He climbed into his patrol car and drove to the Food King, where Charlie Dobbs had spotted Thelma yesterday. Outside its doors was a pile of pumpkins. Sam remembered buying one only a few days ago. He’d planned to carve a jack-o’-lantern this evening. Now, he doubted he would get to it. He wondered if Cynthia had a pumpkin. It would be fun, getting together with her and Eric to make jack-o’-lanterns. Maybe next year, he thought, hurting with regret.
Inside the store, he found the crew-cut manager behind a booth, okaying a woman’s check. He waited until the woman left.
The manager beamed at him. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m looking for information about a customer who was in here yesterday,’ he said, and handed over the photo. ‘Do you recall seeing her?’
‘Mmm. Say, isn’t this Thelma Boyanski?’
Sam nodded.
‘You say she was here?’
‘That’s what I heard.’
‘Golly, I haven’t seen her for years. Back in town, is she?’
‘Apparently.’
‘What a gal. I always wondered what happened to her. She used to be in here two-three times a week. Ran off with Babe Rawls, last I heard. Come back, has she? Well, doesn’t surprise me. She was a dope to step out on a guy like Dex. Must’ve finally come to her senses.’
‘You didn’t see her yesterday, though?’
‘Nope. But I keep pretty busy. Could’ve missed her in all the rush.’
‘Okay if I talk to your clerks?’
‘Help yourself.’ He gestured for Sam to follow. They went through a closed checkout aisle. Near the back of the store, a young man was stamping new prices onto coffee cans. ‘Paul, Officer Wyatt wants to ask you a few questions.’
Paul blushed. His chin was pitted and raw with acne.
Sam showed him the picture, and asked the question.
Paul looked as if he wanted to faint with relief. Sam wondered, briefly, what the clerk had done to cause such guilty responses. Probably nothing more than an illegal U-turn a week ago.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in here,’ Paul said.
‘Have you seen her someplace else?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
The manager squinted at Paul, and turned away. They walked down the aisle. ‘Wonder what that boy’s got on his conscience?’
‘Hard to say,’ Sam said.
‘You see how he looked? He looked as guilty as Judas. Like he thought you’d put him under arrest. I wonder if maybe he hasn’t been taking home some merchandise in his pockets.’
‘Could be. Plenty of folks do. I wouldn’t suspect him, though, just because he got flustered. We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of, and wouldn’t want the police to know about.’
‘Think I’ll keep on eye on him, just in case.’
Half a dozen people waited in the ‘Express Line.’ Sam smiled at two of the women he recognized. Then he turned his eyes to the manager, who was speaking quietly to the checkout girl. The ‘girl’ was pushing fifty. She had a lean, tough look. She glanced at Sam, one eye squinting, and nodded. She mouthed a silent, ‘Over here.’
They left the manager at the cash register, and stepped over to his deserted booth.
‘What’s your pleasure?’ she asked. Her voice wasn’t low and harsh, as Sam expected. It was a high-pitched, musical voice.
‘I’m looking for this woman.’ He gave her the photo.
‘Oh?’
‘I heard she was in here yesterday.’
‘She most surely was,’ lilted the clerk. Her plastic nametag read, ‘Louanne.’
‘You saw her?’
‘With my own eyes. She didn’t look exactly this way. Wears her hair up, now, and it’s more a dishwater color. Thinner, too. But I saw her, no mistake about that.’
‘Did she go through your line?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Did she pay with a check?’
Louanne fingered her upper lip. ‘No, not with a check.’
‘She paid cash?’
The clerk grinned. ‘Didn’t do that, either. You’ll never guess.’
‘I give up.’
Her eyes sparkled. ‘This lady didn’t pay for her groceries, at all. I saw a man slip the money into her hand while they stood in line. He did it just as slipper as you please, sneaking it to her ’cause he didn’t want nobody spying. I just happened to see him, though. I like to keep my eyes open.’
‘Do you know who the man was?’
‘I surely do. And it seems mighty strange for a good-looker like this gal to run around with a toad like him.’
‘A toad?’
‘It was Elmer Cantwell.’
