“We’d better stick close to Sandy,” he said, tearing down her good feeling so that she wanted to cry.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
From the window of the end cabin, Roy watched Donna, Sandy, and two men enter Cabin 12. Her car was parked in front of 9. He guessed that 9 was her place, and 12 the men’s.
That simplified matters. Sometime during the night, Donna and Sandy would return to their cabin alone. Maybe in five minutes. Maybe not for hours. But sometime. Regardless, he would wait until after dark.
He looked around at the two beds, at the two girls tied to them and gagged. The older one, the owner’s kid, was still sniffing. He figured she was sixteen, maybe seventeen. He didn’t know her name. She’d been good, though. She’d been wet and slippery, and Roy suspected that she’d enjoyed herself. He’d spent nearly an hour with her after the four had walked off, probably for dinner. She hadn’t started crying until afterward. Guilt, more than likely.
He wondered why no one had come around looking for her. Maybe her folks were used to her disappearing.
Roy lifted an edge of the curtain, and looked again at Cabin 12. The door was still shut.
He looked around at the girls. Right now, he didn’t want either of them. Still, they were nice to look at, lying there naked and powerless in the darkening room.
Later, maybe he could find time to take one of them.
Which?
Hell, he had lots of time to think about that. Lots of time.
He got up. The older girl’s eyes watched him closely as he approached her. He bent over the bed. He traced a circle around her right nipple, watching the dark skin pucker and grow rigid. “Like that?” he whispered, smiling down at her.
Then he jerked the pillow out from under her head, took it to the chair beside the window, and used it to cushion the straight wooden back. He sat down and leaned against the pillow. That felt much better.
He inched open the curtain and continued his watch.
CHAPTER TWENTY 1.
Leaving the others inside his cabin, Jud walked the perimeter of the Welcome Inn. He saw no Rolls-Royce nor any sign of a six-foot-two man who might be Donna’s ex-husband. He returned to his cabin. He motioned for Donna to come outside.
“Now,” he said, “we’ll go over to your place and wait for him.”
“What about Sandy?”
“Her, too.”
“Does she have to? I’d rather…I don’t want her to see him, if it’s possible.”
“Here’s the problem. He doesn’t seem to be around right now, but he might be. I could’ve missed him. If he’s watching, he’ll know we’ve left Sandy in 12. He might try for her.”
“Suppose she’s with us,” Donna said, “and Roy comes and somehow he…gets by you. Then he’s got Sandy. If we leave her with Larry and that happens, she’ll still be all right.”
“Whichever way you want it.”
“Do you think he’ll know, if we leave her in 12?”
“He might,” Jud admitted.
“But there’s a good chance he won’t?”
“I’d say so.”
“Okay. Let’s leave her in 12 with Larry.”
“Fine.”
He instructed Larry to stay inside, to keep the door locked and the curtains pulled, and, at the first sign of trouble, to fire a signal shot and lock himself and Sandy in the bathroom. Low in the tub, they should be be safe from bullets. Jud would come running. He’d be there five seconds after the first shot.
“Perhaps,” Larry said, “I can pot the bugger with my signal shot.”
“If he gives you a clean shot, take it. But don’t hang around waiting. You’ll be fairly safe once you’re in the tub with the bathroom door locked.”
Jud left him the rifle. He picked up Lilly Thorn’s diary. Then he and Donna crossed the shadowy parking area to Cabin 9.
He went in first, and searched it. When Donna was in, he locked the door and made sure the window curtains were completely shut. He turned on the lamp on the nightstand between the two beds.
“Where do you want me?” Donna asked.
“I’ll be on the floor here between the beds, so I’m out of sight. You might as well take one of the beds. Maybe this would be best,” he said, patting the one farthest from the door.
“Looks good to me. What’ll we do while we wait?”
“You can watch TV, if you want. Doesn’t matter. I want to see what Lilly’s got to say.”
“Can’t I?”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t I read it to you?”
“All right.” He smiled. He liked that idea. He liked it a lot.
Donna took off her sneakers. Her socks were white. Her feet looked very small to Jud. He watched her climb onto the bed and sit upright, bracing her back against the headboard.
He sat down on the floor between the beds. With a spare pillow, he padded the front of the nightstand, and leaned back. He placed his Colt .45 automatic on the floor beside him.
“All set?” Donna asked.
“All set.”
“ ‘My Diary,’ ” she began to read. “ ‘Being a True Account of My Life and Most Private Affairs.’ ” 2.
“ ‘January 1,’ ” she read. “I guess this whole thing’s 1903. ‘This being the first day of the new year, I devoted myself to solemn meditation. I gave proper thanks to the Lord for his bounty in providing me two fine boys, and the wherewithal to meet our needs. I asked Him to forgive my transgressions, but most of all to look kindly upon my dear Lyle, who had a fine noble heart and strayed from the path of righteousness only because he loved his family to a fault.’”
“He was a bank robber,” Jud said.
“But he had a noble heart.”
“Maybe you can skip some of this.”
“And get to the good part?” She slowly flipped the pages, scanning them. “Oh, here’s something. ‘February 12. I was sick at heart, today. The Lord continued to remind us that we are outcasts in this town. Several of the local youngsters attacked Earl and Sam as they were returning from school. The cowards wounded my boys with stones, then fell upon them, further bludgeoning them with fisticuffs and sticks. I know not the reason for their cruelty, only that its source lies in the reputation of the boys’ father.’ ”
Donna turned more pages. “Looks like she went around town for a few days, telling the parents what their kids had done. They were polite to her, but cold. She no sooner got done making the rounds than her boys got beaten up again. One had a bad knock on the head, so she went to a Dr. Ross. ‘Dr. Ross is a kindly, cheerful man of fortyodd years. He appears to bear no grudge against myself or the children because of our kinship to Lyle. On the contrary, he looks upon us with the kindliest eyes I have seen in many months. He assured me that I need not fear
