Flesh

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Jake entered the dispatcher’s cubicle, nodded a greeting to Martha, who looked back at him with grim eyes, and turned to the girl.

She was sitting on one of the molded plastic chairs that belonged in the waiting area outside the cubicle. It must’ve been brought in so she wouldn’t have to wait alone. She held a plastic coffee cup in both hands. The left side of her face was red and puffy. She wore Martha’s old brown cardigan over a blue nightgown. She looked up from her coffee as Jake approached.

“I’m Jake Corey,” he said. “I’m in charge of the investigation.”

She nodded.

“Would you like to step this way?”

She glanced at Martha, who nodded that it was all right. She stood up.

Jake held the door open for her. She walked stiffly, staring down at her coffee as if concerned about spilling it. Though she must’ve been about twenty years old, she had the look of a hurt and frightened little girl.

Jake pulled the door shut and stepped to her side.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Just over here.” He gestured toward Barney’s office. “We can’t talk about this in front of Martha.”

She walked beside him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He opened Barney’s door and flicked the switch. Overhead fluorescent lights came on. He followed the girl into the room. “Sit in the chief’s seat,” he told her.

“Behind the desk?”

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

She stepped around the desk, set her coffee cup on the blotter, and sat down. The stuffed chair bobbed and squeaked. She rolled it forward as if to take shelter behind the big, protective desk. Her hands curled around the sides of the cup.

Jake sat on a folding chair across from her. “You’re Alison?”

“Yes. Alison Sanders.”

“Dr. Teal told me what you did. You’re a very brave young lady.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. He’s very upset, of course.”

“The policeman, is he dead?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Jake muttered.

“You didn’t get him, did you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not yet. But we will.”

“It was Roland,” she said in a steady, low voice. “I don’t know his last name, but he lives in room 240 of Baxter Hall on the campus.”

Jake took a notepad from his shirt pocket. He quickly scribbled the name and room number. “Was he a friend of yours?”

She shook her head. “I’ve only seen him around. He’s a freshman.”

“Do you have any idea why he might have done this?”

“I don’t know.” Alison rubbed her forehead. “He was somehow involved in…His roommate took Celia out last night. That’s Celia Jamerson. She was living with…”

“Celia Jamerson?” Jake asked, surprised. He saw the slim girl sitting by the road, scuffed and bleeding, holding her tremulous arm. “A van tried to hit her Thursday?”

Alison nodded. “She went out with Roland’s roommate last night and she didn’t come home. I went over to the dorm this afternoon to ask Roland about it. That was the only time I ever really talked to him. He said they’d gone to some motel in Marlowe, but I didn’t really believe him.” She met Jake’s gaze with weary, knowing eyes. “I think Roland killed her. Maybe he killed Jason, too. That’s the roommate. Maybe Jason’s in on it, but I don’t think so.”

“What happened after you spoke with Roland?”

“I went over to a friend’s house. We had dinner. Then I walked home. The place was dark. Helen’s door was shut. I thought she’d gone to bed, but I guess she must’ve already been dead. Roland must’ve been hiding somewhere. I went up to my room and went to sleep. He woke me up. He got a handcuff on me. And he put tape on my mouth. He was naked. I thought that what he wanted to do was, you know, rape me. I mean, I’m sure that is what he wanted to do, not just kill me, or he wouldn’t have bothered with the cuffs and tape. Anyway, we fought and I…I blinded him in one eye.” Her right hand left the coffee cup. She lifted her thumb and stared at it. “I washed,” she muttered. “Martha let me wash up. She found a key that opened the cuff. And gave me her sweater. She’s very nice.”

“You said that Roland was naked.”

“He had a belt on. That’s all.”

“Did you notice anything peculiar about his appearance?”

She looked at Jake and raised her eyebrows. “You mean like a tattoo or birthmark or something?”

“Did you get a look at his back? Or feel it?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I just wonder if he had any kind of a bruise or bulge down his spine.”

“I don’t know. Not that I noticed. Why?”

