Page 19 of The Beast House


  Whatever happened to them, she told herself, they won’t be any better off with me worrying.

  Besides, she didn’t know the girl at all, had only spoken briefly with the father when they checked in, had seen the mother just for a few moments last evening at the restaurant, and disliked Brian Blake.

  That shouldn’t matter, she thought. If something awful happened to them, you should be concerned.

  Okay, I’m concerned. Right now, I’m dwelling on them instead of thinking about myself and Abe. That’s concern. I hope they’re all right. There.

  What could’ve happened to them?

  Her mind suddenly filled with a picture of Maggie Kutch grinning, opening a red curtain to expose a display of Blake and the others, their mutilated bodies sprawled on the bloody floor of a room, Blake’s head torn from his neck, his open eyes staring at her.

  “God,” she muttered.

  Abe looked at her.

  “I got thinking about Blake and the others,” she explained. “I hardly even know them.”

  “‘Every man’s death diminishes me because I am a member of mankind,’” Abe quoted.

  “Do you think they’re dead?”

  “I have no idea, really. But I’d guess it’s a strong possibility.”

  “Do you think the beast…?”

  “If you asked Captain Frank, I’m sure he’d say Bobo’s behind it. I don’t know about that. But it’s pretty obvious that a lot of people get themselves murdered in this town.”

  “I can’t believe there’s actually some kind of monster.”

  “It’s been my experience that most monsters are human.” He opened one of the double wooden doors of the Carriage House, and followed Tyler inside.

  They stepped toward the deserted hostess station. The gooseneck lamp over its reservations book was dark.

  “Dinner?” called a teenaged girl rushing toward them from the dining area. Her brown hair was gathered into a ponytail. She wore a black skirt. Her white blouse was primly buttoned at the throat. “I’m Lois,” she said before Abe could respond. “I’ll be your hostess for tonight.”

  “The missing Lois,” Abe said.

  “No, I’m not the one who’s missing. It’s my cousin, Janice, and…”

  “Your father was looking for you earlier,” Abe told her. “I see he found you.”

  She rolled her eyes upward. “Oh, that. He found me, all right. Boy. Now I know how the slaves felt. Too bad Lincoln didn’t free me while he was at it. Anyway, you want a table for two?”

  “We’ll get back to you, Lois, after we’ve put away a couple of cocktails.”

  “Oh, you’re here for the Happy Hour.”

  “Then dinner.”

  “I could put you down now, if you’d like, and save you a nice table by a window.”

  Tyler smiled. In spite of Lois’s enslavement, she seemed eager to do the job well.

  “Okay,” Abe said. “How about two tables for two? We’re with some friends.”

  “I’d be glad to seat you together.”

  Tyler said, “Separate tables will be fine.”

  Abe gave the girl his name, and she entered it in the reservations book. It was the only name on the page. “Fine, Mr. Clanton. Shall I call you in about an hour?”

  “Perfect,” he said. “You’re very good at this. I thought your father planned to have you cleaning rooms?”

  “He made me do some this afternoon. What a drag. This is much better. This is kind of fun, I guess.”

  “Okay. Well, we’ll see you later.”

  They stepped around the partition and entered the cocktail lounge. Tyler looked immediately toward the corner booth they’d occupied yesterday. Nora and Jack were there.

  So was Gorman Hardy.

  “Damn,” she muttered.

  “And you without panties.”

  Tyler laughed. She felt herself blush, slightly embarrassed in spite of her pleasure that Abe was so aware of the fact. “He’ll never know,” she said. “Besides, I don’t think he’d be interested.”

  Abe patted her rump. “Any man would be interested.”

  Nora spotted them and waved. Hardy, after a glance over his shoulder, slid his pair of drinks to the end of the table and scooted off the seat. He remained standing while they approached.

  “Good evening, Tyler, Abe,” he said.

  Tyler nodded but made no effort to smile. Abe shook the man’s offered hand.

