Dean Koontz - Tick Tock

Scootie thumped one paw repeatedly against the dash-board, as though expressing his impatience to get mov-ing.

Tommy said, ‘So you blew up your own boat.’ Turning left on Marine Avenue, which was the com-mercial centre of the island, Del said, ‘Didn’t blow it up. You have a tendency to exaggeration, Tommy. I hope your detective novels aren’t full of hyperbole.’

‘Okay, you set it on fire.’

‘Big difference, I think. Blow up, set on fire - there’s a big difference.’

‘At this rate, even your inheritance won’t last long.’

‘Oh, you’re such a goof, Tommy. I don’t set yachts on fire every day, you know.’

‘I wonder.’

‘Besides, I’ll never have money worries.’

‘You’re a counterfeiter too?’

‘No, silly. Daddy taught me to play poker, and I’m even better than he was.’

‘Do you cheat?’

‘Never! Cards are sacred.’

‘I’m glad to hear you think something’s sacred.’

‘I think a lot of things are sacred,’ she said.

‘Like the truth?’

With a coy look, she said, ‘Sometimes.’

They were reaching the end of Marine Avenue. The bridge across the back channel to the mainland lay less than a block ahead.

He said, ‘Truth - how did you start this car?’

‘Didn’t I say? The keys were in the ignition.’

‘That’s one of the things you said. How did you start the fire on the boat?’

‘Wasn’t me. Was Mrs. O’Leary’s cow, kicked over a lantern.’

Scootie made a weird chuffing, wheezing sound. Tommy could have sworn it was doggy laughter.

Another police cruiser appeared on the arched bridge ahead of them, entering the island from the main-land.

‘Truth - where did the birds come from?’ Tommy asked.

‘Well, it’s the eternal mystery, isn’t it: which came first, the chicken or the egg?’

The oncoming patrol car stopped at the foot of the bridge and flashed its headlights at them.

‘Thinks we might be bad guys,’ Del said.

‘Oh, no.’

‘Relax.’

Del stopped beside the cruiser.

Tommy said, ‘Don’t turn him into a cat or a crow or something.’

‘I was thinking - a goose.’

The electric window purred down.

The cop had already lowered his window. He sounded surprised when he said, ‘Del?’

‘Hi, Marty!’

‘I didn’t realize it was you,’ the cop said, smiling at her from behind the wheel of his cruiser. ‘New car?’

‘You like it?’

‘A real beauty. Yours or your mom’s?’

‘You know Mom.’

‘Don’t you go breaking any speed limits.’

‘If I do, will you personally paddle me?’ Marty, the cop, laughed. ‘I’d be delighted.’ ‘What’s all the hubbub?’ Del asked innocently. ‘You won’t believe this. Some fool rammed a big damn boat high speed into the sea wall.’

‘Must’ve been having a great party onboard. Why do I never get invited to the great parties?’

Apparently uninterested in Tommy, Marty said, ‘Hi, Scootie.’

Craning his burly head to look past Del, out the side window, the Labrador grinned, tongue lolling.

To Del, Marty said, ‘Tell your mom we’ll be watching for her in that car.’

‘You might not see her,’ Del said, ‘but you’ll sure hear the sonic boom.’

Laughing, Marty drove away, and Del continued onto the bridge, over the back channel, to the main-land.

Tommy said, ‘What happens when he discovers the yacht on the sea wall is yours?’

‘He won’t know. It’s not in my name. It’s registered to our off-shore corporation.’

‘Off-shore corporation? How far off? Mars?’

‘Grand Cayman, in the Caribbean.’

‘What happens when this car is reported stolen?’ ‘It won’t be. Mom’ll have it brought back before it’s missed.’

‘Scootie smells.’

‘It’s only his wet coat.’

‘It better be,’ Tommy said. ‘Truth - was it just chance that you happened to be driving by that vacant lot when I rolled the Corvette, or did you know I was going to be there?’

‘Of course, I didn’t know. Like I said, though, we’re clearly each other’s destiny.’

‘God, you’re infuriating!’ Tommy said.

‘You don’t mean that.’ ‘Yes, I do.’

‘Poor confused Tommy.’ ‘Infuriating.’

Actually, you mean to say interesting.’ ‘Infuriating.’

‘Interesting. In fact, you’re enthralled with me.’ He sighed.

‘Aren’t you?’ she teased. ‘Enthralled.’ He sighed again.

Aren’t you?’ she insisted.

‘Yes.’

‘You’re so sweet,’ she said. ‘Such a sweet man.’

‘Want me to shoot you?’ ‘Not yet. Wait till I’m dying.’ ‘That’s not going to be easy.’

DeI’s mother lived in a private guard-gated community on a hill overlooking Newport Beach. The guardhouse was finished in mottled pastel stucco with cast-stone wainscot and cast-stone coins at the corners, and it stood under several enormous, theatrically lighted phoe-nix palms.

Because no resident sticker adorned the Ferrari wind-shield, the young guard had to open the gatehouse door and lean out to ask whom Del was visiting. He was slack-faced and sleepy-eyed when he first appeared, but the moment that he saw her, his face tightened, and his eyes brightened.

‘Miss Payne!’

‘Hi, Mickey.’

‘New car?’

She said, ‘Maybe. We’re test-driving it.’

The guard came out of the gatehouse, into the rain, and stooped beside Del’s open window to be at her level. ‘Quite a machine.’

‘My mom could make it go to the moon.’

‘If she had this,’ the guard said, ‘the community would have to put in speed bumps the size of garbage dumpsters to slow her down.’

‘How’s Emmy?’

Although Mickey was not wearing a raincoat, he seemed to be oblivious of the downpour, as though Del so completely commanded his awareness that he simply didn’t have the capacity also to notice the inclement weather - or anything else, for that matter. Tommy knew exactly how the poor guy felt.

‘Emmy’s great,’ Mickey said. ‘She’s in total remis-sion.’

‘That’s wonderful, Mickey.’

‘The doctors can’t believe it.’

‘I told you not to lose hope, didn’t I?’

‘If the tests keep coming back clear as they do now, they’ll probably release her from the hospital in about three days. I just pray to God she’ll never… never have to… go back.’

‘She’ll be fine, Mickey.’

‘It’s so nice of you to go visit her the way you do.’

‘Oh, I adore her, Mickey. She’s an absolute angel. It’s no trouble at all.’

‘She thinks the world of you, Miss Payne. She sure loved that storybook you brought her.’ Looking past Del, he said, ‘Hi, Scootie.’

The Labrador chuffed.

Del said, ‘Mickey, this is my friend, Tommy Tofu.’ Mickey said, ‘Glad to meet you, Mr. Tofu.’

Peering between Del and the dog, Tommy said, ‘Like-wise. You’re getting soaked, Mickey.’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes, you are,’ Del said. ‘You better get back inside, dear. Tell Emmy I’ll see her the day after tomorrow. And after she’s been out of the hospital a while and put on a little weight, maybe she can come to my studio on the peninsula and sit for me. I’d like to paint her portrait.’

‘Oh, she’d love that, Miss Payne. Getting her portrait done - she’d feel like a princess.’

Dripping, Mickey returned to the gatehouse, and Del put up the car window.

In front of them, a massive iron gate ornamented with gilded balls rolled out of the way, admitting them to the private community.

As Del piloted the Ferrari through the open gate, Tommy said, ‘Who’s Emmy?’

‘His little girl. Eight years old, cute as a button.’