You Live Once by John D. MacDonald Page A

had tied on such a load he was pretty shaggy about the details. But we got it all checked out. He wouldn’t say anything for a while, until we convinced him he was in bad trouble. He didn’t want to talk because there is going to be some trouble with the husband of one of the two girls they picked up. You know something funny? He says this and I believe him. It’s the first time in his whole life he ever did anything like that. How about that?”
    “Rough.”
    “He loses his job because the Olan girl went out with him. He gets in a big jam. It’s a real mess for that boy. He got drunk on account of the Olan girl.”
    “Is that what he says?”
    “I believe that, too. You know, that little girl was a bad actor. The more I dig, the more I find out. She went up there before her uncle opened the place at the lake just to make trouble for Yeagger. She took him back to the place. She had a key. She took him in there and taught him most of the facts of life in one big lesson. Getting that out of him was like pulling teeth. She went up a few more times, got him all mixed up and involved, and then dropped him like he was dirt.”
    “I’ll be damned.”
    “You know, he hates you, Sewell. He thinks you took her away from him. He thinks you were getting what he was missing.”
    “I wasn’t. But it wasn’t for lack of trying, Captain.”
    “I can believe that. I saw her alive a couple times. Nice little piece. Even dead she doesn’t look too bad. Here’s a funny thing. This Yeagger thought Willy Pryor knew what was going on.”
    “I can hardly believe that.”
    “I don’t believe it. He says he got that impression from something the Olan girl said to him. He can’t remember just what it was. He thinks she said Willy Pryor knew everything she did. That she told him, or something like that. As if she bragged to him.”
    “She must have been just talking.”
    “I figure it that way. Sewell, you didn’t drop that body off on your way to the lake, did you?”
    My heart took a fast uppercut at the back of my throat and dropped back lower than where it belonged. Then I saw that he was half smiling.
    “I didn’t want to get my car messed up. I dragged the body along behind.”
    “I sure wish I knew who lugged her up there. It wasn’t Yeagger. You go on home and get your sleep, Sewell.”
    He walked out with me. We stood near the door chatting when Yeagger came through, being escorted toward the door by Hilver. They had apparently grabbed him in his work clothes and he was still in them. He was overwhelmingly big, well over six feet tall, and physically hard. Thigh muscles bulged the tight jeans. He looked surly, weary, discouraged.
    He recognized me and his face changed. He looked away quickly and went on out the front door. Hilver stood and watched him go. The door swung shut.
    “How’ll he get back?” Kruslov asked.
    “I asked him. He says he’ll get back. I guess he’s big enough to take care of himself.”
    The three of us chatted for a few moments and then I left. It was well after midnight and the town was asleep. It is pretty much of a Saturday night town. I walked to my car. I knew that Yeagger was out here in the night. I remembered the way he had looked at me, and it made the back of my neck feel odd. I walked slower than I wanted to, to prove to myself that I wasn’t frightened.
    My car was parked too far from the nearest street light. As I took my keys out of my pocket, a big shadowdetached itself from the darker mass of my car and stood blocking the way.
    “Yeagger?” I said. The night street was too empty, and my voice was too thin.
    He called me a foul name and leaped toward me. I struck at him and hit an arm like an oak limb. He caught my wrist and twisted it. It spun me around, my wrist and hand pinned high between my shoulder blades. I’ve never felt frail or inadequate, but he handled me as easily as I’d handle a child. There was a thick sour smell of sweat about him. The pain in my arm