  She sat down and pushed herself sideways. The leatherette upholstery felt cool through her skirt, then warm when she passed over the place, near the center, where Hardy had been sitting. She moved over until the seat was cool again. While Abe slid in beside her, Hardy took a chair from a nearby table and planted himself at the end.

  “We were just talking about you,” Nora said.

  Wonderful, Tyler thought.

  “Yes,” Hardy told her. “It must have been a terrible shock for you, coming upon your former lover that way.”

  She narrowed her eyes at Nora, then turned to meet Hardy’s eager gaze. “It was not one of my better moments,” she said.

  “Let me extend my sympathy to you.”

  “Thanks.” With a feeling of relief, she saw the barmaid advancing toward their table.

  “What would you like to drink?” Abe asked.

  “A margarita, I think.”

  Abe ordered margaritas for both of them.

  “Be kind enough,” Hardy added, “to refresh the drinks of my other friends. And my own, of course.”

  A trifle premature, Tyler thought.

  Nora was only halfway through her first Mai-Tai, with her free second drink untouched. Jack had just started working on his second stein of beer. Hardy, lifting a stemmed glass, polished off his first martini. He left the olive, and reached for the second glass. His eyes settled on Tyler.

  “I am, as you’ve already surmised, writing a book about Beast House. I realize it would be painful to you, but if you’re willing to discuss your relationship with Mr. Jenson and your reactions to viewing his mannequin…”

  “I would not,” Tyler said.

  “If we could get together later for an interview…”

  His persistence made her seeth. “How’s your hearing, Mr. Hardy?”

  Nora drew back her head and stared at Tyler wideeyed as if amazed by the retort. Jack looked at his beer and seemed to be struggling against a laugh. Abe studied his folded hands.

  “I would be more than willing,” Hardy said, “to pay you for the trouble.”

  Abe spoke without looking up from his hands. “The lady said no.”

  “Would five hundred dollars change the lady’s mind?”

  “Five hundred dollars,” Tyler said, “would not.” She turned sideways, an elbow on the table, and stared at him. “In my opinion, any book you write about Beast House would be just as exploitive as Maggie Kutch and her goddamn dummies. I’ll have no part of it. In fact, since I’m not a public figure, my right to privacy is protected by law and if my name appears in your miserable book I’ll sue your ass.”

  Hardy smiled at the outburst. “All right, Tyler. You drive a hard bargain. I’m willing to go as high as eight hundred.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “A thousand.”

  Nora, looking distressed, said, “That’s your rent for three months.”

  “I don’t need it that badly.”

  “How about throwing some of that money my way,” Jack said.

  “I was coming to that,” Hardy told him.

  “Well, all right.”

  He shook his head at Tyler as if she were a stubborn child more to be pitied than condemned. “Are you certain I can’t persuade you to change your mind?”

  “Positive,” she said.

  The barmaid arrived with the drinks. Hardy took a bill from his wallet.

  “I’ll take care of ours,” Abe told him.

  “There’s really no…” Hardy started.

  “I’ll take care of ours,” Abe repeated in t
he same even tone.

  They each paid. The barmaid cleared off the empty glasses and left.

  Tyler’s hand trembled as she picked up her margarita. Abe turned to her. His face was solemn, but he winked and clinked his glass against hers. A few crumbs of grainy salt fell from the rim, sprinkling the backs of her fingers.

  “As I was saying,” Hardy’s voice intruded, “I have indeed been considering a proposition for you.”

  “Fire away.”

  Looking into Abe’s eyes, Tyler sipped her frothy drink.

  “As you know, my associate, Brian Blake, seems to have disappeared.”

  Frowning, Abe turned away. “Along with three other people,” he said.

  “That’s correct. And the police seem to have no clue as to their whereabouts. In fact, I was speaking to an officer only a short time ago. They’ve been conducting a search of the woods in the vicinity of the abandoned car, but so far they’ve come up with nothing at all. They suspect foul play, though I prefer to think that Brian and the girl simply ran off together and the parents went in pursuit.”