“It’s a long story. I’d rather not get into it right now. After you gouged his eye, what happened?”

“I got away. I ran downstairs and went to warn Helen. But she was…” Alison caught her lower lip between her teeth. She shook her head.

“Then you went outside?” Jake asked.

“Yeah. I went down and broke into Dr. Teal’s kitchen, and he came out to help.”

“Okay, fine. He’s filled me in from there, up to the point where you ran for the patrol car.”

“That’s about all, then. Roland almost got me, but I drove away and…he was lying in the street the last time I saw him. I drove here to the police station and told Martha what happened. She sent a car and ambulance to the house and phoned someone.”

“She called the chief. He phoned me, and I went over. Could you describe this Roland?”

“He’s…eighteen, I guess. Skinny. About five-seven. Black hair. He’s minus his left eye and two fingers of his left hand, and he’s got a knife wound on his left nipple.”

“He won’t go far in that condition.”

“I guess not.”

“Did you notice if he had a car?”

“I don’t know. There was a VW bug on the street by the house. I almost hit it with the police car. It might not have been his, but—”

“A yellow bug with a banner on its aerial?” Jake asked. He felt excited. He felt sick.

“I don’t know about the banner, but I’m pretty sure the car was yellow.”

“My God,” he muttered.

“What?”

“It was him. He tried to pick up my daughter this afternoon.”

A corner of Alison’s lip curled up. “Your daughter?”

“She ran away from him.”

“Jesus. She’s all right, though?”

“Yeah, fine. It threw a scare into her, but she’s fine.”

“How old is she?”

“Four and a half. She lives with her mother.” Jake wondered why he added that. He stood up. “It’s time I go after the guy, Alison. Do you have a place to stay?”

“The house,” she said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, Professor Teal has a spare room downstairs.”

“The odds of Roland showing up are slim to none, I think, but until he’s accounted for…”

“You mean I need to disappear for a while?”

“Just to be on the safe side.”

“I don’t know. I guess I could check into a motel. I don’t have my purse, though.”

“You’re welcome to stay at my place. I’ll be out, anyway.”

“Thank you, but—”

“It’s comfortable. There’s food and drink in the fridge. And that way, I’ll know where you are and I won’t have to worry about you.”

She made a small, slightly crooked smile. “You’d worry about me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice,” she whispered.

Jake felt his face redden. “Well, you’re also our main witness.”

Alison picked up her coffee cup. It was still full.

They left Barney’s office and returned to the dispatcher’s cubicle. “Alison will be coming with me,” Jake said.

Alison set the cup on Martha’s desk. “Thanks for the use of the sweater,” she said. “And for helping.”

“No problem, honey,” Martha said.

Alison started to unbutton the sweater.

Martha held up a hand. “You keep that on, you’ll catch a chill.” Grinning, she added, “And you don’t want to give Jake any ideas. Not that he’s not a perfect gentleman. You can just send it back to me when you’re done with it.”

Alison thanked her again.

They left, and went outside to Jake’s car. Alison climbed into the passenger seat. Walking around to the driver’s door, Jake scanned the area. He saw no cars moving on the nearby streets. He saw no parked Volkswagens. He got in and started the engine.

“You didn’t notice anyone behind you on the way over, did you?” he asked.

“No. And I was looking. I was afraid he might come after me.”

“The shape you left him in, he’s probably not coming after anyone. He might very well be dead or dying by now.”

“I hope so,” she muttered.

“I’d like to find him alive,” Jake said. Find him dead, he thought, and you probably won’t find the damn snake-thing. It’s got no use for a dead man. The fucker’ll pull a disappearing act and turn up in someone else and you’ll be back to square one.

Jake watched the rearview mirror as he drove. The road behind him appeared clear, but Roland could be staying far back with the headlights off.

Jake turned onto a side street, killed his lights, and swung to the curb. “We’ll wait here for a while,” he said.

“Fine.”

He shut off the engine. He smiled at Alison. “I’m sure we’re not being followed. This is just a precaution.”

