‘He tried for me.’
‘Good thing I turned on the lights, huh? He might’ve got ya.’ Bending over slightly, Sue stared down at him. ‘He sure looks crumped.’
Marta moved closer to him.
His ankles remained bound together by the belt. But his arms were now stretched out away from his sides. Both hands were empty.
The pliers lay on the bottom of the pool. They were shiny in the lights. They appeared to waver and wobble as if made of flimsy rubber.
Beside the pliers, also wavering, was Neal’s automatic.
‘Watch him,’ Marta said. Then she ducked under the water and grabbed the pistol. She came up quickly. Glitt looked as if he hadn’t moved. She stepped to the pool’s edge and reached the weapon up to Sue.
As Sue took hold of it, Marta said, ‘Go to the garage and get the axe. I changed my mind.’
15.
After they finished with Glitt, they shoved his body back into the pool. Water burst up and splashed them. Sue picked up his head by its hair. She swung it underhand and let go. It flew high over the pool, tumbling.
It didn’t splash.
It went too far and landed on the other side, hitting the concrete with a nasty thonk.
Sue muttered, ‘Oops.’
They both watched the head roll to a stop.
Then they squatted over the pool and washed their hands in the water.
When they were done, Sue used the front of her shirt to wipe the handles of the knife and axe.
Marta picked up Neal’s pistol and shorts. She dropped the pistol into one of the big front pockets. But she didn’t bother putting on the shorts. ‘Okay,’ she said.
‘Ready?’ Sue asked.
‘Yeah, let’s beat it.’
‘Aren’t ya gonna put ’em on?’
‘They won’t stay up. Let’s go.’
Marta in the lead, Sue close behind her, they ran to the corner of the house and through the dark orchard.
So much time had gone by since the gunfire that they hardly expected to encounter police. But they worried. They listened. They heard no sirens, no racing engines, no slamming doors, no footfalls, no urgent voices.
They heard only their own rough breathing and the quiet metallic sounds from the pockets of Neal’s shorts: the clatter of loose .380 rounds clicking against each other and the pistol; the tinkling of her keys.
At the front gate, they stopped.
They listened.
Marta stepped out to the street and looked both ways. ‘We’re okay,’ she whispered. Then she raised the shorts in front of her and dug into one of the pockets. She pulled out her key case. ‘You drive, okay?’
‘Sure.’
She tossed the keys to Sue.
As Sue climbed into the driver’s seat, Marta leaned over the passenger side. She dropped the shorts and snatched up the Creeper’s cape. Standing up straight, she unfurled it. She swept it behind her body, wrapped it around her front.
It stuck to her damp skin.
Sue, starting the engine, looked back at her. And smiled. And said, ‘Super Marta.’
To which Marta sang out in a whisper, ‘Here I come to save the day!’
And thought, Oh God, if only I could’ve saved Neal.
As Sue thought, You oughta be here, Neal. It ain’t fair.
Wrapped in the black cape, Marta climbed over the top of the door and dropped into the passenger seat.
Sue stepped on the gas. The Jeep took off with a lurch.
Later
1.
In the days that followed, two major incidents vied with the O.J. Simpson murder trial for news coverage in the Los Angeles area.
The lesser incident involved a shootout in which a carload of gang-bangers opened fire on a young man named Neal Darden, who was apparently out late at night returning rental movies to Video City. In an unusual twist of events, the victim happened to be armed. Though fatally wounded himself, his return fire and the resulting auto crash caused the deaths of all four of his assailants.
Neal Darden became an overnight hero to many citizens of Los Angeles. Others considered him a vigilante and no better than those who had killed him.
Nobody connected Neal’s death to the butchery that occurred the same night in the nearby community of Brentwood.
Those killings weren’t discovered until the next day when a young woman dropped by to pay condolences to Vince Conrad over the recent death of his wife. Conrad’s wife, former Olympic diving great Elise Waters, had met her own grisly demise at the same house earlier in the week.