  “Your theory doesn’t hold much water,” Abe said. “You’ve written enough mysteries to see it’s full of holes.”

  Hardy shrugged elaborately. “Very true. If this were a plot, however, I’m certain I could devise a sequence of events to explain the apparent inconsistencies, to plug the ‘holes’ as you put it. Let me put it before you, instead, that I’ve been a close acquaintance of Brian Blake for several years. To say that he is a womanizer would be a gross understatement. I have no idea what might have befallen Janice’s parents, but the girl herself is probably, at this very moment, in a motel somewhere along the highway with Brian betwixt her thighs.”

  “Betwixt?” Jack mumbled.

  “Let’s hope so,” Abe said.

  “I suspect they’ll return eventually, but Brian once vanished for three weeks after meeting a young lady at the MGM in Vegas. I’ve told all this to the police, of course. They’re checking with motels along the coast. Unfortunately, I’m in no position to wait. I have commitments that require me to leave here first thing in the morning.”

  He nodded at Jack. “This is where you come in. Or you, Abe. Either of you men, I’m sure, would be more than capable of doing this little assignment. Brian’s responsibility, you see, was to photograph the interior of Beast House. He’d planned to do it tonight, but since he’s not here…”

  “You want one of us to do it,” Jack finished for him.

  “I’m prepared to pay a thousand dollars.”

  “Cash?” Jack asked,

  “Two hundred cash, the balance by check.”

  “Since you’re offering that kind of money,” Abe said, “I assume you don’t have permission from the owner.”

  “The Kutch woman won’t allow photos of the displays.”

  “So we’re talking about an illegal entry,” Jack said.

  “I shouldn’t think that would present a problem to a man of your background.”

  “A piece of cake.”

  Abe looked at Hardy. “This was supposed to be Blake’s job. Was he trying to break in and get those photos last night.”

  “No, no. In fact, he left the camera in his room. His disappearance, I’m sure, had nothing to do with our project.”

  “If you want the pictures so badly,” Tyler said, “why don’t you break in and take them yourself?”

  “I’ve considered that option, of course. The truth of the matter, quite simply, is that I would prefer not to. I admit the venture involves a certain amount of risk. I’m not as young as these men. For me, it would hardly be a “piece of cake.” That’s why I’m willing to pay such an exorbitant amount to have it done by one of them.”

  In other words, Tyler thought, you’re chicken.

  He took a sip of his martini. Then, smiling as if quite pleased with himself, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He removed two bills. Tyler saw that they were hundreds. “Do I have a volunteer?” he asked.

  Jack and Abe looked at each other.

  While they hesitated, Nora blurted, “Shit, I’ll do it.”

  Hardy chuckled.

  “You think I’m kidding? I can always use some extra…”

  “I’ll do it,” Jack said calmly. “No sweat.” He reached out and Hardy placed the two hundred dollars in his hand.

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Abe asked him.

  “Hey, a thousand bucks is a thousand bucks.” He grinned at Hardy. “You’ve got the camera, film, flash equipment?”

  “They’re back in my room. I’ll give you a check for the balance when you pick them up.”

  “What is it you want, exactly? Just pictures of the dummies?”

  “That’s basically it. I’ll require good coverage of each display, perhaps one long shot for the overview, and two or three from a closer range for details. I would also like the attic stairway and the attic itself, if possible. The nursery, if you’re able to unlock its door. And the cellar. The cellar is extremely important. According to my sources, you should find a hole in its floor. A fairly large hole, perhaps two or three feet in diameter. I would like both a long shot and a close-up of that hole, if it exists.”

  “Okay,” Jack said. “You got it.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Nora said.

  “No way, babe.”

  “Oh, come on. You’ll need a lookout, won’t you?”

  “I’ll look out for myself,” he assured her.

  “Please. I won’t be in your way. I’d like to see what that place is like at night. Bet it’s creepy as hell.”

  “You just stay with Tyler and Abe.”