He glanced at her bare legs. Her negligee was very short. Her open hands rested on her thighs as if to hold the gown down. An awareness came to Jake, suddenly, that he was alone in the car with a very attractive young woman who was no doubt naked except for the skimpy nightgown and Martha’s sweater. And he was taking her to his home. The awareness gave him a warm feeling that threatened to become more than that.

Watch yourself, he warned. The last thing she needs is to get the idea that you’re getting turned on.

Turned on? Forget it, Corey.

He rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants, and looked at the side mirror. “Looks all right,” he said.

Though he felt sure that Roland wasn’t tailing them, he decided to take a roundabout course to his house. He knew that he should make the trip as fast as possible, drop her off, and start searching for Roland.

But he wasn’t eager to find Roland.

And he wasn’t eager to get rid of Alison.

She was very quiet. Jake wondered what was going on in her mind. Nothing pleasant, probably. She’d gone through hell tonight. Most people never have to face such an ordeal. If they do, they often don’t survive to cope with the emotional trauma.

“Things must look pretty bleak,” he said.

Alison turned to him. “I’m alive,” she said. “I feel pretty lucky.”

“It took a lot more than luck.”

“I don’t know if I deserve it, though. I mean, why me? This must be how people feel when they survive an airline crash. Kind of guilty that they’re still alive when so many others aren’t.”

“I suppose so,” Jake said. “Do you have classes tomorrow?”

“I’ll probably cut them. I don’t think I could handle sitting in a classroom.”

“That’s probably best. I hope this will all be over by then, but if it’s not I won’t want you going anywhere. You and I will be the only ones who know where you are, and I’d like to keep it that way until further notice, okay? That’s the only way we can be certain you’re secure.”

“No one to tell,” she said.

“What about your parents?”

“They’re in Marin County.”

“You could call them if you want.”

“No reason to stir them up. They’d go hysterical on me.”

“Boyfriend?” Smooth, Jake thought. Slipped it right in. He felt vaguely ashamed of himself.

“We broke up,” she said. “Tonight, as a matter of fact. It’s been a banner night.” After a few moments of silence, she added, “I should probably phone him in the morning, let him know I’m okay.”

“Fine. Just don’t tell him where you are.”

“Fat chance of that.”

Jake saw his house just ahead. He decided to circle the block before taking Alison in. Just as a precaution, he told himself.

“You don’t think someone sent Roland over?”

“No, nothing like that. He could get to someone, though. If nobody knows where you are, nobody can tell him.”

“There’s more to this than you’re letting on, isn’t there?”

Jake hesitated, then answered, “Yes.”

“And it has something to do with Roland’s back.”

“You’re sharp,” Jake said, smiling at her.

“Must be pretty bad, if you’re afraid to tell me.”

“It’s a long story,” Jake said. “And we’re almost home.”

“Maybe it’s something I should know.”

Jake didn’t answer. He steered around the final corner, checked once more to be sure there was no Volkswagen in sight, then swung into the driveway of his house.

Alison held the hem of her negligee to prevent it from sliding up as she scooted off the car seat. Jake shut the door after she was out. He walked backward across his yard, a hand resting on his holstered gun, his head turning slowly, eyes scanning the neighborhood as if he expected Roland to charge out of the darkness.

He didn’t seem nervous, though. Just careful. Alison felt safe with him. She didn’t like knowing that he would leave just minutes from now.

He opened the house door. Alison followed him inside. The lights were already on, the curtains shut. The warmth of the house felt good after the chill outside.

“Just make yourself at home,” Jake said. “The kitchen’s over here.”

He led the way. Alison began to unbutton her sweater, but stopped when she realized what she was wearing under it.

Jake turned on the kitchen light. “There’s food, soft drinks, beer in the refrigerator. Help yourself.” He pointed at a cupboard. “Hard stuff in there, in case you get the urge.”

“What’s your daughter’s usual bedtime?”

“Oh, Kimmy’s not…” He laughed softly. “What’s your hourly rate?”

