Dead Man's Curve

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Dead Man's Curve Page 13

by Jack Patterson


  “No, but she had an incident before contracting Alzheimer’s—one she wouldn’t tell me about. Until I read the entry in her journal that she left out for me. Or maybe she didn’t leave it out for me. I can’t be sure. But either way, I read it and I know why she had so many issues.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Because of what they did to her.”

  “And what did they do to her?”

  Before Palmer could answer, someone knocked on the door. “Are you two hungry? I’ve got a meal for you if you are.”

  It was Seth Reed again. He didn’t wait for their reply, entering with a pair of trays loaded with food.

  “Nice. Room service,” Hannah said as she eyed the smorgasbord spilling off the plate Reed handed her.

  “More like a final meal,” Palmer muttered.

  “Hey, come on, Palmer,” Reed said. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

  Palmer tried to stand up to confront Reed only to be pulled back down to the ground by the chains designed to anchor him there.

  Reed laughed. “Just chill out, okay?”

  “I can’t chill, Reed. You wanna know why?”

  No answer.

  “It’s because my wife is home dying and I need to be there to take care of her.”

  Reed folded his arms and drew back while staring at Palmer. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you. Our nurse is off today and if I’m not back to give her meds, she could go into a seizure or worse yet—she could die.”

  “Don’t try to play me for the fool, Palmer.”

  “I swear, man. Just let me check on her. I’ll come back—I promise. I just can’t have her dying on me. Not today at least.” He continued to loosen his bindings and was almost free of them.

  Reed chortled. “You’re persistent if nothing else.”

  As he knelt down to hand Palmer his food, Palmer reached up and grabbed him. The two writhed on the ground for a few moments. Palmer gained the upper hand several times only to have Reed reverse his fortunes and assume an advantageous position. As they traded spots, Palmer finally realized he needed to do something to break the cycle and put Reed down before he attracted too much attention. As soon as he slipped behind Reed, Palmer put him in a sleeper hold while covering his mouth with his hand.

  “That’s right,” Palmer said. “Just go to sleep.”

  In a matter of seconds, Reed collapsed. Palmer fished around in Reed’s pockets for a key and dug it out. He loosed himself and stood up.

  “Take me with you,” Hannah said. “Especially if it’s as bad as you say it is.”

  “I can’t. We’ll cause too much of a raucous. But I’ll be back to get you.”

  She squirmed on the dirt floor. “If you don’t, I’ll scream.”

  “Scream if you must, but you’ll ruin any chance of me breaking you out of here and escaping for good.”

  “Fine,” Hannah huffed. “You win. But you better not be lying to me.”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  Palmer crept out of the shed and into the woods. He looked back to see the cabin lights to The Gentleman’s Club glowing, an ironic beacon in the dark woods. Straining to see what was ahead of him, he walked carefully for a couple hundred feet until he was sure he was out of earshot. Then he sprinted toward the road.

  I’m coming back for all of you.

  For the next ten minutes, he ran hard until he reached the front steps of his home. He went inside to check on his wife. She was sleeping peacefully.

  He descended the steps into his basement and assembled an arsenal. Semi-automatic weapons, knives, throwing stars. Anything that could wound his enemies sufficed. He decided to paint his face black before heading back.

  They’ll never see me coming.

  And he was right.

  CHAPTER 29

  CAL’S EARS WOULDN’T STOP RINGING. The high-pitched squeal worming its way into his head felt like it might not end. He squirmed on the ground, grabbing his head. Lying in the dirt, he looked around in search of anything familiar. Nothing.

  Where am I? Where’s Kelly?

  He staggered to his feet, fighting to do so in spite of the bindings on his hands and feet and the handkerchief in his mouth, tied snugly around his head. After a few moments, the ringing ceased. Then he spotted Kelly, who sat gagged and bound in the corner.

  “Are you all right?” he mumbled through his gag.

  She shrugged.

