The Midnight Tour bhc-3

by Richard Laymon

  “What’s she look like?”

  "Tall and blond. And extremely beautiful.”

  “Right. The gorgeous one. Know just who you mean. Saw her yesterday, myself. A real honey. I got a stiffy just...”

  "Hey.”

  “Sure. Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you, pal. You want pictures of her, I’ll take pictures. They have to be nudes or something?”

  “Dont be a jerk. Just get me a few good snapshots of her. However you want to do it. Ask her permission, or do it on the sly, whatever. But don’t involve me, okay? Just act like you’re taking them for yourself.”

  "No problemo.”

  “I know, let’s take the audio tour separately. I’ll go first. Give me maybe a half hour headstart, then you come in and do the tour and take your pictures of Dana. When you’re done, I’ll meet you out front and we’ll take a look around town. Maybe we can find some sort of one-hour film developing place. Or maybe there’s a place that’ll do it overnight.”

  “Might be,” John said, and sipped some cola. “Wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Soon as I have my pictures of Dana, I’ll give you another fifty bucks and you can buy yourself a ticket for the Midnight Tour.”

  John nodded, looking pleased for a few seconds. Then he frowned. “What if they’re all sold out by then?”

  “Can you stick around and do the tour next week?”

  John wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know, man. A week’s a long time when you’re flat busted. Can’t we just go ahead and buy me the ticket now? Tell you what, we buy it now, then you keep it till I give you the pictures. How about that? Anything goes wrong, you can sell it to somebody else and make all your money back. Shit, you could maybe even scalp it and make yourself a profit. What do you say?”

  Owen wanted photos of Dana.

  “Sure,” he said. “It’s a deal.”

  “You won’t regret it, man. This is great! I’ll get you some great pictures of that babe.”

  They finished their meals. Then they hiked across the front lawn toward the ticket booth. Owen waited on the grass. John went up the walkway, spoke briefly with Sharon, then stepped out of sight. A few minutes later, he reappeared holding a red ticket. Sharon looked happy to see that he’d gotten it. They talked for a while, nodding and smiling. At last, Sharon had to hand out some tape players, so John strolled over to Owen.

  “Good thing we didn’t wait,” he said, waving the ticket.

  “This was the last one they had for tomorrow night.”

  Must be number thirteen.

  “Lucky,” Owen said.

  “Man, this is the luckiest day of my life. I’d give you a hug and kiss, only we don’t want nobody thinking we’re fags.”

  Owen tried to smile. “Wouldn’t want that.” He held out his hand and John gave him the ticket.

  “I get it back when you get the pictures of Dana, right?”

  “Right,” Owen said, slipping it into the shirt pocket with his own ticket. “Now, I’ll go on in and do the tour. Why don’t you spend a while over at the gift shop, or something?”

  “Maybe I’ll have me another burger. Can you spare a couple more bucks?”

  “Sure.” Owen took out a ten-dollar bill. "Take this and give me an hour headstart.”

  “A whole hour?”

  “Spend it eating,” Owen suggested, and handed him the ten.

  "You’re the boss.”

  As John headed for the corner of the house, Owen returned to Station One. Standing at the foot of the stairs, he put on his headphones. He pressed the Play button. Then he gazed up at the lynched body of Gus as Janice Crogan began to tell the story.

  Later, after listening about Ethel, Owen left the parlor and climbed the stairway. He looked up and down the corridor but didn’t see Dana.

  Never mind, he told himself. She’s probably up here someplace.

  He listened at Station Three, then shut off the player, stepped out of Lilly Thorn’s bedroom and walked up the hallway toward Station Four. Yesterday, he’d first seen Dana near the attic door.

  Today, some tourists stood there, listening to their tapes and gazing up the stairway.

  No Dana, though.

  Where is she?

  Up ahead, some people near the left side of the corridor wandered out of the way.

  Owen saw her.

  His heart seemed to lurch.

  She was standing like a casual guard just outside the doorway of the boys’ bedroom, nodding and smiling at the tourists who went by.

  The bedroom, Station Four, was supposed to be Owen’s next destination.

  I’ll have to walk right past her!

  He had an urge to turn away.

  Don’t be such a damn chicken, he told himself. Just keep going, act natural. She doesn’t know I have any feelings for her. I’m just another tourist.

  He moved slowly, stepping around several people, trying not to look at her.

  But as he neared the doorway, their eyes met.

  “Morning,” Dana said.

  "Hi.”

  “Back again, huh?”

  She remembers me!

  Blushing fiercely, he nodded.

  “Where’s your friend?” she asked.

  Owen pulled off his headphones. “My friend?”

  She must’ve seen me with John! Now what’ll...

  “The young lady who was with you yesterday,” Dana explained.

  “Oh, her.”

  I don’t want to lie. Not to Dana.

  “She didn’t like this place,” he said. “She kind of...kept complaining and ruining it. So today I came back without her.”

  “Ditched her, huh?”

  “Sort of.”

  Dana glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s about time for my break. You want to come outside with me?”

