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Don't shoot till you see who it is, she warned herself.
She waited, expecting a strong thrust.
For a few moments, the door pushed gently at her hand. Then it eased away, stopped, and began coming back.
What's... ?
She thumped it with the heel of her hand.
It swung away.
Swung away silently without knocking into anyone behind it.
Jody slapped the light switch, rushed in and whirled around, ready to fire.
The door had come to a stop against the far wall. n.o.body could possibly be hiding behind it.
From where Jody stood, she could see into the bathtub. n.o.body in there, either.
A sudden movement, off to the side, sent s.h.i.+vers crawling up her skin.
She gasped and jerked her head in that direction.
And saw the pale yellow curtains rising, full of wind, away from the open window.
Wind.
A gust, not a maniac, had been toying with the door.
To make sure, she half-shut the door. Feeling the warm breeze against her back, she stepped aside. A moment later, the door swung slowly until it b.u.mped against its jamb.
The joke's on me.
She felt too shaken to laugh.
Talk about paranoia, she thought. Any other time, I would've figured it out right away.
She had taken a shower that evening after they'd returned from the Pizza Barn. The shower had steamed up the bathroom. As usual, she had opened the window to let in some fresh air.
And open it had remained.
Just to play things safe, she stepped over to the window and checked its screen. The screen was hooked in place, as it should be.
One big, fat false alarm.
She thumbed her pistol's safety switch upward to cover the red dot.
Then she approached the sink.
The girl in the mirror above it looked sweaty and haggard and a little wild. Her short hair was a tangled mess, wet loops glued to her forehead and temples. Her eyes seemed partly frantic, partly amused. Beneath them were half-moons of glistening speckles. A mustache of wet dots gleamed above her lips. The wide neck of her nights.h.i.+rt drooped off her right shoulder.
Should've gotten a smaller size, she thought.
She'd bought it at a store in Indio while Dad was helping to pick out some new clothes for Andy. Nothing special about it. It had no cartoon characters or slogans. She'd bought it because she hadn't wanted to send Dad outside Sat.u.r.day night to take her Pooh nights.h.i.+rt off the clothesline, and she'd packed an old white nights.h.i.+rt to take on the trip. But the white one had turned out to be embarra.s.sing: too tight, too short and too thin. This one hung loose almost down to her knees. And it was pink, so you couldn't see through it.
The only problem's the neck, she thought. Way too big.
She looked at her bare shoulder.
Bet Rob wouldn't mind seeing me in something like this.
She rolled her shoulder. The neck of her nights.h.i.+rt slipped farther down her arm, and now she could see the top of her right breast.
He'd go crazy.
Who knows? she thought. Maybe someday ... or some year.
I'll call him tomorrow. Ask him if he wants to help me wash the car. And I'll be out there in my bikini ...
Oh, yeah, right. No doubt, the sight of all my bruises and scabs would be a real turn on for him.
I'll call him, anyway. Maybe we can get together and do something. My face is okay. I'll just have to keep my s.h.i.+rt on for a while.
She gave herself a haggard smile.
G.o.d, it's been so long. He must wonder where I've been. Hope he's missed me as much as I've ...
She suddenly realized that she hadn't actually missed Rob very much.
I missed him, she told herself. I thought about him a lot. So what if I didn't long for him and pine away. I did have a few other things on my mind.
Including Andy.
The little pain in the b.u.t.t.
Jody switched the pistol to her left hand, turned on the cold water, and bent down over the sink. With her right hand, she scooped water to her mouth.
As she drank, she thought about Andy.
He was bound to wake up and get cute with her.
No matter what, I'm gonna sleep in that trundle bed. Even if it means I've gotta tie the little squirt up, or ... Real nice. Tie him up. His whole family's dead, and he's got n.o.body except me. But he's gonna try something. He'll want me to hold him, or something.
It won't kill me to hold him.
Just so long as he doesn't try to get grabby.
She remembered yesterday morning in the motel, holding him while he'd cried.
That had felt sort of good, really. Comforting him, knowing how much he needs you, even knowing that you were getting him a little turned on.
Not that I was trying to turn him on. It was just the circ.u.mstances, being on the bed, him with nothing on except his sheet and me in only my nights.h.i.+rt, and the way he felt.
It might be that same way tonight, except that we'd be in a dark room with n.o.body likely to walk in on us.
Oh, man.
She turned off the faucet. The way she was bent over the faucet, the mirror gave her a view straight down the hanging front of her nights.h.i.+rt.
If I bend down to pull out the trundle bed, and Andy's watching from the front ... I can pretend I don't know where he's looking.
Real nice, Jody. Why play games? Just shuck it off and the h.e.l.l with it.
Grimacing at her reflection, Jody straightened up.
She took a deep breath. She was trembling. She shook her head.
How can I even think about messing around with Andy?
He's not your brother, you know.
Yeah, I know that. But aside from being a twelve-year-old kid, he's also annoying as h.e.l.l. I can hardly stand him half the time, so why would I want to fool around with him?
Maybe because you love him.
I don't. Not that, way, anyhow.
Jody told herself that. She wasn't certain that she believed it.
But she was suddenly certain of one thing: she wouldn't be returning to the guest room tonight.
I have to, she realized. My pillow and sheet are in there.
Okay. That's okay. I'll just go in and grab them. Maybe Andy won't even wake up. I'll just sneak out again, and find somewhere else to sleep. Maybe on my bedroom floor. I can get my sleeping bag out of the closet ...
Oh, yeah? You took it to sleep over at Evelyn's house, remember? It's all burned up.
She wished she hadn't thought about that.
I'll just sleep on my floor without it, she decided.
She opened the bathroom door.
The man in the hallway grinned at her.
She didn't have time to move.
She didn't have time to thumb off her safety, much less bring up the pistol and fire it.
She didn't have time to cry out.
Chapter Forty-three.
Jody had time only to see him.
A man about her own size, the top of his head bristly with short whiskers, his eyes atwinkle with glee in a face that looked feminine and might have been very pretty except that one side of it was so wrecked with bruises and runny wounds. She got the impression that he was naked.
Even as she caught her first glimpse of him, she wanted to call out for help and she wanted to shoot him.
Before she had time to do either, he slammed a fist into her belly.
Jody folded at the waist.
As she sank to her knees, she saw that he wore a mini-skirt. It was nearly the same color as his skin. A hunting knife was sheathed at his hip. On his feet were white socks and blue sneakers.
He stepped on her left hand, pinning the pistol down and mas.h.i.+ng her fingers. The pain wrenched her mouth open. She had no breath to cry out.
Crouching in front of her, he grabbed her hair and jerked her head up. "h.e.l.lo, Jody," he whispered. "I'm Simon. Remember me?"
She didn't try to answer. All she could do was fight to suck air into her lungs.
But she remembered him, all right.
"We're gonna have some great fun," he whispered.
He took his foot off Jody's hand and pulled the pistol out from under her throbbing fingers. Then he stood up, lifting her by the hair.
Pivoting, he swung her across the hall and pushed her backward into her father's bedroom.
She choked out, "Dad!"
The overhead lights came on. Simon's right arm was out, the barrel of the gun at the switch.
Now the barrel was swinging toward Jody.
He shoved her.
Stumbling away, falling, she watched him aim at a point above her head.
Bam Bam Bam Bam! Bam Bam!
In the midst of the gunshots, she heard her father cry out.