Body Rides (35 page)

Read Body Rides Online

Authors: Richard Laymon

‘You never know about that. If we have to check in with some prudish old hag . . .’

‘We’ll stay someplace else. Hey, I’ve spent nights in cars. We can always do that, ya know.’

‘Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’

‘There went the road to the lake,’ Sue pointed out.

Neal glimpsed it in the rearview mirror. ‘I could turn around.’

‘Don’t do that. Let’s just go on and get where we’re goin.’

Reaching the Fort was going to take longer than Neal had expected; he hadn’t known that they would be spending the last fifty miles on a narrow, curvy mountain road instead of a highway. The road cut their speed in half. It would add an hour to their arrival time – if it didn’t prevent them from arriving at all.

One wrong turn . . .

He felt a little giddy and sick every time he glanced past the side of the road.

A long, long way down.

Now and again, they drove past crosses planted in the dirt.

‘Reckon that’s where someone kicked it,’ Sue said at the sight of the first cross.

‘No wonder the Fort never hit the big time,’ Neal said. ‘All the potential customers bit the dust trying to reach it.’

‘Why
is
it way up here?’ Sue asked.

‘There used to be a mining town. After the mines played out, they tried to make a go of the place as a ghost town, but nobody came. Probably because it was too close to Virginia City. So they figured to bring in tourists by turning it into the Fort.’

‘It weren’t never a real fort?’ Sue asked.

‘Nope. It’s just somebody’s grand idea for a theme park.’

Soon, they began to come upon colorful, wooden signs that stood at the roadside, intermixed with several more white crosses.

THE FORT

Fun! Souvenirs! Rides!

Authentic Western Relics

Great Eats!

Twenty miles dead ahead

HOTEL CASINO

Slots! Video Poker! Blackjack!

And much, much more!

Top Payoffs!

THE APACHE INN!

(A short block from the Fort)

RIDE THE PONY EXPRESS!

Death-Defying High-Speed Rollercoaster

THE THRILL OF A LIFETIME!

AT THE FORT!

Ten miles up the road

FOOD, LODGING, GAMBLING!

Satellite TV in every room.

Swimming pool and sauna!

Low prices! Clean rooms!

THE APACHE INN

!!!Yum Yum Scrumptious!!!

EAT AT WILLY’S

Best vittles in Nevada!

– A tomahawk throw from Apache Inn –

AUTHENTIC WESTERN ARMY STOCKADE

Museums! Memorabilia! Food! Crafts!

Rides Galore! Daily Shootouts!

THE FORT!

Six miles

CLIMB ABOARD THE ‘STAGECOACH’

WORLD FAMOUS FERRIS WHEEL

Fun for whole family!

WHERE IS IT?

AT THE FORT!

Just round the next bend

THIRSTY?

WE GOT MARGARITAS!

!ICE COLD!

STRAWBERRY! BANANA! REGULAR!

!! DRINK ’M UP BY THE PITCHER !!

DON’T MISS OUR WORLD FAMOUS

GOLDEN MARGARITA

AT

PUNCHO VIVA!

(Just before the Fort)

‘I could go for one of those,’ Neal said.

‘Same here,’ said Sue.

‘Too bad you’re under age.’

‘Oh? Well, ya didn’t see my
other
license.’

‘You’ve got a false i.d.?’

‘I got
lotsa
stuff.’

Moments later, they rounded a bend and came upon a small settlement: a gas station and mini-mart; a drive-in restaurant, a souvenir shop, a motel called The Wigwam which appeared to have gone out of business; Willy’s Eatery; the
Puncho Viva
bar; and the Apache Inn.

‘They got a vacancy,’ Sue pointed out.

‘We’re in luck,’ Neal said.

As he drove toward the three-story brick casino, he said, ‘Looks like it’s left over from the old mining town.’

‘Hope it don’t fall over on us.’

‘It’s been standing
this
long.’

‘Reckon they ain’t got earthquakes in Nevada.’

‘They’re few and far between.’

‘Where’d everybody
come
from?’ she said.

Neal shook his head. Until rounding the bend, they’d only seen two or three cars for the past fifty miles. Here, however, there was actual traffic on the street. Cars, pickup trucks, vans and R.V.’s were parked in every available space. Along with all sorts of four-
wheel-drive trucks: Cherokees, Broncos, Range Rovers, Land Cruisers . . .

‘There’s one of them four-wheel-drive Jeep Cherokees, right there!’ Sue pointed at a red one.

‘Wouldn’t you rather get a Range Rover?’

‘Cost too much,’ Sue said.

‘That’s ’cause they’re better,’ Neal told her.

‘I’ll get me a Range Rover if
you’ll
throw in another ten grand outa
yer
end of the reward loot.’

‘Ah. Well. Hmm.’ Neal doubted that either of them would ever see any reward money, but he didn’t want to dash Sue’s hopes so he kept the opinion to himself.

A short distance beyond the Apache Inn, both sides of the road appeared to be parking lots for the Fort. They were far from full: more vehicles, it seemed to Neal, were parked along the main road through town.

The Fort looked wonderful, though.

Its huge stockade fence had guard towers at both the front corners. Its main gate was flanked by a couple of Howitzers. Neal glimpsed the tops of several rides in the distance. Then he turned and drove into the Apache Inn’s parking lot.

‘I think we’ll go ahead and check in first,’ he said.

‘I’m gonna be yer wife?’