The woman, Pamela Goodwin, an actress who’d worked with Conrad on the recent film, Dead Man’s Tale, entered the property just before noon on Friday and discovered the remains of an unidentified white male in the backyard swimming pool. Inside the house, she found the body of Vince Conrad. Like the stranger, he had been horribly mutilated.
The police claimed to be working on several leads.
Pressed for more information, they stated that certain similarities in the crimes indicated that Vince and the stranger had most likely been victims of the same killer or killers who had butchered Elise Waters the previous Sunday night.
They refused to say more.
But several grisly details of the killings leaked out.
There was talk of another Manson family on the loose.
Gun sales in Southern California soared.
Time after time, on radio talk shows, callers remarked that they’d like to see the torture-killers run smack-dab into a guy like Neal Darden.
2.
Neal’s funeral was to take place near the home of his parents in Larkspur, some four hundred miles north of Los Angeles.
Marta and Sue decided to avoid it.
Neither of them had ever met his parents, and this didn’t seem like a good time to introduce themselves.
Particularly since the services were certain to be mobbed by gawkers and the press.
They were also worried about the police. Rumors floated about that females as well as males may have been involved in the Brentwood slayings. Though nobody seemed to be suggesting a link between Neal and the homicides at the Conrad house, the police might be keeping quiet about a few things. Marta and Sue thought it could be risky to show up at Neal’s funeral.
Especially since pictures were sure to be taken.
Pictures were taken, all right.
CNN carried live coverage. The funeral was covered on the nightly news by every network. Within a day or two of the funeral, A Current Affair, Hard Copy, and American Journal all devoted stories to Neal.
Though some of his neighbors were interviewed for the magazine shows, nobody seemed to know the name of his mysterious girlfriend who apparently worked for an airline.
One of Neal’s neighbors, a young woman named Karen who lived down the block, told an interviewer that she’d known Neal well. ‘He was such a sweetheart,’ she said, blinking tears from her eyes. ‘I’m going to miss him.’
‘That must be the gal he slugged,’ Sue said.
‘The one who gets it on with her brother?’
‘Yeah, that’s gotta be her. Lyin through her teeth.’
‘Who says she’s lying?’ Marta asked. ‘Maybe she really does think Neal’s a sweetheart.’
‘Reckon it’s possible. To know him was to love him.’
3.
One night, after brushing her teeth, Marta entered the bedroom and found Sue crying. The bedside lamp was on. Sue was covered to the waist by a sheet. Her back was bare, her face buried in a pillow.
Seeing the bracelet on her right upper arm, Marta thought at first that she might be away on a body ride. Ever since Neal’s death, Sue had been using the bracelet again and again to escape from her misery. Maybe she was crying now in response to the grief of a stranger.
Marta lay down beside her, and gently rubbed her back.
Sue turned her head.
Not off riding, after all.
‘You okay?’ Marta asked.
>
‘I’m just sad, that’s all.’
‘Neal?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I miss him, too.’
‘I hardly even got to know him. It ain’t fair. Three days. That’s all we ever had. I figured we’d spend our lives together. But all we had was only just three days.’
‘I know,’ Marta whispered. ‘I know.’ She glided her hand up the smoothness of Sue’s back and gently squeezed her neck. ‘At least we’ll have his baby.’
‘Yer gonna have his baby, not me.’
‘Maybe you’ll have one, too.’
‘I ain’t gonna hold my breath.’
Trying to smile, Marta said, ‘You might try holding it till after you get your next period.’
‘I want Neal.’
‘Come here,’ Marta whispered.
Sue turned onto her side, and Marta slid in against her. As they held each other, Sue continued to cry. Marta cradled her head with one hand. With the other, she stroked her back. Sue’s tears soaked through the chest of Marta’s nightshirt.
After a while, Marta said, ‘Maybe he is inside one of us.’
‘I sure hope so.’ Sue sniffed. ‘I think about it all the time.’
‘Me, too.’
‘I . . . I talk to him, you know? In my head. Do you do that?’
