“Your car has an alarm?”
“Sure does. So if we go fooling around trying to break in, we’ll set it off.”
“Nobody pays attention to those things, anyway. Especially not on a night like this. They’ll just think the wind set it off.”
“So what do you wanta do, bust a window?”
“It’s an idea.”
“Forget it,” Toby said. “It’s Sid’s car. I take it home fucked up, he’ll kill me.”
“He doesn’t have to know we did it. You can tell him a branch blew off a tree, or…”
“No way.” Toby shook his head. “You think he’s gonna care how it got busted? He’ll say it’s my fault, no matter what.”
“That doesn’t sound fair,” Sherry said.
“Nothing fair about Sid.”
“Why do you put up with him?”
“I got no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Think so, huh? That shows how much you know. Teacher or not.”
“Is Sid your father?” she asked.
Toby shook his head.
“Stepfather?”
“Brother.”
“He’s just your brother? The way you talk about him, I thought he must be your mean old stepfather or something.”
“He’s my older brother.”
“And you let him run your life like—?”
Toby punched her in the upper arm. Yelping, she grabbed it with her left hand.
“He don’t run my life,” Toby said. “I run my life.”
“Sorry.”
“Just shut the fuck up.”
Clutching her arm, she steered with her right hand, blinked tears out of her eyes and kept her mouth shut.
“I guess we don’t go to your place after all,” Toby said. He sounded disappointed. “Fuck. I been wanting to see what it’s like inside. See your stuff, you know. I’ve tried to look through your windows, only the curtains are always shut too tight.”
“What windows?”
“The big ones in front.”
Her apartment, on the second story, could only be reached by climbing stairs to the balcony that overlooked the courtyard and swimming pool. Her front door faced the balcony—and so did the two big windows of her living room and bedroom.
“You’ve gotten into the courtyard?” she asked.
“Oh, sure. It’s not so hard. Know what? I’ve even used the pool a few times. Know what else? You’ve seen me down at the pool.”
“You’re kidding,” she muttered, feeling her gooseflesh return.
“Yep. You even said hi to me once. I was down by the pool in my swimming suit and sunglasses and hat and everything. Had a towel with me, and I was pretending to read a book. I looked just like I belonged there.” He chuckled. “Everybody thought I belonged there.”
“Terrific,” she muttered.
“You can get away with all kinds of stuff if you play it right.”
“Could you get us inside the courtyard tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah, but so what?”
“If you can get us that far, I can probably get us into my apartment.”
“Yeah? How? Bust a window?”
“The bedroom window’s just an old piece of crap with a broken lock. And there isn’t any screen on it.”
“You kidding me?” Toby asked.
“I’m surprised you never noticed—what with all your snooping and peeping.”
“I never tried to bust in,” he said, sounding offended. “All I wanted to do was look.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. I never wanted to do anything to you.”
“I guess that changed tonight,” Sherry muttered.
“Yeah. Well. What can I say? Opportunity knocked.”
That was me sending Duane to the store. I triggered the whole damn thing. Sent him to his death.
We get into my apartment, she thought, and I’ll trigger Toby.
“Should we go ahead and give my place a try?” she asked.
“Yeah. Why not? If you think you can get us in.”
“I’m pretty sure I can.”
“Okay, then. We’ll give it a try. But you better remember a couple of things. Like how you gave me your word you’d cooperate.”
“I’m cooperating, aren’t I?”
“So far. But you better remember something else, too. Remember what I do to people. If you don’t want to get anyone else killed, you better do everything I tell you.”
“Everything,” she said. “I promise.”
Midway down the next block, they came to her apartment building. Sherry slowed down, then turned onto the broad driveway.
“What’re you doing?
“We might as well park in my stall,” she said.
“I don’t know if that’s such a hot idea.”
“This is Duane’s van,” she reminded him, steering into the sheltered slot. “People are used to seeing it around here. Not that anybody’s likely to be up and around at this hour, anyway.”
Toby nodded and mumbled something.
Sherry stopped. She shut off the lights and engine, then pulled out the ignition key.
“Put it on the floor. We don’t wanta be losing that, too.”
She unfastened her seat belt, eased the straps out of her way, reached down between her legs and dropped the key to the floor.
“Stay put,” Toby said. “I’ll come around to your side.” He threw open the passenger door, eased it shut and walked toward the rear of the van.
Is this a test? Sherry wondered.
She sat still and waited for him.
With the point of his knife, he tapped against the window of her door.
She opened the door and climbed out.
“You go first,” Toby said.
Walking through the narrow space between Duane’s van and the Mazda parked beside it, Sherry pulled her blouse shut and tucked it under the waistband of her skirt. She felt bare skin down there where her underpants should’ve been.
“Front gate?” she asked, stepping out into the light and wind behind the parking spaces.
“Yeah.”
She turned toward the main entrance. The wind huffed in her face, flapped her blouse and skirt, tossed leaves against her legs. She clenched her blouse shut with one hand. With the other, she pressed her skirt against her thigh.
