“Lovely idea.”
Roy went into the kitchen and brought back a bowl of ice, which he set before her on a low table in front of the fireplace. The green hydrant bottle of Tanqueray and the vermouth were already there. As he stirred the cocktails in a tall pitcher Lady began to whine softly and scratch at the baseboard near the front door.
“I think it’s time she took a trip outside,” Roy said. He crossed the room and held the door open. “Come on, Lady, out.”
The dog looked up at him uncertainly, then at Karyn.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Karyn said.
“Sure. There’s no traffic out here, and she won’t go far enough from the house to get lost.”
Lady crouched lower to the floor, her eyes on Roy.
“Come on, you, out,” he said again, in a more commanding tone.
The little dog obeyed at last, moving in a cautious sidling manner. Roy closed the door after her. He then selected two hefty logs from the pile on the hearth and laid them on the dwindling fire. They caught immediately. The flames snapped at the pockets of pitch and leaped up the chimney.
Roy sat down again and finished stirring the martinis. He brought out two iced glasses and filled them at the low table. They touched glasses, sipped at the cocktails, and smiled at each other.
“Did you get everything worked out at the office?” Karyn asked.
“It’s all taken care of. I’ve got next year’s publication list to go over. When I go into town I’ll bring back whatever raw copy there is for editing. There’s no reason why technical manuals can’t be edited up here in the woods as well as on Wilshire Boulevard. I shouldn’t have to make the trip into L.A. more than a couple of times a week, if that often.”
Karyn leaned back on the sofa. “Are you sure you don’t mind being cooped up here away from the city and all our friends?”
“Mind? What’s to mind? You think I miss battling through the smog and the freeway traffic twice a day? Listen, this is as much a vacation for me as it is therapy for you.”
Karyn squeezed his hand. “You’re pretty sweet, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know, but tell me anyway.”
“What about some dinner? I’m starved.”
“Right. I’ll get the steaks going while you build a salad.”
“Do we have everything we need?”
“We should have. I stocked up this afternoon at the Safeway over in Pinyon.”
“Pinyon?”
“That’s the nearest town of any size. It’s about twelve miles from here at the tip of Castaic Lake.”
“Why didn’t you do the shopping in Drago?”
“I guess you didn’t get too good a look at the town. There’s one general store that’s about the size of the cheese section in most supermarkets. They had a few canned goods, a few boxes of cereal, a tiny meat counter, and that was it. Oh, yes, the place doubles as a post office.”
“At least we do have a post office.”
“Not exactly,” Roy said with an apologetic grin. “The nearest post office is in Pinyon, but they do bring the Drago mail over once a day to the store.”
“And that’s where we go to pick up our mail,” Karyn said.
“That’s it. There’s a funny little old lady running the place. You’ll have to meet her.”
“I hope she’s funnier than the sheriff.”
“You met Anton Gadak?”
“On the way in. He didn’t exactly welcome us with open arms.”
“Yeah, well, it probably takes these people a while to warm up to strangers.”
“I suppose so.” Karyn leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You were saying something about steaks?”
They ate together at the big oak dining table while shadows cast by the fire danced across the walls. After dinner they relaxed on the sofa, drinking rich burgundy out of big tulip glasses.
“It seems like a strange little town,” Karyn remarked. “What kind of a name is Drago, anyway?”
“I don’t know. It’s not Spanish or Indian. Has a European sound. Hungarian or something. Tomorrow we can ask in the village. It will give us a chance to meet some of the local people. And we can get some candles to go with this romantic setting.”
After she had rinsed off the dinner dishes and stacked them in the sink, she joined Roy back in the living room.
“I wonder what the last people were like,” Karyn said, sitting down and lighting a cigarette.
“Who?”
“The people who lived in this house before us. The Fennos.”
“The man who handled the lease didn’t know much about them,” Roy said. “Apparently they were an older couple. Moved out here from somewhere in the East to retire. Weren’t here long when they died in some kind of an accident. I didn’t get any details.”
They both started at the sound of something scraping at the front door.
“Lady,” Roy said, relaxing with a little laugh. “We forgot all about her.”
He walked over and opened the door. The little dog dashed into the room and across the rug to the couch. There she jumped up and pressed close to Karyn, peering back toward the door with wide, brown eyes.
“She looks frightened,” Karyn said.
Roy stepped outside and looked both ways in the darkness. “Nothing out here.”
He came back inside and closed the door. Lady stayed close to Karyn on the sofa.
They talked for a while about nothing important while the logs in the fireplace burned down to a dusky red, finally collapsing in a shower of sparks.
Roy stretched his arms up over his head and yawned generously. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. Ready to go to bed?”
Karyn felt her muscles tighten. “Maybe. I’ll have a nice cup of coffee first. Everything tastes so good up here in the mountains.” Even in her own ears the light tone of voice rang false.
