Dead Man's Curve

by Jack Patterson

  Lee hunched down next to Kelly, whose face remained plastered to the table. He whispered, “This is going to be very unpleasant—for you.” He then stood up and broke out into laughter. “Go get her husband. I want that imbecile to watch this.”

  CHAPTER 31

  CAL AWAKENED ALONE in the shed. Aside from the dulled clinking of chains when he moved, the only sound he heard was that of a muffled voice coming from the cabin. He strained to see through some of the cracks in the boards, but the restraints on his wrists and ankles prevented him from gaining a clear picture of what was going on in The Gentleman’s Club.

  Think, Cal, think.

  With Kelly missing, he felt more anxious than ever. He pulled at the chains in frustration. They held fast as Cal felt the jagged edges on the cuffs digging into his skin. While he tried to come up with a way to escape the shackles, he realized having his hands free was an advantage. Rust coated the outside of the chains along with splotches of dried blood. If he could just find something to toggle the lock and break free.

  Streaks of light beaming through the slatted wood didn’t provide enough light for Cal to survey the innards of the shack. From the moment he stepped inside, he believed it to be a stark place, not a true utility shed. And as he searched for a way out, Cal’s assumptions were confirmed. Nothing.

  He slumped to the ground and fell backward, butting his head against the back of the shack. A sharp twinge pierced his scalp. He sat up.

  “What’s this?”

  A chipped nail head was the culprit. More importantly, the head of a loose nail.

  Cal flipped over onto his stomach and used both his hands to wiggle the nail out of the board. It took less than a minute before he had the tool he needed to free himself. He went to work, rooting the device around in the lock until he heard a click.

  Bingo!

  He released the other arm before addressing his ankles. In all, it took Cal about two minutes to discard the chains. He stood up and stretched before striding to the front door of the shack that faced the cabin. Pressing his face flat against the door, he could see the cabin now brimming with men, several of whom he recognized. The men remained crowded in a circle, blocking Cal’s view of what was going on inside. And while he couldn’t see it, he knew who was at the center of it all as the distinct sound of Wilfred Lee’s voice bellowed into the forest. He struggled to make sense of the words, which remained garbled from such a distance.

  Cal stepped back from the door and anxiety started to overwhelm him. Where was Kelly? He wanted to get out of there, but he had to find her first. More than anything, he needed help. Even if he could escape—and do it with Kelly—he didn’t like his odds of getting out of the Daniel Boone National Forest without being recaptured by these men who’d grown up here.

  He leaned back against the door and tried to figure out who was guarding him. Cal couldn’t make out any unique facial features, except for an eye patch.

  Cal hustled back over to the chains and threw them over his shoulder, gripping the ends tightly.

  “Hey! Can a man get a drink of water in here? I’m really thirsty,” Cal said.

  Moments later, the lock clicked open and the man with the patch pushed the door open and entered the shack.

  Cal hid behind the door, doubling his advantage. Surprise and poor peripheral vision—and a pile of heavy chains—tilted the scales in his favor. Before the man looked in his direction, Cal unleashed a whirling swing at the man. He connected, sending the man sprawling to the ground as he moaned and writhed in the dirt. Cal rocked back and bashed the man in the head with the chains a second time. This time, he didn’t move after the hit.

  Cal knelt down and dug through the man’s pockets until he found his own phone. He entered his security code and the screen lit up, the message from Corliss still there.

  I knew it.

  He dialed Corliss’ number. Nothing. He glanced at the upper left corner of the phone and realized he had no service. The holler proved to be a daunting enemy at the moment.

  Cal peeked out of the door and scanned the area for a ridge.

  Getting to a rise might be just enough to get a signal.

  He retreated into the cabin and pilfered anything else he could find in the man’s pockets. A lighter. Keys to a vehicle. Sixty dollars in cash.

  Cal crept to the doorway and looked around. The two guards he’d seen patrolling the grounds earlier were standing on the porch, peering into the window at the action.

  It’s now or never.

  Cal raced out of the door and sprinted toward a significant ridge northeast of the cabin. Just as he turned the corner of the cabin, a forearm from the shadows caught him in the neck, knocking him onto his back.

  “Not so fast, little buddy,” the man said. He snatched Cal up and marched him toward the shed. But before they could get there, two other men burst out of the cabin and ran over to them.

  “Lee wants him inside,” one of the men said.

  The captor shoved Cal toward them. “He’s all yours. Go easy on him. He’s a little delicate.”

  The two men grabbed Cal and led him into the cabin.

  The first thing he saw was Wilfred Lee, whose mouth curled upward at the edges. “Welcome to The Gentleman’s Club,” he said.

  Then Cal’s eyes were drawn to the table in the middle of the room, where Kelly was lying sprawled out and face down.

  “Cal!” she mumbled through her gag.

  “Kelly, it’s gonna be all right. Don’t worry,” he said.

  The room broke out into laughter. “He’s right, Kelly. Everything is gonna be all right—for us. I wish I could say the same for you, but who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy this.”