Toby, walking beside her, leaned into the wind and tried to keep his robe from flying open. He could use only his left hand; his right was hidden inside the robe, keeping his knife out of sight.
Sherry saw no cars coming. She saw nobody out for a stroll or a jog, nobody walking a dog. No bums were skulking about or trudging along behind shopping carts.
Fine, Sherry told herself. It’s just as well. I might be tempted to make a break, yell for help…
It would be nice, she thought, for a cop car to come along right about now.
That happens, I’ll take the risk.
She stepped into the recessed area of her building’s entryway. Sheltered from the wind, she leaned back against the stucco wall.
Toby walked past her. At the gate, he tried the handle.
“It locks automatically,” Sherry said.
“I know. Just thought I’d check.”
He came over and stood in front of her. “Hold this,” he said. He took off his robe and handed it to her. But he kept the butcher knife.
“What are you going to do?” Sherry asked.
“Go over the top.”
She frowned at the double doors of the gate. Between the iron top rails and the ceiling of the entryway, she saw a narrow space. “You can’t get through that,” she said.
“Wanta bet?”
“Is that how you sneak in?”
“Sometimes. When nobody’s around. I’ve got lots of ways.”
Up on top, it would be a tight fit for Toby. Sherry supposed it was possible for him to squeeze through—if he really sucked in his gut—but the struggle was bound to take him a while.
r /> If she waited till just the right moment, she could probably make a clean getaway.
Run like hell for the van. I know right where the key is.
“Let’s see you do it,” she said.
Toby grinned strangely. “You know what?” he said. “When I’m up top trying to get through, I bet you’ll try and run off.”
“I won’t,” she said. “I promise.”
“Know what?”
“What?”
“Two-eight-three-two Clifton.”
Once again, she felt herself collapsing inside.
“Know who lives there?”
She nodded.
“So do I.”
“My God,” she muttered.
“What do you guess I might do to your mommy and daddy and little sister if you run off and leave me?”
Stunned, she muttered, “I won’t go anywhere.”
“I almost hope you do,” Toby said. “Your mom’s almost as pretty as you, and Brenda…Mmmm, Brenda.” Still grinning, he spread his arms and looked down at himself. “Look at that! That’s what happens just thinking about her.”
You’ll never get the chance, you sick fuck.
“Just shut up and climb the damn gate,” Sherry said.
Chapter Twenty-four
Here came his left hand. It clutched Sherry’s throat and shoved her head against the stucco wall. Down low, the knife punched through the front of her skirt then hit the stucco. He pulled it straight upward between her legs, the point scraping the wall, her skirt rising.
Sherry flinched and dropped the robe when the steel edge touched her.
“Say you’re sorry,” Toby whispered.
“I’m sorry.”
“How sorry?”
“Very sorry.”
The knife moved upward. Gasping, Sherry tried to rise to her tiptoes but the hand at her throat kept her pinned to the wall.
“Are you ever gonna tell me to shut up again?” Toby asked, grinning.
“No.”
“You ever gonna try and order me around?”
“No.”
“You ever gonna try and run away?”
“No.”
“How would you like me to give it to you with my knife?”
“I wish you wouldn’t. But…whatever you want.”
“Good! You get an A-plus!” He lowered the knife away from her flesh. Then he jerked downward. Sherry felt a tug at her waistband, heard the rip of fabric, felt another tug as the knife tore through the hem of her skirt. Still clutching her throat, Toby said, “What’re you gonna do when I climb the gate?”
“Whatever you want.”
“I want you to just stand here. Don’t move a muscle.”
“Okay.”
He released her throat, then turned away and walked to the gate. Squatting, he reached between two of the horizontal bars and set down his knife on the concrete.
Sherry felt warm dribbles trickling down her inner thighs.
Blood?
Toby straightened up. Head tilted back, he seemed to be studying the top of the gate.
Sherry slipped a hand through the slit in her skirt. Though she felt no cut between her legs, wetness smeared her fingertips.
Reaching high, Toby grabbed the top rail with both hands. He jumped, pulling himself up, and slammed against the gate. It clanked with the impact. The fat of his naked body shimmied. He jerked up his left leg and managed to plant his foot on the knob.
Sherry took her hand out and looked at it. Her fingers were shiny, but not red. Just perspiration, she supposed.
With the knob as a foothold, Toby pulled himself up. He ducked headfirst through the narrow opening above the gate. His shoulders followed. Then all Sherry could see of him were his thick legs and a pair of sweaty, jiggling buttocks.
He squirmed sideways and swung his right leg up and hooked his thigh over the top.
He’s gonna make it, Sherry thought.
She latched her eyes on the butcher knife.
Though on the other side of the gate, it was near enough to grab if she crouched and reached through the bars.
Toby now had one leg on each side of the gate, his belly and chest pressing into the top rail, his back against the stucco ceiling of the passageway. He groaned and squirmed, struggling to squeeze through.
Do it! Grab the knife…
Or run and get the hell away from him!