‘Elmer Cantwell?’ An odd match, all right. ‘That’s hard to believe.’
‘I had to pinch myself, but it was him all right.’
7
‘Come on,’ Nate said.
‘Where to?’
‘You coming, or you just gonna stand there with your fist up your ass?’
‘Sure.’ Bill Kearny slammed his locker shut. ‘Where we going?’
‘You’ll see.’
They walked together up the deserted hallway, their sneakers squeaking loudly on the linoleum. Ahead of them, a classroom door opened. Miss Bennett stepped out. Setting down a stack of books and file folders, she glanced at Nate and Bill. She smiled a quick greeting, then turned away to lock her door.
Bill grinned at Nate.
Nate wiggled his heavy eyebrows, and rubbed his hands together.
They passed Miss Bennett, and turned a corner.
‘There’s one teacher I wouldn’t kick out of bed,’ Bill said.
‘Yeah? I’ll take Nelson any time. You seen the tits on Nelson?’
‘Nelson’s a cow.’
‘Yeah,’ Nate said. ‘Great udders. Let me at ’em! Wouldn’t mind Bennett, either, though. Get her alone sometime, you know, and slip her the ol’ dick.’
‘Do you think she does it?’
‘Fucks? Bennett? Are you kidding? A gal that looks like her? She probably bangs her brains out every night and twice on weekends.’
‘She wouldn’t do it with a kid, though.’
‘Who’s a kid?’
‘Us.’
‘Hey, maybe I’m just sixteen, but I’ve got a major league bat. A regular Louisville Slugger, man, and I hit a homer every time I get up.’
They trotted down a staircase to the first floor, and nearly collided with Mr Doons. They dodged away from him, and kept on walking.
‘Whoa there. Houlder, Kearny, back up.’
They came toward him, shrugging and grinning.
‘What’re you two doing in the halls?’
‘We’re on our way out,’ Nate said.
‘Sixth period ended twenty minutes ago. What’ve you been up to?’
Bill lowered his eyes, as if ashamed. ‘I had to stay after for Mr Fredricks.’
‘What about you, Houlder?’
‘I was helping Miss Bennett.’
‘Helping her how?’
‘Washing desks.’
‘I’ll just bet.’
‘Yeah. You should’ve seen what they wrote on those desks.’ Nate grinned. ‘Lots about you, you better believe.’
‘That so?’ He glared at Nate.
‘Very complimentary.’
‘I’ll just bet.’
‘Wanta hear one?’
‘Wanta tell me one?’
‘Sure, but you gotta promise not to bust me. I mean, I’m not the guy saying it. I’m just reporting what some other kid wrote on a desk.’
‘I understand that.’
‘And you promise you won’t bust me?’
Doons nodded. Bill didn’t like the man’s narrow, challenging eyes. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Don’t,’ Bill said. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
‘I want to hear it,’ Doons insisted.
‘Okay. Here goes. One said, “Doons eats poons.”’
His lips curled up.
‘How clever.’
‘And one said …’
‘Come on, Nate.’
‘“Doons sucks Miss Major.”’
The man’s face burned red. His nostrils quivered. ‘Cute,’ he muttered. His arms were stiff at his sides, his fists tight. ‘One of these days, Houlder, somebody’s gonna take you apart.’
Nate grinned as Doons took a step toward him. ‘I was only reporting …’
Doons’s straight arm barely moved from his side, but his fist knocked into Nate’s groin. Nate grunted. He doubled over, clutching himself.
‘What’s wrong with Houlder?’ Doons frowned at Bill as if perplexed. ‘Looks like your buddy hurt himself, Kearny.’ Laughing softly, he stepped into his office and shut the door.
Nate grabbed the edge of the drinking fountain to hold himself up. Words squeezed through his clenched teeth. ‘Stinkin’ rotten no-good mother-fuckin’…’
‘Can you walk?’ Bill asked.
Nate groaned as he unbent himself. He scowled at the closed door of Doons’s office. ‘Cocksuckin’ fag!’
‘Shhh.’
‘Let him hear.’
