in that position.
'Doesn't your sister go out on dates?' he asked.
'No.'
'No?'
'Well, sometimes, I suppose. Hardly ever.'
'What is she, fat and ugly?'
Melanie turned her head. In the dim light, her face was a blur. Bodie couldn't read her expression, but he guessed that she wasn't amused.
'Just trying to cheer you up,' he explained.
'She's beautiful,' Melanie said.
'As beautiful as you?'
'Yeah, I'm a regular Bo Derek.'
'You look great to me.'
'You haven't seen Pen.' There was no admiration in Melanie's voice. Her monotone sounded just slightly resentful.
'She sure has a terrible name,' Bodie said.
'Who notices?'
'Me.'
'You haven't seen her yet.'
'What does she look like?'
'The Playmate of the Year.'
'Which year?'
'Any year.'
'I can't wait to meet her›'
'I'll bet.'
Bodie reached over. He patted the back of Melanie's upraised leg. When she didn't protest, he slid his hand down the soft corduroy and caressed her rump. 'I'm not big on Playmates,' he said.
'You…'
'I know, I haven't seen Pen yet. Her favorite books must be The Prophet and Jonathan Livingston Seagull.'
Melanie humphed.
'So why doesn't she go out with guys?'
'She's got a problem with them.'
'Ah.'
'Not "ah". It's not like that. It's just that they're always hitting on her. They've been hitting on her since she was - God only knows - twelve or thirteen. She got tired of it, that's all.'
'That's some problem.'
'It can be. I suppose. I wouldn't know.'
Bodie leaned closer to Melanie. His fingertips found the center seam of her corduroys. He stroked along it, feeling her heat through the fabric. He pressed harder, rubbed. Melanie caught her breath.
'Not now,' she said.
He took his hand away.
Melanie lowered her feet to the floor and sat up straight. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered.
'No, I understand.'
'It's my family. Dad or Pen…'
'I know. I'd be upset, too. But it is Friday night. Just because nobody answered their phones, you shouldn't jump to conclusions. All you've really got to go on is that vision or whatever it was.'
'You think it was just my imagination.'
'I didn't say that.'
'It's what you're thinking.'
'No, but I do think that's possible. You're carrying around all this resentment and guilt about your father - about your sister, too, apparently. I'm no shrink, but-'
'That's right, you're not.'
'I'm just trying to help.'
'I'm not a mental case.'
'Melanie…'
'If you didn't believe me, you should've said so in the first place. I could've come by myself.' Her voice climbed higher, trembling. 'I don't need this. It's hard enough…' She inhaled with a sob. 'Forget it.'
'Hey, come on,' Bodie said softly.
She got up, squeezed between the two seats, and disappeared into the rear of the van.
Good work, Bodie thought. He sighed.
Christ, you can't win.
You'd think she would jump at the possibility that her vision was a false alarm. Does she want it to be true?
We're talking about her father or sister biting it, for Christsake.
Yeah, maybe she does want it true. In the back of her mind. Wishful thinking. All right for you, Dad. You had it coming - let Mom drown, then married a tramp young enough to be your daughter. Take that, Pen. That'll teach you - think you can get away with looking like a goddamn Playmate of the Year?
I've gotta see this Pen.
I'll bet you do, Melanie said, her voice bitter in his mind.
She wants them to pay.
Vengeance is sweet, and a whole lot sweeter if you're there to see it happen, arrange for a little telepathic