“Did, too.” Owen stopped at the curb. On the other side of the street was the photo shop. “Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?”
“If you say so. Is that the place?” John asked.
“Yeah. Is your roll finished?”
“Yep.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a black plastic canister. “I’m all reloaded and everything.”
They crossed the street and entered the shop.
A man behind the counter looked up at them. He had no hair or eyebrows. He was too tall, too thin. He looked as if he’d been grabbed at each end and stretched by someone playful and malicious. “Help you?” he asked.
“We’d like to get some film developed,” Owen said.
John set the container on top of the glass counter. The man picked it up, opened it, and dumped the roll of film into his hand. His fingers were nearly twice as long as Owen’s. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Twenty-four color prints. I can take care of that for you.”
“We’d like two copies of each,” Owen said.
“Better make it four,” John said.
“Four?” Owen asked.
“Two for us, two for the girls.” Grinning, he said, “I promised ‘em.”
“That’s okay.”
“Four copies each?” the man asked. “That’ll run you.”
“That’s okay,” Owen said. “When can we pick them up?”
“When do you need them?”
“The sooner the better, I guess.”
The man glanced over his shoulder at the wall clock. Though mounted above a door, it was nearly level with his head. “I’d say I can likely have them done for you before closing time.”
“When’s that?” Owen asked.
“Six o’clock.”
“Ihat’s four hours,” John pointed out, glowering at the man. “Your sign says one hour developing.”
“You want four copies?”
“You telling me it takes four times as long?”
The man’s thin lips pressed together tightly and curled up at each end. “Might,” he said. “Might take longer. But I close at six, either way.”
“Six’ll be fine,” Owen told him, trying to sound especially friendly and sincere. “Really. We’ve got no problem with that. My friend’s a trouble-maker.”
“I ‘spent he is,” the man said.
Owen hauled out his wallet and removed a fifty-dollar bill. “I’d be glad to pay in advance.”
The man eyed the bill. He nodded as if agreeing with himself about a matter of little importance. “No need for that,” he said. “Come in here around five, maybe I’ll have ’em done for you by then.”
“Thanks. Thank you.”
Outside, John patted Owen on the back and said, “Well done, young fella.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Looks like we have some time on our hands. So, what’ll we do for the next three hours?”
“I don’t know,” Owen said. He crossed the street, John by his side, and headed south.
“Wanta go back to Beast House and scope out the babes for a while?”
“Not really.”
“What do you wanta do?”
“Actually, we don’t really need to... We could, like, each do our own thing and meet back at the photo shop at five.”
John laughed. “Trying to get rid of me?”
“No, but...I could use some time by myself.”
“What for?”
“Maybe I’d just like to be alone for a while.”
“So you can go to your room and freshen up?”
“I don’t have a room.”
“Ah! Okay. I get it. You need to find yourself a place to stay tonight, am I right?”
“I thought I’d drive around and see what’s available.”
“Good deal. Might I suggest the Welcome Inn? Best place in town. Plus it has all that history. I fully intended to stay there myself before my fucking radiator exploded. Get a room with two beds, and I’ll keep you company.”
Owen grimaced. “I really don’t want a roommate, John.”
“Sure you do.”
“No. I don’t. Really.”
“Come on. I’ve been sleeping in my car, man. It’s been a week since I took a shower. Anyway, it won’t cost you hardly anything. These motels, they charge you pretty much the same for two people as one.”
Owen shook his head.
“Come on, man. Do a guy a favor.”
“I’d like to have some time by myself.”
“You can have that any old time. I’m not asking you to marry me. Besides. You and me, we make a good team. You can use me. Look how I took those pictures for you.”
“I’m giving you a hundred dollar ticket for them.”
“But you’d never have the guts to take ’em like that yourself. You need a guy like me around. I can do stuff for you. I’ll do anything, man. Please.”
I’m never gonna get rid of this guy!
“I tell you what,” Owen said. “I want some time by myself.”
“Hey, but...”
“Listen! I don’t like all this pressure. If you want to use my room tonight, give me a little space. Right now, I want to get in my car and drive over to the motel—by myself. They might not even have any vacancies. And the more time I waste arguing with you....”
“Okay, okay. Go. I’ll find something to do without you.”
“Good. We’ll meet at the photo shop at five. After we get the pictures, I’ll let you know about tonight.”
John raised his hand. “See you there.” He stopped walking. They were still a half a block from the entrance to the Beast House parking lot.
“Fine,” Owen said.
“Fine. Go.”
“Okay.” Owen turned away from him and resumed walking.
He had an urge to look back, but he resisted it.
“Hey, Owen?” John called.
He looked around.
“Don’t forget it’s a midnight tour. You’d better get reservations for tomorrow night, too.” He held up two fingers and smiled rather sadly.
He was still standing in the same place on the sidewalk a few minutes later when Owen pulled out of the parking lot in his rental car and swung right onto Front Street.
John looked like a big, abandoned kid.
Owen slowed down and pulled over. He pushed a button to lower the passenger window. “Okay,” he called. “Come on.”
