CHAPTER 13
9:20 AM, U.S. Rte. 6 near Thomas and Sons Garage
Dave gave a grunt of satisfaction as he watched the fat man hook up Janice's Omni and tow it back up Route Six, the wrecker's yellow bubble light flashing. He put the other fat man's—the one he had killed with his beloved Whispering Death—white Chrysler in gear and followed. A few miles up the road, over the top of the ridge with the overlook, the tow truck turned onto a private drive at the top of the hill. The mailbox looked like it had said Miller but Diaz was scrawled on a piece of silver duct tape. Dave drove past and looked for a place to stash the car and reconnoiter on foot. But he had to go some way and before he even spotted anywhere suitable the low fuel warning light came on with a ping.
"Shit" Dave said. He could go back up over the ridge and gas up at the very garage he had been staking out or he could continue downhill from here. He thought he remembered a Sunoco station down there. If he ran out of gas he could coast a ways and save a walk. But when he got to the bottom and crossed the swollen creek, he saw water starting to flow across the road.
It wasn't his car anyway, if it got stuck he'd just leave it. He eased into the water, going as slow as he could. He resisted the temptation to hit the gas and make big rooster tails of splashing water which would probably swamp the engine. This wasn't the movies after all, cool didn't always rule. The water turned out to not be that deep but it was getting deeper. He probably wouldn't get through on his way back.
There was indeed a gas station not too far along. Dave pulled into the pump and put ten bucks worth in the tank. He considered driving off without paying, the trusting fools, but decided he didn't need the cops looking for him while he went about his hunt. So he went in to pay the cashier. Besides, he could use some coffee.
~~~*~~~
10:12 AM Tuesday, Falls, Pennsylvania
On the way back from the airport Jim downshifted the Mazda as they wound down a long slope back towards the river after climbing over a ridge west of Falls, Pennsylvania on State Route Ninety-two. The road was slick and he was tired and a little stressed. But he was professional enough to recognize the signs in himself and to compensate by taking extra care. He had so much on his mind, not the least of which was this incredibly sexy woman in the seat beside him.
Holly reached over and turned on the stereo. "Bonded by Blood" by Exodus screamed out of the speakers. Holly frowned and popped out the tape. She sorted through Jim's collection and put in his Best of Eagles tape. "New Kid in Town" started playing. She smiled and then turned the volume down where it was barely audible.
Jim shook his head. Somehow it felt good that she took such a liberty, like they were already on that level. Which was so weird. They had known each other for two days but he had already seen her naked. More than naked.
"Why did you leave Philly?" Holly's question came out of the blue.
Jim remembered the day he and his partner had been on bike patrol in center city and they busted the two gay men in the alley behind the alley off Sansom Street. One had been on his knees sucking on the cock of the other. Jim or his partner wouldn't have bothered if they hadn't been visible from the street—the motion of the middle aged guy's head bobbing back and forth on the fat brown pecker of the younger one was what had attracted attention of passers by. So they had to intervene. The bust had gone smoothly but, for no reason he could understand, Jim had become semi-erect. Before getting back on his bike, Jim had to adjust himself. His partner saw. Word gets around.
"I just got tired of all the crap," Jim said. "Among other things Philly cops have to live in the city."
"That sucks," Holly said. "Well their loss is our gain."
"Thanks." It was surprisingly hard to think of a dignified way to make a pass at this point. How do you ask a girl you had seen fucking another guy if she would fuck you? What if she said no? That would mean not that she didn't like sex but that she didn't want to do it with him. "Uh..."
"Do you think I'd make a good porn star?" Holly asked, again out of the blue.
They were on a long straight stretch of two lane macadam parallel to the Susquehanna in the distance and the Conrail tracks closer at hand. Between the road and tracks, tipsy old telegraph poles, wire long gone, teetered on the edge a drainage ditch full of water. Three poles went by before Jim answered. "I can't imagine why not."
"I mean a really good one, one that has a following and gets paid the big bucks."
Jim glanced over at her with her knees artless propped up on the dash of the car, a good deal of her buns peeking out of her shorts. "Oh hell yes."
"Thanks," she said. "I know I look all exotic and shit but would I look good fucking—on camera? You know what I mean?"
Jim remembered Holly and Taylor going at it the morning before. The intense tableaux was enough to make his cock stir in his pants. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But from what I saw yesterday morning..."
"I knew you were there," Holly said. "Why didn't you stay and watch?"
"I was on duty," Jim said.
"Janice said you were queer that way."
Jim felt the backs of his hands tingle at the word. "Huh?"
"That you could, you know, compartmentalize like nobody's business."
"Oh."
Holly chuckled. "You thought I meant..."
"I—"
"You ain't gay Jim," Holly said. "Not the way you were looking at me yesterday."
"How could I not look? You did everything but plant a flag in it."
"Yeah I did, didn't I?" She grinned at him.
Jim sat there imagining Holly with a flag grasped between her nether lips. Jim shifted in his seat. Bucket seat, tight jeans, seat belt and erection were an uncomfortable combination. "Why?"
"Well, to see if you liked girls... and..." She actually blushed. "...because I liked it."
"So you're an exhibitionist?" Jim had met a few of those in strip bars. Most women were in it for the easy money but a surprising number enjoyed their work.
"Yeah, but I'm not narcissistic about it." She shrugged. "Well not much anyway."
"You have a right to be proud of you body."
"Thanks." She looked down at her chest. "Wish I had bigger tits."
"No you don't," Jim said. "Trust me, most guys can tell a fake when the see one... Or two."
She gave him a half smile at his lame joke.
"Besides, yours are..." Jim searched for something that wasn't cliché or predictable. He shook his head. What the hell. "I can't think of the words your breasts deserve Holly. Maybe Taylor could but I'm not suave like he is. All I know is I like your boobies just as they are. I like them a lot."
Holly beamed at him. "That is so sweet!"
The word popped into Jim's head. "Nonpareil!"
Holly's looked at him quizzically. "What?"
"From a Vance novel. I remember the word because I looked it up but I don't remember which book. One of the Demon Prince novels? It means without equal or something. It's also a kind of chocolate."
Holly's pointy chin touched her chest. She closed her eyes. There was a weird serene look on her face. "You're a nerd girl's dream, you know that? Big and tough gun toting cop with a head full of kinky sci-fi weirdness."
Jim felt his whole body loosen. Not relax, but loosen, like he was warmed up and ready for the big game. "I'm not that tough."
They road along in companionable silence for a while. The road merged with State Route 307 and, closer to the river now, they wound around a big bend and down another straight away.
"This is a nice drive when it's not raining," Jim said.
"Does it ever not rain here?"
"Usually." He smiled at her.
"Jim..." Holly's voice had an odd hesitant tone. "There's something I wanted to talk about."
"Go ahead." They were approaching the outskirts of Tunkhannock.
"I like you as you are." She was looking out her window at the water pouring off the rocky hillside seemingly within arm's reach. "All of you."
"What do you mean?" Jim felt himself tightening down again.
"If things go right, we're going to—"
