discovery. Maybe a little less ef-fete in his next life. Maybe escalate a little. Stay unencumbered. Stay solitary.
He drove along the western shoreline toward downtown. He passed the Ingersoll house. A Paradise police cruiser was parked outside. He smiled. You think I’m after her, Jesse. Not a bad guess. I would like to see that picture. But I’m not that stupid. He drove on into the old part of town. It was a nice town. It was the best place he’d lived since Mr. O had overtaken him. And soon he’d leave it forever. And go somewhere else. And do what he did. For the rest of his life. He turned up Molly Crane’s street. Nothing unusual. He drove past her house. Nice.
Weathered shingles. Blue shutters. A basketball hoop on the garage. Domestic. Well, we’ll shake that up a little, won’t we? He turned in the cul-de-sac at the end of the street and drove back down. He went up the next street, where he could look through and see her backyard.
Everything as it should be. He circled the neighborhood a few times. No cops. No cruisers.
Nothing unusual. He looked at the dashboard clock. Ten-thirty. Why not? Why not now? He felt his chest tighten. He felt the feeling in his belly. He turned back around the block and onto her street. She’d have taken her shower by now. And dressed in clean clothes. Probably making beds now, and doing laundry and cleaning house. He parked at the corner of the street and got out. He didn’t need the ski mask this time. They knew who he was already. He began to walk up the street toward her house with the derringer in the right-hand pocket of his jacket, and his camera in the left. She was a policewoman. What if she had a gun? Probably not doing housework. But what if she could get it? Well, he had a gun. He felt the small jag of fear push past the other feelings. That was both good news and bad. It was the police part that was so enticing. The badge and gun were no match for the Night Hawk. The uniform stripped away. The secret revealed. He’d have his pictures. And he’d be gone. And next week he’d have new territory to explore. New secrets to reveal. In the next town. And the next. For the rest of his life. God! His heart was beating hard now, and his breathing was quick. He was afraid. But the desire smothered the fear. He had jumped off the cliff. There was no stopping himself now. He reached her front door. He turned the knob and it opened. Very quietly, he went in.
73
IN THE kitchen, Molly hung up the phone and turned on the wire. When she went into the living room she had to fake the surprise, because Jesse had just told her he was coming in. But she didn’t have to fake the fear. That was real. He pointed the little silver derringer at her.
“Who are you?” she said.
“I think you know,” he said.
“What do you want?” she said.
“I think you know that, too,” he said.
“You’re the Night Hawk,” she said.
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“Remove your clothes,” he said.
His voice sounded to Molly as if it had a small quiver in it.
“Remove my clothes?”
“Now,” he said.
“In front of you?”
“I like to watch,” he said.
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll shoot you,” he said.
“Don’t do that,” Molly said.
“Then start the striptease,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Molly said. “Here I go.”
She began slowly to unbutton her shirt.
Come on, Jesse,she thought. If Suit actually sees me in my underwear, I’ll shoot myself . .
. or him.
“What’s so funny,” the Night Hawk said.
“There’s nothing funny,” Molly said.
“You were smiling.”
Molly unbuttoned the last button on her shirt.
“I do that when I’m nervous,” Molly said.
“Take off the shirt,” he said.
Shirt isn’t bad,she thought. Line of duty and all that . But she had taped a gun to the inside of her right thigh. If she dropped her skirt, he’d see it, and then what? If she had to drop the skirt, she’d come up with the gun. And the hell with Jesse and Suit.
She didn’t have to. Looking past Seth Ralston, she saw the knob turn silently on her front door. She began to beg loudly.
“Please,” she said. “Please don’t make me do this. Please.”
It covered any sound of entry, and, she could see, it pleased Ralston.
“Sorry, honey,” Ralston said. “The clothes gotta come off. The quicker they do, the quicker it’s over.”
“Freeze right there,” Jesse said.
Ralston turned his head and saw Jesse, and Suitcase Simpson, each with a gun drawn and aimed, Jesse to his
