Pete shook his head. "I'll have the Buster-Burger with the works, chili fries and iced tea."

"Guess I'll have the same," Larry said. "Making it easy on me, huh, fellas?" she said. Then she went away.

"So what's the story?" Pete asked.

Larry dug into his pants pocket, took out Bonnie's ring and set it down in front of Pete. "It's hers."

"What?" Pete picked up the ring and squinted at it.

"I found it on her hand."

Pete frowned at him. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

"Well shit, when did you find it?"

"Sunday morning. Before you came over. I know I should've told you about it, but-"

"Damn right..."

"I wanted to check on a few things first."

"Why you been holding out on me?"

"I don't know, Pete. I just wanted to see where it would lead. I figured I'd lay it on you once I got the whole story."

"My pal," he muttered, then studied the ring again. "Bonnie Saxon."

Hearing Pete speak her name, Larry felt an ache of loss. She was no longer his alone.

"You think that's her name?" Pete asked.

"I know that's her name. She was graduated from Buford High in 'sixty-eight. Like I said, I did some checking." He opened the manila envelope.

I don't want to do this, he thought.

But he was already committed. Besides, Pete would find out everything, sooner or later. Best to get it over with.

He slid out the Spirit Queen photograph of Bonnie. It fluttered in his trembling fingers as he passed it to Pete and took the ring back.

Pete's eyes widened. He pursed his lips. "This is her?"

"Yeah."

"Man!"

"Yeah."

"She's a fuckin' knockout."

"I know."

He shook his head. "So this is our babe."

Our babe. I shouldn't have done it. Should've kept her to myself.

"Where'd you get this?"

"A school yearbook."

"Man, you did do some checking. What else have you got?"

"Let me have it back," Larry said, holding out his hand. "Somebody might see it. There could be people in here who knew her."

Pete stared at the picture for a few more moments, then gave it back to him. Larry slipped it inside the envelope. He pulled his stack of photocopies halfway out. "There's too much here for you to read right now. I'll make copies of them, if you want."

"What do they say?"

Larry let them slide out of sight and set the envelope down beside him. "It's a long story. I had to spend a couple of days searching back issues of the town paper."

"Come on, man. Give."

Larry waited while the waitress approached with their meals. She set down the plates and drinks. "Enjoy, fellas," she said. Then she was gone.

"It started with two murders in the Sagebrush Flat Hotel." While they ate, he told Pete how the town had been abandoned after the mine failure; how the Radleys had remained, living in their hotel, after everyone else had left. He told about Uriah's trip to Mulehead Bend, the trouble with his pickup, and how he'd walked the final miles only to find his wife and daughter slain in the hotel. He gave Pete the official speculation that bikers or other transients were responsible.

"But Uriah thought they'd been killed by vampires," he said.

"That wasn't in any newspaper," Pete said.

"He had his wife and daughter cremated so they wouldn't come back to life."

"You guessing, or what?"

"Just let me go on."

"Well, how about sticking to the facts?"

"Okay. Facts. The Radley women were murdered on July fifteenth.

On July twenty-sixth a teenage girl named Sandra Dunlap was abducted from her parents' home right here in Mulehead. Blood was found on her bed. On August tenth another girl vanished. This was Linda Latham. She was apparently kidnapped on her way home from a friend's house. Bonnie Saxon-"

"That's our gal..."

"Right. She was taken from her mother's home on the night of August thirteenth. Blood was found on her bed the next day."

"Just like the other one, huh? Dunlap?"

"That's right. All three girls were about the same age. They all disappeared within a month after the Radley murders in Sagebrush Flat. The police had absolutely nothing to go on. Until Bonnie was taken. That night, a witness spotted Uriah Radley waiting around in front of her house."

"The guy from Sagebrush?"

"Right. So the cops went looking for him. They searched the hotel.

They didn't find him or the missing girls, but they found some pretty interesting stuff in one of the rooms: crucifixes, garlic cloves, a hammer and some pointed wooden stakes."

"Holy shit. So you're telling me this Uriah guy is the one who snatched the teenagers?" "It sure looks that way."

"And he's the one who staked our gal."

"Probably the others, too."

"Man, this is far out."

"You're telling me?"

"Were the other two found?"

"Not that I know of. Neither was Uriah, apparently."

"So what do you think?" Pete asked. "You think this Uriah guy went off his rocker and thought he was killing the vampires that nailed his family?"

"It sure looks that way."

"Jesus, our book's gonna be a blockbuster for sure! Now, if we just pull that stake tonight and she is a vampire-gangbusters!"

Larry's heart quickened. "Not tonight."

"Why the hell not? We've got the whole story. Everything but the finish."

"There's still a loose end."

"Okay. Your famous 'loose end.' What is it?" Larry didn't know. But he had to find a reason to delay the pulling of the stake.

Suddenly he saw the loose end. It was obvious.

"Who put the brand new lock on the hotel door?" he asked. "Who covered the break in the stairway landing? I think it might be Uriah. I think he's returned to Sagebrush Flat."

Pete, wiping his mouth with a napkin, stared at Larry. He lowered the napkin. He stroked one side of his thick mustache. His eyes narrowed. "God Almighty," he muttered. "I bet you're right. Maybe he's our friend the coyote eater."

"What if we can find him?"

"What if we can bust him! A citizen's arrest! Jumping fucking Judas, the publicity! Lar, you're a genius!"

A genius? He felt as if he had just stepped off a cliff.

"We'll go out there tomorrow," Pete said. "We'll tell the wives we're going target shooting. They didn't want to come along last time, they'll be glad to get rid of us. And we'll drive out to Sagebrush Flat and nail us a killer."

Thirty

"I asked Henry and Betty to come with us tonight," Lane said.

Jim, chewing a mouthful of apple, suddenly looked as if he'd gnashed a worm. His voice came out muffled. "You gotta be kidding."

"You don't mind too much, do you?" she asked.

"Mind? Shit! You are kidding, right?"

"I think it'll be nice."

"How could you do this to me? We haven't been out together in weeks, and now we've gotta take along those two rejects?"

"They're my best friends, Jim."

"That doesn't mean you've gotta take 'em everywhere you go. Shit.

They'll ruin everything."

"No, they won't."

"Oh, right. Sure. Damn. Can't you just tell 'em you changed your mind?"

Lane shook her head. "I knew you'd cause a stink about this."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"I felt like it, okay?"

Scowling, Jim turned away from her and bit out a chunk of apple with an angry snap of his teeth.

Lane gazed at the remains of her ham sandwich. She thought she might choke if she tried to eat any more.

A rotten trick to pull on the guy. Maybe I should tell them I changed my mind.

Damn it, though, she didn't want to be alone with him. Asking Henry and Betty to come along had been a way to squirm out of the situation: either Jim would call the whole thing off, or the presence of her friends would keep him in line. At least as long as they were in the car. Once Jim dropped them off, she'd be on her own.

I can handle him, she told herself.

But maybe I won't have to.

"Would you rather skip the whole thing?" she asked.