Bad Things

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Bad Things Page 38

by Tamara Thorne


  48

  Dakota was more worried about Rick now that he had acquired the determined, set look to his face and shoulders than he’d even been when the guy had been scared half to death and worried that he was losing his marbles.

  Now, as Dakota sat in Carmen’s bedroom applying his Marilyn makeup, he didn’t know what Piper was up to. Less than an hour ago, Rick had assured him that he had no intention of doing anything, like going back into the house tonight, but Dakota wasn’t sure he believed him.

  After leaving their things at Carmen’s, Rick had insisted on going into the workshop and pushing the old Rambler out of its spot in the corner. The two back side windows were broken out, and there were candy wrappers, apple cores, and white Styrofoam meat trays with bits of dried-up meat still clinging under the edges of the cellophane hidden beneath a blanket in the back of the car. The interior smelled like rotting garbage, dirty skin, and worst of all, an X-rated peep show booth. It was foul.

  After that, they explored the area where the car had been stored. There were no openings in the floor, but before long, they found a well-hidden passage built into the paneled wall. Piper hadn’t even known it existed. To Dakota’s surprise, Piper made no attempt to block it, just stared at it with that new and disturbingly resolute set to his jaw.

  Back at the Zapatas’, Rick set about convincing Carmen that she and Hector should go away for the night. Dakota could hear parts of the conversation, low, intense discussion that worried him, but when he opened his mouth to say that in his opinion the Zapatas should go nowhere tonight of all nights, Carmen and Rick stared at him as if he were something from another planet. Then Carmen had squeezed Piper’s hand and said solemnly that what had to be, had to be.

  Next they talked about removing Cody for the night, but the boy came home from school in the middle of that and insisted he wanted to stay home, and Piper, surprisingly, sided with him. When Carmen objected, he pointed out that three adults would be with him at all times. A few minutes later, he had Cody put on his Superman costume, then took him along with him to see Shelly and deliver her costume for the sleep-over party at the Larsons’ tonight.

  An hour later, they returned, the visit with Shelly, Piper said, having gone very well.

  Makeup complete, Dakota pinned his blond wig on, then slipped off his robe in favor of panty hose, high heels, and one of his retired performance white chiffon dresses.

  “Voilà,” he said, striking a pursed-lip pose in the mirror. “Marilyn is reborn.”

  He swept into the living room. “Trick or treat, big boy!”

  Cody looked up from the television and laughed with delight. Rick, who sat on the couch silently brooding, smiled thinly.

  “Well, is that a Tootsie Roll in your pocket or are you just happy to see me, Piper?”

  “Dakota,” he said wearily, and glanced at his son.

  “Sorry. Where are Carmen and Hector?”

  “In their bedroom.”

  Dakota raised his eyebrows suggestively, but Rick just looked bored.

  “They’re getting ready to leave for her sister’s place in Madelyn.”

  “Piper, this makes no sense.” Dakota asked. “Why do you want them to leave? What’s your plan?”

  “No plan,” Rick said nonchalantly. “It works well for everyone. Since we don’t want to stay in the big house, we’ll have plenty of room here. Carmen doesn’t mind at all, and she really wanted to go visit her sister anyway. After we go trick-or-treating, the four of us can come back here, lock ourselves in, and watch movies till dawn. We’ll have our own little Halloween party, right, Cody?”

  “Right!” the boy said enthusiastically. “You know what? After we saw Shelly, we rented movies and everything. We got Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein and . . . what else, Daddy?”

  “Love at First Bite. And Frankenhooker for later.”

  “Well, they’re almost horror movies,” Dakota said.

  “Close enough.” Rick’s gaze drifted to the clock. “It’s almost five. I hope Audrey gets here soon.”

  Dakota planted himself close to Rick and waited until Cody was lost in cartoons. “Piper,” he said softly. “Why do you want your son here?”

  “If Big Jack exists, I want him to see it. So he knows that it’s a real danger.”

