Helltown - Jeremy Bates Page 0,79

the clicking ice machine and took the stairs to the first floor. The reception was deserted. The old cheat was likely in bed sleeping, or at the hospital with his sons. Beetle stepped through the front doors, into the rain and wind.

While he was halfway down the steep staircase that led to the parking lot he heard the rev of a car engine. He took the steps two at a time, ignoring the knot of pain bouncing around inside his head.

At the bottom he stepped into blinding headlights. Brakes screeched. Shading his eyes, he went to the car.

Greta rolled down the driver’s window and stuck her head out, beaming. “You changed your mind!” she said.

“Yeah, but I think we should walk,” he told her. “Because if there really are Satanists at the church like you think, we’re going to need be discrete about this.”

CHAPTER 25

“Oh yes, there will be blood.”

Saw II (2005)

As Spencer drove through the gate in the split-rail fence and down the gravel driveway toward to the House in the Woods, he frowned as he passed Cleavon’s pickup truck, which was tipped over on its side like a toy that had been tossed to the broken pile. He parked the Volvo and hurried through the rain to the sagging front porch where everyone was waiting for him: Cleavon, Jesse, Earl, Floyd, and Weasel. There were also two women at Cleavon’s feet. They were hogtied and gagged and staring up at him with red, terrified eyes.

“So,” Spencer said heartily, “having some car trouble, are we, Cleave?”

“Don’t get me started,” Cleavon growled.

“I told you, it was an accident,” Earl said, holding a bloodied dish towel against his neck. “I didn’t mean to, I told you that, she was just too quick.”

“What happened to you neck, Earl?” Spencer asked.

“He almost let the tiny bitch get away, that’s what,” Cleavon said. “She sliced him with my razor, jumped in my truck, and almost got away.”

“But she didn’t,” Spencer said.

“No, she didn’t. But look at my fucking truck, Spence! I’m gonna need all new side panels, a new headlight, and a new window. And you think Earl got the money to pay for that? You think his rabbits gonna pay for that?”

“Aw, Cleave,” Earl complained. “I told ya, I told ya a hundred times, I didn’t mean it.”

Spencer held up his hand to command silence. “The truck’s not important right now. What I want to know is what exactly went on here tonight. Who would like to explain this to me from the beginning? Weasel? Cleavon tells me this is all your doing?”

Weasel Higgins had his scrawny arms folded across his chest, the beak of his cap pulled low over his forehead, as if he were trying to hide. “No it wasn’t, Mr. Pratt, I wasn’t even here when the truck crashed—”

Cleavon whacked him across the back of the head. “He’s talking about Stanford Road and all the shit that’s happened ’cause of your stupidity, stupid.”

Weasel swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a quickly moving elevator. “I don’t know it’s fair to say that, Mr. Pratt, to say it’s all my doing. Cleave, he’s the one who let that redhead get away.”

“She wouldn’t have gotten away,” Cleavon told him, scowling, “if you hadn’t gone messing with two cars in the first place.” He took an angry drag of the cigarette he was smoking and flicked what remained into the night.

“I’m not blaming anyone,” Spencer said calmly. “I merely want an explanation. The account you told me on the phone, Cleave, was brief, to say the least.”

“Yeah, well, okay then,” Weasel said, lifting his cap and clawing his hand through his oily hair. “Well, I was patrolling Standford Road, like we talked about last meeting. It being Halloween and all, there was gonna be some does, right? So eventually I come to these two cars parked next to Crybaby. Problem was, I drove by so fast I didn’t get a good look inside them, didn’t know there were so many people. That was the problem.” He studied the others warily, as if to see if anyone would challenge this claim.

Cleavon jumped on the opportunity. “That’s not what you told me on the phone, you lying shit. You told me—and Jess, mind you—you told us there were seven people inside ’em.”

“I did not.”

“Jess?” Cleavon said.

Jesse Gordon stood off on his own, chewing bubblegum. “Ayuh, Weasel,” he said, looking at his feet. “You said seven.”

“What the fuck?” Weasel said. “You two ganging up