‘Come on, Nate.’
He took a step, and grimaced. ‘The bastard,’ he muttered. ‘You don’t fuck around with a guy’s tool.’
‘Let’s just get out of here.’
They took a few steps up the hallway. Then Nate turned around. Walking backwards, he yelled, ‘Doons eats shit!’
Doons’s door swung open.
Nate and Bill dashed up the hallway, the slap of their sneakers echoing. They dodged to the left. Picking up speed, they crashed open the main doors, burst outside, and hurried down the concrete stairs.
They ran along the faculty parking lot.
Miss Bennett, arms loaded, was walking toward them. Apparently, she’d left school by the north wing exit.
Instead of stepping aside to let them pass, she blocked the walkway. ‘Slow down, boys,’ she said. ‘No ru …’ Quickly, she sidestepped.
Nate adjusted his course, and plowed into her. She flew backwards, books exploding from her arms. A hedge caught her behind the legs. She tumbled over it. Nate kept running.
Bill stopped.
Miss Bennett lay on her back behind the hedge; trying to free her upraised legs from the bushes. One of her loafers had come off. She was wearing green knee socks. Bill glanced at her bare thighs, and her pink panties. She quickly flipped her skirt down. Her eyes met Bill’s, and he saw they were awash with tears.
‘Gee, I’m sorry. Are you okay?’
‘No.’ She tucked the skirt between her thighs. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘Here.’ He lifted her left foot out of the bushes. Holding it up, he saw that the underside of her leg was scratched and bleeding. He picked up her other foot, and pushed them both sideways. Miss Bennett twisted on her back, and brought her legs down.
‘Thank you,’ she said in a small voice.
‘I’m awfully sorry.’
She stood up. Lifting the rear of her skirt, she looked back at the damage. ‘That’s a nice friend you’ve got.’
‘He was mad.’
She sniffed, and wiped her eyes dry with the back of her hand. ‘Mad, huh?’
‘Doons punched him in the nuts.’
Her blue eyes locked into Bill’s. ‘He what?’
‘Doons smashed him right in the balls. With his fist.’
‘You’re kidding,’ she said.
‘Honest. That’s why Nate was so mad.’
‘He was running at a pretty good clip for a guy who’d just been socked in the groin.’
Bill shrugged.
Miss Bennett squatted down, and began to gather the spilled contents of her handbag.
‘Here’s your shoe,’ Bill said, and dropped the loafer over the hedge.
‘Thanks.’
While she picked up what had fallen on her side of the bushes, Bill went after the books and file folders along the walkway. He stacked them neatly. Miss Bennett walked around the far end of the hedge, and came up the sidewalk toward him.
She was beautiful. Not very old, either – not for a teacher. Maybe twenty-four, twenty-five. As she walked forward, Bill remembered the look of her bare legs. And her pink, nearly-transparent panties.
… slip her the ol’ dick.
He felt a warm swelling, and held the books in front of himself to hide the bulge in his jeans.
‘I’ll take your stuff to your car, if you want,’ he said.
‘All right. Thank you.’
‘You want me to take those?’ He nodded toward the four books in her arms, clutched just below her breasts.
‘No, I’ve got ’em.’
They walked, side by side, across the nearly deserted parking lot.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
‘Bill.’
‘Bill what?’
Is she gonna report me? ‘Kearny.’
‘I’m Miss Bennett.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Bill, you seem like a pretty nice guy.’
He smiled uncertainly.
… a pretty nice guy, and I’d like to know you better. Why don’t you come on home with me …?
Unreal, like one of those dreams. Couldn’t happen.
He was right.
‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘you could get messed up if you keep running around with a guy like Nate Houlder. I’ve heard a lot about him, and none of it’s good.’
‘He’s not so bad.’
Miss Bennett gave him a direct look, then set her books on the roof of a white Omni. He expected her to keep at him, keep hammering the way adults always do. But she said nothing more. She took the keys from her handbag, and opened the car door.
‘Well,’ Bill said, ‘I’ll think about it.’
She smiled. ‘You get going, now. And thanks for helping me.’