  “Whether it’s dangerous or not,” Abe told her, “it is illegal. Better that you stay out of it.”

  She frowned at her Mai-Tai, then at Jack. “I don’t think I like the idea of you going in there alone.”

  “He won’t be going in alone,” Abe said.

  A chill crawled through the pit of Tyler’s stomach. She stared at Abe. He put a hand on her thigh. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I can take care of it myself,” Jack told him.

  “Sure you can. But you won’t let your buddy miss out on the fun, will you?”

  Tyler cut into her lamb chop. She forked a bite-sized piece and and stared at it. Her mouth was dry. She didn’t want to eat the lamb, or anything else.

  “I’m sorry,” Abe said.

  “I know. I’m sorry, too. That bastard.”

  “Jack?”

  “No, of course not. It’s not his fault. It’s that goddamn Gorman Hardy.”

  “I can’t let Jack go in alone.”

  “I know you can’t. I wouldn’t ask you to. But don’t you think there’s any way you can talk him out of it?”

  “A thousand dollars is a good piece of money. Besides, I’ve known Jack for a lot of years. He’s a guy who likes to take chances. He gets a kick out of it. Don’t let on to Hardy, but he could’ve got Jack to go in there for a six-pack of Dos Equiis.”

  “What if I give him a thousand dollars not to? I’ll let Hardy have his goddamn interview, and turn the money over to Jack.”

  “You’d do that,” Abe asked, “to stop him from going in?”

  “To stop you.”

  He looked down at his plate as if no longer able to bear her tormented eyes. “I’ll see if I can talk him out of it. I know he won’t take your money, though, so forget about giving that interview.”

  “Do you think he’ll listen?”

  “I could stop him, if I had to. But he’s my friend. I know how eager he must be to get in there. Right now, he’s probably hoping there is a beast just to make things more interesting.”

  Tyler peered across the dimly lighted dining room at the corner table where Jack and Nora sat. Jack looked like an overgrown kid, grinning as he shoveled steak into his mouth.

  “You think he really wants to do it that badly?”

  “I kno
w he does.”

  “What about you?”

  Abe raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you hoping there is a beast just to make things more interesting?”

  He stared at her with solemn eyes. “A lot of killing’s gone on in that house. Whoever’s behind it—or whatever—murdered Dan Jenson. I take that personally.”

  “You didn’t even know Dan.”

  “You loved him once. If his killer’s in that house and happens to come after me and Jack—well, it’ll even things up a little. I don’t expect that to happen, but if it does I’d be pretty damn happy about it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Janice’s wait in the black room seemed endless. She regretted breaking the lightbulb. She was glad to have a weapon, but the total darkness was bad. Some comfort came from the feel of the carpet under her rump and feet, the wall against her back. She even welcomed the pain of her wounds and the gurgling hunger growls of her stomach, for they helped confirm the reality of her body—a body she couldn’t see and sometimes doubted.

  Her hands roamed constantly over invisible, bare skin. Sometimes she stretched out flat to feel the carpet and the solid floor on the length of her. In that position the floating, disembodied sensations faded.

  Her mind wandered restlessly.

  What if nobody should come? What if they left her here to starve? She would die of thirst before starving. God, her mouth was dry. Her teeth felt like granite blocks.

  She hadn’t eaten since dinner last night. Breaded pork chops, white rice dripping with teriyaki sauce, iced tea. She wished she had a gallon of iced tea now. She would drink it straight from the pitcher, spilling some, letting it stream down her neck and chest.

  They’ll come, she told herself. Sooner or later. They wouldn’t have brought me here and bandaged me just to let me die. They’ll keep me alive for the beast.

  Oh God, the beast.

  But I’ll fool them. They’ll open that door and I’ll be out like a flash and cut them up if I have to, they won’t get me, they won’t take me alive.

  Or maybe the door will open and it’ll be Dad or maybe the cops. They must be looking for me. But they wouldn’t know where to look.