52
HEAD GAMES
It worked out well. With Elroy sprawled on the driveway, Steve was spared the extra chore of lifting him off the trunk.
I waited near the side of the car while Steve unlocked the trunk. As the lid swung up, he stuffed the keys into a front pocket of his shorts. Then he turned around, picked up Elroy, carried him over to the trunk and dropped him in. The car squeaked and rocked a little. Steve slammed the lid shut.
“Shall we be off?” he asked.
“Not quite yet,” I said. “We’re missing something.”
He grinned. “I suppose we’d forget Elroy’s head if it weren’t attached.”
“Let’s go get it.”
Worried that Steve might try to shut me out of the house, I stayed ahead of him, walking backward all the way to the front door.
I’d liked it better when he had his arms full.
In the foyer, I said, “Let’s make a stop in the kitchen, first.”
For that, I let him take the lead.
As we entered the kitchen, he warned, “Careful of the broken glass.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome. What are partners for?”
I stepped around the glass. “We’re not partners.”
“Maybe not yet. But soon.”
“Yeah, sure.” I spotted my own keys near the end of the counter, exactly where I’d left them after coming into the house with Elroy. “Step over to the right,” I said.
Steve followed instructions. When he was out of my way, I walked toward the counter.
“Need your keys?” he asked.
I didn’t bother to answer.
“Which hand will you pick them up with?” he asked. “The one with the cord, or the one with the sword?”
“This may work,” I said. Then I tucked the plug under my right armpit. I clamped my upper arm tightly against my side to hold it there. “Now if the cord gets away from me,” I said, “I’ll just have to chop your head off.”
“Hey, we’re a team,” he said. “Get your keys. I won’t try anything.”
Watching him closely, I sidestepped to the counter and used my left hand to pick up the key case.
He watched me closely as I slipped the case down inside the front of my panties. The leather felt smooth and cool. “Lucky keys,” he muttered.
“Shut up,” I said. “Let’s go get Elroy’s head.”
Being careful again to avoid the broken glass on the floor, we left the kitchen. From there, we had several possible ways of getting to the pool. I decided on the den door, mostly because I wanted to inspect the carpet damage.
The trail of blood started at the doorway of the guest bathroom and dribbled along the hall toward the den. Not great quantities of blood, but enough. Too much.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do about these stains,” I said, walking a few paces behind Steve. “They aren’t going to clean up. Damn you, anyway. I’ve been cleaning up after myself ever since last night. I’ve covered up everything. I’ve worn myself out, cleaning up and covering up and…What am I gonna do about this? There’s no way to make all these blood stains go away, you bastard.”
“Replace the carpet,” Steve suggested.
“Yeah, sure. You think my friends wouldn’t notice a new carpet?”
He grinned over his shoulder. “Come away with me, and it won’t matter.”
“No way.”
He entered the den. I followed him, pausing long enough to hit a light switch with my elbow. A lamp came on, and I saw the dribble of blood leading to the den’s sliding door. “I guess I could tell them I got cut and it’s my blood.”
“Excellent idea. You have such fine ideas. That’s one of the things I love about you, darling. Along with your…”
“Shove it.”
“So sorry.”
“Why’d you have do that with his head, anyway?” I asked.
“Cut it off, you mean?”
“And carry it through the house and roll it at me.”
He chuckled. “I was hoping to bowl you over.”
“You’re a sick f*ck,” I said.
“I’m a splendid f*ck, as you’ll soon learn.”
“Yeah? Has hell frozen over?”
As Steve neared the sliding door, I quickened my pace. I was about one stride behind him by the time he stepped outside.
I glimpsed the stains he’d put on the glass last night.
Then I stepped out, let him walk ahead, and gave the cord a sharp pull. Its other end jerked his left leg backward. Yelping with alarm, he fell headlong onto the concrete. He caught himself with his hands, but seemed to land fairly hard.
“Just another guy falling for me,” I remarked.
On his hands and knees, he looked back at me. I suspect he might’ve been scowling, but I couldn’t see much of his expression because of the darkness.
“That’s a lousy way to treat your partner,” he said, pushing himself up.
“Knock off the partner crap.”
“If you say so.”
“We aren’t partners. We’ll never be partners.”
“We’re already accomplices,” he said. “In the eyes of the law.”
“I don’t plan for the eyes of the law to look in my direction. So just shut up about the eyes of the law and get in that pool and find Elroy’s head.”
