Die Laughing 2: Five More Comic Crime Novels

by Ben Rehder

  “Rydell’s playing it safe. The family would pay twice that.”

  “Still, you walk away with half the take. That’s not bad.”

  “My lifestyle is more expensive than yours.”

  “You’ll manage.”

  She smiled again. “Yes. I will.”

  “It’s not all about money anyway, is it?”

  “It’s not?”

  “You know it’s not. It’s the thrill. You love putting on the act, working the con. Wrapping these fool men around your little finger.”

  She pretended to ponder that, mirth behind her green eyes, then said, “What about you, Eric? Are you wrapped around my finger?”

  I stared at her for a few seconds, my heart thumping.

  “Lady, you know I’m hooked. All you’ve got to do is nod.”

  She cocked a practiced eyebrow.

  “You surprise me, Eric.”

  “I surprise myself. I didn’t come here to say that.”

  “No?” She put on a little pout, like I’d disappointed her.

  “I came to see if you were okay. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “About me? Or about your money?”

  “All of it. I had to come here.”

  “And now that you’re here? Now what?”

  “I don’t know.” I killed my drink and set it on a nearby table. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  She finished off her drink, too, and set it aside. Here we were, two grown-ups, all alone in a big house, with nothing to do with our hands.

  Vanessa kept her eyes locked on mine. Her smile was mocking, but she was still sexy as hell.

  “You think I’m putting on an act with you, Eric?”

  “I don’t know,” I groaned.

  Her hand drifted to the top button of her silky blouse and snapped it loose.

  “What about now? Do you think I’m acting now?”

  “Christ. Come on, Vanessa.”

  Another button.

  “Now, Eric? Is this acting?”

  “You’re toying with me.”

  Plink. Another button. I could see her lacy black bra.

  “Oh, dear Lord.”

  “Praying won’t do you any good now.”

  She kicked off one high-heeled shoe. Used her toe to push off the other. She wore no stockings. Her toenails were painted the same Cabernet red as her fingernails and her lipstick and the Jaguar outside.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing,” she purred. “Yet.”

  She tugged at her shirttail, trying to get it loose from the tight skirt. Then I was beside her, helping her up, pulling at her blouse. She was in my arms and her mouth was hot and she dragged her fingernails down my back like I was a chalkboard, giving me chills.

  Goddamn. My breath came in short pants, like summer tuxedos, and my skin crawled with electricity. I crushed her in my arms, as if I could squeeze her flat, suck her dry. She gasped into my mouth, then kissed me harder.

  We kissed until there was no oxygen left in the world, then she pushed me away. She stumbled across the room, her breath coming hard, looking back at me warily, as if I were an animal, stalking her. Maybe I was. I followed her across that huge living room, into the first bedroom we came to, and then she was stepping out of her skirt and my clothes were wadded on the floor and we pressed hot flesh together from head to toe.

  I felt like my heart might explode. It had been years since I’d been with anyone other than Darlene, which was usually about as exciting as rolling in gravel. I’d forgotten how this out-of-your-head lust could feel.

  Vanessa was firm and shapely and so very, very talented. Her every touch was magic, her every pose a flesh show, her every murmur a tent revival.

  Was the sex enhanced by fear? Perhaps. I confess there was a time or two when the phrase “Rydell Vance’s woman” flitted through my mind. But it wasn’t enough to stop me. He could’ve been standing right in the room with us, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.

  Chapter 47

  I was pulling on my pants when my phone buzzed.

  Vanessa lounged against a pile of pillows, the covers pulled up to her collarbones. She seemed as exhausted and sated as I felt, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the afterglow was an act. If she were accustomed to pleasing an old goat like Lester Davies, she must be pretty good at faking it.

  Still, I felt better than I had in weeks. Drained, sure, nervous as hell, but happy, too. Until I fished my phone out of my pocket and checked the readout.

  “Oh, shit. It’s Rydell.”

