Free Beware by Richard Laymon Page B

stalk from his drink and licked it.
    Intentional symbolism? More than likely. Holding back a smile, Lacey removed her own stalk and tapped off its drops on the rim of her glass. She set it down beside her lounge. Scott placed his beside it.
    “ To our fortunate encounter,” he said.
    “Okay.”
    He clinked his glass against hers, and they both drank. Her Bloody Mary was hot with Tabasco. It made her eyes water, her nose start to run. She sniffed.
    “So tell me, Lacey, what is a lovely young lady doing alone at this fashionable resort hotel?”
    “What makes you think I’m alone?”
    “I have an unerring nose for such things.”
    “Unerring?” she asked, somewhat surprised that he had used the correct pronunciation—err as in purr.
    “
Seldom
erring. But it’s hit the mark this time, hasn’t it?”
    “Isn’t ‘mark’ a con man term for a sucker?”
    “Do you see yourself as a sucker?”
    “Do you see yourself as a con man?”
    He grinned—a boyish, disarming grin. Lacey wondered how much time he spent at mirrors, practicing it. “A confidence man? Of course. Here I am, trying to win your confidence.”
    “When’s the pitch?”
    “Later. I haven’t won yet, have I?”
    “Far from it.”
    “Are you always this distrustful?”
    “Only of strangers who approach me uninvited.”
    “Ah. You assume I have mischief on my mind.”
    “Do you?”
    “That would be telling.”
    If I told you that, you’d know.
The low, rough voice. She suddenly trembled as if a cloud had smothered the sun, an icy wind blown across her.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Hey, I was only joking about the mischief.”
    “I know.”
    “Are you all right?”
    “I just…what you said, it reminded me of something.”
    “Must’ve been something unpleasant.”
    “It was.”
    “Want to talk about it?”
    “No.”
    “A chance like this doesn’t come along every day, you know: a friendly, willing ear, the sunlight beating down, a Bloody Mary in your hand. Besides, I might be able to help.”
    “How could you help?”
    “How will I know unless you tell me your problem? Let me guess, though: it involves a man.”
    She took a drink, and stared at the glistening pool.
    “He did something to you.”
    The bantering tone was gone from Scott’s voice. Lacey glanced at him. He was staring at his drink, his face solemn.
    “Yes,” she said.
    “He didn’t jilt you, nothing like that. What ever he did, you’re frightened of him. He hurt you, didn’t he? Beat you up.”
    “You’re very observant,” Lacey muttered, glancing down at her bruises and scratches.
    “You came here to get away from him. You’re hiding out, probably even registered under a fake name in case he comes looking for you.”
    “I couldn’t,” she said. “I had to use a credit card to get the room.”
    “But the rest is right?”
    “Close enough.” Lacey sipped her drink and set the glass on her belly. Its cold wetness soaked through her damp swimsuit. It felt good.
    “Husband, boyfriend, or stranger?”
    “Stranger.”
    “Did you go to the police?”
    “He got away.”
    “And you’re afraid he’ll come after you?”
    “He’ll kill me, if he can.”
    “We won’t let him.”
    “We?”
    He winked. “You and me, kid.”
    “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want anyone else involved in this. Besides, I don’t think he’ll find me here.”
    “It doesn’t take a genius to find someone hiding out at a major hotel—particularly if she’s using her real name.”
    “Thanks.”
    “How long have you been here?”
    “This is the third day. I got in Thursday afternoon.”
    “Then you’ve been here much too long. You’re lucky he hasn’t already shown up.”
    “He doesn’t even know what city I’m in, Scott.”
    “You’re not from Tucson?”
    “No.”
    “But I’ll wager this is the nearest large city, and the place he’ll look first.”
    “I guess so,” she admitted.
    “If I were you, I’d get out of here today and