‘I sure do.’
‘But he don’t answer.’
‘I know,’ Marta said. ‘But he can’t.’
‘Wish he would, anyhow.’
‘Wouldn’t that be great?’
‘Do ya look at yerself in mirrors?’ Sue asked.
‘So he can see me? Sure. I do a lot of stuff like that. Thinking maybe he’s in there. Yesterday, I danced naked in front of a mirror.’
‘Did ya?’ Sue sniffed again. She no longer seemed to be crying.
‘For Neal. In case he’s in me.’
‘What else have ya done?’
Shrugging, Marta felt the wet place on her nightshirt pull at her breast.
‘Fool around with yerself?’
Marta blushed. ‘Hey.’
‘I do. Wanta keep him happy.’
‘I know.’ Marta said.
‘You do it, too?’
‘Yeah.’
Sue laughed softly. Her breath felt hot through Marta’s nightshirt. ‘One thing for sure, he ain’t in both of us.’
‘Not likely.’
‘So either you or me’s goin to a lotta trouble for nothin.’
‘Maybe both of us,’ Marta told her.
Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Marta wished she hadn’t said it. She held Sue gently against her.
Then Sue said, ‘Sometimes, I’d swear he’s in me. I can feel him inside. Makes me feel real good, and I don’t even miss him for a spell. Only thing is, then I get to thinkin how maybe he ain’t in me, after all – and how I’m just pretendin he is.’
‘I know. That happens to me, too.’
‘Like I’m kiddin myself.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Then I feel just so empty and lonesome . . .’
Marta lowered her face down against the tickle of Sue’s hair, and kissed the top of her head. ‘It’s all right,’ she whispered.
‘It ain’t that I don’t love you.’
‘It’s all right.’
‘It’s just . . . I miss Neal so bad.’
‘I do, too,’ Marta whispered.
‘If I only just knew for sure about him . . .’
‘I’ll do it,’ Marta said.
Sue stiffened slightly, raised her face and met Marta’s eyes. ‘Will ya?’
‘If you’re sure you really want me to.’
She suddenly smiled. ‘Yer the greatest!’
‘I know.’
Letting out a soft laugh, Sue rolled onto her back and slid the bracelet down from her upper arm. ‘Y’always said ya’d never do it.’
‘I changed my mind.’
Sue pulled the bracelet off her hand.
Marta took it and stretched out on her back. She slipped the gold, coiled snake over her bandaged right hand.
Sue, turning onto her side, propped herself up on an elbow. She had a wonderful eagerness in her eyes.
‘Just try not to be too disappointed if I don’t find him in you,’ Marta said.
‘C’mon and do it.’
‘You haven’t found him in me or anyone else you’ve tried,’ Marta reminded her.
‘Not yet, but I’ll keep lookin.’
‘All I want to say is, it doesn’t prove much. Even if he is inside you or me, maybe it’s impossible to detect him.’
‘Well, see if ya detect him in me.’
‘Just . . . he might be in you, even if I don’t find him. Remember that. So don’t . . . abandon your belief. Okay?’
‘I won’t, I won’t. C’mon and do it!’
‘All right. Here goes.’
Marta took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then raised her hand above her face and kissed the bracelet.
4.
Sue smiled as Marta’s arm flopped to the mattress.
‘Howdy,’ she greeted Marta in her mind. ‘How ya like it in here?’
She expected no answer, and didn’t get one.
‘Any sign of Neal? Well, take yer time. Scout around. No hurry. Just relax and enjoy yerself.’
See how she likes this, Sue thought.
Getting to her knees, she straddled Marta’s hips.
‘Look how beautiful y’are.’
Maybe they’re both in me right now, she thought. Looking down at Marta with my eyes, both of them in on everything I think, both of them feeling everything I feel.
Or maybe it’s only just Marta.
‘How ya doin? Have ya run into Neal yet? If yer in there with her, Neal, howdy. Hope yer havin a good time.’
Wish I was in there with ’em.
