“It’s a long story,” Jake said. “And we’re almost home.”
“Maybe it’s something I should know.”
Jake didn’t answer. He steered around the final corner, checked once more to be sure there was no Volkswagen in sight, then swung into the driveway of his house.
Alison held the hem of her negligee to prevent it from sliding up as she scooted off the car seat. Jake shut the door after she was out. He walked backward across his yard, a hand resting on his holstered gun, his head turning slowly, eyes scanning the neighborhood as if he expected Roland to charge out of the darkness.
He didn’t seem nervous, though. Just careful. Alison felt safe with him. She didn’t like knowing that he would leave just minutes from now.
He opened the house door. Alison followed him inside. The lights were already on, the curtains shut. The warmth of the house felt good after the chill outside.
“Just make yourself at home,” Jake said. “The kitchen’s over here.”
He led the way. Alison began to unbutton her sweater, but stopped when she realized what she was wearing under it.
Jake turned on the kitchen light. “There’s food, soft drinks, beer in the refrigerator. Help yourself.” He pointed at a cupboard. “Hard stuff in there, in case you get the urge.”
“What’s your daughter’s usual bedtime?”
“Oh, Kimmy’s not…” He laughed softly. “What’s your hourly rate?”
“In my prime, five bucks per hour. For Kimmy, no charge.”
“That’s good, since she isn’t here.” They left the kitchen. “Sofa,” he announced, walking in front of it. “Where I’ll stretch out when I get back. Television.” He bent over the coffee table, picked up the remote control, and turned the TV on and off, demonstrating. He smiled a bit self-consciously.
Alison followed him to the bathroom. He flicked on its light. “Fine if you want to take a bath or shower or something,” he said and blushed slightly.
“I could use one.”
“There’re towels and stuff in the closet here.”
He nodded as they passed a dark doorway. “Kimmy’s room. Her bed’s a little small for you.” He opened the door of a linen closet and pulled folded sheets and a pillowcase down from the shelves. Then he stepped into his room. He turned the light on. The bed was unmade. Alison guessed that he had been sleeping when the call came tonight.
He walked over to the bed. “Want to give me a hand with the sheets?” he asked.
“I’ll take care of that,” Alison told him.
“Well…”
“No problem,” she said. “It’ll give me something to do after you’re gone.” It was a small lie. She had no intention of taking his bed, forcing him to sleep on the sofa when he returned from hunting down Roland.
Jake set the sheets and pillowcase on the end of the bed. He entered his closet. When he came out, he was holding a shotgun. “Have you ever fired one of these?” he asked.
Alison nodded. “I’ve gone duck hunting with Dad a few times. Hell,
He handed the shotgun to her.
It was a bolt-action .12 gauge. She opened the bolt enough to see a shell in the chamber, then closed it.
“There’re three more in the clip,” Jake said.
“Okay.”
“Keep it close to you. Just don’t shoot me when I come back.”
Alison smiled.
The color suddenly drained from his face.
“What is it?”
“Maybe that wasn’t such great advice.” He sat on the end of the bed and frowned up at her. “I want you to brace the bedroom door shut before you turn in. If I try to force my way in, use the shotgun.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I don’t expect anything like that to happen, but…When you come out in the morning, keep me covered if I’m here and have me take my shirt off. Then take a good look at my back. If there’s a bulge going up my spine as if I’ve got a snake under my skin, blow me away. Try to hit the bulge. If you don’t nail the thing, it’ll probably come out as soon as I’m dead and it might come after you.”
She stared at Jake.
He meant it.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered.
Alison was numb.
Jake stood up. “You okay?”
She stared at him.
He stepped close to her. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I had to tell you.”
The weight of the shotgun pulled her arms down.
He lifted it away from her, took her gently by one elbow, and led her down the hall to the living room. He guided her to the sofa. She sank onto it. He propped the shotgun beside her, went away, and came back.
“Maybe this will help,” he said. He placed a mug of beer with a white frothy head into her hand. He ripped open a bag of potato chips and set it on the cushion so it rested against the side of her thigh. She smelled the pleasant aromas of the beer and chips. From the odor, she knew that the chips were sour cream and onion flavor.
One of Helen’s favorites.
She looked up at Jake.
He managed a thin smile, but his eyes were sad. “Everything will be okay,” he said. Then he crouched in front of her. “Alison.”
“Huh?”
“You’re acting zoned.”
“I’ll be all right,” she heard herself say. “In a while.”
“What I just told you, it’s a secret. Right? At least until Tuesday. Then we’ll be going public with it.”
“Nobody will believe it.”
“You do.”
“I wish I didn’t.”
Jake put a hand on her knee. “Get a good night’s sleep.”
She pressed a hand on top of his. “Watch out,” she said. “Come back safe.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The second floor hallway of the dorm was deserted. Only a few of the overhead fluorescent lights had been left on for the night, giving off a cool, desolate illumination that added to Jake’s uneasiness. Bands of light showed beneath some of the doors. Jake heard music coming from one of the rooms and the sound of a shower from the bathroom.
He stopped in front of Roland’s door. No light came through the gap at its bottom. Taking out his wallet, he
