They stared down into the water.
Tony was there, hands still lashed to the patio chair, staring up at them from the bottom of the pool. Ingrid was there beside him, face down. One of her arms was stretched out, though Dani was sure they’d been at her sides when she threw the mannequin into the pool.
The hand of the reaching arm, probably urged by the currents of the filtering system, had found its way to Tony’s throat.
‘Let’s go back inside,’ Jack whispered.
They turned away, holding hands tightly, and walked toward the house.
32
‘HI MOM? . . . Yes, it’s me . . . Sure, I’m fine . . . I flew to Chicago . . . Yes, I’m coming home. I realised I was just being silly, running off like that. I mean, what are the chances the killer’d come after me? Yes, I love you, too. Give my love to Dad and Bob . . . I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Also by Richard Laymon
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Richard Laymon, Night Show
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