Karyn took as long as she could with the coffee. She made herself smile at Roy who sat beside her waiting patiently. “Suddenly I’m tired too. Let’s go to bed,” she said.
They went into the bedroom and Roy turned back the quilt and the snowy top sheet. Karyn’s nerves crawled beneath her skin.
She undressed quickly, feeling sure Roy’s eyes were fastened on the bite scar––broken red parentheses on the white skin of her inner thigh. She slipped into bed beside her husband and pulled up the covers. Maybe this time it would be all right.
But it was not all right. As soon as they were together in the big comfortable bed and she felt Roy’s hand on her––Roy’s gentle, familiar hand––a chill spread from her crotch up and throughout her body. Karyn squeezed her eyes shut and ran through all the mental tricks the doctor had given her to blot out the hateful memory of the rape. She clasped her arms about Roy’s well muscled back and pulled him down on top of her. She kissed him passionately and whispered their special love words in his ear.
She felt his body grow tense against hers. Gently he pulled away.
“Oh, Roy, what’s the matter with me?”
“Nothing is the matter with you, except that you keep thinking something’s the matter with you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Cut it out. Everything will be fine as long as we don’t force it.”
She trailed her fingers slowly across his flat stomach. “Can I do something, you know, for you?”
He shifted his body a fraction of an inch away from her. “Never mind, honey. Get some sleep. Everything will work out.”
After that they lay together, their bodies touching, their minds miles apart.
Many hours later, in the cold, empty darkness before the dawn, Karyn heard the howling.
4
Morning came slowly to the valley. The blackness of the bedroom lightened imperceptibly through the shades of gray, and at last a finger of sunlight jabbed through a gap in the curtains. Karyn lay wakeful for a long time waiting for Roy to stir. At last his eyes opened. He looked over at Karyn and smiled.
“Good morning,” she said, rolling on her side to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “Sleep well?”
“Sure, I guess so. You?”
“Fine. Except for…” She hesitated, not wanting to start the day by complaining.
“Except for what?”
“Did you hear anything last night?”
“Hear what?”
“Something… like howling.”
“No, I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Maybe it was the wind,” she said.
“That was probably it. Blowing over the chimney.”
“Probably.”
Roy reached over and patted her hip. “Let’s have some breakfast. Afterward we can go in and take a look at the town.”
Karyn swung lightly out of bed. “You go ahead and take your shower and I’ll start getting things set up in the kitchen.”
Together they prepared and ate a breakfast of plump country sausages, eggs over easy, muffins, home-fried potatoes, and coffee. Back in the city they seldom had more than plain toast. The food along with the crisp, piney morning air put them in an excellent mood.
Lady was given a helping of canned dog food with a fresh egg beaten into it. She ate as hungrily as the two people, and afterward dashed eagerly outside.
“I’ll get the car,” Roy said.
“Couldn’t we walk into town?” Karyn said. “It can’t be more than two miles, and it’s such a beautiful day.”
Roy grinned at her, his old warm grin, and Karyn felt a rush of affection for her husband. “I keep forgetting that you lived in Manhattan,” he said. “I’ve never seen people walk as much as New Yorkers.”
“You wouldn’t, being a Southern California boy,” Karyn replied. “People here take the car to go to the mailbox.”
“Speaking of cars––” Roy began.
Karyn held up a hand to stop him. “I promise, darling, I’ll take driving lessons first thing when we get back.”
“I don’t mean to nag,” Roy said, “but there are times when it could be important.”
“Yes, sir,” Karyn said with mock servility. Roy could not hold his stem expression.
They both turned as the little dog dashed in through the open door and skidded to a stop, legs braced, ready to play.
“Lady will enjoy the walk too,” Karyn said. “Won’t you, girl?”
With Lady running ahead, Karyn and Roy started down the narrow lane toward the village of Drago. They continued past the old houses which, Karyn saw, were gray and crumbling, with sagging boards and blind windows. The yards had long since gone to weeds.
“Why do you suppose the people moved out and just left these old houses to rot?” Karyn remarked uneasily.
“Who knows? Drago isn’t exactly a boomtown. I guess when people die or move away, nobody comes in to take their place.”
When they reached the blacktopped road––the main street of Drago––the dog stopped her forays ahead and stayed close to their feet, her ears up, eyes alert.
Karyn and Roy stopped for a moment. Sunlight filtering through the evergreen boughs gave the town a hazy, unreal appearance. The trees sighed under a gentle breeze. No one moved along the street.
“How many people are supposed to be living here?” Karyn asked. Her voice was hushed, as though she were speaking in a church. Or a cemetery.
“I don’t know,” Roy answered. “Somewhere between a hundred and two hundred.”
“Where do you suppose everybody is?”
“Maybe they sleep late.”
“Oh, there’s someone now,” Karyn said. Across the street Anton Gadak stood leaning in the doorway of a small shop. His blocky form was half-hidden in shadows. Karyn and Roy crossed the street and approached him.
