Resurrection Dreams by Richard Laymon Page B

butt-naked in the back seat of Rob’s Firebird, going at it hot and heavy, when Dexter shined his flashlight through the window. He opened the door and ordered them both out of the car. He didn’t even allow them time to put their clothes on. Ace snatched her gown off the floor as she crawled out, and held it against herself while Dexter brow-beat them about fornication and the possibility of getting themselves killed by a wandering lunatic. About the time he was threatening to run them in for indecent exposure and phone their parents, headlights appeared up the road. Ace dropped her gown and put her hands on top of her head. “Guess you wanta frisk me,” she said. Dexter grabbed up her gown and shoved it at her and yelled, “Get outa here, you crazy bitch!” And she and Rob scampered into his car and peeled away while the other car was still approaching.
    Vicki got to her feet, brushed off the rear of her shorts, and started running.
    Anyone other than Ace, she thought, would’ve been too humiliated from an experience like that to ever look Dexter in the eye again. So what does she do? She rents me an apartment from him.
    When Vicki had found out, over vodka and tonic that first night at Ace’s house, that Dexter Pollock was the owner, she’d said, “Are you out of your mind?”
    “I told him it was for you,” Ace said, “and he dropped the rent ten percent.”
    “I hope you’re kidding.”
    “He said he figured it’d be handy having a doctor in the building.”
    “I’m not a plumber, for Pete’s sake.”
    “Probably wants you to look after his plumbing.”
    “Ha ha. Jesus.”
    “He’s not such a bad guy. He mellowed out some, after his Minnie kicked over.”
    “You’ve sure got a short memory, Ace. You forget all about Senior Dance night?”
    “Nope.” She grinned. “Neither’s he. Poor old fart goes red as a pimple every time he looks at me. The truth is, I scare him shitless. He thinks I’m nuts.”
    “Because you dropped your dress in front of him?”
    “Partly that.” Ace stirred her ice cubes with a finger, smiling down into her drink. “You wouldn’t remember those skimpy black panties I bought mail-order?”
    “You wanted me to order some.”
    “Those are the ones. Well, day after my run-in with Dexter, I mailed ‘em to his house with a note. Said, ‘Dear Dex, Keep these as a souvenir of our ecstasy. Love and kisses, Honey Pot.’”
    “You didn’t.”
    “Wanta bet? And I personally saw Minnie take the envelope out of the mailbox the next morning.”
    “Mean.”
    “He’s lucky that’s all I did,” Ace said, her amused exterior cracking for just an instant and letting out the bitterness. Then she was grinning again. “Poor jerk hasn’t pestered me since.”
    I oughta do something like that, Vicki thought as she rounded a corner and headed for Center Street. Make him think I’m crazy, so he’ll leave me alone.
    Or threaten to sic Ace on him if he gives me any more grief.
    Better just to move out and find a new apartment.
    Give it a couple of weeks, though, see how it goes.
    She leaped off the curb at Center Street and looked to the right. The downtown business area of Ellsworth was gray in the pre-dawn light. A few cars were parked in front of the shops, but no one was about.
    Light spilled onto the sidewalk from the windows of the bakery a block away. On other mornings, she had run in that direction. She knew the bakery was the only place open. Though she couldn’t smell the doughnuts from here, she remembered the delicious aromas and how they made her mouth water when she passed by.
    It was sheer torture to run through those sweet smells and not stop in.
    She decided to avoid that particular agony this morning, turned her back to the shops of the town, and headed north. She passed the dark windows of Riverfront Bait and Tackle, then left the walkway and ran through the grass of the long municipal park that bordered the river. A soft mist hung over the water. She saw