rest of him.”
“Jesus, Jack.”
“Anyway, I’ve got to call the bosses at Skull Island, or maybe Caligula Tate-”
“Settle down. Jack,” Angel said. “Grow some patience, huh?”
“I don’t have
“Okay. . I recognized one of the actresses in the movie-a redhead in black leather.”
“Oh shit. You’re kidding.”
“Jack, I couldn’t forget this woman if I tried,” Angel said. “Because the last time I saw her, I put a bullet in her head.”
The movie was called
“Recognize them with their clothes off?” Angel asked.
“I can make them out.” Jack sat on the bed, watching the screen. “Jo and Amy are definitely the two we ran into at the vet’s office. And the one with the wrist braces, Beth, she’s the one I knocked out when the gang grabbed Spike.”
Angel nodded. “So what are we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Jack looked at the video box, but the only address he found was a Las Vegas post office box. “I guess we could get in touch with the investigator Freddy was using. Maybe the guy could use the video to track them down.”
On screen, Jo and Amy and Beth were taking turns with Professor Bhaer.
Angel shook her head in disbelief. “I guess they left this part out of the Winona Ryder version.”
Jack grabbed the telephone. “I’ll give Freddy a call.”
“Wait a minute.” Angel snatched up the remote control and thumbed the rewind button. “There’s something else you need to see. Something I forgot about.”
Oh, man, Jack thought. Don’t tell me Grandma plays the mother. .
Angel restarted the tape. She fast-forwarded through several phone sex advertisements and hit the pause button when a notice from the producer appeared on screen:
WARNING! ADULTS ONLY!
Not to be sold to or viewed by minors.
This videocassette contains adult viewing material and is rated X.
All actors and actresses are 18 years of age or older.
Proof of age is on file at:
EVIL EYE PRODUCTIONS
36 Arroyo Blanco Drive
Las Vegas, NV 89030
Jack headed for the door. Angel followed him. “Where are you going?”
“Thirty-six Arroyo Blanco Drive,” Jack said.
“Don’t you think it would be smarter to let Grandpa handle this?”
Jack stopped short and turned to face her, his voice registering exasperation when he spoke. “I haven’t always been a Chihuahua baby-sitter, Angel. In fact, when your granddad has a problem of this nature. I’m the guy who usually handles it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“You don’t need to apologize.” Jack put a hand on her shoulder. “You got your dog back, Angel. This really doesn’t have anything to do with you or your granddad anymore. It has to do with me.”
“Wait a minute.” Angel turned off the television. “God knows I’d love to see you knock out Tony Katt. God knows I’d love to see you break his nose all over again. But to risk your life for him? That’s crazy, Jack.”
“Yeah. I guess it is.” Jack looked at her long and hard. “Almost as crazy as risking your life for a consumptive Chihuahua.”
“You’re really going to go through with this.”
“Yeah.” Jack sighed. “It’s hard to explain, Angel. I guess it comes down to who I am and who I want to be. I don’t want to be the guy who lost the boss’s granddaughter’s puppy. I want to be the heavyweight champion of the world. I’ve got my reasons. . and, well, they’re
“Okay, then. Let’s go.”
Jack shook his head. “I’m doing this alone.”
“No, you’re not. Like you said, you risked your life for a dog. My dog. I guess I can risk mine for your dream.”
“Forget it, Angel. You’re not coming with me.”
Her backbone turned to steel. “I guess that I should go ahead and call Grandpa Freddy, then. Maybe he’d like to know that Jack Baddalach is about to get his ass blown away.”
Angel shoved a brand new.45 into her purse. Her other gun-the one she’d used to kill the redhead-was now at the bottom of Lake Mead.
“Let’s go,” Jack said.
Angel opened the top dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of nylons. She tossed one of the stockings to Jack.
“What’s this for?” Jack asked.
“Trust me.” Angel laughed. “You’re gonna need it.”
THREE
Dry. . parched. . desiccated. . barren. .
Like the vast Sahara. Like a mummy baked in desert catacombs. Like a creature with peeling wallpaper skin hung by the Devil himself. Like something that had been dead, yet conscious, for a very long time.
Tony Katt tried to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed against a barbed-wire spike. He wanted to scream, but his parched throat wouldn’t allow more than a rattling whisper.
God, but he was thirsty. The woman had removed the bandages and cotton from his broken nose, but it didn’t do any good. He could get more air sucking on a crimped straw.
So Tony breathed through his mouth. . Every inhalation flared like wildfire in his tortured throat. . His mouth became a dry desert burrow, a trap-door spider’s hole. .
Tony could almost feel it. The spider. Crawling over his chest, along his neck, furry legs crossing the pulsing carotid artery and the SS lightning bolts tattoo, fat arachnid body squeezing between Tony’s cracked lips and over his tongue, down his throat until its fat body became stuck and he started to suffocate-
Sharp sliver cuts split Tony’s dry lips as he opened his mouth. This time, the scream had to come out, no matter how dry his throat. Hot air baked in his lungs tore his windpipe like a dull razor.
The scream was short, and not very loud.
Tony was awake again. So was his kidnapper.
She had been dozing in the shade by the tumbledown shack. She raised her chin and looked at him, eyes invisible behind dark sunglasses.
“Okay, Tiger,” she said. “Don’t get your shorts in a bunch.” Then she grabbed the canteen and walked in his direction.
Tony couldn’t move, of course. She’d tied him to a yucca tree with a length of barbed wire that speared him every time he so much as wriggled. His arms were bent at odd angles, mimicking the twisted branches. Thick,