“In my prime, five bucks per hour. For Kimmy, no charge.”

“That’s good, since she isn’t here.” They left the kitchen. “Sofa,” he announced, walking in front of it. “Where I’ll stretch out when I get back. Television.” He bent over the coffee table, picked up the remote control, and turned the TV on and off, demonstrating. He smiled a bit self-consciously.

Alison followed him to the bathroom. He flicked on its light. “Fine if you want to take a bath or shower or something,” he said and blushed slightly.

“I could use one.”

“There’re towels and stuff in the closet here.”

He nodded as they passed a dark doorway. “Kimmy’s room. Her bed’s a little small for you.” He opened the door of a linen closet and pulled folded sheets and a pillowcase down from the shelves. Then he stepped into his room. He turned the light on. The bed was unmade. Alison guessed that he had been sleeping when the call came tonight.

He walked over to the bed. “Want to give me a hand with the sheets?” he asked.

“I’ll take care of that,” Alison told him.

“Well…”

“No problem,” she said. “It’ll give me something to do after you’re gone.” It was a small lie. She had no intention of taking his bed, forcing him to sleep on the sofa when he returned from hunting down Roland.

Jake set the sheets and pillowcase on the end of the bed. He entered his closet. When he came out, he was holding a shotgun. “Have you ever fired one of these?” he asked.

Alison nodded. “I’ve gone duck hunting with Dad a few times. Hell, more than a few times.”

He handed the shotgun to her.

It was a bolt-action .12 gauge. She opened the bolt enough to see a shell in the chamber, then closed it.

“There’re three more in the clip,” Jake said.

“Okay.”

“Keep it close to you. Just don’t shoot me when I come back.”

Alison smiled.

The color suddenly drained from his face.

“What is it?”

“Maybe that wasn’t such great advice.” He sat on the end of the bed and frowned up at her. “I want you to brace the bedroom door shut before you turn in. If I try to force my way in, use the shotgun.”

“Are you crazy?”

“I don’t expect anything like that to happen, but…When you come out in the morning, keep me covered if I’m here and have me take my shirt off. Then take a good look at my back. If there’s a bulge going up my spine as if I’ve got a snake under my skin, blow me away. Try to hit the bulge. If you don’t nail the thing, it’ll probably come out as soon as I’m dead and it might come after you.”

She stared at Jake.

He meant it.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered.

“Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” Jake said. “But it’s for real. This snake-thing was up the back of the guy who tried to run down Celia. It got into Ronald Smeltzer over at the Oakwood Thursday night just before he blew off his wife’s head. And now I’m pretty sure it’s in Roland. It’s some kind of parasite that takes control and turns people into killers. It’s conceivable that it might get into me when I catch up with Roland. I certainly don’t intend for that to happen, but…do us both a favor and blast me if I come in with the thing. And try to kill it, too. Or at least make sure it doesn’t get close to you.”

Alison was numb.

Jake stood up. “You okay?”

She stared at him.

He stepped close to her. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I had to tell you.”

The weight of the shotgun pulled her arms down.

He lifted it away from her, took her gently by one elbow, and led her down the hall to the living room. He guided her to the sofa. She sank onto it. He propped the shotgun beside her, went away, and came back.

“Maybe this will help,” he said. He placed a mug of beer with a white frothy head into her hand. He ripped open a bag of potato chips and set it on the cushion so it rested against the side of her thigh. She smelled the pleasant aromas of the beer and chips. From the odor, she knew that the chips were sour cream and onion flavor.

One of Helen’s favorites.

She looked up at Jake.

He managed a thin smile, but his eyes were sad. “Everything will be okay,” he said. Then he crouched in front of her. “Alison.”

“Huh?”

“You’re acting zoned.”

“I’ll be all right,” she heard herself say. “In a while.”

“What I just told you, it’s a secret. Right? At least until Tuesday. Then we’ll be going public with it.”

“Nobody will believe it.”

“You do.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Jake put a hand on her knee. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

She pressed a hand on top of his. “Watch out,” she said. “Come back safe.”