  The Zapatas came out of their bedroom carrying overnight bags, and the look on Hector’s face when he saw Marilyn instantly put Dakota in a better mood. Grabbing his long white scarf, he strutted forth and sang a few breathy bars of “Let Me Entertain You.” Carmen laughed and applauded. Hector, grinning and blushing, backed into the wall as Dakota descended upon him, flipping his scarf behind Hector’s head and pulling the compact little man forward. He jumped back just before his nose made contact with Dakota’s breasts, and O’Keefe let him go, purring, “A hard man is good to find.” Hector blushed, smiling uncertainly.

  “Ricky?” Carmen asked as Dakota strolled up. “You sure this is okay?”

  “I’m sure,” he said firmly. “We’ll take good care of the place, I promise.”

  “I brought some extra sheets and towels over from the main house,” she said. “They’re on the bed.”

  “Thanks.”

  A knock on the door made Dakota glance around.

  “Audrey’s here!” Cody sang, and ran to the door. She stepped inside, wearing jeans and a chambray shirt with a red bandanna in her pocket. On her head she wore a pair of springy antennae topped with blue glittery Styrofoam balls that bounced every time she moved.

  “That’s not much of a costume, sister dear,” Dakota admonished.

  “It’s a hell of a lot better than Rick’s,” she countered.

  “He’s a poop.”

  “I can see that.”

  Costumeless Rick remained on the couch, smiling impassively.

  “Well, sis, what are you?”

  “Hillbilly space alien.”

  “Lock all the windows tonight, Ricky,” Carmen said as she crossed the room, Hector on her tail. “Lock all of them. And the doors.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  “You all be back here before full dark, and don’t leave the house until morning,” Carmen continued, her voice filled with grave innuendo. “It’s Halloween, you know.”

  “We’ll be good,” Dakota promised, eyeing Piper. “I’ll see to that.”

  Rick stood as the Zapatas left, crossed to Audrey, and self-consciously pecked her on the cheek. She countered with a solid kiss on his lips.

  “So,” Rick said. “Let’s go trick-or-treating.”

  “Be ready in a sec. Gotta powder my antennae.” Audrey disappeared into the bathroom.

  Cody was still staring at the TV, so Dakota pulled Rick aside.

  “What are you up to, Piper?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re planning something.”

  Rick shrugged. “Yeah, right. I plan to make popcorn and watch movies.”

  “Let me put it another way. Where do you plan to sleep tomorrow night?”

  “In my house.”

  “Why will it be safe tomorrow night?”

  “I hope to have Jade moved out by then.”

  “Besides that. What about . . . the other problem?”

  Rick stared at him. “Pest control,” he said simply, and turned to Cody. “Let’s go, Superboy!”

  49

  Watching Cody and Dakota, who would never grow up, trick-or-treat while he and Audrey held hands and waited on the sidewalk had been fun, but Rick had been so anxious to get back to the house that he could barely concentrate long enough to make coherent conversation. He told Audrey that it was because he was nervous about seeing Big Jack, and she accepted that, but her brother kept watching him. He knew there was more going on than Rick would admit to, and now Rick worried that O’Keefe would be a problem later. All afternoon O’Keefe had asked him what his plans were, which was actually sort of funny because he truly didn’t have any plans. All he knew was that tonight he would c
onfront Robin.

  Rick announced that the trick-or-treating was done at six forty-five, and Cody and Dakota, who had collected more candy than Rick had ever seen, both protested, but only mildly. They returned to the car and headed for the house.

  The last light of day died as they pulled up the driveway. His stomach in a knot, Rick killed the engine and got out, scooping Cody into his arms.

  As they passed the oak, the jacks were as thick and active as Rick had ever seen them, but there was no sign of Big Jack, and he felt so little fear that even the talismanic phrase I’m Thomas was unnecessary. Even when they combined and rose right in front of him, he steadfastly ignored them, walking unflinchingly through their greenish forms, feeling the chill wind that went with them and not caring.

  He stopped at the front porch and handed Cody to Dakota. “Wait just a second. I promised Carmen I’d look in on Jade.”

  “Piper—”

  Rick ran up the steps. “I’ll leave the door open and I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m going with you,” Audrey said, trotting after him.

