The Midnight Tour (35 page)

Years ago, Eric had started chasing down and killing wild animals (and sometimes people) for his meals. He ate them where they fell, though he often brought back gifts of meat for Sandy to cook up for herself. Sure, he enjoyed special treats like pizza, popcorn, cake, chocolate chip cookies—but he didn’t need anything like that.

Didn’t need Sandy at all, really.

Sure, he’d miss me. He’d miss his mom. But he could get along just fine without me.

And I’d be free. I could have my own life.

Without him.

She felt hot and sick with guilt...and with a vast, overwhelming loneliness.

I couldn’t, she thought. I could never betray him like that. And God, I’d miss him. I just couldn’t.

But the alternative seemed almost as terrible.

To spend her whole life in that little cabin, all alone except for Eric. No lovers, no
real
children.

Real?

Again, guilt surged through her.

You know what I mean, she thought. I know he’s real. Do I
ever!
But my God, is it so awful to wish for a normal life? A husband and
human
kids?

It’s not that I don’t love Eric, but...

“Shit,” she said.

She hated thinking about these things.

Just then, the song came on. The song she liked best. The weird and spooky ballad about Roland, the headless Thompson gunner.

She sang along with it and tried not to think about such matters as Eric and freedom.

It was after ten o’clock by the time she drove over the bridge and entered town. At a public phone inside the Sea Breeze Cafe, she dropped in a quarter and tapped in a number that she knew by heart.

After two rings, a familiar voice asked, “May help you?”

“Hi, Blaze, it’s me.”

“Darrriing!”

“Could you use me today?”

“Could I? Of course! When could I not use you?”

Just thought I’d check. Make sure you’re not off on a cruise or something.”

“Oh, perish the thought! I may never go on a cruise again. I thought I’d die! Several people
did!
Ha!”

“Fun. Anyway, do you want me to come up to your place or should I meet you somewhere, or...?”

“Oh, come here first. If we decide on an outing, I’ll drive.”

“Okay. Great. See you in a white.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Sea Breeze.”

“Ah. Then I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

“So long, Blaze,” she said, and hung up.

She drove down the main street of Fort Platt. The town had a bay with a wharf and plenty of boats, but she knew of no military installation in the area. Maybe they should’ve called it
Port
Platt.

It always reminded her of Malcasa Point. Not that the two towns had much in common. Fort Platt sure didn’t have any tacky attractions like Beast House. It wasn’t very big on bait shops, liquor stores or cheap souvenir shops like Malcasa, either. No way. Fort Platt was a
class
act Or so it seemed to fancy itself,

Like many other communities along the California coast, it had long ago acquired the reputation of being an “artist’s colony.” By the time Sandy had first ventured there, late in 1980, it had already mutated into a trendy vacation area.

The main road was lined with picturesque restaurants, boutiques selling candles and tea and handicrafts, bookstores that smelled of incense and carried books by environmentalists and obscure poets, and galleries featuring the works of local artists.

Such as Blaze O’Glory.

Just beyond the north end of town, Sandy turned right onto Buena Vista Parkway and headed inland. She followed the broad curvy road into the hills, turned onto Emerald Drive, then onto the narrow, twisty Crestline Lane. It led to the entrance of Blaze’s driveway.

Stopping at the bottom of the steep driveway, she shifted to first gear. Then she started forward. The front of her pickup tilted toward the sky and she felt her weight shift against the seatback.

At the top, her hood lowered. She felt as if she were coming in for a landing—on a runway in front of a fabulous house made of glass and weathered wood.

She left her car in a parking area near the garage, then walked past the front of the house and climbed a dozen slate stairs to the porch.

She pressed the doorbell button.

Inside the house, chimes rang out a tune. The one about wanting a gal just like the gal who married dear old Dad.

She chuckled and shook her head.

Blaze opened the door. “My
dear!
” he cried out and flung his arms wide.

Sandy stepped over the threshold.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her.

She gave his back a couple of pats. He was wearing a silk kimono. The fabric felt slick under her hands, and the heat of his skin radiated through it.

