black.’

‘Right.’ She hurried across the room, her kilt flipping against her legs.

Sam shut his eyes. Let’s not complicate the disaster, he warned himself, by getting involved with this gal. A cup of coffee, and that’s it.

She came back with a ceramic mug in each hand. She gave one to Sam, and sat down beside him. He took a deep breath of her perfume.

‘Must be a strange life,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Living in a motel.’

‘I love it.’

‘Meet lots of interesting people?’

She smirked. ‘A few. You, for instance. You’re very interesting.’

‘I’m engaged, remember?’

‘Engagements get broken.’

He looked at her hands. Both were wrapped around the mug, as if savoring its heat. She wore no ring on her left hand. ‘You sound like you know.’

‘First-hand.’ She searched his eyes for a long time. ‘You’re not the kind of guy who dumps people,’ she said, still staring.

‘I try not to.’

‘You’ve got such gentle eyes.’

‘Well …’ Blushing, Sam shrugged.

‘Whoever you’re engaged to, she’s a lucky woman.’

‘I keep telling her that.’

‘She’d better know it.’

Sam took a sip of coffee. ‘I have to get going.’

‘Worried?’

‘A little.’

‘Don’t be. I’m harmless.’

‘Are you?’

‘You’re engaged, remember?’ She sipped her coffee, and set the mug down on the table. ‘I’d better give this back,’ she said. Smiling, she lifted the badge. ‘We’re not pinned, after all.’

He watched her hands work at the clasp, and slide the badge off her sweater. It left two tiny holes over her breast.

She placed the shield on his palm, and folded his fingers over it. ‘You’re the first guy,’ she said, ‘who ever let me wear his badge.’

‘Maybe we can do it again sometime.’

Her eyes turned sad. She gave his closed hand a quick squeeze. Then she let go, and stood up. She backed away, rubbing her hands on her kilt. ‘Should I keep an eye on that room for you?’

‘Not much point, I guess.’ Sam finished his coffee, and stood. ‘Of course, if another woman shows up … I don’t think that’s likely to happen, though.’

He followed Melodie through the door to the office.