  That was fine. He entered the living room and began to cross to Jade’s door, intending to do as Carmen asked, just knock politely and tell her good night.

  “Fuck me,” Jade moaned from within her rooms.

  Behind him, Audrey made a strangled sound. Rick turned and grimaced at her, then whispered, “Let’s go.”

  “That was fast,” Dakota said as Rick locked the front door.

  “She’s having her last fling.”

  “Last fling?” Audrey asked.

  “Piper’s going to find her a rest home tomorrow,” Dakota explained as they quickly walked up the side of the house and around to the Zapata cottage. “Hopefully one well stocked with dirty old men.”

  The interior of the cottage was warm and cozy, and while Cody spread his booty on the floor and Dakota checked the locks on the house’s two entry doors and the latches on all the windows, Rick and Audrey started making popcorn in the microwave.

  “We’re as tight as bugs in rugs,” O’Keefe announced, entering the kitchen. “What have we got to drink?”

  “Pepsi or Dos Equis,” Rick said.

  Dakota opened the fridge, took a beer for himself and a plastic bottle of orange juice for Cody. “What do you two want?”

  “Beer,” Audrey said absently.

  “Pepsi,” Rick said, ignoring Dakota’s look of surprise. He took a bag of popcorn from the oven, stuck another one in. “Did you want to change clothes, O’Keefe?”

  “Piper, dear, I like dressing this way.” He grinned. “It makes me feel sexy.”

  “Sorry. I forgot. Watch out for the cat,” he added, forcing a grin, trying to act normal. “His claws will shred your frock.”

  By eight o’clock, halfway into Young Frankenstein, Cody had passed out on the floor, the victim of excitement and too much chocolate. While Audrey put him to bed on the little couch in the tiny second bedroom where Carmen kept her sewing machine, Rick stood and sauntered into the kitchen.

  “Get me another beer, will you, Piper?” Dakota called.

  “I have something better,” Rick called back, eyeing the bottle of Sauza Gold on top of the refrigerator.

  “Well, bring whatever’s better, but bring a beer, too.”

  “Sure,” Rick said. He took the bottle down. A few shooters would make Dakota stop worrying and watching.

  Icky Ricky, icky Ricky, come out and play.

  He shivered. This was the first time he’d really heard the greenjacks’ song all evening. You heard the voices because you let your guard down.

  “Boo!” Audrey cried, poking his ribs from behind.

  He jumped, almost dropping the bottle.

  “Oh, Rick, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!”

  “It’s okay,” he said shakily. “You’re allowed on Halloween.”

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asked, pointing at the bottle.

  “Well,” he said, opening the fridge and rummaging in the fruit bin until he found a lime, “have you ever had a shooter?”

  She made a face. “Yes. Yucko. Is there any margarita mix?”

  “Try that cabinet.”

  Maybe Audrey’s was the better idea. After all, he didn’t want to get the O’Keefes too plastered to take care of Cody, just relaxed enough not to miss him when he slipped out the back door.

  “Eureka,” she said, pulling out a green bottle of mix. She set it down. “Glasses?”

  “Over there.”

  He waited until she’d set them beside the mix, then shooed her out of the room. “I’m the host,” he said, a tub of margarita salt in his hand. “I’ll do the mixing.”

  “Rick, let me help you—”

  “No.” He kissed her nose, then led her into the living room, instructing her to sit on the couch by the lovely Marilyn, who demanded his beer.

  Rick just smiled. “Forget beer,” he told him. “I’m making margaritas. It’s better for that girlish figure.”

  Dakota batted his eyelashes. “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “Slut,” giggled Audrey, poking him in the ribs.

  Rick left them to their teasing and returned to the kitchen, where he mixed three large drinks, two with double shots of tequila, one with no alcohol.

  By nine they were running Frankenhooker, and Rick had just delivered a third drink to Dakota. Audrey had stopped at two, saying she’d fall asleep if she had any more, but long, tall Dakota seemed to be a bottomless pit.

  “You don’t seem very drunk, Piper,” he commented as Rick sat down next to Audrey, who was giggling at the movie.

