I realized that I could turn around right now and hurry silently away, find my way back to the house and not have to deal with Steve tonight—or maybe ever again. I could take a bath and go to bed. Tomorrow, clean the house. If I couldn’t get the blood off the carpet, I’d cut myself and make up a story for Serena and Charlie. They would probably believe whatever I decided to tell them. After dark, I’d tow away Elroy’s car with his body in the trunk and his head in the back seat and be done with all this.
I could do that.
But even as it went through my mind, I kept on walking deeper into the woods.
I’m not sure why.
Maybe it was something inside me that didn’t like to quit, that needed to see it through to the end, no matter what.
Something that needed to cut the last wires.
Not only did I keep walking, but I started shouting again. This time, I used his name.
“STEVE! HEY, STEVE! WHERE ARE YOU? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE! COME AND GET ME!”
Even if Steve wanted to keep clear of me, I figured he might be tempted to come looking—to stop me from shouting his name through the woods.
No telling how far my voice might be carrying.
Or who might be listening.
More than likely, we weren’t the only two people within the sound of my voice. There might be a couple of campers, or someone out for a jog or stroll, maybe some lovebirds or a dog walker or a wino, maybe even a criminal or two using the forest as a place to hide from the authorities or hunt for victims.
Or there might be only the two of us.
I didn’t know, and neither did Steve.
“WHERE ARE YOU, STEVE?” I called out. “COME AND FIND ME! DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME BEHIND! I’M NOT GONNA LET THEM NAIL ME FOR THIS. IF THE COPS GET ME, I’LL TELL EVERYTHING! I’M NOT GONNA TAKE THE FALL FOR YOU, STEVE! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO MURDERED HIM, NOT ME! I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. YOU DID IT ALL, AND I’LL TELL THE COPS THAT.”
I knocked off the yelling for a while, and just walked along and listened. I heard nothing except the usual sounds you hear on a hot summer night in a forest, such as birds and bugs and frogs and the breeze creeping through the trees and bushes.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, STEVE, YOU’D BETTER NOT LEAVE ME HERE! I’LL SPILL MY GUTS! I’LL TELL THEM ALL ABOUT HOW YOU CUT OFF ELROY’S HEAD! I’LL TELL THEM ABOUT YOU AND MILO, TOO! THE FBI WILL
I had a sudden inspiration.
Just in case a stranger
“I’LL TELL ABOUT HOW YOU CHOPPED UP TONY ROMANO, TOO! AND HOW YOU SNATCHED AND RAPED JUDY! AND MURDERED HER! I’LL TELL THEM EVERYTHING I KNOW IF YOU DON’T GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
I wondered if I should throw in Murphy for good measure.
No. Why drag poor Murphy into this? He was my own business, my own private loss.
Anyway, I was tired of yelling. I was out of breath and my throat hurt.
And I’d already shouted more than enough to draw Steve’s attention—and wrath.
If he’d heard me, he would probably be on his way.
In a rage.
56
I FALL FOR STEVE
A few minutes later, as I went rushing down a dip in the trail, something tripped me. It caught me across the front of my right ankle, then my left. It felt like a taut rope or cord.
With both feet snagged, I plunged headlong.
I flung out my hands, hoping to break the fall. They probably helped a little. But the ground bashed them out of the way and I slammed down hard. By the time my body struck the trail, my feet were free from whatever had snagged them. I skidded down the sloping earth.
The moment I came to a stop, someone rushed out of the darkness beside the trail. A bare foot stomped down on my right wrist, pinning the saber to the ground. I figured it must be Steve’s foot. Before I could do anything, he dropped a knee down, punching me between the shoulder blades. Then he clobbered me in the head. I felt an explosion of pain, glimpsed a bright flash, and then I was out.
But not for long.
At least, I don’t think so.
While I was knocked out, Steve dismantled his boobytrap, brought it down to where I was sprawled on the trail, rolled me onto my back, removed my bra, and bound my hands together in front of me with the same length of electrical cord I’d used on him.
I woke up to find him standing in front of me. He held the saber in his right hand, an end of the cord in his left. Tugging the cord, he tried to pull me into a sitting position.
“Okay, okay,” I said.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty wakes up.”
It sounded like something poor Murphy might’ve said. For a moment, I thought I was back in his bed…but then I remembered he’d fallen into the bathtub…with me on him. Fallen and broken his head open.
This wasn’t Murphy, this was Steve.
I suddenly felt lost and sick.
“Go to hell,” I muttered.
“You don’t sound very perky,” Steve said. “Hope I didn’t break you.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
Steve hauled away at the cord. It tightened around my wrists and stretched my arms. Leaning forward, I struggled to stand up. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t successful, either. When I got to my knees, he jerked the cord and I flew forward and landed hard.
“You must try to be less clumsy,” he said.
I wanted to make another crack, but I couldn’t because I’d started to cry and didn’t want him to find out.
He gave the cord a couple of tugs. “Up we go,” he said.
I shoved at the ground with my elbows and knees. I thought he’d probably try to pull me down again, but this time he let me stand up.
“Very good,” he said. “Now, let’s see. How’ll we do this? I don’t want to have you behind me, so…You take the lead.” He stepped to the left side of the trail and pointed the way with the saber. “Ladies first,” he said.
As I walked by, he swatted me across the ass with the blade. I flinched and gasped. Then he came in behind me, holding the cord low. It dangled from my wrists and hung against the side of my left leg.
“We’ll just stick to the trail for a while,” he said. “I’ll tell you where to go.”
Pretty soon, he asked, “You weren’t satisfied with getting out alive?”
“I…want to go away with you.”
“So I heard. So