  “Outside? With you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Right now?”

  “If you’d rather not...”

  “No. No. I’ll come with you. Sure.”

  Dana took a walkie-talkie from her belt. Holding it in front of her mouth, she thumbed a button and said, “Lynn, it’s Dana. I’m going for a break now. Okay? Over.”

  A voice came back, “Knock yourself out, hon.”

  Dana smiled at Owen and said, “Let’s go.”

  He followed her along the corridor and down the stairway.

  In the foyer, she said to the male guide, “I’m taking off for a break, Clyde.”

  Clyde cast a quick, distasteful glance at Owen, then nodded to Dana.

  Owen hurried ahead to open the front door. Stepping out, Dana thanked him. He followed her to the bottom of the porch stairs.

  “Let’s go over here,” she said.

  As he walked beside her, the grass was silent and soft under his shoes. His heart pounded hard. Sweat dribbled down his sides. His mouth was dry. The morning sun seemed to press a hot weight against the top of his head and shoulders. But a fine, cool breeze blew against him. It fluttered his shirt against his chest and belly. It smelled as if it had come from a long way off, traveling low over the ocean waves. He took a deep breath and sighed.

  We’re walking together. This is so incredible.

  But what does she want?

  Just past the corner of the house, Dana stopped and turned to him.

  In the distance, people were strolling along the walkway between the ticket office and the front porch. Others, on their way to the eating area or gift shop or restrooms, were walking toward the far corner of the house.

  Dana and Owen had this section of lawn to themselves.

  “Nice out here, isn’t it?” Dana asked.

  “Fantastic.”

  He stared at her.

  I can’t believe we’re standing out here.

  I can’t believe how incredible she looks.

  Instead of revealing flaws, the bright sunlight seemed to highlight her beauty. Her hair glinted yellow and russet and gold. She had fine, pale down on her cheeks. Her eyes seemed a perfect match fo
r the light blue color of the sky.

  “What’s her name?” Dana asked.

  "who?”

  She frowned slightly. “The girl from yesterday.”

  “Oh. That was Monica.”

  “Where is she today?”

  He made a face. “I left her at the hotel.”

  "Here in town?”

  "At Fisherman’s Wharf.”

  “You left her in San Francisco?”

  “I know, I know. But she hated this place. She wouldn’t let me enjoy the tour. I’d been looking forward to Beast House for years. And she spoiled it for me. She had snotty cracks about everything.”

  “Including me, I suppose.”

  Owen gaped at her. He nodded. “How did you know?”

  She grinned mysteriously. “I know many things.”

  “Did you overhear her, or...?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice the way you were looking at me yesterday.”

  He felt as if his face might burst into flame.

  Cringing, he said, "Sorry.”

  “Oh, that’s all right. Fine with me. But it wasn’t exactly fine with Monica, was it?”

  "Not exactly.”

  "I think she was really steamed. In the house. And then when I was taking your players at the front gate. She looked like she wanted to rip my face off.”

  “She always blows everything out of proportion. I mean, I have to look at other women sometimes. You know? Or I’d bump into them.”

  Dana laughed softly. “So that’s why you had your eyes glued to me—to avoid a collision.”

  “Exactly.” Smiling, he added, “Plus...uh...because I couldn’t exactly help looking at you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You know.”

  “Right. I know. I’m too big to miss.”

  Owen laughed. “That’s not why. It’s because...I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

  Dana’s face suddenly turned scarlet. “Well, thanks. That’s very nice of you to say so.”

  “It’s just the truth. You’ve seen mirrors, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t look that great to me. Anyway, Owen..” She took a deep breath and said, “Back to you and Monica.”

  “If it’s optional, could we maybe skip it?”

  “It’s mandatory. To me, it is—since you came back today without her and I might be part of the reason why.”

  “Well...”

  “Also, I see that you’ve got tickets in your pocket for the Midnight Tour.”

  Nodding, he patted them.

  What’ll I say about the second ticket?

  “Tomorrow night’s tour?” Dana asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Monica hates Beast House. She also hates me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t...”

  “You’re probably not bringing her on the Midnight Tour.”

  “Nope.”

  “And you’re probably not planning a return trip to San Francisco before tomorrow night, are you?”

  “No.”

  “So you’re just leaving Monica alone in a hotel in San Francisco for a few days?”

  “I’m not really planning to go back at all.”

  “What?”

  “I left her. I snuck out of the room while she was asleep and...”

  “Good God. Didn’t say a Word?”

  “No way.”

  “Did you leave a note or something?”

  He shook his head.

  “She might think you got kidnapped or murderer or something.”

  “I doubt it. I took all my stuff with me. She’ll probably figure I took an early flight home. And she’ll know why, too.”

  Grimacing, Dana shook her head. “That’s an awful thing to do to someone, Owen.”

  “Yeah, I know. But she’ll be fine.”

  “She won’t be fine. She’ll be devastated.”

  He smirked. “You don’t know Monica.”

  “Any woman would be devastated if she’s on a trip with a guy and he disappears on her.”