  Rick didn’t feel capable of anything more than a stupid grin, so he gave Dakota that and said, “I’m just tired.” He sipped his drink and grinned again. “I’m a little sleepy.”

  “This is supposed to be a party,” Dakota said, his voice slurring slightly. “Don’t go pooping out on me. You either, Audrey.”

  They sat there for twenty minutes, Dakota engrossed in the movie, Audrey half-asleep. Quietly Rick stood, intending to slip away.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dakota demanded.

  Inspiration hit. “I’m going to lie down for a few minutes. I’m really tired, but a nap ought to be enough to keep me up for the rest of the night.” His smile, he hoped, was winsome. “Would you do me a favor and wake me up in half an hour?” Judging by Dakota’s heavy eyelids, he wouldn’t be awake that long himself.

  Dakota looked doubtful. “Well, okay. But only a half hour.” He glanced at his dozing sister. “You two aren’t much fun.”

  “Sorry,” Rick said, heading toward the back of the little house. “I’ll be more fun after a nap.”

  Dakota didn’t answer, his attention already back on the TV screen. Rick slipped into the bathroom, and when he came out again, Dakota didn’t notice him. He slipped into the room Cody was sleeping in and opened the unobtrusive second door, which led into the kitchen on the far side of the refrigerator.

  Picking up the six-inch knife he’d used to cut the lime, he slipped it in his jacket pocket, then let himself out the kitchen door.

  In the bedroom, Cody awoke to the closet door creeping open. The sight of his friend scared him at first, but when Bob smiled, the little boy felt much better.

  50

  Standing on Carmen’s side porch in the chill windy night, Rick Piper stared at the back of his house. No lights were on, even though he’d purposely left several burning. Possibly Jade had doused the downstairs lights, but he doubted that she was responsible for the upper floor.

  Adrenaline coursing through him, he scanned the yard. The orange trees loomed close around him, and he knew that here, even if Big Jack was standing right beside him, he wouldn’t know it. Quickly he walked down the path that led out of the orchard, and as he crossed the small lawn, he could vaguely hear the jacks’ taunting calls, though he saw only three or four at the edges of the trees. They were in front, he knew, and ma
ny of them were probably busy with Big Jack at the moment.

  As he reached the back door and inserted the key in the lock, the wind howled and whistled through the citrus trees behind him. Big Jack? he wondered as he fumbled with the lock. “Come on, come on, come on.” The whistling sounds grew nearer, then he heard the crunching of footsteps approaching—the familiar sound of Big Jack’s tread, like someone walking in a pile of autumn leaves.

  Terrified, he jiggled the knob. Nothing happened, and he twisted it harder. “Come on, goddammit!”

  Suddenly the lock gave and he swiftly entered the house, pulling the door closed behind him. He didn’t bother locking it—greenjacks couldn’t leave their natural habitat without donning a human body. Leaves and bark wouldn’t do the trick.

  Swallowing, he forced himself to turn and look out the window. Something moved among the liquid amber trees, just a flicker at the edge of his vision. It’s nothing, he told himself, moving deeper into the house.

  He didn’t want to turn on the lights, and he realized that, as usual, he’d forgotten to bring a flashlight. Trying to move silently, trying not to knock against anything in the dark, he moved through the dining room and into the living room.

  Now what? Without a clue, he sat down on the couch so that his back was against the wall and he could see all the corners of the room. He waited a moment, then rose and crossed to the picture window. He drew the drapes wide open. Might as well see everything you’re waiting for.

  The front lawn was a madhouse of activity, and he had to force the jacks’ intrusive voices out of his mind, to refuse to acknowledge their attempts to frighten him with their oozing, shifting shapes. He flipped them the bird.

  “That’s not nice, icky Ricky.”

  The voice drifted down from the top of the stairs, nearly stopping his heart.

  He turned and peered up into the darkness. “Robin?” he called softly.

  His brother’s laugh was a harsh, ugly sound. “You think you’ve changed, little brother, but you haven’t. You’re still a chicken, icky Ricky.”

  “And you’re not my brother.” He approached the stairs and stood in the safety of shadows.

 

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