Then he goes after Brenda?
Just stay put, she told herself. Don’t move a muscle. Not unless you’re sure you can kill him.
In her mind, she saw herself make a mad dash for the gate as Toby, straddling its top, squirmed in a frenzy and shouted curses and threats. She ducked and reached through the bars and grabbed the knife. Then she sprang up. But even as she drove the blade toward Toby’s bare flank, he dropped out of reach. He fell to the pavement on the other side of the gate and yelled, “Now you’re gonna get it! Now you’re all gonna get it! You and your whole fucking family!”
“Easy as pie,” Toby said.
The chance was gone.
He’d made it over the top of the gate and now stood on the other side, arms stretched high, hands still clutching the top rail. He was panting hard for breath. His body ran with so much sweat that he looked as if he’d just stepped out of a shower. But he seemed very pleased. His face, between two bars, grinned at Sherry. Lower, his penis jutted out, rigid and pointing at her face.
“Don’t forget my robe,” he said. He let go and backed away from the gate. “You were a very good girl, Sherry.” He squatted and picked up his knife. Then, swinging open the gate, he said, “Come on in.”
She followed his orders.
After easing the gate shut, Toby took the robe from her. He put it on, but allowed it to hang open. “You go first,” he said.
She headed for the stairway. In front of her, the swimming pool was dark but its surface shimmered with the reflections of several porch lights. She saw no one. She saw no lighted windows.
Is everybody asleep? she wondered. That hardly seemed possible. Even on a good night, some people probably had trouble sleeping, got out of bed to use the toilet or watch some television or read a book—or look out the windows. Tonight, with the wind moaning and squealing and slamming things about, plenty of people must be wide awake.
But she saw no evidence of it.
Let’s keep it that way, she thought. The last thing I need is anyone else getting involved.
She walked to the stairway. With Toby just behind her, she began to climb. The steps felt rock-hard under her bare right foot, soft and springy through the shoe on her left. Neither footfall made any sound that might be heard through the raging wind.
The surrounding walls sheltered her from the wind until she reached the balcony. There, she felt it swoop down and muss her hair and huff against her face. It fluttered the front of her blouse. It spread her ripped skirt and flew in, hot and dry against her wet skin.
She didn’t bother trying to hold her clothes together. There was nobody to see, and the wind felt good.
Every window she walked past was dark.
And shut.
The doors were all shut, too.
She heard no sound from inside any of the apartments.
Everybody must be asleep, she thought.
And then she walked past a picture window and saw deep into a moonlit living room.
The curtains are open!
She glimpsed the dim shapes of furniture and a few tiny bright red numbers at the far side of the room. A clock or VCR, she supposed.
She looked away quickly.
Was anyone in there? she wondered.
Ronnie, maybe? Or Chris?
They were both flight attendants and worked unusual hours. One or the other of them might very well be awake.
Sitting in the dark, looking out, seeing us walk by?
What a sight we’d be, she thought. We must look like something from a nightmare.
If you saw us, just stay out of it. Please.
/>
Maybe they’re not even home, Sherry told herself. They might be away on flights, or on overnight dates, or on vacation somewhere.
If they’re home, Sherry thought, they probably would’ve closed the curtains after dark.
The picture window was now behind her. So far, Toby hadn’t mentioned it. He must’ve noticed it, though.
Just a few paces past Chris and Ronnie’s door, Sherry came to her own bedroom window. Set higher in the wall than the picture windows, its bottom sill was level with her chest.
Looking around, she saw only Toby.
“Go on and open it,” he whispered.
She turned toward the window, pressed both hands against the glass and tried to slide it sideways. Her hands slipped. The window stayed put. Reaching out with her left hand, she pulled at the edge of the frame while trying again to thrust the glass sideways with her right.
It still refused to move.
“You sure it’s not locked?” Toby whispered.
“It’s just a little stuck. Maybe you can get it started with your knife.”
He stepped in, shouldering her out of the way. With the tip of his knife, he delved into the crack at the window’s edge. He worked the blade sideways. The crack suddenly spread open wide enough for fingertips.
“That ought to do it,” he said. He stepped back.
Sherry dug her fingertips into the narrow gap. As she skidded the window toward the center, a gust flung the curtain inward and bells jingled. She cringed.
“What’s that?”
“Christmas bells.”
“Huh?”
“I hung some sleigh bells on the window. You know, so I’ll know if somebody tries to get in.”
“How come you didn’t just get the lock fixed?”
“I’ve had to get in this way a couple of times. And the landlord’s a creep. I don’t ask him for anything.”
“I could take care of him for you.”
She forced herself to smile. “Thanks, Toby. I might just take you up on that.”
“My pleasure,” he said. He switched the knife to his left hand, then gave Sherry a pat on the rump. After the pat, his hand cupped her buttock through the fabric of her skirt. “Go on and climb in. But don’t forget what happens if you try to pull something.”
“What do you want me to do after I’m inside?”
“Nothing. Just wait. I’ll come in right behind you.”