James Chase - You've Got It Coming

“That's funny,” he said. His voice sounded far away. “I could have sworn . . .”

“Shall we go on?”

“Yes.”

He waited for her to turn. He held the wrench so tightly his fingers ached. As he turned, he saw a car coming fast, and he just stopped the upward swing of his arm in time.

The car, a low-slung coupe, was coming like a bolt out of the blue. Glorie had reached the car door. She opened it. Harry watched her. He was shaking, but he had enough presence of mind to keep the wrench out of sight. The sports car flashed by and went snarling down the road, leaving behind it a cloud of dust.

Harry shoved the wrench into his hip pocket, moved forward and caught hold of Glorie's arm, stopping her as she was about to get into the car.

“Just a second...”

A big oil truck struggled up the slope and into sight and came pounding towards them. Harry thought he must be nuts to have hoped to get rid of her on this road. It seemed alive with traffic.

“Don't let's get in just yet,” he said. “I want to have a look at the forest. Come on. Let's stretch our legs.”

If he could get her into the forest and out of sight of the passing traffic...

“Oh no,” she said, pulling away from him. “I wouldn't go in there. It's full of snakes.”

The oil truck came abreast of them and slowed. The driver leaned out of the cab window.

“I'm looking for the Denbridge Service Station,” he shouted above the roar of his engine. “Is it on this road?”

Glorie got into the car and shut the door.

“Yes,” Harry said, silently cursing the truck driver. “About three miles further on.”

The driver waved and accelerated. The truck went on with a grinding of gears.

For a long moment Harry stood motionless, then he walked slowly around the car. It would have to be the coast road, he told himself. He was crazy to have stopped here.

“I forgot the snakes,” he muttered as he got into the car. “I wouldn't want to tread on a snake myself.”

“The wood must be full of them,” Glorie said. “You've only got to look at the road...”

“That's right.”

He accelerated and sent the car forward fast. They had over a hundred miles ahead of them before they reached Naples.

The canal side of the road was alive with wild birds and the surface of the milky coloured water was constantly being broken as fish reared up to snap at the swarm of insects buzzing above the water.

As Harry drove the Buick mile after mile, the scene gradually changed: the cypress forest gave way to low oak and willow hammocks with the occasional maple tree forcing its way through the dense undergrowth. Every now and then he caught a glimpse of an isolated Seminole village, half hidden from view behind high palisaded walls.

From the barman's map, Harry knew that some way ahead the road forked to Collier City. From the look of the map he had judged there would be lonely stretches along that road, and it was there where he had planned to get rid of Glorie.

Glorie seemed too absorbed by the scenery, the flocks of wild birds that rose out of the forest, startled by the noise of the speeding car, and the turtles that basked along the side of the canal, to talk, and Harry was glad of her preoccupation.

When they reached Royal Palm Hammock, with its white palms growing wild and thrusting their trunks above the cabbage palms, Harry slowed his speed. Somewhere ahead, within a few miles, was the junction to Highway 27A where he was to turn off for Collier City.

After ten minutes of slow driving, he saw ahead of him the fork in the road. He swung the car on to it, leaving the main road on his right, and entered the flat area of wasteland that was covered with palmettos and pines.

After driving a mile or so, Glorie said suddenly, “Is this right?

Shouldn't you have kept to the main highway?”

“It doesn't matter,” Harry said curtly. “This is more interesting, and we can pick up the highway later on. Look what we're coming to. There must have been a clam-canning plant here at one time.”

On either side of the road now appeared great mounds of gleaming clamshells, bleached white by the sun that formed a solid wall, shutting out the view. The mounds continued for nearly half a mile, then the road suddenly opened out on to a dazzling white sand beach with palm trees, palmettos, sea lavender and coco-plum trees to provide a mile deep belt of shade.

The strip of beach was lonely and desolate. Harry slowed the car. “Pretty good, isn't it?” he said huskily. “Let's stop here and have a swim.”

“My costume's right at the bottom of the suitcase,” Glorie said.

“Why worry about a costume? Who's here to see you except me.”

He swung the car into the shade of a palmetto tree and pulled up.

“Come on; let’s swim.”

She got out of the car and walked away towards the sea, leaving a trail of footprints behind her.

For a long moment Harry sat watching her, his heart pounding.

He had a strange feeling that they were suddenly the only two people left on earth. The long sweep of the beach, the dense forest at their backs, the blue sky, the hot sun and the silence told him this was the place. There could never be any place more lonely than this.

His hand reached behind him and his fingers closed over the handle of the wrench. He opened the car door. This was it, he told himself. She was standing with her back to him, looking towards the sea. The breeze moulded her dress around her so he could see the roundness of her hips and her long legs.

The beach stretched away for miles and was completely empty of life. The hot sun had turned the sea into a bronze, shimmering mirror.

He left the car, feeling the hot sand through the thin soles of his shoes. Even if she screamed there would be no one to hear her. He pulled the wrench from his hip pocket and began to walk slowly towards her. She remained motionless, her back to him, her hand shielding her eyes as she looked at the sea that came inshore in little waves, running up the dry sand and then receding, leaving the sand dark and wet.

He kept the wrench behind him as he came up to her. His heart was pounding and his mouth was dry. There was no one to stop him now. He had to do it. There was no way out for him unless he silenced her.

When he was within a few yards of her, she turned and looked at him. The expression in her eyes brought him to a standstill as if he had walked into a brick wall. He could see at once that she knew what he was going to do. The fearless contempt in her eyes paralysed him. He could only stand motionless, staring at her, his face white and glistening in the hot sunlight. For a long moment, they faced each other, then she said quietly, “What are you waiting for?”

He willed himself to hit her, but he was unable to do it. If she had screamed, run, thrown up her arms, he would have hit her, but this motionless lack of fear held him rigid.

“Go on,” she said. “I knew you were going to do it. Well, do it. I don't care.”

“You shouldn't have threatened me,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper. “You asked for it and now you're going to get it.”

He was holding the wrench so she could see it.

“Is that what you're going to use?” she said calmly. “Is that what you were hiding in the car pocket?”

He was confounded by her complete lack of fear and by her quiet, calm tone. He could only stand, facing her, while he tried to force himself to strike her.

“You were crazy to think you could dictate to me,” he said hoarsely. “You're in my way. Do you imagine I'd ever knuckle under to your orders? Joan and I plan to get married. When her old man dies, she'll come into all his money. He's worth millions. Do you think I'd let you stand in the way of such a chance? It's your life or my future!”