Page 146 of Sunset Beach
“Just thought I’d drop by to check in on Drue.”
“To make sure she was dead?” Jonah asked. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”
“Aren’t we all sick bastards, deep down inside?” Ben giggled a little at his own joke.
“The thing is, I was just about to leave the tournament. In fact, I was standing outside, about to head home on the Vespa, when I saw half a dozen cop cars roll up. And I said to myself, ‘Dude, this is not good.’ So instead of going home, I thought I’d come out here and pay Drue a visit. And maybe borrow her car. I think that’s fair, don’t you? Since I’m the one that got it running again?”
Drue stared. “Are you high?”
“Just a little bit,” he said, giggling again. “I’d offer you some of mine, Drue, but we both know it doesn’t agree with you.”
“So take the car and go,” Jonah said. “You got your money from the insurance people, right? I’m sure you weren’t planning on sticking around, especially now. So just go.”
“See, the money thing is off,” Ben said, his mood turning angry. “Everythingwas all set, until Drue decided to stick her nose where it didn’t belong and fuck me over.”
He waved the revolver from Jonah to Drue, then back to Drue. “Rookie move, Drue. Leaving a gun in an unlocked house. Whose gun is it, just out of curiosity?”
“It’s my dad’s,” Drue said. “You hurt me, Ben, and he’s coming after you. And he’ll never stop until he’s caught you and locked you up.”
“No doubt,” Ben said. “But I’ll be long gone by the time he figures it out.”
He smiled at his former colleague. “Hey, my man. You don’t mind if I borrow that sweet Audi of yours, instead of that crappy car of hers? I mean, making a getaway in a white Ford Bronco, it didn’t work out so good for the last guy, did it?” Ben snapped his fingers and held out his hand, palm up.
“Fuck off,” Jonah said. “This ain’t Grand Theft Auto.”
Ben pointed the revolver at a spot directly over Drue’s head and fired. She jumped reflexively, the shot ringing in her ears.
“The next shot I fire will be in her head,” Ben said calmly. “Now give me the fucking keys.”
“Okay,” Drue said, her voice shaking. “Jonah doesn’t have the keys. I’ve got them.”
“In your pajama pants?” Ben’s voice mocked.
She reached into her bra. “No. They’re right here.” Her hand closed over the can of Mace and she took a step toward him.
“Hand ’em over,” he repeated.
Her hand trembled, but she fixed her thumb over the nozzle, extended her arm and emptied the can of Mace directly into his eyes.
He screamed and managed to get off one wild shot in the air, just before Jonah charged him, head-butting him to the floor and cold-cocking him into unconsciousness.
She stood there, stunned, gazing down at the two men sprawled across her living room floor. The next thing she knew, her front door was being broken down.
Jimmy Zee charged into the room, his weapon drawn. He looked fromher to Ben, whose bloody jaw was now arranged in a new and unnatural way, to Jonah, who’d seated himself atop the unmoving man’s chest.
“Oh, little girl,” he said, shaking his head and looking at Drue. “What have you gone and done?”
59
August 20, 1976
The storm raged on. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning sizzled on the deep blue horizon. Inside the cottage, the lights flickered and then the house went completely dark.
The rain was so loud, she felt rather than heard his footsteps on the deckboards. But she didn’t look up until he put his hand on her shoulder.
She was huddled at the edge of the deck, her arms wrapped tightly around her folded knees, looking like a drowned kitten. An empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s sat beside her.
“She’s out there,” Sherri said, looking up with swollen, red-rimmed eyes. She pointed toward the fringe of Australian pines.