“Good morning,” Roy said. “For a while there we thought the town was closed today.”
Gadak touched the brim of his Stetson and nodded to Karyn. He spoke to Roy. “You’ll find us pretty quiet here in Drago.”
“That’s fine with us,” Roy said. “We’re pretty quiet ourselves. Are there stores open?”
“You can buy groceries and most anything else down the street at the Jolivets’.” Gadak jerked a thumb toward the narrow shop behind him. “And knickknacks you can get in here.” He touched his hat brim again and swung off down the street without waiting for further conversation.
Roy looked after him, shaking his head. “I thought he’d never shut up.”
“How do you suppose he got to be sheriff?”
“I think it’s an honorary title,” Roy said. “The town of Drago is not incorporated.”
“Well, shall we check out the knickknacks?” Karyn suggested, pointing to the shop. “They may have candles.” There was no sign identifying the shop. A curtain was pulled across the show window, and the glass in the door was too dark to see through, giving the place an abandoned look. Roy thumbed the latch and pushed the door open. The clear tinkle of a tiny bell sounded inside. He let Karyn precede him and told Lady to stay put outside.
The interior of the shop was cluttered and dimly lit, but seemed quite clean. A faint scent of sandalwood hung in the air, mingling with the even fainter hint of herbs. A glass-fronted counter ran along one wall of the shop. All around were shelves and small tables filled with colorful and useless objects of the kind people like to give as presents, but seldom buy for themselves. There were china figurines, embroidered pillows, hurricane lamps, ceramic dishes, ornate vases, lace handkerchiefs, costume jewelry, and a collection of boxes and bottles with contents unknown.
“Wonder where the proprietor is,” Roy murmured.
A soft green curtain covering a doorway at the rear of the shop moved, and Karyn and Roy looked that way. The curtain parted in the center, sliding along the rod on silent rings, and a young woman stepped through.
The woman’s hair was raven black, and soft with glinting highlights. Her eyes slanted just barely, and were a pale green that seemed lit from within. She wore a loose satiny garment that covered her from throat to ankles. When she moved it touched her in a way that revealed the lithe body underneath.
“Hello,” the woman said in a smoky voice. “I wondered when you would be in.” Her pale-green eyes were trained full on Roy, ignoring Karyn.
“Well, hello,” Roy said in a tone Karyn barely recognized. “Were you expecting us?”
“I saw you in the village yesterday. I knew you would be here soon. How may I serve you?”
An old grandfather’s clock behind the counter ticked four times before Roy answered. “Candles,” he blurted. Then, more composed, “We wanted to buy some candles. We’ve moved into what I guess is called the old Fenno house.”
“Yes, I know,” said the black-haired woman. Noting Karyn’s quizzical look she added, “In a small town there are few secrets. My name is Marcia Lura.”
“I’m Roy Beatty, and this is my wife, Karyn.”
“You do have candles?” Karyn said. It came out more sharply than she intended, but the other woman did not seem to notice.
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Beatty, I have candles of all kinds.” Marcia Lura turned to face Karyn. In the way she moved and the sharp contrast of pale-green eyes and midnight hair there could be a powerful attraction for a man. Was there also a challenge? Karyn wondered.
“We don’t need anything elaborate,” Roy said. “Just something for the dinner table. Something romantic.” He gave Karyn a quick grin, but his gaze quickly returned to Marcia Lura.
“I understand,” Marcia said with a slow smile. “I’m sure I have something that will please you.”
Karyn kept her smile in place, but behind it she ground her teeth. Never had she considered herself a jealous woman, but now it infuriated her the way this woman directed her conversation to Roy, and seemed to put double meanings on everything she said. Maybe, Karyn thought, the double meanings were in her own mind. In any case, she did not intend to be upstaged.
“Do you live here in Drago?” Karyn asked, moving a step closer to her husband and tou
ching his arm possessively.
“Yes, I have rooms right here behind the shop. There’s not much space, but being alone, I don’t need much,” Marcia said with a smile. Her mouth was wide and full, a pale-pink shade that might or might not have been achieved with lipstick. “If you will step over this way I’ll show you what I have in candles.”
They settled for half a dozen slim green candles with a pair of plain glass holders. Not until Roy was paying the woman did Karyn notice that the candles matched the color of her eyes. When they left the shop Karyn felt a vast relief at being back in the fresh air. She reached down and absently scratched Lady behind the ear.
“Striking woman, wasn’t she,” Karyn said as casually as possible.
“Who? Oh, yes, I suppose you could say she was.”
“You didn’t notice, I suppose.”
Roy snaked an arm around Karyn’s waist and pulled her close to him. “Hell, yes, I noticed. Want to make something of it?”
Karyn smiled, happy to have her husband’s full attention once again. “Maybe,” she said. “Once we get home and get those romantic candles lit.”
“Do we need any groceries?” Roy asked.
The Howling Trilogy Page 3