“Heavy sleeper,” Dana suggested.
“Who knows.”
“I hope she got home all right.”
“Like we don’t have enough to worry about.”
“Should we call 911?”
“About us or Eve?”
“Us. I think it’d be a little premature to call the cops about Eve.”
“I don’t want to call them period—have one of those assholes like Cochran show up in half an hour or so. You start telling
Dana’s purse was hanging by its strap from the closet door.
She walked over to it, reached in, and pulled out the pistol Eve had loaned to her.
“How do you suppose he keeps getting in?” she asked.
Tuck shook her head. “No idea. But I know he’ll never get in
Chapter Forty-six
OWEN’S BAD NIGHT
They were chasing Owen over a sunny, deserted stretch of beach.
He was terrified, but he didn’t know why. They were Dana and Lynn and the beautiful stranger from the Jacuzzi. They looked great. They were golden in the sunlight. Except for their cowboy hats and western boots, they were naked
But they were
He wasn’t sure what would happen if they caught him, but he knew it would be horrible.
He wasn’t sure what they’d done to John. All he knew was that his friend had been running just behind him down the beach and then he was gone.
Something monstrous.
He glanced back.
They were so much closer than before!
He felt a scream rising in his chest.
And suddenly he heard the
It raced closer, closer.
Glancing back, he saw the women stop running.
Laughing with relief, he ran toward the dune buggy.
As it bore down on him, he saw that the driver wasn’t John.
The driver was Monica, teeth bared, glee in her violet eyes, her raven hair blowing wild. Her arms and shoulders were bare. Tied around her neck was a silk scarf. It matched her eyes, and flowed behind her in the wind.
Morning. At last.
But the engine sound was real.
Heart pounding, Owen scurried off the bed and ran to the window. He pulled its heavy curtains apart. Sunlight flooded his room.
Over to the right, a white Porsche was backing out of a parking space. It stopped for a moment, its engine rumbling. Then it swung away and thundered toward the exit.
Owen let his hands fall. The curtains stayed open.
He scanned the entire courtyard, looking for John’s old Ford.
Most of the parking spaces were empty.
They’d been packed last night when he finally got back. By then, the Welcome Inn’s neon “No Vacancy” sign had been glowing by the side of the road.
He’d sure been glad to see that sign.
Up in the wooded hills last night, waiting for John, Owen feared that he would never get back.
He sat in the car all alone, surrounded by darkness.
Afraid a hand might reach in and grab him, he soon rolled up the windows and locked the doors. But with all fresh air cut off, strange, disgusting odors seemed to rise around him and envelop him.
He tried to put up with the stink.
Then he thought,
He didn’t exactly believe that, so it took a lot of courage to open the door and climb out.
It was good to get away from the nasty odors.
But he felt exposed.
After standing in front of the car for a while, he climbed up and sat on its hood.
And sat there.
Surrounded by darkness.
Shivering with cold and fear.
He stuck with it, though.
He frequently checked his wristwatch. Each minute seemed to last for ten. When his watch showed 11:30, he told himself that he would wait till midnight.
On the way up, he hadn’t paid close attention to the route. A downhill course, however, should take him to Front Street somewhere north of town. Make a left, and he’d get to the Welcome Inn sooner or later.
It’s probably no more than four or five miles, he thought.
Don’t rip it up, he told himself. Turn it in at the ticket office and get a refund.
Or scalp it tomorrow night. I can probably sell it for a lot more than I paid for it. Maybe a hundred and fifty, two hundred bucks. I should shoot for two hundred...
At 11:41, Owen heard crunching noises in the woods to his right.