“All right. Partner.” Steve took a few steps and halted at the edge of the swimming pool. Then he stood there, slowly turning his head.
Pretty soon, he said, “Oh, my.”
“What?”
“It’s gotten dark.”
“I noticed.”
“I can’t seem to locate the head.”
“It’s down there someplace.”
“Does the pool have lights?”
“Give me a break,” I said. Stepping closer to the edge, myself, I looked down into the water. It might’ve been a pool of black ink.
“Do you see his head?” Steve asked.
“No.”
“I suggest we try the lights.”
We didn’t seem to have much choice. “Okay,” I said. “They’re over here. Come on.” I gave the cord a small tug.
“Don’t do that.”
“I’ll do whatever I want. Let’s go.”
“Where?”
Using the saber, I pointed out the electrical panel on the wall behind the outdoor table. “You first,” I said.
He started toward it, and I stayed a few strides behind him, giving the cord plenty of slack.
The bag of tortilla chips and the margarita pitcher were still on the table.
“Shall we take a break for cocktails?” Steve asked.
“Keep going. Don’t touch that pitcher.”
“How about this?” he asked. Stepping around the table, he scooped up my bra with his bare right foot. It draped his foot like a huge red mask, flopping about but not falling off as he kept on walking. “Of course,” he said, “I prefer you without it.”
“Big surprise. You made me take it off.”
“But I’ll let you have it, now.”
“Don’t bother.”
He stopped at the electrical panel and flicked a couple of switches.
Lights suddenly flooded the patio. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the pool lights had come on, too. “That’ll do it,” I said.
“Excellent,” Steve said. Turning around, he swung up his foot and flipped the bra at me.
I snagged it out of the air with the saber. It slid down the blade until it met the crosspiece. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“Aren’t you going to put it on?”
“Maybe later.”
“It does look like your hands are full,” Steve said. “Would you like me to lend you a hand?”
“Let’s go get the head.”
I backed out of his way. He walked past me.
As I followed him, I lowered the saber. My bra slid down its blade and fell off. I stepped over it.
At the edge of the pool, I stood a couple of yards to Steve’s left. The water was brightly lighted, and looked pale blue because of the pool’s blue tiles. The hot night breeze ruffled its surface.
“Thar she blows!” he called out, and pointed.
Elroy’s head had dropped into the pool at the shallow end. But it hadn’t stayed there. It had wandered to the deep end, where it now rested under about twelve feet of water. It seemed to be face-down as if giving the drain a close inspection.
“Now we have a problem,” Steve said.
“Do we?”
“Who goes down for it?”
“You do.”
“Well, I don’t believe the cord is long enough. Not if you’re planning to stand here and hold it.”
“We’ll see. Move over that way,” I told him, and gestured to the right with my saber. “We’ll get as close as we can.”
We both walked along the edge until Steve was adjacent to Elroy’s head.
“We’re still not close enough,” he said. “The cord’s too short.”
“Go anyway.”
“If you say so.” With that, he suddenly dived off the edge.
Before he even hit the water, I was leaping out. I held the saber high in my right hand, the end of the cord low in my left. Feet first, I plunged deep.
Through a frothy curtain of bubbles, I saw Steve trying for the bottom. He was in front of me and lower in the water, nearly vertical, kicking and reaching. His shorts had almost come off in the dive. You could see a few inches of his butt crack. From neck to rump, his skin looked very pale and stark and wavery in the underwater lights.
Near his left ankle, his kicking flung the cord this way and that. But he still had slack.
And he still had slack when his right hand thrust down and clutched Elroy by the hair. Hanging on to the head, he curved away from the bottom and began to rise.
Which is when I tried to come up.
And couldn’t.
For one thing, the saber weighed me down. For another, I held the cord in one hand and the saber in the other, leaving no hand free to paddle at the water. Though I struggled to kick my way to the surface, I didn’t seem to be making any progress.
I didn’t panic, though.
I was in no danger of drowning.
Before letting that happen, I would empty my hands and swim to safety.
But what kind of safety would it be if I left the saber at the bottom of the pool?
Just let go of the cord, I told myself.
But I kept my grip on it.
You’ve gotta let go!
Can’t! He’ll get away!
Suddenly the cord jerked and nearly flew out of my hand. I squeezed hard and kept hold of it by the plug.
The cord began to tow me through the water.
After Midnight
Richard Laymon's books
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