  Her eyes widened. “Don’t answer it.”

  “I have to,” I said. “I’m supposed to be standing by for this call.”

  I finished pulling up my jeans. Phone to my ear, I walked over to the window and peered out at the passing river.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, hoss,” Rydell said. “Where are you?”

  “Uh. I’m at Vanessa’s house.”

  No sense lying about it. That would only make it seem more suspicious if he found out.

  “The hell you doing over there?”

  The chill in his voice brought home the enormity of what I’d just done. Rydell had considered Vanessa his property since she was a high school cheerleader. What would he do if he discovered she’d gone to bed with me? Would I live long enough to find out?

  “I thought it would look good if I stopped by,” I heard myself say. “Since I was here last night when Ted was told about the snatch.”

  Oof. Don’t say, “snatch.”

  “Is Ted there now?”

  “No, he and All Right Dwight are rounding up the money. But it sounds like everything’s cool on this end.”

  Rydell said nothing for a moment, then, “Let me talk to Vanessa.”

  I wheeled around, found that she was out of bed now, silently slipping into her clothes.

  “She’s, um, in the bathroom,” I said. “You want me to go knock?”

  “No. I’ll catch her later. Everything’s okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Then you’d better get the hell outta there,” he said. “Might not look right, Vanessa entertaining guests during her time of strife.”

  “I’ve only been here a few minutes.”

  “Uh-huh. Come on out to the house. I’ve got something I want you to do.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  I flipped the phone shut and said to Vanessa, “He wants to see me. Right away.”

  “Better put on a shirt.”

  Chapter 48

  Rydell was outside when I arrived. He wore denim as usual, and his wide-brimmed black hat. A long-eared coonhound danced about his boots.

  I rolled down my window, and yelled, “Does that dog bite?”

  “Of course he bites,” Rydell said. “All dogs bite, if you fuck with them enough.”

  “How about if I don’t fuck with him at all?”

  “That’ll work.”

  I climbed down from the truck and eased across the dusty yard. The black-and-tan dog’s attention was totally focused on Rydell until I arrived. Then the hound whirled and buried his long snout in my crotch.

  “This here’s Booger,” Rydell said.

  “Friendly dog.”

  “Yeah.” Rydell smiled down at the leggy mutt. “Ol’ Booger’s never met a stranger.”

  “Think you could pull him out of my groin?”

  “Booger. Sit.”

  The dog’s butt hit the ground so fast, it stirred a little puff of dust.

  “Well-trained,” I said.

  “All my dogs are like that. It’s about discipline. Showing them who’s the alpha male.”

  “The big dog.”

  “That’s right. They want to be obedient. It’s in their nature. You show them you’re worth their loyalty, and they’ll never let you down. If I told Booger to run out into those woods and bring me back a raccoon, he’d light out of here so fast, he’d be a blur. And he wouldn’t come home unti
l he’d found a coon and killed it. He’d run himself to death first.”

  Booger’s skinny tail whipped back and forth, and he trembled all over, as if he couldn’t wait for Rydell to give the word. I felt trembly myself.

  Rydell leaned toward me, his mix-and-match mustache twitching.

  “You smell like her,” he said.

  I worked very hard to keep my face expressionless, but the hot flush climbing my neck was beyond my control.

  “I gave her a big hug when I got to the house, in case anybody was watching the place,” I said. “I think maybe she’d just put on her perfume.”

  He gave me the stone face.

  “Anyway, heh-heh, it’s better than how I usually smell. Heh.”

  “Don’t start wearing her scent all the time. It makes me horny.”

  I flinched away. He could smell her on me! He knew exactly what we’d done! Holy Christ, I’d be lucky to walk away from here.

  “Come on in the house.”

  I tried to follow him, but the coonhound bounced to its feet and hoovered my crotch again. I wondered how well Booger knew Vanessa, whether her scent was familiar.

  “Booger!” Rydell said. “Git!”

