Chapter 12
From the kitchen, Richard heard the screams and the silence.
Then he got out fast. Not only was there no need to look for extra involvement, but in his present state of mind, Tad Wylie might well turn on him, too, and he didn't want to shoot Tad.
He went to his Nova and headed for home. He heard sirens before he got there. He wondered if Wylie really had finished Chapman off. He figured that there was a fairly good chance. He'd find out when he read tomorrow's paper.
Once home, he had a couple of drinks and went to bed. He slept like a man who had been drugged, and he didn't awaken until a little before noon.
The crime had been sensational enough for the Clarion Freepress to tear up its front page and insert the story; such things as this didn't happen often in Adamsville. The details, however, were sketchy. Evidently no one in Brownie's Tavern had known him by name, and Tad hadn't remembered who he was. Sooner or later, Richard thought, the police might want to hear from him.
He wondered dispassionately just how guilty he was. He'd put Tad Wylie in the position of killing his wife and another man. If Tad had gone a little crazy, Richard must have been crazy, too. He had been quite willing to have Wylie do his killing for him if Wylie had wanted to kill. Wylie had wanted to and Wylie had done it.
Murder in the heart, Richard thought. I am guilty. Perhaps even more guilty than Wylie, because I used him. I should have done the job myself.
Well, it was too late for regrets now. He would have to accept his share of the guilt-but no more-and live with it. When he thought of Laura and how she was now safe from Bull Chapman, he was sure he could do that.
He was not nervous when he went to the Dale house that afternoon. He had been through too much recently to be turned into a jumpy kid by the mere idea of an interview with Mr. Dale. There were a great many things in the world which would never frighten Richard Bristol again.
Laura met him at the front door. The mark of her father's hand was still on her cheek.
"Richard, have you seen the paper?"
He smiled. "Yes. Farewell, Bull. Where's your father, Laura?"
"Out on the side porch. Don't you think you should-well-"
"Keep out of his way for a while? No. Take me to him, Laura."
Laura led Richard through the house to the side porch. Mr. Dale was sitting in a rocker with the newspapers on a table near by. When he saw Richard, his face reddened, his spike mustache shook, and, standing up, he said, "Young man, you have no business in this house-"
"I want to talk to you."
"I have no desire to talk to you. I shall speak to your father-"
"He won't listen to you unless you listen to me."
"You get out-"
"Oh, Daddy!" Laura broke in. "I don't know what Richard wants to say, but can't you ever listen to anybody?"
"Have you seen the morning paper?" Richard asked.
The question brought Mr. Dale up short. He looked uncertain, puzzled. "If you're referring to the murders-"
"It was Carl 'Bull' Chapman who told you something or other about Laura and me, wasn't it?"
"It was, but-"
"And you're willing to take his word for anything without even questioning Laura or me."
Richard reflected that he ought to feel sneaky about all this. After all. Bull might well have told Mr. Dale the precise truth-not mentioning his own acts, of course. But he felt some small justification for lying. He was trying to get Laura off the hook with a father to whom she couldn't talk frankly, one who did his damnedest to inject his daughter with his own love-fear, and who by his efforts made Laura all the more rebellious.
But, on the other hand, the man had only been trying to protect his daughter according to his own lights, as good or poor as they might be, and that warranted respect. Furthermore, he was right on the general principle that it was damned poor policy for unmarried seventeen-year-old girls to go around sleeping with college boys or anyone else.
Richard felt rather sorry for the man and was quite willing to tell a few lies to save him-and Laura some pain. He honestly didn't believe that in this area Mr. Dale had what it took to stand up to the truth. He might have been wrong but, good or poor, those were his lights.
"I don't see that this murder business has anything to do-"
"It has a lot to do with Laura and me. Bull Chapman was the kind of character who made life hell for women. He made life hell for Laura-"
"Richard!" she called out in a little shriek and her face went white.
Mr. Dale's complexion matched Laura's. "What in God's name are you talking about?"