  Cal wasn’t convinced she understood him, but she didn’t look like she was too beat up. Just a bruise on her face. Maybe it was from a punch. Maybe it was from the air bag. He couldn’t be sure—but he needed to be. If she needed medical attention, he’d take extra chances to escape so he could save her. Otherwise, he’d remain patient—and think.

  He hopped over to Kelly and knelt down in front of her. Instinctively, she turned her head so he could begin untying her gag. Cal laughed to himself. If only this weren’t so serious. This wasn’t the first time they’d been tied up together, and given their penchant for danger, he doubted it would be their last. Moments later, he worked the knot loose.

  He sat down and allowed her to untie his gag—while she talked.

  “What’s going on, Cal? Where are we? I knew we should’ve gone straight to the hotel,” she said.

  Cal remained quiet while Kelly continued to work on freeing his gag.

  “We’re in a holding facility for The Gentleman’s Club,” came a voice from the corner.

  Cal and Kelly both spun to look in the direction of the voice.

  “Hi, I’m Hannah, your cellmate for the evening and soon-to-be ex-employee of Lee Creek Distilleries,” she said while she shuffled toward them. “Need a hand?”

  Hannah worked with Kelly to loosen Cal’s gag. Then they worked methodically on untying one another’s rope bindings.

  Kelly rubbed her wrists before slumping against the wall. “So, how do we get outta here?”

  “Unless you’ve got a sick wife dying of cancer and an empathetic guard, you don’t,” Hannah deadpanned.

  “Was Justin Palmer in here with you?” Cal asked.

  “Yeah, but he somehow managed to escape,” Hannah said. “He promised to come back, but if I were him, I’d pack up my car and leave now, never to return. This place is a black hole.”

  Kelly sat up straight. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s the Millersville version of Hotel California. You can check in but you can never leave.”

  “How do you know this?” Cal asked.

  “I don’t for sure,” she said. “I’ve just heard it’s a playground for Miller County’s wealthy and privileged. People talk, but nobody really knows for sure.”

  “How long have you been here?” Kelly asked.

  “About a day. But I don’t think they have anything good in mind planned for me.” Hannah kicked at the dirt. “If what they want to do to me is as awful as what the girl before me experienced, I don’t want any part of what’s going down in there.”

  Kelly sat quietly, putting the pieces together in her head. “This morning, we saw some girls at the crash site of a Lee Creek truck on the highway. Any idea what they were doing there?”

  “If they weren’t passengers from another vehicle, they weren’t driving one of our trucks, I can tell you that much. Mr. Lee isn’t shy about expressing his opinion on women drivers and has stated many times how he’d never allow a woman to drive some of his most precious cargo around.” She paused. “Look, there’s always something strange going on at that place, but I don’t ask any questions. No need to. It’s the highest paying job in town for me and I can’t afford to go anywhere else. So, you just learn to look the other way.”

  “Look the other way from what?” Kelly demanded.

  “Odd things, weird things. Things that you wouldn’t get answers to even if you asked.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like women hitching rides in our delivery trucks. What’s that all about?


  Cal cleared his throat. “I think I might know.”

  They both turned to look at him, just in time to hear a key jiggling into the lock and the door flinging open.

  “Good evening, ladies,” a burly man said as he stomped into the shack. “I see you’ve freed yourselves. It won’t matter. This will all be over with shortly. So, who wants to go first?”

  Both women put their heads down and froze.

  “Very well then. I guess I’ll have to pick one for myself.” He circled the two women, pausing only to kick Cal several times in the ribs. Cal doubled over in pain and moaned.

  “Remember, boss said to save Cal’s gal for later,” the guard flanking the man said.

  “Very well then,” the man said, grabbing Hannah by her hair. “I guess it’ll be you then.” He turned and looked at Kelly and winked. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll be back for you later.”

  Hannah struggled to her feet as the man yanked her up by her hair. She winced from the pain.