  The dog wheeled and galloped away, disappearing around the corner of the house. I wished I could go with him.

  I followed Rydell through the shadowy living room, the dead trophy animals watching me. Gave me an itchy feeling on the back of my neck.

  Six paper bags full of groceries stood on the kitchen table.

  “I need you to take this food out to Hubert and Wayne,” Rydell said.

  “Me?”

  “It’s your house. Won’t seem unusual for you to be there.”

  “Except that Chief Drake himself kicked me out of there. What if a cop drives by and sees my truck—”

  “People violate eviction notices all the time,” Rydell said. “The cops don’t give a shit. If they roll up on you, tell ‘em you forgot your golf clubs when you moved out. That’s more believable than if they caught me there, delivering food.”

  “Why do they need food anyway? Didn’t they stockpile a bunch?”

  “Hubert ate it all,” Rydell said. “Or that’s what Wayne said on the phone. Hubert does tend to eat when he’s bored.”

  “He must be bored a lot.”

  “He’s got a big engine. Takes a bunch of fuel to keep him going.”

  “Lot of overhead, if you have to feed him.”

  “He’s worth it. Hubert’s a valuable man to have around when I’m doing business. Cuts down on time spent arguing.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Anyhow, take these groceries over to your house. You’ll only be there a minute.”

  I didn’t like it, but it beat standing around here with Rydell. I didn’t want him sniffing me again.

  We carried all the bags in one trip, and set them on the passenger seat and floorboard of my truck.

  “I’ll call ‘em,” Rydell said, “and tell ‘em you’re coming. They’ll be watching for you.”

  I cranked the engine.

  “Eric.” I looked at him. “Probably be better if you don’t go around Vanessa’s again. We don’t want people asking questions about you.”

  I nodded, but didn’t trust myself to say anything. He waved as I drove away.

  Once I reached the highway, I stopped and dug around in my glove compartment and found some ancient sticks of gum. I unwrapped them and got them going good so I’d smell like Doublemint rather than Vanessa.

  I wasn’t sure Rydell bought my story. He seemed willing to put his suspicions aside, at least for now, so we could focus on the job at hand. But what would happen when he got that million dollars? He wouldn’t need me anymore.

  I wiped sweat off my bruised forehead, and turned up the air conditioner. I wore sunglasses, but it still seemed too bright outside, as if the whole world was caught in the glare of a prison spotlight.

  I kept checking my mirrors as I drove across town, but no one seemed to be following me. No reason to think anyone would. I wasn’t mixed up in anything illegal. I wasn’t ferrying groceries to kidnappers. Just another good citizen, soberly driving my pickup truck, obeying all traffic laws.

  My house looked dark and vacant. I stopped in front of the three-car garage, and waited a few seconds for Wayne and Hubert to hear me out here, for someone to come check.

  Wayne limped out the front door a few seconds later, tucking his pistol in his pants as he came around to my window.

  “What are you doing in the house? You guys are supposed to stay in the garage.”

  “Lester’s in the garage. But we need a bathroom. We need a kitchen. We’re using the house.”

  “Are you making a mess?”

  “The fuck do you care? You don’t live here anymore.”

  He was right, of course, but I still felt proprietary. I was the one who mowed the lawn and fixed the plumbing and tended the place the past seven years. Seemed a shame to let vermin like Wayne and Hubert trash it.

  “Give me a hand with these,” he said.

  I helped him carry the sacks inside. We set them on the kitchen counter. Greasy paper plates and potato-chip bags and other litter covered the dining table, but the house seemed undamaged.

  Hubert lumbered in from the garage, wearing jeans, a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut away and that big nipple on his cheek. He went straight to the grocery sacks, tore open a package of powdered doughnuts and started noshing away.

  He’d left the door to the garage standing open, and I could see Lester in there, in his underwear, tied to a kitchen chair with yellow nylon rope, a black pillowcase over his head. He slumped forward, looking old and decrepit, but he was still breathing.

