Part 26 (1/2)

'He won't bring in the cops, if that's what you're afraid of.'

'If he's innocenta'

'He isn't innocent.'

'If he's not innocent, that's even worse.'

When they entered the house, Bodie hurried ahead of Melanie. 'My teeth are floating,' he said.

'Hey, I left my purse in the van.'

He tossed the keys to her and rushed into the bathroom. He swung the door shut, unzipped, aimed at the toilet and released the tight hold he'd been keeping for so long. He sighed. He counted the seconds until he was done. Sixty-three. No record. His record was ninety-eight seconds one night last year after walking back to his apartment from a beer drinking session at Sparkey's.

He zipped up, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands.

Melanie should wash her hands, he thought. She actually touched that stuff. And sniffed it.

The girl is definitely mad.

He dried his hands and left the bathroom.

Melanie didn't seem to be back yet. He went to the kitchen. The thoughts of Sparkey's had whetted his thirst. He found several bottles of Corona beer in the refrigerator. Taking one out, he felt a small tug of guilt.

It's not as if I'm stealing the thing, he told himself. Joyce said we should make ourselves at home.

He searched a drawer, found a bottle opener, and pried off the cap.

She might not be quite so generous, however, if she knew what we've been doing.

h.e.l.l, it isn't her beer, anyway. It's Whit's. He's the breadwinner around here, the beer-winner. He certainly wouldn't begrudge me a brew. Look what I've gone through on his behalf.

Bodie took a drink. It was cold and very good. He sat at the table and drank some more.

Poor sod, he thought. They certainly screwed you over, Whit. Your law partner and your dear wife. You'll have some nasty surprises if you ever come to.

But did they run you down? Ah, there's the question.

Nice to make them pay, if they did.

And how do we go about that? Harrison, the slime, was smart enough not to use his own car. So where do we go from here?

I guess we don't have to go anywhere from here. Melanie has already hurled the c.r.a.pola into the fan. We only have to sit back and watch where it flies.

Perchance to duck.

Taking her one long time to fetch her purse.

Bodie suddenly knew why.

He set down his beer bottle and sighed.

'Melanie,' he muttered. 'Oh, for Christsake.'

He walked out to the street. His van was gone, all right.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Pen carried her laundry basket down the stairs and past the pool in the courtyard. The apartment building was silent and she saw no one. A typical Sunday afternoon. The tenants were either gone, or hidden away in their rooms.

She entered the short pa.s.sageway between the courtyard and alley. The utility room's door stood ajar. It was supposed to be kept locked to prevent vandalism and unauthorized use of the machines. Alicia, from the corner apartment, had told her once about walking in on a shopping cart lady doing her wash - a filthy woman who screeched and jibbered like a lunatic when Alicia confronted her.

Pen set down her basket and swung the door wide. She peered into the gloom. Seeing no one, she reached around the corner and turned on the overhead light. The room looked deserted. The two washers and two driers were silent. She picked up her basket and entered.

The was.h.i.+ng machines were top loaders. She opened each and looked inside. They were empty.

My lucky day, she thought.

She had separated her laundry before coming down. Bending over her basket, she lifted out a bundle of white fabrics. A sock fell to the floor on its way to the machine. She squatted to pick it up.

'Beautiful a.s.s.'

She flinched. Her head snapped around so fast she hurt her neck.

In the doorway stood Manny Hammond from 202. He'd played football at USC and usually wore a jersey to remind everyone of his glory days. This afternoon, he wasn't wearing the jersey - just a pair of faded red gym shorts and thongs. The shorts were extremely tight.

'You startled me,' Pen said. She picked up the sock and dropped it into the machine.

'You gotta loosen up.'

'I'll keep that in mind.'

d.a.m.n it, where'd he come from?

'Aren't you missing a game on TV?' she asked.

'Why would I watch a game when I can watch you?' He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his ankles, and folded his arms across his ma.s.sive chest.

With a sigh, Pen crouched to pick up her bleach and detergent. She could feel his gaze. She straightened up. Her hand trembled as she filled the measuring cup.

'Gotcha rattled, huh?'

'You didn't have to sneak up on me like that,' she said, keeping her eyes away from him as she dumped the detergent, then the bleach, into the washer. She closed the lid. She turned on the machine and heard water rush in.

'Why don't you toss in the rest?' he suggested, grinning. That stuff you got on looks like it could use a good wash.'