Ghost Hunters Read Free Page B

not…
    He should have brought some kind of holster. Dick didn’t want to walk around with the pistol shoved in the back of his pants. That seemed like a great way to shoot a second hole in your ass. Maybe he could just hold it, kind of down and behind his right leg. It was dark out, she might not even be able to see the gun. Unless she changed her mind and wanted to shake hands to seal the deal. Dick didn’t even know if that was a thing, shaking hands as some kind of contract not to fuck each other over, but he’d seen it in some movie about hillbillies. That one with the girl from that other movie with the bow? He shook his head. Guns were a lot of goddamned trouble.
    The plan had to be simple. He’d put the gun in his waistband, right in the middle of his back. If she changed her mind, great. They’d shake hands or French kiss or whatever the fuck these backwoods assholes did to seal the deal, and be off to the races. If she decided to fuck him over, he’d wait for her to turn away, start opening the car door. Then he’d shove the pistol into the back of her neck and march her over to the van.
    Simple. Easy.
    By four in the morning, Dick was about nod off, the cold and boredom had taken their toll on his stakeout endurance, when the Hanging Rooster’s front door cracked open. Nancy stepped out into the cold and fumbled with her purse. She dug around in it, looking for her keys, her attention wholly absorbed by the depths of her handbag.
    Dick saw his chance, and he took it. The van’s door worked with him and didn’t creak even a little bit. He watched his step as he crossed the cracked asphalt parking lot, watching for discarded beer cans or the little brown chunks of broken bottles that would alert Nancy to his approach. Dick stole through the dark night like a damned ninja, picking a silent path across the lot. He’d crept right up next to her before she even knew he was coming. “Hi, Nancy.”
    At the sound of Dick’s voice, Nancy just about jumped out of her skin. She jolted away from him, hand clutching her purse and pulling it close to her stomach. Her eyes were wild and wide and filled with a total lack of recognition. Dick froze and realized she didn’t have any idea who he was. She was acting like she’d never seen him before, like he was a crazy person come to kidnap and kill her. Then he remembered she was at least half right, potentially, and a wriggling chill crept along his spine. Second thoughts tumbled through his brain. What a stupid idea. “Uh, I was here earlier, we were talking about—”
    She fumbled with something in her purse. Dick’s thoughts raced ahead, and the world around him seemed to grind to a halt as his vision of the future played out. She had a gun in there, some little chrome thing, and she was going to pull it out and put a bullet straight through his chest. It might not kill him, but it would hurt like a motherfucker, and then his plans were really going to be shot to shit. He had to stop her.
    The gun weighed a thousand pounds. Dick knew he’d never get it drawn in time. She’d get her gun out first, game over. His hand came around, the big black pistol like the shadow of death draped from the end of his arm.
    Her hand came out of the purse. Holding her keys.
    Dick’s pistol pointed at her forehead.
    The blood washed out of Nancy’s face. She let her keys fall and raised both hands over her head. “I don’t have any cash. You can have whatever’s in my purse, just—”
    Dick’s stomach clenched. This was out of hand, he hadn’t wanted to pull a gun on her, but she’d had her hand in her purse, and he hadn’t known what might come out. Why did she make him do this? “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I need you to take me to the farm, Nancy.”
    Her eyes went wide. “I’m not Nancy.”
    “But earlier—”
    The bar door creaked open. “I’m Nancy, you idiot. That’s Liz.”
    Dick backed away from the women. They were almost identical in appearance,