  Not much chance that Lester would recognize my voice, but I whispered to Wayne, “The old man getting any of this food?”

  “We’re feeding him,” Wayne snapped.

  “I’m just asking—”

  “Don’t tell us how to do our jobs, ass-wipe. We know what we’re doing, don’t we, Hubert?”

  “That’s right.” Chew, smack, gulp. “Ass-wipe.”

  I held up my hands placatingly. “Whatever. I’m just the grocery boy.”

  “That’s right. Grocery boy.”

  I sighed. “I’m out of here.”

  “Good,” Wayne said. “You can find your own way out?”

  They got a good laugh out of that one.

  Chapter 49

  As darkness fell, I sat in my truck a block from Vanessa’s house. I could see her front door through a gap in the screen of evergreens. A sleek Mustang was parked in the driveway, and I would’ve guessed it belonged to Ted Davies even if I hadn’t seen him and All Right Dwight unsaddle it and go into the house. They both wore dark suits. Ted carried a fat black suitcase, which I took as an encouraging sign.

  The men were inside for an hour, and I wondered whether Rydell had called them yet, whether arrangements for the ransom delivery had been made. When they came out, Ted again carried the soft-sided suitcase. He put it in the Mustang’s trunk before they drove away.

  Was that the money? A million bucks? They took it away with them? I started to follow, but my pickup had a mind of its own and it pulled into Vanessa’s driveway. I parked close to the riverbank, my scarred truck hidden from the street, went up to the door and rang the bell.

  This time, Vanessa didn’t look past me when she opened the door. She gave me a big smile and said, “I thought you might come.”

  “I shouldn’t. But I can’t stay away.”

  She stepped aside, and touched my wrist as I moved past her. As soon as the door closed, she was in my arms.

  This time, we didn’t even make it to a bedroom. We kissed in the living room until neither of us could breathe, then she pushed me away and turned around and bent over the back of a fat sofa. She hitched her tight skirt up over her hips. She was naked underneath.

  I dropped my jeans to my ankles and pressed up behind her. She was wet and hot inside,
and she moaned as I drove all the way home. I gripped her hips, riding her. She clung to the back of the sofa like it was a lifeboat.

  Only when it was over, when I was draped over her back, panting, did I recognize that we’d been in front of the big windows all the while. Not visible from the street, but any passing boaters would’ve gotten quite a show.

  “Let’s go to the bedroom,” I said into her ear. “And do it again.”

  I stepped away. She tossed her hair back as she stood, then walked without a word toward the bedroom, teetering on her high heels, her skirt still hiked up around her ass.

  I pulled up my pants and followed. My heart raced, but my limbs felt heavy and relaxed. I shed my clothes and climbed under the covers with an extremely naked Vanessa. I wrapped my arms around her, and held on tight.

  “I waited for hours,” I said. “Parked outside.”

  “Then you must’ve seen Ted come and go.”

  “Was that the money? In that suitcase?”

  “Mm-hm,” she said into my neck. “They’re keeping it safe until the drop tomorrow morning.”

  “Did they show it to you?”

  “Dwight opened the bag and gave me a peek, but I didn’t count it or anything.”

  “I was wondering what a million bucks looks like.”

  She propped up on her elbow and looked down into my face.

  “It looked like heaven. All I could think about was rolling around in all that money. With you.”

  Don’t know if it was the mention of money or her warm skin against mine, but I was hard again. She noticed and pressed against me. Soon, I was inside her, thinking that was heaven’s true location.

  Afterward, she put on a robe and went to the kitchen and came back with drinks. I sipped mine while she got back in bed.

  “This is nice,” I said.

  “Yes, it is. Maybe we could spend the rest of our lives here.”

  “In bed?”

  “Can you think of a better place?”

  I took another sip, then set my drink on the side table. “This might not be the best spot when Rydell finds out about us.”

  I told her about him sniffing her perfume on me earlier, and the stupid coonhound snuffling my crotch.