Part 22 (1/2)

'I've written about this kind of stuff. I had to do some research.'

'I just can't believe he would use his own car,' Melanie said.

'There must be a thousand Porsches in LA. At least. He slaps some stolen plates on his Porsche before he goes after Dad, and he's home free as long as he doesn't take it in for repairs. He's got the Mercedes. He can leave the Porsche in his garage for a few weeks, then maybe get it repaired out of state. Turn here, Bodie, then take the first left.'

He slowed, steered around the corner, saw the intersection a short distance ahead, and flicked the arm of his turn signal.

'It'll be the third house on the right,' Pen said. 'What'll we do,' Bodie asked, 'drop in and ask to see his Porsche?'

'Just go by, for starters. Don't even slow down.'

Even as he made the turn, he spotted Harrison 's gray Mercedes parked in the driveway of the third house. 'd.a.m.n it,' Melanie muttered.

'Too bad he's not at ma.s.s with Joyce,' Bodie said.

Harrison 's home, unlike those of his neighbors, was a single-story ranch house. It looked more modern than the others. Red brick, a red tile roof, white trim. In front of the Mercedes stood a wrought-iron gate.

Pen's head blocked Bodie's view as she strained forward between the seats to look out Melanie's window. When she settled back, they were beyond the house.

'The Porsche must be in his garage,' she said.

'So what'll we do?' Bodie asked.

'We can't do anything while he's there.'

'Why don't we get some breakfast?'

'All right.'

He stopped at the corner, waited for a Mustang to go by, then drove through the intersection and saw, parked at the curb, a black Lincoln Continental. His heart gave a kick.

'My G.o.d,' Melanie gasped.

Bodie hit the brakes.

Pen leaned forward again. 'It's Dad's, all right.'

'Are you sure?'

'That pipe holder on the dash? I gave it to him for Christmas a few years ago.'

Bodie shook his head. 'Guess who's not at ma.s.s.'

'That miserable b.i.t.c.h,' Pen muttered. 'She really is making it witha oh, man. Oh, that dirtya'

'I knew it all along.' Melanie sounded proud of herself.

'G.o.d, if Dad ever found out he'd die. How could she do something like this!' Pen dropped backward out of sight. 'I want to go home,' she said in a small voice.

Bodie started his van moving again.

'Not to her home.' She sniffed. 'I never want to see her again.'

Melanie grinned.

'Your apartment?' Bodie asked.

'Please.'

'What about the caller?'

'Who cares?'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Bodie insisted on escorting Pen up to her apartment. Melanie stayed with them. This time, no note had been left under the door.

'Are you sure you'll be all right here?' Bodie asked.

'I just need to be alone.'

'I don't know why you're so upset all of a sudden,' Melanie said. 'I thought you already believed they were s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around. All that happened is that we confirmed it.'

'Yeah, we confirmed it. I'll see you guys later, okay? Could you do me a real favor and bring my stuff over sometime? I really don't want to go back there unless I have to.'

'Sure, we'll do that,' Bodie said. 'Maybe you should reconnect one of your phones in case we need to get in touch about something.'

She nodded.

Then they were gone.

Pen sat on her sofa, propped her elbows on her knees, and rested her chin on her hands. She stared at the wall.

h.e.l.l no, she hadn't believed that Joyce was making it with Harrison. She'd suspected it, of course, but she hadn't believed. It was too d.a.m.ned outrageous.

Probably in Harrison 's bed right now, this instant, f.u.c.king. And Dad in the hospital, barely alive.

And yeah they did it yesterday, too. Right from the hospital to Dad's home and f.u.c.ked in Dad's bed.

What kind of sc.u.m is she?

The kind of sc.u.m, maybe, who would try to kill Dad. Why not? A piece of s.h.i.+t like that doesn't have any conscience.

How about Harrison?

Yeah, how about him.