  “Yeah, well. I know it wasn’t a nice thing to do, but she had it coming She was asking for it.”

  “Where’re you from?”

  “We flew up from Los Angeles. And she has her return ticket. She also has plenty of money and everything. She can probably fly home today if she wants to. Or she can just go ahead and enjoy the rest of the vacation without me. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it a lot more without me. All she ever did was whine about everything. I mean, you saw her. She’s horrible. And she thought she had me. She actually believed I was going to marry her. I had to get out before it was too late.”

  Dana kept grimacing and slowly shaking her head. “Were you engaged?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How long had you been going together?”

  “Since about Christmas.”

  “And you dumped her because of yesterday?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Because she ruined your tour of Beast House? Or did it have to do with seeing me?”

  Owen squirmed.

  “I was ready to break up with her before yesterday,” he said. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “So what was it about yesterday that made up your mind?” .

  “She was just so bitchy about everything.”

  “Did I have anything to do with your decision?”

  Go for it, man!

  He shrugged and said, “Sort of. It was like a combination of things. I wanted to come back and do the tour without Monica screwing it up, and I really wanted to take the Midnight Tour—she never would’ve let me do that. Any...I guess I was sort of hoping to see you again.”

  “You didn’t dump her because of me, did you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh, terrific, not really. Means maybe you did.”

  Owen cringed and shrugged. Unable to look at her, he lowered his gaze to the grass in front of his shoes. Then he said, “It’s, uh...not like I expected to go out with you or anything. I mean, someone like you...you’ve probably already got guys all over the place. Last thing you need is someone like me. But the thing is, looking at you? And, you know, we talked a little when you were taking the players back? The thing is, you’re like everything Monica isn’t. Everything a guy could ever ask for. And there I was, stuck with this sneering, snotty bitch. How could I throw my life away with someone like her when there are people like you in the world? You know?”

  “You’ve maybe got me overrated,” Dana said. Her voice sounded odd.

  Owen lifted his gaze.

  Dana’s eyes were wet and shiny. Frowning, she turned away.

  “I’d better get back to work.” She started walking.

  Owen stayed by her side. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And you don’t have to worry, I won’t hang around bothering you. I won’t ask you out or anything.”

  She glanced over at him.

  He tried to smile. “Not unless you want me to.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  Oh, my God! She’s going to think about it!

  “Where’ll you be staying tonight?” she asked.

  Wow!

  “I’m not sure. Probably the Welcome Inn, if they have a vacancy.”

  “You haven’t checked in yet?”

  “No. I was planning to go over and register after lunch.”

  “Where’d you stay last night?” she asked.

  “Fisherman’s Wharf.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’d already told me that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure you wern’t here last night? I I thought I saw you.”

  Smiling, he shook his head. “I wish I’d been here, that’s for sure. But I was with good old Monica having one of the most miserable times of my life.”

  Dana patted his back and said, “Maybe tonight’ll be better.”

  She touched me!

  Her hand had gone away,
but Owen could still feel warmth where it had patted him.

  Side by side, they climbed the porch stairs. Owen opened the door for Dana and they entered Beast House. Clyde was busy talking to someone. Several tourists were coming down the stairway, so Owen dropped back and let Dana go first.

  He climbed the stairs behind her.

  Staring at the backs of her legs, at the way her shorts slid against the curves of her buttocks.

  She might go out with me.

  She’ll think about it.

  My God!

  Following Dana up the stairs, he suddenly knew for sure that leaving Monica was the best thing he’d ever done.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  SANDY’S STORY—July, 1992

  Sandy couldn’t see the intruder.

  Then he stood up, rising into plain sight behind a boulder. The boulder, his hiding place, was only a couple of yards to the left of where Sandy had been gazing while she posed.

  The moment she spotted him, she felt a hot flush of embarrassment. This wasn’t the first time someone had interrupted a session. This time, at least she wasn’t entirely nude. Trying not to appear flustered, she simply lifted her left hand and cupped her bare breast.

  “Sorry to bother you like this,” the young man called, and started working his way down toward the beach.

  “No bother,” Blaze said, smiling and friendly.

  And no wonder. After all, Blaze wasn’t the one standing around half naked. And Blaze was gay and the intruder was incredibly handsome and bare-chested with a nice tan and sleek muscles and low, faded shorts.

  He came leaping down from the rocks and landed on the sand.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he explained, frowning and shaking his head. “I didn’t know you were down here. Not at first, anyway. I was just climbing round.” Twisting sideways, he gestured toward the high pile of rocks. “No reason.” He smiled at Blaze, then met Sandy’s eyes and said, “Once I got a look at you, I couldn’t leave.”

  “Well, you’ve had your look, so...”

  “My name’s Terry.”

  “Well, don’t tarry on my account.”

  He smiled slightly and shrugged. “I take it you’d like me to leave.”

  “We’re sort of busy here.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He glanced at the hand clasped to Sandy’s breast, then met her eyes. “You aren’t going to tell me your name?”