Grimacing, she nodded. “That’s number one. Next, we’ve got to really crash the van into something.”
“So it’ll have dents and stuff,” Toby said.
“That’s right.”
“You really are smart.”
“Can you guess what else we need to do?”
“Clean all the blood and shit outa the van?”
“Sooner or later, yeah. Come on, think. You read books about serial killers, don’t you?”
“Yeeeahh. I know! Get rid of the license plates!”
“That’s it!”
“Switch ’em with some other car.”
“Right.”
The excitement draining out of his voice, he said, “Only I’d need to have tools or something.”
“A screwdriver is all,” Sherry said. “Then just switch the plates with any car that’s handy, throw away Duane’s registration or whatever, and Sid’ll never have any reason to think the van isn’t mine.”
“That’d be so great. But where’m I gonna get the screwdriver?”
“Speed-D-Mart.”
“You mean like walk into a store? In my robe?”
“I’ll go in,” Sherry said.
“Oh, sure. You oughta see what you look like.”
“I can clean myself up a little…”
“Besides, how do I know you won’t tell on me?”
“Take my word on it?”
“Oh, sure. Anyway, we can’t buy anything even if we did go in. How much money have you got on you?”
“None.”
“Same here,” Toby said. “Wanta take a wild guess at where my money is?”
“Locked in Duane’s apartment?”
“That’s about the size of it, thanks to you know who.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Sure you are.”
“But I might know an easy way to lay our hands on some cash.”
“Yeah?”
“Unless you already did something with it, there should be a wallet back there.” She jabbed her thumb toward the rear of the van.
“Huh?” Toby asked.
“Has Duane still got his clothes on?”
“Yeah! Told you, I ain’t a pervert.”
“When he left his apartment tonight, he had a wallet in the back pocket of his shorts. It probably has lots of cash in it.”
“Holy shit,” Toby said.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You gonna stay put?” Toby asked.
“Whatever you want,” Sherry told him. “Do you need me to help with something?”
“Just don’t try running away.”
“I won’t.”
“Maybe you better stay here.”
“All right.”
“Put on your seat belt.”
Sherry pulled the seat belt down across her chest and lap and snapped its buckle into place.
Toby plucked out the ignition key. With the key in one hand and his knife in the other, he climbed between the seats. He stepped behind Sherry and said, “I’m just gonna put this around you.” A strap of some sort dropped past her eyes, fell onto her shoulders for a moment, then closed softly around her neck.
It seemed to be a cloth belt. Probably from the robe Toby was wearing.
“I’m just gonna tie it to the headrest,” he explained. “It’s for your own good. ’Cause if you try and run away again, I’ll have to kill you.”
“I won’t try to run. But if this makes you feel better, fine.”
“There. How’s that?”
“Fine.”
“Not too tight?”
“No.” Leaning forward slightly, she felt the belt press against her throat. She settled back in her seat and the pressure went away. “It’s okay,” she said.
“Good. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Oh, that’s obvious.
Toby’s hand came over the top of the seat back and patted her right shoulder. Then it moved downward, pressing her gently through her blouse, until his fingers covered her breast.
Sherry wanted to shove his hand away.
She resisted the urge.
I try to stop him, he’ll do something worse.
He slid her blouse to the side and his hand drifted over the bare skin of her breast.
The feel of it gave Sherry gooseflesh. As the bumps crawled over her body, her nipples grew hard and stiff. Her right nipple prodded Toby’s hand. Moaning, he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger.
She grabbed his wrist. “Stop it,” she said.
“Let go.”
“You let go.” She tried to pull his hand away.
He twisted her nipple and she yelped with pain, but then he let go and she released his wrist and he swatted the side of her face.
Not saying a word, he went away.
The pain quickly subsided from Sherry’s nipple and face, leaving them hot and tingly. She blinked tears out of her eyes. As they slid down her cheeks, she took deep, trembling breaths.
Stupid! What’d I try to stop him for? All it did was give him an excuse to hurt me.
He probably liked it, she thought. Hell, he probably loved it.
Next time, just let him do what he wants.
“All right!” Toby blurted from the rear of the van. “Got it!”
“Go to hell,” Sherry said.
Idiot! Don’t piss him off!
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Want me to come up there?”
No!
Afraid to answer his question, she asked, “How much money