  “If you think this is bad, just you wait,” he said, busting out into a roaring laugh. “You’ll be begging to have just your hair pulled by the time this is all over.”

  He marched her out the door and closed it shut. The lock clicked into place.

  “Cal, what are we gonna do?” Kelly said.

  “Just let me think. There’s gotta be a way out of this.”

  “I saw three guards standing outside with guns. We’ve got nothin’.”

  “Are they still there?” Cal whispered.

  Kelly crept toward the door and peered underneath it into the darkness. The glow from the cabin provided just enough light for her to see what was directly outside.

  “I can only see one guard right now, but he’s got a gun,” she said.

  Cal took a deep breath. “What about the back? Let’s look over there.”

  They both jammed their faces against the slats and strained to see into the darkness.

  “You see anything?” Cal asked.

  “No. You?”

  “Looks good to me. Let’s dig.”

  Cal and Kelly went to work, scooping up the dirt around the back wall of the shed and creating a hole to the outside.

  “You think this will work?” Kelly asked.

  “Got any better ideas?” Cal glanced at her. She never looked up.

  After several minutes, the piercing screams from Hannah coupled with the guffaws of drunken men filled the forest air.

  “Faster,” Kelly said.

  They clawed furiously at the ground, raking out piles of dirt with each pull. Cal carefully broke off a slat from the wall to help him soften and scrape up the ground even more.

  “It’s working,” Cal said. “Keep going.”

  After about fifteen more minutes, Cal deemed their work complete. He looked at Kelly. “You ready?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  As he turned on his back and prepared to go headfirst beneath the wall, he felt a swift kick in the ribs.

  “Going somewhere?” It was one of the burly men from before who’d chained him up. “You didn’t think we were just gonna let you walk out of here, now did you? Mr. Lee has big plans for your wife.” He broke into a belly laugh.

  With his face planted firmly against the wall by the man’s giant hands, Cal grimaced as his face was raked down the rough slats.

  Another man yanked Kelly out of the shed. “You’re coming with me.”

  “No, wait,” Cal said. “Don’t do this.”

  “Or what? You’re going to do something about it? You have no idea, do you?” The big man forced Cal back into the shed and chained him up again. “This is your last hour on this planet, son. You were warned, but you didn’t listen.”

  Cal wrestled with the chains to no avail. The last thing he heard were Kelly’s screams for help before the guard picked up a board Cal had torn loose and whacked him in the head with it.

  CHAPTER 30

  WILFRED LEE BOUNCED in his seat as his truck navigated the potholes leading to The Gentleman’s Club. He rolled down his window and spewed out a stream of tobacco juice. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel as he reflected on the events of the past week. It wasn’t supposed to go like this—not for him.

  What Wilfred Lee wants, Wilfred Lee gets.

  It seemed to be a proven refrain in his life.

  Five years ago, he wanted to divorce his meddling wife and send her packing without a dime in alimony. One of his cronies overseeing the divorce proceedings refused to recuse himself and granted Lee’s wishes. Just to make sure that ruling remained intact, he paid off his wife’s divorce lawyer to ensure no appeal was filed.

  Five years before that, he bullied his way into a competitor’s distillery and bought it—and then shut it down. The terms of the deal excluded the former owner from engaging in any distillery business or else it would cost him his sale price.

  But it wasn’t always that way.

  Lee snorted as he reflected back to a time when things didn’t go his way. He felt lost, out of control. And it was happening all over again. No matter how much power and influence he had, he feared this situation wouldn’t end well. Not that he wasn’t going do his best to stop it.

  His truck rolled to a halt. He slid out of the truck, his feet hitting the ground with a thud. He grabbed his cane and hobbled up the steps of the porch and into The Gentleman’s Club. The moment he swung open the screen door, the banter ceased. Every eye tracked with Lee’s slow movements.

  A grin spread slowly across his face. “Well, looky what we have here. If it isn’t Kelly Murphy, photographer extraordinaire. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company here with us this evening?”

