Come Out Tonight - By Richard Laymon Page 0,107

the half of his face that Brenda could see, he was frowning. He reached over and put a hand on Fran’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing,” he said.

She looked at him and almost smiled.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he added.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“I think you look great.”

“She’d look better if she lost the stupid sweatshirt,” Quentin said. “She’d feel better, too. And the rest of us wouldn’t have to freeze.”

Fran looked back at him. “I can’t take it off. I’ve got nothing on underneath.”

Quentin’s eyes widened. “Whoa!” he said. “All the more reason.”

Fran laughed and faced the front.

Chapter Fifty-four

“It’s the next street,” Pete said. “But maybe you’d better stop.”

“Here?” Sherry asked.

“Yeah. If we go on into the cul-de-sac, he might see us.”

“If he’s still hanging around,” Jeff said.

Sherry pulled over to the curb and stopped.

“I don’t think Toby’d drive over here,” Pete said, “then just take a quick look around and rush off. You know? He went to all that trouble to get the address and…”

“He has to kill me,” Sherry said.

“Has to try,” Pete corrected her. “What kind of car does he drive?”

“I don’t know. Last night he was in a Mustang, but he lost the keys and had to leave it on the street. Then he had Duane’s van. I guess he might still be using the van, but that’d be awfully stupid. The cops must be looking for it. He probably ditched it somewhere. Maybe he’s picked up the Mustang by now.” She shook her head again, very slightly. “I don’t know. He could be driving just about anything, I guess.”

“That’s what I’ll look for,” Pete said. “Wait here, okay?” He reached under his seat and pulled his revolver out of the towel. “Why don’t you guys hang on to this till I get back?”

“I’ll take it,” Jeff said.

“Are you sober yet?”

“Hey, dude, I didn’t drink any more than you.”

Sherry looked at Jeff in the rear-view mirror. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Does a moose poop in the woods?”

“His parents don’t allow any guns in the house,” Pete said, “but he’s gone shooting with my family a few times. He knows how to handle it okay.”

“Okay? I’m a regular Wild Bill Hickok.”

“In your dreams,” Pete told him.

“He can take it,” Sherry said. “I’ll deal with the car.”

“Sounds good.” Pete opened the passenger door.

“Be careful,” Sherry said. “Just take a look and come back. Don’t go searching for him.”

“I’ll just check out the cars.”

He shut the door, then walked to the corner. Turning his head to the right, he stepped off the curb. Instead of stopping to take a long look up the road, he strolled slowly toward the other side.

There were two houses on each side of the straightaway leading in, plus three around the circle. Most of them had vehicles parked in their driveways and along their front curbs.

The driveway of his own house was empty. So was the driveway of the deserted house next door. But a car and a pick-up truck were parked along the bend of the curb.

He saw no Mustang.

The only van in sight, parked in a nearby driveway, was a bright new Chevy that his neighbors had bought a month ago.

Pete stepped onto the curb, kept walking until he passed a redwood fence, then crossed the street and looped back to his car. He stepped up to the driver’s side.

Sherry looked up at him from the open window.

He bent toward her. “I didn’t see anything obvious,” he said, “but there’re a lot of cars parked around. He could be anywhere.”

“I’m the only one he can recognize,” Sherry said. “Why don’t you and Jeff get in the front? I’ll lie down on the floor in back.”

“Good idea,” Pete said.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Jeff said. “You come back here, Sherry, and I’ll hide you under me.”

“Give it a rest,” Pete said.

“Just a suggestion.”

“Thanks anyway,” Sherry said, and climbed out.

In a matter of seconds, they were all in position. “Ready?” Pete asked.

“Let’s do it,” Sherry said, her voice sounding a little muffled.

Pete glanced at Jeff to make sure the revolver was out of sight. Then he drove around the corner and up the road. He used the remote control to open his garage door.

And to lower the door after they were inside.

He shut off the engine. “We’re back,” he said.

Behind him, Sherry grunted and moaned as she struggled to push herself off the floor. He looked over the seat back. So did Jeff.

“You okay?” he asked.

“It was easier…getting down.”

“Need help?”

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