The Midnight Tour

But he didn’t do such things.

Ever.

We’ll never find the house anyway, he told himself as they drove past the Welcome Inn and headed up Pacific Coast Highway.

“That’s it!” John blurted, stopping his car at the foot of a driveway. The rural mail box beside the driveway not only showed the address they wanted, but bore the names Tucker and Crogan.

The sight of the names gave Owen a sudden sickish feeling down low inside.

Dusk had already deepened into night. The driveway curved uphill into dark, heavy woods. There was no sign of a house, or any light.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Owen said.

“Good idea.”

John sped forward, leaving the driveway behind. But just up the road, just around a curve, he stopped his car and shut off its headlights. “We’ll walk from here.”

“Let’s just leave,” Owen said. “Let’s go back to town. Come on. We’ll think of something else to do.”

“I know what I’m gonna do. Gonna find the fuckin’ house and see what the babes are up to. You don’t wanta come, stay here.”

“We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“Not if we don’t get caught.” John opened his door. “You coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“Live a little, man. Don’t be a loser all your life.”

“I’m not a loser.”

“I’m going. With our without you.” John climbed out, eased his door shut, then hurried around to the trunk.

Owen followed and found him twisting a telephoto lens onto his camera.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t.”

“We’ll get doubles made. That’s if we get lucky and find anyone worth shooting.”

“You can’t do this.”

“Sure I can. That’s the difference between me and you, buddy. You wanta do shit, I do it.” Laughing, John slammed the trunk shut. “Come if you’re coming.”

“You asshole.”

“I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Bullshit.”

Together, they left the road and started climbing the dark, wooded hillside.

John gasped and huffed for breath.

Owen smiled. He said, “Hope you don’t have a heart attack, you fat piece of shit.”

“Eat me,” John said.

It took some hard work and searching, but at last they found the house.

Then they crept around its perimiter, staying in the shadows of the forest, and came upon a swimming pool behind the house. Though the pool was deserted, its lights were on. It shimmered, clear and blue. Steam was drifting off the surface of the hot spa over at the pool’s far corner.

“Let’s...stick around,” John whispered, out of breath. “See what happens.”

“We oughta just go.”

“Not me, man. This is perfect.” He panted for air, then continued. “You wanta chicken out, go ahead. I’m staying. I’m not gonna miss this.”

“We’re trespassing.”

“Big fucking deal.”

“If we get thrown in jail, we could miss the Midnight Tour.”

“Hey, man, that’s a chance I’ll take...You know what we got here? Lynn’s gonna come outa the house...any minute...and take herself a swim. Maybe go in the jacuzzi.” After pausing for air, he went on. “And who knows what the fuck she’ll be wearing? Maybe nothing!... No neighbors, man...She might go skinny-dipping...Dana, too.”

“Dana’s on a date.”

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. You wanta...miss a chance to see her skinny-dipping?”

Owen didn’t need to think about that one. “I guess not,” he whispered.

“You guess.”

Not that it’ll happen. Great stuff like that never happens. Not to me.

They found a good place to hide in the bushes near the end of the pool, directly across from the hot spa. Kneeling down, they began to wait.

Though lights were on inside the house, all the curtains were shut. Owen couldn’t see through them. Nor could he hear any sounds from the house. The wind was loud in the trees and bushes.

Maybe nobody’s home.

Somebody must be, he told himself. You don’t go off and leave your pool lights on. For that matter, you don’t crank up your hot spa unless you’re planning to use it.

Somebody has to be home...and has to come out.

But nobody did.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen.

Watching the steam rise, Owen wished he could jump into the spa. He wished he’d worn his windbreaker. Or even a long-sleeved shirt. He thought about how badly he would like to be back in the warmth of his room at the Welcome Inn.

After half an hour of waiting, Owen swayed sideways, bumped his shoulder against John and whispered, “Now can we go?”

“Go whenever you want to. I’m staying.”

“How long?”

“Long as it takes.”

“Aren’t you freezing?”

“Ask me if I care.”

“This is insane.”

“Think so? What if I wimp out and take off—and two minutes later, out come the babes...bare-ass naked?”

“Like that’s gonna happen.”

“You’ll never find out if you go running away like a...”

At the back of the house, a curtain was sliding aside. Owen saw someone behind the glass door. As he tried to figure out who it might be, the door glided open and Lynn stepped out.

John nudged him. “Here we go!”

Hardly able to believe this was really happening, Owen watched Lynn stride toward the hot spa at the corner of the pool. She wasn’t much compared to Dana, but she was cute, all right. Really cute. And what was she wearing?

White tennis shoes and no socks.

Hugged against her belly was a folded blue towel.

At the edge of the spa, she crouched and set down the towel.

Owen heard a click. It came from beside him. He knew what it was, but he didn’t look.

Couldn’t take his eyes off Lynn as she stood up.

Didn’t care that she wasn’t naked.

Her swimsuit looked like small, buttery patches of doe skin tied to her body with leather strings.

John clicked more photos. His automatic film advance made a quiet buzzing sound after each shot.

Lynn didn’t seem to hear the camera.