Crouching to see inside, John shook his head. “Thanks. But a deal’s a deal. You go on ahead and make your reservations. I’ll find something else to do till five.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You don’t need me hanging around all the time.”
“Okay. See you later, then.”
“See you, pal.”
Owen drove on. In the side mirror, he saw John standing on the sidewalk, watching him.
Not such a bad guy.
The beeping alarm on his wristwatch woke Owen up. He was lying on top of a bed. The room was almost dark, but a strip of sunlight came in through a gap where the curtains didn’t quite meet.
Still on his back, he raised his arm.
The luminous numbers on his wristwatch showed 4:30.
He shut off the alarm.
But he didn’t get up.
No big hurry, he thought. It’ll only take five or ten minutes to drive over to the photo shop.
I could even skip it.
No law says I have to go and pick up the pictures. I can just stay here. That’d be the end of my troubles with John, at least for today. Deal with him tomorrow.
Besides, what if Dana calls while I’m gone?
Turning his head, Owen looked at the telephone.
She might call any second.
She probably won’t call at all, he thought. She wouldn’t go out with a guy like me. Her date’s with somebody else. A strong, handsome, suntanned jock.
Anyway, if she does call, the front desk will take a message.
Maybe she’ll just dr
op in.
He imagined her stepping up to the door of his motel room and knocking on it. In his mind, she was wearing her guide uniform. A couple of the top buttons were unfastened. “Just thought I’d drop by and see how you’re doing, Owen.”
“Would you like to come in?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” She stepped into his room and wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her body. “I know we just met,” she said, “but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about...”
Someone knocked on the door of Owen’s room.
He bolted upright, his heart suddenly thudding.
It can’t be Dana, he thought as he scurried off the bed.
No way. That sort of thing just doesn’t happen. Not to me.
Maybe this once...
He jerked open the door.
“Hey, pal, how’s our room?”
“What’re you doing here?”
“Look what I’ve got.” John held up a bag. “Mr. Cucumber got done with the pictures early, so I saved us both some time and picked ’em up.” He stepped into the room. “They cost me down to my last nickle, pretty near. But I figure you’ll reimburse me. Too bad you couldn’t get a room in the old wing.”
“They were all full.”
“Yeah, bet they go fast. Everybody wants to be in the section where stuff really happened. Guess we were lucky to get anything.” this was the last room available,” Owen said.
“I know, I know. I saw ’em turn on the No Vacancy sign right after you went in the office.”
“What the hell did you do, follow me?”
“Shit, no. You told me you were coming here. I just hopped into my buggy and sailed on over. Wanted to see if you’d get us a room.” A grin suddenly spread across John’s face. “And which one,” he added.
“Real nice.”
“But please note, I did not disturb you. I allowed you your space.”
“Yeah. Thanks a lot.”
John spread the curtains wide, and afternoon sunlight flooded the room.
“Not bad, not bad. A queen and a single, huh? Who gets the queen?” He sat down on the queen-sized mattress and bounced.
“I do.”
“I’m bigger than you. Don’t you think I should get the bigger bed?”
“No. I’m paying. And what makes you think I’m going to let you stay?”
“What’re you gonna do, throw me out? If you throw me out, I take these with me.” He reached into the bag and pulled out an envelope thick with photographs. “I’ve already taken a peek. They’re hot. That Dana, she’s a babe and a half.”
“Let me see.”
“Who gets the queen?”
“Oh, for the...”
“I can always leave.”
“You really are a jerk.”
“I’m the jerk with guts enough to take photos of your secret honey.”
“Okay. Fine. You win. Take the queen.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-five
WARREN’S PLACE
“You’re out of uniform,” Warren said as he met Dana in front of the ticket booth.
“Had a little mishap.”
“So I heard.” He smiled at her. For a moment, she thought he might reach out and take her hand. But he didn’t. “Sounds like the gal deserved what she got,” he said.
“Well, I didn’t exactly premeditate the attack. Talk about embarrassing . I wanted to crawl in a hole. And then the gift shop was out of my size. They were out of most sizes, for that matter.” She looked down at her huge, flapping T-shirt. It drooped over her shoulders. It hung down low enough to cover her shorts when the wind wasn’t flinging and lifting it. “I know I’m big, but this thing would fit Jabba the Hutt.”
“Looks good,” Warren said.
“Well, thanks.”
“Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
Staying by Warren’s side, she stepped to the edge of Front Street. Traffic was coming from both directions. Warren’s head turned from side to side as if he were watching a tennis match.
Glancing Dana’s way, he caught her looking at him. He smiled.
Then came a break in the traffic and they hurried across.
They stopped just short of the high, chain link fence in front of the Kutch property.
Dana stared at the house.
“Have you ever been in there?” she asked.
“Not in the house itself. I’ve trespassed on the grounds, though. I was hoping to get a look inside.”
“No windows.”
“I knocked on the door.”
“You knocked?
“Oh, yeah. I thought maybe I’d introduce myself to Agnes. I brought her a bouquet of flowers.”
