After Midnight

“Maybe it has to do with his accident.”

“Could be.”

“At any rate, he hasn’t gotten home yet. I’m sure he would’ve picked up.”

“You can bet on that. He’s been dying to get a call from you. But you never know, maybe he’s taking a shower or something. We probably ought to wait a few minutes and try him again.”

Judy shook her head. “No. I don’t want to wait any longer. I need to go out and find him.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, and turned away.

“Sure I do,” I said. From my seat on the sofa, I watched her stride into a nearby room and switch on a light. At the other end of the room was a rumpled bed.

Judy stepped out of sight.

Raising my voice, I said, “I can’t have you going out there all by yourself. Something might happen to you.”

“I’ll be all right,” she called.

“Maybe. But what if you’re not? I’m the one who left Tony stranded. I’d feel awful.”

“You hardly even know me.”

“I’d feel awful, anyway. You’re a nice person.”

A quiet laugh came from the bedroom. Then Judy said, “Well, I’m not sure how nice I am, but thanks.”

“You are nice. And trusting. I mean, I’m a complete stranger, but you let me in here in the middle of the night. You even gave me a beer.”

“Well, we’ve got a mutual friend, I guess. Or enemy.”

“I want to help you look for him. Really.”

“Fine with me. I might be a nice person with a lot of sterling qualities, but I am a chicken. It’ll be great to have you along.”

“You and me, Judy.”

She came out of the bedroom. Her pajamas were gone, and she was no longer barefoot. She wore white socks and blue sneakers, a pale blue skirt, and a short-sleeved white blouse that looked crisp and cool. Most of the blouse’s buttons weren’t fastened yet. It wasn’t tucked in, either, and hung down like a miniskirt. Only a few inches of her real skirt showed in front of her thighs.

“You’re wearing a skirt?” I asked.

“It’s a hot night.”

“Tony’ll like that.”

“I guess so,” she said.

“And no bra.”

She laughed. “Hot night. Besides, look who’s talking.”

“I have an excuse. Tony wrecked mine.”

“I don’t need an excuse. You’re not my mother.” Grinning, she looked down and worked on fastening the rest of her buttons. “It’s not like I’m trying to do Tony any favors,” she said. “I just want to be comfortable.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “Hell, you look great.”

“Thanks. I feel great. This is kind of fun, in a way. It’s like going out for an adventure.”

I found myself grinning. “Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

Finished with her buttons, she hurried into the kitchen. She came back with her purse and slipped its strap onto her shoulder. “All set,” she said. “You ready to go? Do you want to hit the bathroom first?”

“Ah. Maybe so. Good idea.”

She pointed the way.

I went in, turned on the light and shut the door. The bathroom was small, but very clean. A wonderful, flowery aroma filled the air. It seemed to come from a bar of soap on the sink.

Not wasting any time, I took the .22 out of my back pocket, pulled my cut-offs down and sat on the toilet.

While I peed, I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

A complete disaster, that’s what.

I’d actually brought Tony’s car—and corpse—to Judy’s building, not his.

Even if I could somehow learn the location of his new apartment—which seemed impossible—the plan was blown anyway because I’d come face to face with Judy.

Killing her wouldn’t fix everything, but it had to be done.

The worst part of it was, I liked her.

Too bad I hadn’t shot her right away. It would’ve been easier. Now that I knew her, it was going to be tough.

I kept staring at the pistol in my hand.

Maybe I should just do it. Go out there and shoot her right now.

With my thumb, I switched off the safety. It had been hiding a small red dot.

Wait till she turns around. Get up real close behind her, then put a couple in the back of her head.

Don’t let her know what’s coming. That way, she won’t be scared.

And won’t scream, either.

Maybe she’ll scream because it hurts.

I imagined it all happening, and it made me feel sick.

Let it wait, I told myself. There’s no big hurry. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Wait till we’re someplace where nobody will be likely to hear the gunshots.

Right away, I felt better.

I still had to kill her, but not until later.

I thumbed the safety back on, then reached over and set the pistol on the edge of the sink.

When I was done at the toilet, I pulled up my cut-offs and fastened the belt tight enough to keep them from falling down. Instead of putting the pistol into my back pocket, I slipped it into the right front pocket. That way, it would be easier to take out.

Then I washed my hands.

There was a mirror above the sink.

I hardly recognized myself. My hair looked strange—damp, ropey and coiled. My face was shiny with oils and sweat. The afternoon in the sun had turned it a dark, coppery color. My eyes looked all wrong—the whites too white, the gaze too intense.

I looked a little mad, a little wild.

Like someone well suited for bloody work.

I washed my hands with hot water, using the nice soap. When I finished, my hands smelled like spring flowers. I rinsed my face with cold water. I cupped some water to my mouth, and had a few swallows.

After drying, I used the towel to wipe the faucet and toilet handles and the light switch. I put the towel back on its bar, then shut off the light with the edge of my hand. Standing in the dark, I slipped my hand under the front of my shirt and grabbed the doorknob to let myself out.

“Ready?” Judy asked.

“All set,” I told her.

Our beer mugs were gone.

Along with my fingerprints!

Smiling, I said, “You cleaned up already?”

“Yeah. I hate coming back to a mess. Did you want your mug?”

“I just thought I might have a drink of water.”

“It’s already washed, but I’ll get you a clean one.”

Already washed!

“Never mind,” I said, pleasantly relieved. “We’d better go.”

“Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble.”