Nah, this is better. This way, I’m in charge of the fun.
It suddenly occurred to her that Marta probably hadn’t found Neal.
Would’ve come out and told me.
‘He ain’t in there, is he? Never mind. Just stay put, okay? This here’s yer first body ride, and I aim to make it a good one for ya.’
She bent down and gently kissed Marta on the lips.
‘How’s it feel to kiss yerself? Weird, huh? I was in Neal one time, he did this sorta thing to me. It’ll be great. Don’t come out. Just relax and enjoy yerself.’
Sue sat up and scooted backward. Kneeling above Marta’s thighs, she grabbed the nightshirt with both hands and tugged it up. It took her a while, but she finally managed to remove the nightshirt entirely. She tossed it aside.
Now Marta was naked under her.
They both were naked.
‘Look at ya now,’ Sue said in her mind, and roamed Marta with her eyes. She lingered here and there, giving Marta plenty of time to enjoy the view. ‘See how beautiful y’are?’
She bent down, put her face between Marta’s breasts, and pushed them gently against her cheeks. It was like having her face in a smooth, soft valley.
‘Oh, ya feel so good.’
I don’t have to tell her that – she can feel it for her own self.
Turning her face, Sue made her way with kisses up the side of one breast. At the top, she took the nipple between her lips. She flicked it with her tongue.
Marta moaned and started breathing hard.
‘Ya like this? Just relax. Whatever ya do, don’t come back. Not till we’re done.’
She released the nipple and licked it.
Marta squirmed underneath her.
Sue slid her cheek down the side of Marta’s breast, slid her lips up the other breast and sucked it deep into her mouth.
Marta shuddered.
And suddenly grabbed Sue under the arms and pulled her up and kissed her hard on the mouth. Her tongue thrust into Sue’s mouth. Her hands roamed feverishly up and down Sue’s back. She squeezed Sue’s buttocks.
Then she rolled over and Sue found herself on the bo
ttom. Marta squirmed on her, heavy and hot. Kissed her eyes, her mouth again. After pushing herself up a little, she slowly crawled backward and kissed the sides of Sue’s neck, her throat, her shoulders, her breasts. She lingered at Sue’s breasts, brushing them with her lips, licking them and sucking on them.
Sue thrashed and gasped and pushed her fingers through Marta’s hair.
Marta crawled backward a little farther.
She swirled her tongue around Sue’s navel.
And kissed her way down, and down.
Later, still sprawled on her back, Sue gasped, ‘Holy smokin mackerel.’
Marta, sitting across her hips, was panting for breath. Her hair was a damp tangle, her skin flushed and shiny. Drops of sweat fell off the tip of her nose, the end of her chin, and the nipples of both her breasts. They splashed softly onto Sue. Her buttocks felt slippery.
Though she looked as if she’d just finished running a mile or two, she smiled down at Sue and said, ‘I’ve been . . . wanting to do that for . . . a really long time.’
‘Well . . . Whew!’ Grinning, Sue reached out and picked up a pillow. She used it to mop the sweat off her face. ‘Want it?’
Marta shook her head.
‘Ya like to drip on me?’
‘Sure do.’
Laughing, Sue tossed the pillow aside. Then her laughter died. ‘Reckon ya didn’t find Neal in me,’ she said.
‘Afraid not.’
‘Well . . . I didn’t really figure ya would, I guess. But like ya said, it don’t mean he ain’t here. Or in you. He’s gotta be in one of us, don’t ya think?’
‘I’m sure he is,’ Marta said.
‘Oh, well.’
‘Oh, well,’ Marta echoed, and smiled strangely.
‘So anyhow, how’d ya like bein inside me?’
‘Not bad.’
‘Not bad? Up yers!’
Marta laughed. Then her face grew serious. Leaning foward, she put her hands on Sue’s shoulders. ‘You want the truth?’
‘Naw, just lie to me.’
‘The truth is, I wasn’t in you at all.’
‘What? Ya were fakin? But I saw ya kiss the bracelet!’