‘Oh, you’re welcome. I’m just sorry you got hurt.’
He stepped backwards, smiling and nodding. Then he turned away. He crossed the parking lot. At the walkway, he looked around. Miss Bennett, still standing beside her car, was folding a ragged, red towel. She bent into the car, and spread her towel on the seat.
Doesn’t want blood on the upholstery, Bill thought.
She looked at him.
Bill nodded, and started walking. He took three steps, glanced back, and saw Miss Bennett quickly lift the rear of her dress before sitting in the car.
That bastard, Nate.
Angry, Bill turned away. He walked toward the end of the building, and Nate stepped out from behind a telephone company van, clapping. ‘Hey hey hey, lover boy.’
‘She got all scratched up in the bushes.’
‘Aww.’
‘It’s not funny, Nate. You hurt her.’
‘Big fuckin’ deal. She’s a teacher.’ He suddenly scowled. ‘Hey, you better not’ve told her my name.’
‘I didn’t have to.’
‘It’s tough being a celebrity.’ Grinning, he pressed a fist to his forehead and flexed his biceps. ‘My reputation doth proceed me. So, Romeo, hows about heading over to my place?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Got something better to do?’
‘No. I’m just a little pissed at you.’
‘Yeah? That shows how dumb you are.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah, man, if you had any brains you’d see what a big favor I did for you, blasting Bennett on her ass. I saw you looking down at her, her feet in the air. Bet you saw enough to give you wet dreams for a month. You felt up her legs, too.’
‘I was helping her.’
‘Sure. Helping yourself, too. And kissing up to her like that, you probably impressed the shit out of her. Next thing you know, you’ll be slippin’ her dick.’
‘Shut up, okay?’
‘Is that gratitude?’
‘You hurt her.’
‘But I sure helped you. Now come on, let’s head over to my place and grab some suds.’
&nb
sp; ‘Yeah, all right.’
They started walking across the field. Far to their left, the football team was exercising: running in place, suddenly dropping facedown, scrambling to their feet again and pumping their knees until another signal came to drop.
‘Assholes,’ Nate muttered. ‘I could take down any two of those pricks. Blindfolded.’
‘Like you did Miss Bennett?’
‘You really got a hard-on for her.’
Bill shrugged.
‘Tell you what, Billy-my-lad. I’ll hold her down, you fuck her.’ With a laugh, he shoved Bill sideways and ran. Bill chased him until he was close enough to kick Nate’s trailing foot. It tangled with the other foot, and Nate plunged to the ground.
‘Aw jeez! Jeez, you’ve broke me!’ Nate grinned, and scurried to his feet.
A magazine in a brown paper cover propped open the lid of the mailbox on Nate’s front porch.
‘Hey hey, it’s Dad’s Playboy.’
He pulled out the magazine, and the rest of the mail. The lid banged shut.
‘Here, hang onto this stuff.’
He handed the mail to Bill, then dug into a pocket of his Levis and came up with a key. As he shoved it into the lock, Bill tried to slip the wrapper off the Playboy. The magazine bent, the wrapper came free, and Bill dropped half a dozen envelopes.
He bent to pick them up.
‘A letter for you,’ he announced.
‘Yeah? Who’s it from?’
Bill checked both sides. He found no return address. ‘Doesn’t say.’ He followed Nate into the house, and handed him the letter.
‘Can’t be nothin’ bad,’ Nate said. ‘Bad shit’s always got a fuckin’ letterhead in the corner.’
He tore an end off the envelope, and pulled out a sheet of triple-folded paper. He flipped it open and grinned. ‘Well well well, somebody in this armpit of a town has good taste.’
‘What is it?’
‘An invitation, my man. “Join the fun. Spook-house Halloween Party.” Sounds right up my alley.’ He scanned the sheet. ‘“Come in costume.” Maybe I’ll come as myself, give ’em a treat.’
In Nate’s bedroom, they drank two beers each, and looked at the Playboy. Nate commented on each picture.
Allhallow's Eve: (Richard Laymon Horror Classic) Page 4