"This Chapman character took a fancy to Laura. He made a proposition finally. If she was, shall we say friendly-he wouldn't get her in trouble. Maybe by giving you a phone call after she'd been out with me."
"No sane man would try such a thing!"
Richard shrugged. "I never said he was sane."
Mr. Dale turned to his daughter. "Is this true, Laura?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"And you never told me?"
"I guess she was scared, sir. And you were awfully fast to believe Chapman last night."
"Will you please be quiet, Laura."
"I was scared. Not of you; of him. Daddy, that's over, and I don't want to talk about that."
Mr. Dale turned to Richard. "You might have stayed here last night and offered an explanation."
"You were in no mood to listen to one. And besides, I wanted to find Bull Chapman."
"I take it you were too late."
Richard didn't answer.
Mr. Dale sighed. He looked much older than he had a few days ago. He sat down heavily in his chair.
"So some perverse sort of person has been giving my daughter hell and no one has informed me. Perhaps hasn't dared to inform me. Yes, so it would seem. I must have failed somewhere along the line-I suppose every parent says that at one time or another. Thinking so should help, but somehow it doesn't...."
He looked up at Richard. "T have a feeling you haven't told me everything. This Chapman must have had reason to believe that Laura was vulnerable to blackmail, unless he was utterly mad, but there doesn't seem to be much point in going into that now, does there?"
The man looked completely forlorn, and Richard was glad that he hadn't had to modify the truth or lie any more than he had. He was getting off lightly. But now there was another matter he had to bring up.
"Mr. Dale, your daughter and I plan to be married as soon as she comes of age, with your blessing I hope, but we'd like your permission to marry even before that. As soon as possible, in fact...."
Speaking rapidly and firmly, Richard told Laura's father of their plans. He listened, showing no surprise whatever, nodded, and said he'd think it over. He closed his eyes and, feeling that they had been dismissed, Richard and Laura left.
They went for a ride in his station wagon. The sky was dark with storm clouds, but they couldn't enjoy the coming relief from the heat. They were both depressed and they rode out into the country in silence.
He spoke first. "We handled him all wrong, Laura."
"I know. That was all my fault."
"No more than mine. We must have been crazy."
"But if I'd had the courage to tell my father-"
"You couldn't have done that. You know you couldn't." The storm clouds thickened and rolled. "Laura, do you really want to marry a guy like me, a guy who still knows too little-"
She turned hurt, fearful eyes toward him. "What are you talking about? You said we were already married. Didn't you mean it?"
A knot inside him untied. He relaxed. He was happy again. "With all my heart. I simply don't want you to have regrets."
"Never! And I'll bet we have my father's consent within a month!"
"If you're that sure, we really ought to celebrate."
"Celebrate how?"
"How do married people celebrate?" She looked at him blankly, then grinned. "Drive fast!"
Within ten minutes, Richard had pulled the Nova off the road. They took the blanket out and headed for their new spot, finding it easily. They spread the blanket and sat down to take off their shoes and socks. Laura turned her back to Richard.
"Unzip me, husband."
"Gladly," he said, doing so. "And I hope you'll be willing to return the favor."
"With pleasure," she said.
When Richard had stripped to his briefs and Laura to her panties and bra, they lay down and gathered one another into their arms. A breeze swept through the woods, soon turning into a chill wind, and they shivered and clung together.
"Will we always find a way to love out in the open, Richard?"
"Always. Maybe even in the winter."
He unhooked her bra and while she got rid of that, he played with her breasts and kissed her rough pink tips. She slid her last garment down, then reached for him. Their mouths touched lightly and their tongues played delicately. Richard's hand played over her rich breast, then paused to push down his briefs and work them off, and she kicked down her panties.
"Don't wait too long for the first time, Richard," she said softly. "We only have the afternoon and the evening."
The wind rippled the grass and made the leaves whisper as she reached for him, turning her head to one side and closing her eyes. A few drops of rain hit them.