“Skip wouldn’t do that … “
“No? He blew up Ricky Bloodworth tonight.”
“Mmmm … all the way?”
“He’s still breathing, if that’s what you mean.”
Jenna was tiring, but not much.
‘Thirty-nine … forty … Skip promised he wouldn’t hurt the girl … ease up a little on the left leg … hey, you still miss me?” She caught his eye, beamed. Full of confidence, like she could jerk the leash anytime she wanted.
“Do you want Skip to die?” Keyes said tonelessly. He’d had about all he could take. “Forty-six, forty-seven … ‘course not … do you?”
“No.” But don’t ask me why not, Keyes thought, because the bastard richly deserves it.
“Brian … don’t let anything happen to him.”
That was it. On the count of forty-nine he stopped her, slipped a hand behind her head and held her there, in a sitting position. Probably with more firmness than was necessary.
“Just one more!” Jenna protested.
“Know what he said, Jenna? He said there’d be a bloodbath if I told the cops about him. Said lots of people would die.”
“Baloney.” She strained against his grip. “He’s just bluffing.”
Keyes said, “Look here at my clothes—what do you suppose that is?”
“A-l Sauce?”
“It’s blood, you bubblehead! Human blood. I knelt in a big warm puddle of it tonight over at police headquarters. You should have been there, the place looked like Beirut.”
“Let me go,” Jenna said.
“So what do you make of all these darned murders?” he said. “Pretty hilarious, huh?”
“Brian, just stop it.”
“No, goddammit, look at me!” But she wouldn’t.
“Look at these bloodstains and tell me Wiley’s a big hero,” he said angrily. “Tell me how proud you are, go ahead, Jenna. The man’s a genius, all right. Takes a real visionary to bomb a moron in a toilet.”
She squirmed loose and shot to her feet. Her face was pink and she was breathing hard.
Keyes said, “Jenna, you can end all this—it’s not too late. Do everyone a favor and turn him in.”
She shook her head once and spun away, out the door.
“I’m going for pizza,” Kara Lynn announced.
“Not alone you’re not,” Keyes said.
“It’ll make you chubby,” Reed Shivers added. “The only Orange Bowl queen with a mozzarella tummy.”
“That’s enough, Daddy. I’m hungry.”
“Then we’ll get it delivered,” Keyes said. He picked up the telephone in the game room and stared at it. The phone was made out of an actual bottle of Seagram’s; Reed Shivers had ordered it specially from a golf catalog.
“What do you like on your pizza?” Keyes asked.
Kara Lynn shrugged. “Mushrooms, anchovies.”
“No pizza!” her father said. “Pumpkin, we’ve got publicity stills tomorrow, remember?”
“Screw it,” said Kara Lynn.
“That’s the spirit,” Keyes cheered.
“But it’s swimsuit,” Shivers pleaded.
“And I’ll look sensational, Daddy. Tiny tits and all.”
Keyes changed his mind about having the pizza delivered. Kara Lynn obviously needed to get out of the house.
“You ever been to Tony’s?” he said. “Great pizza.”
“Let’s go.”
“At least go easy on the cheese,” Reed Shivers said, pouting into his pipestem.
They took the MG. It was a chilly night, full of stars. The brisk air whistled through a rusty hole in the floorboard, and the car got cold quickly.
“The heater’s busted,” Keyes said. “I got an extra sweater in the back.”
“I’m okay.” Kara Lynn cupped her hands and blew into them softly. Keyes could see the gooseflesh on her bare arms.
“How far to Tony’s?” she asked.
“I’ve got no idea,” Keyes said. “I made it up.”
“Oh.”
“To get us away from Professor Higgins.”
“Daddy’s not a bad guy,” Kara Lynn said, “but he can be such a pain in the ass.”
Keyes drove north down LeJeune Road. Just for the hell of it, he squared the block at Miracle Mile to make sure they weren’t being followed again.
“Is the Pizza Hut okay?”
“Sure,” Kara Lynn said.
They got a booth in the corner, away from the jukebox and video games. Keyes ordered a pizza with mushrooms, pepperoni, and anchovies. Kara Lynn looked like she was freezing in her dance tights, so Keyes went out to the car and got his spare sweater, a gray cotton pullover.