though. Town speculation had it that Wick Hapson fathered Axel. He’s been working with Maggie from the start, and they live together.”
“The man in the ticket booth?” Donna asked.
“Right-o.”
“Charming family,” Jud said. “It looked like the house didn’t have any windows.”
“It doesn’t.”
“How come?” Sandy asked.
“So the beast can’t get in, of course.”
“Oh.” The girl sounded as if she regretted asking.
The dirt road widened and ended.
“Ah we’re here! Just park anywhere, Judge.”
He turned the car around so it headed out, and parked off to the side of the road.
“You’ll absolutely adore this beach,” Larry said, getting out.
Before opening his door, Jud watched Donna. As he’d assumed, she was wearing a swimsuit under the shirt: the bottom part of one, at least. Its blue fabric shined at him when she bent to climb out.
He joined the others beside the car. The wind felt good, cutting the heat like a cool spray.
“Are we off?” Larry asked Donna.
“We off?” she asked Jud.
“I’m ready. You ready, Sandy?”
“You’re
They walked single file along a narrow trail that angled downward between two sandy hills. Jud squinted into the wind. It fluttered in his ears, batting away all but the loudest words as Larry told of a childhood experience at the beach.
After they rounded a curve in the trail, the ocean came into view. Its choppy blue was frothing with rows of whitecaps. Waves slammed against a rocky point. Just this side of the point, the waves washed quietly onto a stretch of sand. Jud could see nobody down there.
“Ah wonderful!” Larry yelled, spreading his arms and sniffing a deep breath. “Last one to the beach is a rotten egg!” He began to run. Sandy chased after him.
Jud turned to Donna. “Don’t you feel like racing?”
“Nope.” Wind threw strands of hair across her face. Jud brushed them away. He couldn’t look away from her eyes.
“I bet I know why,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re afraid I’ll beat you.”
“Is that it?” Her eyes were amused, but serious, as if she wouldn’t permit herself to be distracted by his banter.
“That’s it,” he said.
“Is your name really Judgment?”
“It really is.”
“I wish we were alone, Judgment.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her against him, feeling the press of her body, the light touch of her hands against his back, the smooth, moist opening of her lips.
“We’re not alone,” she said after a while.
“I guess we’d better quit, huh?”
“While the quitting’s good.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s good,” Jud said.
“Me neither.”
Holding hands, they walked down the trail. Below, Sandy was running across the beach just ahead of Larry. She splashed into the water. Larry stopped at the water’s edge and dropped to his knees. The girl waved for him to come in, but he shook his head. “Come on!” Jud heard through the noise of the wind and surf.
Sandy pranced in the water, crouched and splashed at Larry.
“We’d better hurry,” Donna said, “before my charming daughter gets carried away and drags him in.”
Even as she said it, the girl ran ashore and began to tug one of Larry’s arms.
“Leave him alone, Sandy!”
Larry, still on his knees, managed to look around. “It’s really all right, Donna,” he called. “She’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Letting go of his arm, Sandy circled behind him and leaped onto his back. “Giddyap!” she shouted.
He lunged and twisted, scrambling through the sand on hands and knees, making a noise that sounded, at first, like the whinny of a horse. Then he was on his feet. Sandy, clutching him tightly around the neck, looked back at Donna and Jud. Though she said nothing, her face showed fear. Larry swung himself in a circle, tugging at the girl’s arms, and Jud saw terror in his wide eyes. His whinnies were ragged gasps of panic. He pranced and bucked, trying to tear himself free.
“Oh my God!” Donna cried, and broke into a run.
Jud raced past her toward the girl now screaming in horror.
“Larry, stop!” he yelled.
The man didn’t seem to hear. He kept jumping and writhing, pulling frantically at the girl’s arms.
Then Sandy was falling backward, her legs still hugging Larry’s hips but her arms loose and flailing. One of her small hands clutched Larry’s collar. The shirt split down his back, and he screamed. Jud caught the falling girl. He pulled her free.
Larry spun, looking at them, his eyes wild. He began backing away. He fell. Propping himself on an elbow, he still gazed at them. Slowly, the strangeness left his face. His harsh breathing grew calm.
Jud left Sandy in her mother’s arms and went to him.
“She shouldn’t…have jumped on my back.” His voice was a high whine. “Not on my
“It’s all right now,” Jud said.
“Not on my back.” He lay on the sand, covering his eyes with his forearms, and wept silently.
Jud knelt beside him. “It’s all right, Larry. It’s all over.”
“It’s not over. It’ll never be over. Never.”
“You gave the kid a terrible scare.”
“I kno-o-o-w,” he said, stretching the word like a groan of misery. “I’m sor-ry. Maybe…if I apologize.”
“Might help.”
He sniffed, and wiped his eyes. When he sat up, Jud saw the scars. They criss-crossed his shoulders and back in a savage tracery more white than his pale skin.
“They’re not from the beast, if that’s what you think. I got them from my fall. The beast never touched me. Never.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roy made certain, once again, that Joni was securely tied. Probably it didn’t matter. She’d obviously lost her marbles. But Roy wanted nothing left to chance.
In the living room, he bent down and lit the candle. He patted the newspaper wads to make certain, once again, they were touching the candle stick. Then he headed for the kitchen, stepping high, his feet crushing the newspaper wads and clothes he’d scattered along the floor.
The fire might not destroy all the evidence, but it couldn’t hurt.
He put on sunglasses and a faded Dodger cap that had belonged to Marv, and went out the back door. Pulling it shut, he twisted his hand to smear prints on the knob. He trotted down three steps to the patio, then hurried to