“That was nice.”
“Well, you know. All women are supposed to love flowers. Agnes Kutch is apparently nuts, but she’s still a woman. Thought I’d try to win her over and maybe she’d give me a tour of her house. But she wouldn’t open the door. She doesn’t open it for anyone.”
“I’ve heard she’s sort of a recluse.”
“Sort of. It’s like she’s hiding in there. She has a remote system for opening the gate of her driveway. Whatever she needs, she orders it by phone and has it delivered. See how the porch is all enclosed? They leave the stuff inside and she gets it after they’ve gone.”
Warren turned away. Dana stayed with him. Together, they walked along the sandy patch between Front Street and the fence. “She can’t stay in the house all the time, can she?”
“Looks like she does.”
“She must pay her bills somehow.”
“Janice pays them. Everything is billed to Janice.”
“So, does Janice ever see her?”
Warren shook his head. “Not in the past four or five years. Nodody has.”
“How creepy.”
“Well, you can’t really expect someone like Agnes to be normal. When you think about what she’s been through.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Dana said.
“Amazing she survived,” Warren said. “Here. Up this way.”
They headed to the left up a narrow lane of asphalt. The road was cracked and pitted. Grass and dandelions grew in some of the fissures.
“Going nuts was probably her way of coping with it,” Dana said.
“I guess you either go nuts or kill yourself.”
As they walked along, Dana looked over at the Kutch house.
She imagined a withered, hunched old crone lurching through its blue-lit rooms. “What kind of life could she have in there? What does she do all day?”
“God knows,” Warren said.
“Glad Idon’t.”
“An advantage of not being God.”
“I wonder if she’s got a T.V.”
“Last time Janice was inside, she didn’t.”
“And all the lights are blue?”
“I thought...”
“They were blue. Back when everything happened. But Agnes switched over to red lights a year or so later.”
“I hadn’t heard about that. Do you think she was trying to cheer the place up?”
Laughing softly, Warren shook his head. “If that was the idea, I guess it didn’t work. Janice said it was like looking at the world through blood-colored glasses.”
“You’d think she would’ve appreciated the change.”
“Janice? You’d think so, but she didn’t.”
“I can’t even imagine her going into the Kutch house. After what happened to her in there?”
Warren met Dana’s eyes, then quickly looked away and said, “Neither can I”
For a while, they walked up the lane in silence. Dana heard the squeals of seagulls. The wind hissed through the nearby trees.
It seemed to be blowing much stronger as they neared the ocean. It flung Dana’s hair. It pricked her legs with flying sand. It flapped her T-shirt, sometimes pressed the thin fabric against her body, other times blew underneath it and billowed it out.
Once, the wind flung her T-shirt up as if to show Warren her bra. While the shirt was up, sharp bits of sand blasted against Dana’s belly. She pulled her T-shirt down, then switched the purse strap to her other shoulder so it crossed her chest like a bandolier. The wind was no match for the leather strap.
“Would you like to go to the beach for a while?” Warren asked. “Or straight to my cabin?”
“How about your cabin?”
“Good idea. Awfully windy today.”
“I noticed.”
When they came to a long row of rural mailboxes, Warren opened one and pulled out a handful of envelopes and catalogs.
He shut it, then nodded to the right at a side road. Narrow and unpaved, the lane stretched off into a shadowy, wooded area. “This way,” he said.
The trees kept most of the wind out. Dana could feel the heat again. The road, dim with shadows, was littered with bright dabs of sunlight. Pine needles crunched softly under her shoes. The air smelled of Christmas trees.
“I like it in here,” she said.
“It’s not L.A., is it?”
“Makes me wonder why I live there.”
“Why do you?”
“I don’t know. I grew up in L.A. My parents live there. Most of my friends, too. I’ve thought about moving away, but...there’s so much I’d miss. Earthquakes, riots, fires, floods, the late-night crackle of gunfire.”
Warren laughed.
“I really do like the restaurants and movie theaters. And the beach.”
“I hear you’re a life guard.”
“I’ve been a life guard.”
“Just like Bay Watch, huh?”
Grinning, she said, “Oh, yeah. It’s me and Mitch. Actually, my life guarding has mostly been confined to swimming pools.”
“You didn’t feel like doing it this summer?”
“I liked the idea of coming up here. And I hadn’t seen Lynn in a while.”
“Well, she has a pool. You can life guard her.”
“Right! She needs it.”
She really might need it, Dana suddenly thought. She’ll probably go out there tonight with or without me, no matter who might be lurking around.
What if something happens to her?
“You really do need to keep an eye on her,” Warren said. “She’s...maybe a little too daring for her own good.”
“Oh, yeah, I know. More guts than sense.”
“Here’s my place.” He nodded toward a log cabin off to the left. It had a screened-in porch along the entire front, and a large stone chimney at one end. Sunlight coming down through the trees dappled the cabin and yard with gold. The yard was forest floor: pine needles and cones, twigs, rocks, saplings and scattered trees.
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