He eased her away and held her by the arms. “Look at you. Oh, just look at you. Gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous! As ever. Never change, darling! Whatever you do, never change!”

“You look pretty good yourself, she said.

Oh, dear, I know. I know! Ha! I look totally fabulous, don’t I?”

“As ever.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you chose today to come by. You’ve absolutely
made
my day.” He swept her aside, then closed the front door and whirled around to face her. “Oh, I do miss you when you’re gone. You’re such a
delight!
I do wish you’d move in. I have
oodles
of room.”

“I know. Maybe someday.”

“Oh, don’t torment me with your empty promises. I know you’ll never move in. But I do keep hoping, don’t I? We could have such fine times, you and I”

“I’m sure we would.”

“You are so gorgeous. And you’re such a chatneleon. So many moods and changes, so many shifts and nuances. If I had my way, you would be my
only
subject. I would spend every hour of my life painting no one but you.”

“Well, thanks.”

“We’d not only have a grand time, but we’d become
filthy
rich.”

“How
are
we doing ?”Sandy asked.

“Modestly well.” Wiggling his eyebrows, Blaze slipped a hand into a pocket of his robe. He drew out a fat pack of bills that were folded in the middle and held together by two rubber bands. “Your twenty percent,” he said. He dropped it into Sandy’s hand.

“Wow,” she said.

“Indeed. That’s two thousand three hundred smackarooes.”

She grinned. “Pretty good.”

Leaning toward her, Blaze narrowed one eye, lowered his voice and said, “We are an unbeatable combination, Ashley. Your beauty and my genius in capturing you on canvas...But you need to be here. I require your
presence
”

“Well, I just can’t get out here very often, Blaze.”

“How far away
do
you like?”

“Far far.”

“You have no
desire
to be wealthy?”

Two thousand bucks a month ain’t hay.”

“But we could be doing so much better. We could make a
fortune.
”

“I thought you artistic types didn’t care about money.”

“Am I not human? Do I not bleed ? Do I not crave
goodies
?”

Laughing, Sandy stuffed the pack of money into a front pocket of her jeans. “Well, Mr. Greedy, we’d better get to it.”

“Yes! The sooner, the better!” Smiling, he raised both hands like a kid trying to feel raindrops. “It’s a lovely day. Shall we go down to the sea again?”

“Fine with me. You driving?”

“I’ve already packed the gear. All we need to do is change into more suitable attire, and we’ll be off.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

STAFF ENCOUNTERS

In the parlor, Ethel looked as if she hadn’t been tampered with overnight.

“So far, so good,” Dana said.

They searched more and more of the house.

Nobody jumped them.

Nothing seemed out of place.

All the mannequins appeared to be in their usual condition.

Done with the walk-through, Tuck and Dana headed for the front door. “Maybe everything’ll go a little more smoothly today,” Tuck said.

“We’re getting off to a good start—if we don’t include the intruder at your house.”

“Oh, thanks for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome

“He’s probably after
you
, you know.”

“Thank
you,
” Dana said.

“My pleasure.” She opened the door and Dana followed her onto the porch. “Just be careful,” she said. “Keep your eyes open, okay? Don’t think you’re necessarily safe just because it’s broad daylight and there’re lots of people around...” She shook her head. “The house has a lot of little empty places. Places where things could happen. So don’t let your guard down.”

Noddihg, Dana said, “You watch out, too.”

“You bet I will.”

Side by side, they trotted down the porch stairs. As they headed around the house, Dana felt her heartbeat quicken. “Warren doesn’t show up for the staff meetings, does he?” she asked.

“Not the guide meetings.” Tuck flashed a grin at her. “So sorry,.”

“Just asking.”

“Sure
you are. Anyway, he’s not actually staff. Not anymore. He owns the snack stand.”

“Owns
it?

“Oh, yeah. Makes a nice little profit off it, too. But he doesn’t attend the guide meetings.”

“Ah.” .

“Don’t worry, you’ll see him sooner or later.”

“I know. I wasn’t...”

“
Sooner
if you buy yourself a cup of coffee before we get started.”

“He’s here
now?
”

“Maybe.”

They stepped around the rear corner of the house.

