Blood Games

    Abilene heard the latch of the door clack into place. Garments rustled. The toilet seat creaked quietly. A long honk of blowing gas resounded through the room. ‘Fucking chili,’ Hardin muttered.

    Abilene, terrified, didn’t even come close to laughing. She prayed that Helen felt the same way. If the girl should crack up now… but she didn’t.

    Then came a tinkling sound, another roar of chili thunder.

    ‘Damn bitch,’ Hardin said.

    The girl she’d sent ahead to her office? Abilene wondered who she was, what she’d done. Must’ve been something damn serious for Hardin to be nailing her at night. Damn serious, like maybe wearing a short skirt.

    This could ruin the whole plan, she thought.

    And felt like an idiot for worrying about the plan.

    You’re doomed, and you’re worried about the damn plan.

    Any second now, Hardin would see that she had entered a stall with no toilet paper. Then, she’d come next door to try her luck.

    Make a break for it now? While she’s still sitting down, her door latched?

    Run like hell?

    What about Helen? The move to escape would take her by surprise. She had farther to go than Abilene. And she wasn’t nearly so quick on her feet.

    Abilene might make it, but Hardin was sure to throw open her door in time to spot Helen.

    Then it was too late.

    The latch of Hardin’s door clattered. A quiet squeak announced the opening of her door.

    Footsteps.

    Oh God, oh God, no no no!

    The sound of the footsteps receded.

    Hardin was walking away!

    Abilene heard the restroom door swing open. The lights went out. A moment later, the door bumped shut.

    She stood motionless, gasping air that was rank with the aroma of used beans and onions. No sound came from Helen’s stall.

    After a while, she whispered, ‘Are you all right?’

    ‘My right foot isn’t.’

    Abilene laughed. Helen started to laugh.

    ‘Did you hear what she said?’ Abilene asked.

    ‘Gutter language.’

    ‘She didn’t wipe, either.’

    ‘She didn’t flush.’

    ‘Didn’t even wash her hands.’

    ‘What a hog!’ Helen gasped.

    ‘Thank God she’s a hog. That’s all that saved us.’

    Abilene stepped down from the toilet seat. Flashlight clamped under one arm, she fastened her shorts, opened the door and stepped out of the stall.

    A moment later, Helen came out. ‘What’m I gonna do about my foot?’

    Her right sock, sodden, drooped low around her ankle. Her tennis shoe looked soaked.

    ‘It’ll dry. Come on, let’s get back to the bookstore.’

    ‘You want to go ahead with it?’

    ‘We’ve gone this far. We’ll just have to make sure she’s out of the building by ten.’

    Abilene turned on her flashlight. She hurried for the restroom door. Helen followed, one shoe squelching.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    ‘I may’ve puked,’ Vivian said, ‘but…’

    'May’ve?' Helen interrupted.

    ‘At least I didn’t step in a toilet.’

    ‘Of Yeller Foot,’ Finley said from the hood of the car, and grinned into her drink.

    ‘Viv was bombed when she blew her supper,’ Cora pointed out. ‘What’s your excuse?’

    ‘It was dark,’ Helen said.

    ‘And we were scared out of our wits,’ Abilene said. ‘I nearly fell in, myself.’

    ‘It was the smell that made me lose it,’ Vivian said.

    ‘You shouldn’t have been sniffing my shoe,’ Helen told her.

    ‘Yeah, well…’ Vivian chuckled softly and took a sip of her drink.

    ‘That was a hell of a night,’ Cora said.

    ‘We were a wild ’n crazy bunch.’

    ‘What do you mean were, Hickok? Pass the bottle, huh?’

    Abilene picked up the bottle of margarita mixture and wandered around, filling all the glasses. Only a bit remained. She chugged it, then returned the empty bottle to the box.

    ‘Let’s knock it off after this round,’ Cora said. ‘We’ve still gotta explore the second floor. Don’t want to be falling down any stairs.’,

    ‘Have to stay sharp,’ Finley said, ‘in case we run into an ax-murderer.’

    Helen took a gulp. ‘Besides, this stuff is murdering my diet.’

    ‘Ah, live it up,’ Finley told her.

    ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘What Frank doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’

    ‘He’ll know if I come back a blimp. He wasn’t exactly overjoyed about me coming here in the first place.’

    Finley laughed. ‘What, was he afraid we’d corrupt you?’

    ‘He thinks the whole thing’s crazy. He knows you’re all crazy.’

    ‘Harris wanted to come along,’ Abilene said.

    ‘Should’ve let him,’ Finley said. ‘We could use a guy around, here.’

    ‘Sorry, I don’t share.’

    ‘Spoilsport.’

    ‘He couldn’t get away from his job, anyway.’

    ‘God,’ Cora said, ‘let’s not even think about letting guys come along. I mean, the whole idea’s to get away and get wild.’

    ‘We’d have to behave,’ Helen said, and downed the rest of her drink.

    ‘We’d have to wear clothes,’ Cora added.

    ‘Not necessarily,’ Finley said.

    ‘And they’d end up trying to run the whole show,’ Vivian said. ‘They’d be telling us what to do from the get-go. Who needs it?’

    Cora nodded, scowling. ‘That’s for damn sure. And I don’t know about Frank and Harris, but I know for sure Tony gets the hots for Viv every time he lays eyes on her.’

    ‘No accounting for taste,’ Finley said.

    ‘If he was here, he’d be tripping all over himself staring at Miss Gorgeous.’