Kayla’s feet had been left free. Only her wrists were tied, not that it mattered—like me, she couldn’t reach the knots to free her wrists. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“They killed my father,” she said. Her voice was a whispery sound in the room.
I’d already guessed that. No doubt Jonnie and Milliken had been in this room not long ago. Considering the way they ended up, it was evident they’d had no better luck with the ropes than I was having.
“Where’s Jeri?” I asked. My voice was thick, slurred. It sounded unfamiliar in my ears.
“Jeri?”
“She was with me. Last night.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her. I’ve been here…I don’t know how long.”
“Did you come here, to the house? On your own, I mean?”
“Yes. I…had to know. If she was my sister—half-sister. I came to the door and told her who I was. She let me in. She made coffee and—Oh, God, Mort, I’m so sorry.”
I closed my eyes. I was hurting, and so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. I couldn’t hear anything, no voices, traffic, nothing. Not even bass rumble coming from the cars of cruising morons. The room had a muffled, soundproofed quality. That was ominous. I tried to keep my eyes open. A pegboard on the wall above the workbench held a collection of tools: screwdrivers, wrenches, a hammer, electric drill, crowbar. A sabre saw dangled by a cord from a hook—maybe the saw that opened Jonnie’s and Dave’s skulls. Lumber was stacked in a corner, a collection of two-by-fours, warped pine shelving, a few new clapboards covered in primer. A second door was to my left, not eight feet away, but it might as well have been in Norway.
“Are we still in their house?” I asked Kayla.
“Yes. The basement. They killed my father and Milliken in here.” Again her voice broke. “That girl did. The young one. They showed me a video, Mort. They forced me to watch it. It was terrible.”
Terrible. That didn’t surprise me at all.
* * *
I slid back into unconsciousness. I fought it but it came over me like a shroud, an irresistible tidal wave of fatigue, or worse. Felt like something was wrong with my head. From far away Kayla called my name, but I couldn’t climb back up to a place from which I could answer.
After a while, I had no way of knowing how long, I awoke to a kind of shock. Victoria was standing in front of me. My cheek was burning. She’d slapped me. Not hard, but enough to rouse me and start that drumbeat thudding in my head again. Winter stood to one side in white shorts and a T-shirt, holding a bucket. The shirt was cut off, exposing her belly, lean and tight with muscle. She set the bucket on the floor. An expectant smile played on her lips.
She was more or less in focus. My vision had improved to where I wasn’t seeing double. I had no idea how long I’d been out, but my arms were on fire again. I stood up, alleviating the tension and some of the pain. I would have given a thousand dollars to be able to lower my arms to my sides.
Alone with Kayla I hadn’t felt as naked as I did with Victoria and Winter in the room. I hadn’t felt much of anything other than pain and a sense of hopelessness at our situation. Now I felt vulnerable, utterly defenseless, something awaiting the knife. I couldn’t draw my legs together, couldn’t defend myself in any way whatsoever. Now all I could think about was Jonnie’s penis and testicles, stuffed into his scooped-out, brainless skull.
Had they butchered him while he was alive? The thought gave me chills.
And Kayla, topless, wearing French-cut silk panties—she had to be feeling that same terrible helplessness. She was still wearing the silver-and-turquoise necklace I’d bought her in Austin. That and her nakedness made her look somehow primitive and fresh, like a sacrificial virgin about to be hurled into a volcano.
“Who are you?” I asked Victoria. An awkward question, but somehow it felt right—a request for truth, a confession, perhaps an explanation.
“Jonnie’s daughter,” she said. Her smile was eerie, alive with quicksilver madness.
“How do you know?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “A riddle? How interesting.”
“You might be Milliken’s kid.”
Her smile got wider. “You’ve learned a few things, how fun. No, turns out it was Jonnie who got my mother pregnant.”
“How do you know?”
“I know. I went out, looked at both of them and I knew, right off. Jonathan Sjorgen was my handsome loving daddy.”
“Where’s Jeri?”
“Miss Fitness U.S.A.? She’s around someplace.”
“Is she okay?”
“Maybe not a hundred percent, but then neither are you. Are you thirsty, Mr. Angel?”
“Yes.” I would have killed for water. I would have killed both Victoria and Winter for free, paid a bundle to do it.
Victoria nodded to Winter. Winter scooped a ladle of water from the bucket and held it to my lips. It was cold, surprisingly delicious. I drank greedily.
“Little by little,” Victoria said, easing Winter’s arm away. Her eyes locked on mine, and I saw devils dancing in them. “Little by little,” she said again.
Her voice made my hair stand on end.
Over the next few minutes Winter gave me more water, sips only, amused by the situation. And, I felt, anticipating something. I didn’t want to know what.
“Enough,” Victoria said at last.
“Give her some.” I nodded toward Kayla.
Victoria thought about that, then gestured to Winter, who held the ladle to Kayla’s lips.
After a while, Winter took the bucket into the other room, then returned.
Victoria faced me. “Would you like to know what Winter stuck in your back upstairs?”
I didn’t. I didn’t want either of them to pull out anything sharp, but Winter