“Yep,” Tuck said. “He’s here.”

Dana only saw the three other guides. Rhonda smiled and waved. Sharon lit up a cigarette. Clyde, off by himself with one foot up on a chair, held a cigarette in his lips and a white styrofoam cup in one hand. Seeing Dana, he looked away.

“Warren’s inside the snack stand,” Tuck explained.

Dana squinted at it. Though sunlight glared on the glass front, she could see that one of the serving windows was open.

She smiled at Tuck. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine. But you’d better hurry.”

“Right back.” Quickening her pace, she angled away from Tuck and hurried over to the stand.

Warren stepped up to the window and smiled out at her. “Moming, Dana.”

“Hi. Could I get a cup of coffee?”

“What size?”

“What sizes have you got?”

“Tom Thumb, Madame Blavatsky, and Cyclops.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“I hope it doesn’t get around.”

“I only try it out on special friends.”

Dana felt heat rush to her face. “Well, thanks. So I guess your
medium
sized coffee is the Madame Blavatsky?”

“You got it.”

“I’ll have one.”

“Take anything in it?”

“Just coffee.”

“Coming right up.” Warren stepped away from the window.

Looking over her shoulder, Dana saw that the other guides were gathering around Tuck.

“Here you go.”

She reached into her pocket.

This one’s on me,” Warren said.

“Well...thank you.”

“You’re welcome. How did it go yesterday? Did those cassette players ever turn up?”

“Two out of three. One’s still out.”

Warren grimaced slightly.

He shook his head. “It’s been happening a lot lately, that’s all. Maybe people stealing them. Anyway, I think Lynn’s waiting for You.”

“I’d better get going. See you later, okay?”

“You bet,” he said.

“Thanks again for the coffee.” She picked up the stryofoam cup, turned away and started toward the group. She walked slowly, her eyes on the steaming, dark surface.

Is he still at the window? she wondered. Is he watching me?

Is he interested? . .

He gave me free coffee, didn’t he?

Yeah, but why was he in such a rush to scram, yesterday? Like he could get away from me fast enough.

Scared I’d ask him to help me search the house.

“Okay,” Lynn said. “We’re all here.”

“Hi, Dana,” Rhonda said, smiling as her cheeks reddened.

“Hi, Rhonda. Sharon.”

Sharon, a cigarette jutting from a corner of her mouth, tipped her a wink. “Day two.”

“Yep.”

Clyde stared at her through the drifting smoke of his Camel. She nodded a greeting to him, but refused to smile. He kept on staring at her.

Was that you at the pool last night, Clyde,

You in the house this morning?

What were you doing in there, spying on...?

“The good news,” Tuck said, “is that nobody screwed around in Beast House last night.” .

“Nobody you know about,” Sharon said.

Diana took a sip of mffee. It was very hot, and tasted like a French roast.

Warren makes good coffee, she thought. -

“The bad news is, we came up short a cassette player yesterday. We started out
three
short, but Dana and I turned up two hiders. Just a couple of goofballs. They claimed not to know anything about another hider, and we couldn’t turn anyone else up. So there’s still one player outstanding.”

“-—Ciutstanding,” Clyde muttered.

Lynn said, “We don’t know of any missing tourists, though.”

“We never do, do we?”

“Probably because they
aren’t
missing,” Lynn told him.

“If we had a customer vanish every time a player does, we would’ve gone out of business years ago.”

“So you say.”

“Get off it, Clyde,” Sharon said.

“I say the beast is back,” Clyde said. He tossed a quick smirk at Dana. “Every so often, it puts the snatch on someone. Needs some fresh meat, you know what I mean?”

“He’s just trying to scare you,” Rhonda said.

“I’m trembling,” Dana said.

“Maybe you
should
be. You might be next.”

“That’s enough, Clyde,” Lynn said. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this. Far as we know, nobody’s missing. The player’s gone, that’s all. People do steal the things. But we need to keep our eyes open. Maybe someone
did
get snatched, even though there’s no reason to think so. Another possibility is that we’ve got a hider. If it’s a hider, he might still be in the house. No telling what he might be up to, so we need to be especially careful.”