  He stared at her for a few moments and waited for her reply. Not that he’d have been able to understand her if she decided to talk back. The gag in her mouth appeared snug, pinching her cheeks. In front of her, Kelly’s hands remained bound. Other than turning to glare at Lee, she held fast where she stood.

  “If only you could shoot bullets with those eyes—” he started. He rambled around the room before he lurched toward her. Leaning his cane against the table, he stroked her brunette locks and smiled. “It’s a good thing you can’t.”

  Lee proceeded to grab a fistful of her hair and jerk her head backward. Kelly writhed in pain as her head snapped back. Lee cackled as she struggled to turn her head to see him. Her eyes had grown wide—so wide that Lee could see his reflection in them along with the fire that sparked behind him.

  She whimpered as he thrust her head forward and released her. He shuffled around the table again before he stopped, this time forcing her head down against the table as he leaned down and put his face only a few inches from hers.

  “I thought I told you to leave Millersville,” he said, his tone demeaning, his cadence measured. “But you and that worthless husband of yours ignored me. You’ve got no jobs, no prospects, and no future. Yet here you are—in my town, sticking your snouts where they don’t belong.” Lee mashed her nose for emphasis.

  He stood up and remained in her line of sight.

  “You just had to find out what was going on in Miller County. You just had to find out what The Gentleman’s Club was. You just had to keep doing everything we told you not to.”

  Lee shuffled over to Sheriff Wilson and pushed him toward Kelly still lying face down on the table in the center of the room.

  “Sheriff Wilson warned you, but you didn’t listen.” He shoved him away. “I told you. Steve even told you to stop—even though that man will dance on my grave if he outlives me. But you couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

  He picked up his cane and drew it back with both hands over his head before crashing it down just above Kelly’s head. She jumped as it cracked on the table. The rest of the men roared with laughter.

  Lee stood upright and motioned for one of the men. He whispered in his hear and the man exited the cabin.

  “I think it’s time to teach this snoopy little picture taker a lesson
, isn’t it, boys?” Lee chided. “She wants to know all about this place and what we do here, and I think we ought to show her—without letting her have a camera, of course.”

  The man returned, rolling a barrel over to Lee, who used it as a stool for his right leg in order to steady his weight. Lee grabbed Kelly by her hair and slammed her face down again against the table, evoking a muffled scream.

  “Now, Mrs. Murphy, I see everything that goes on around Miller County. You can’t scratch your nose without me finding out about it. So, when I heard that you were snooping around Lee Creek Distilleries—a crime, I might add—and taking pictures, I wondered what you found so interesting about a bunch of whiskey barrels.” Lee stopped and stamped his cane. “And then I realized what you’d really seen that piqued your interest: people exchanging cash while barrels were loaded onto the truck. A strange business practice, indeed, if you’re simply selling whiskey. But I don’t just sell whiskey, Mrs. Murphy. I sell what people crave to make them forget about their pathetic little lives. I don’t care what it is—booze, women, drugs. Makes no difference to me. The desire to escape the little prisons we’ve created for ourselves is always in demand. At heart, I’m just a simple businessman who likes to provide people with what they want. And I’ve figured out what people want.”

  Lee paced around the room for a moment and took a deep breath.

  “But Mrs. Murphy, you’re an outlier, an enigma. You’re the kind of person who throws a wrench in my otherwise perfect business model. What you want is something people don’t really need: the truth. There’s no need to go ruining our little fun here in Miller County. But you and that persistent little husband of yours are trying to sell something that I don’t think needs to be on the market here—or anywhere, quite frankly. There’s no need to remind people about the reality of our lives when they can escape it—for a price, of course. But, out of common courtesy, I’m not just going to tell you the truth about what goes on here. I’m going to show you. I’m going to show you what goes into these barrels. However, there’s a little piece of business we must attend to first.”

  The men started hollering and making catcalls.

 

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