‘I guess so.’ He stopped the car, shut off its engine and removed the key. ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘why don’t you just wait here while I register?’

‘You say so.’ She reached out and rapped on his arm. ‘Let me use the bracelet.’

‘What for?’

‘Why not? C’mon. I ain’t gonna lose it. Anyhow, it’ll help take my mind off all the pain.’ She tilted back her head to show him the bandage on her chin.

‘Yeah, okay.’ Neal handed the bracelet to her. ‘Just stay out of me. And don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

‘Take yer time.’

Twenty-Eight
 

Checking into the Apache Inn, Neal found that he needn’t have worried about whether to identify Sue as his wife. The desk clerk asked how many were in his party, then gave him a choice of rooms: he could have either a queen-sized bed, or a queen and a double. He chose a room with two beds.

The registration form requested no information about traveling companions. After filling it out, he slid it across the counter and handed a credit card to the clerk.

As he signed the credit card slip, he wondered if he should’ve gotten a separate room for Sue.

I’ll have a lot of explaining to do, he thought, if Marta ever finds out.

I did get the room with two beds
.

He imagined Marta smirking and shaking her head and saying, ‘Oh, well, in
that
case. Whew! I’m so relieved.’

Then he was trying to defend himself. ‘We didn’t
do
anything, Marta.’

‘How many room keys would you like, Mr Darden?’ the clerk asked, interrupting his daydream.

‘Two, I guess.’

She passed the keys to him, told him the room’s location, then asked if he would need help with his luggage. Neal shook his head. ‘Thanks, but we’ll be able to handle it.’ He frowned. ‘I
would
like to make a call before I go up to the room. Is there a public phone?’

She pointed. ‘Just past the end of the bar, near the restrooms.’

‘Thanks.’

Heading in the direction she’d pointed, he entered the hotel’s casino area. This was very different from the big casinos he’d seen in such places as Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe, Reno and Laughlin. This looked more like a saloon from an old cowboy movie: dimly lit, smoky, with a low wooden ceiling and chandeliers.

It sounded like every casino he’d ever been in, though: a quiet chaos of jingling and clattering coins, slot machines getting cranked, voices, bells going off because someone was hitting a jackpot.

It smelled of cigarettes, perfume and booze.

The bar stretched along the wall to the right. With only a few
customers sitting at its stools, Neal could see several painted panels along the front: a rugged, snow-capped mountain peak; a brook curling its way through shadowy woods; surf smashing itself to froth on the rocks of a desolate seashore.

The bar was a work of art. Neal wondered if, like so many other relics of the old west that had found their way into boomtown bars, it might have been created in Europe and shipped round the Horn to San Francisco.

A panel near the end showed a pudgy, pink-nippled nude admiring herself in a looking-glass.

As Neal walked by it, he glanced at her groin.

Not much to see there. Just a hint of pale hair.

But it triggered a memory of Karen: seeing her from behind, down on her knees after he’d punched her. The hair. The fleshy, glistening slit.

Too bad Sue had her ‘drawers’ on when she fell under the table. Would’ve had a great view
. . .

What if she’s in my head!

He suddenly felt hot and sick with embarrassment.

Shouldn’t have let her have the bracelet. Stupid!

For some reason, at the time she’d asked for it, Neal had assumed she wouldn’t use it on him.

She probably isn’t, he told himself.

No way to be sure
.

When he found the bank of pay phones, he considered hurrying out to the car and taking the bracelet from her.

But then what?

The hell with it
.


If you’re in me, Sue, get out. I don’t want you listening in on my call to Marta. I’ll consider it a major invasion of my privacy, and I’ll never let you use the bracelet again. Got it?


And don’t think I won’t know
,’ he added.

Yeah, right. She’s too smart to fall for that one
.

Shaking his head, he took out his wallet. He found his telephone calling card, stepped up to one of the phones, and read the instructions for making a long-distance call. Then he dialed.

He knew Marta’s number by heart.

When he heard ringing, he grimaced and glanced at his wristwatch. A quarter to four.

Her phone rang twice, three times.

Probably waking her up
.

This seemed like the best time to call, though – while Sue thought he was busy checking them into the hotel.

Unless
. . .

‘Hello?’ Marta asked. Her voice sounded huskier than usual.

‘Hey,’ Neal said. ‘It’s me. Did I wake you up?’

‘It’s all right.’ A pause. Neal heard a sound like a quiet yawn. ‘I didn’t think I’d hear from you,’ she told him.

‘Well . . . I missed you.’

‘Some fugitive you are. Can’t even be away for a day without calling in.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Wish you were here.’

‘Same here,’ Neal said.

‘I suppose you don’t want to tell me where you are.’

‘I’d better not.’

‘I mailed the letter, by the way. The cops’ll probably get it tomorrow.’

‘Anything going on?’ Neal asked.

‘Have you been listening to your radio?’

‘Not much.’

‘Elise’s husband offered a big reward.’

‘I did hear that.’

‘Fifty thousand bucks.’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s a lot of money.’

‘Gonna turn me in?’

Marta laughed softly. ‘Just might, babe.’

‘Have to find me, first.’

‘You know,
you
probably stand a better chance than anyone of actually cashing in on that reward. I mean, you were there. You’ve seen the killer. Hell, you even
shot
him. Maybe you should think about dumping the Dr Kimble routine and coming back to look for the killer.’

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