  All the men began stamping their feet and chanting, “We want Kelly! We want Kelly! We want Kelly! We want Kelly!”

  Cal’s stomach turned as he watched Lee pull out a knife and cut a slit in Kelly’s dress just above her waist. He proceeded to rip the dress in half and began waving around the bottom half as the men continued to chant.

  “So,” Lee said while leaning forward on his cane with both hands, “who’d like to go first?”

  Cal grimaced and turned away.

  “No, no, no, Mr. Murphy,” Lee said as he shuffled toward him. “You’re going to have to watch now.” He paused and scanned the room. “Perhaps, you’d prefer a double feature instead.”

  The men thundered their approval.

  “Well, bring her out then,” Lee said.

  Everyone turned toward the corner of the room where there was a small closet. One of the men flung the door open and dragged Hannah Hartley across the floor, flinging her up onto the table next to Kelly. Hannah’s dress was ripped and torn. Blood streaked down the front of her face as some of it had matted her hair to her face. Her mascara stained her cheeks, though she didn’t look like she was about to shed another tear. She scowled as one of the men thrust her down and jerked her around while tying her up. For a few moments, she put up a small fight. But it didn’t last long. She appeared pale and forlorn, like all the life had been zapped from her.

  Lee walked over to Cal and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. He put his arm around Cal and pointed at the women with his cane.

  “Now, I can’t thank you enough for helping provide these women for tonight’s activities,” Lee said. “Earlier today, I had to create an accident to get the feds to take my little nephew someplace where I could control things. But you had to get in the away again—this time by snooping around and taking pictures of those girls your wife here saw at the accident site earlier today.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “I had a client who was interested in those two women. We were making a trade today, as we were all expecting much younger women tonight. But when my business associate heard that I wasn’t going to be able to fulfill my end of the bargain due to your meddling wife, he withdrew his product, leaving me in a quandary as to how I might satisfy my customers—and here we are.”

  Cal, restrained by a pair of men h
olding him by his biceps, looked aside again.

  “No, sir,” Lee said as he grabbed Cal’s face and forced him to look at the table. “You’re going to watch every excruciating minute of this.”

  “Now, I’ll ask again—who wants to go first?”

  The front door flew open and rattled as it struck the wall.

  Justin Palmer, laden with a pair of semi-automatic assault rifles, glared at Lee. “The real question is who wants to die first?”

  CHAPTER 32

  “EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR—now,” Palmer demanded. He scanned the room for any quick movements, spotting one man reaching behind his back for what Palmer presumed to be a weapon. He stormed across the room and kicked the guy in the gut. “Don’t try to be a hero.”

  The men eased to the ground, unwilling to test Palmer’s resolve. Most of them threw their hands in the air as they settled onto the floor. Palmer held the advantage for the moment, but he needed to act fast before someone came up with a plan and seized an opportunity to gain an advantage over him.

  Palmer selected two frightened-looking men and ordered them to untie Kelly and Hannah. Once they released the women, he shoved his guns into their chests.

  “Nuh-huh. Both of you, take your pants off and give them to these ladies,” Palmer said. “It’s the least you can do in a place named The Gentleman’s Club.”

  The two men complied. Palmer seethed as he watched Kelly and Hannah sob while they got dressed.

  “Cal, see to your wife,” he said.

  Cal jumped up and ran over to Kelly. He put his arm around her, trying to console her. Though she’d been spared any assault, humiliation abounded. She buried her head into Cal’s chest.

  Palmer paced around the room, his boots thudding heavily with each step. His eyes narrowed as he studied the men he’d grown up with and worked next to for the past several years. He exercised every ounce of restraint from holding down his trigger finger and spraying the room.

  He stopped and cleared his throat. “You know, I have half a mind to rid the world of this vile cesspool ironically called The Gentleman’s Club.” He chuckled and shook his head. “There’s nothing gentlemanly about it. What goes on here is vile and disgusting—just like all of you. For the longest time, I wondered what you guys did out here. I wanted to be a part of it all, see what the big secret was all about. Now that I know, I want nothing to do with any of you, ever.”

  Lee piped up, “Now, Palmer, we can always add new members through our yearly initiation ceremony. If you’re willing to spend an evening on the table, you’re welcome to enjoy the benefits of membership and the pleasure that goes along with it for a lifetime.”

  “Shut up,” Palmer growled. “Your mere presence makes me wretch. Be thankful I haven’t shot you in the head—yet.”

  Lee stepped forward. “Now, you’ve just got this all wrong, I—”

  Palmer put his shoulder into Lee, sending him sprawling to the ground. He picked up his cane and broke in two over his knee.

  “The only thing I’ve ever been wrong about is you.” Palmer continued to pace. “You know, there was a time—a few days ago, in fact—when I thought you really cared about me and my family. Sure, I knew you probably had something to do with my daughter’s death or at least wanted to protect someone who did. Then I found this.” Palmer held up his wife’s journal. He waved it around for everyone to see.

  “You know what this is? This is my wife’s journal. My sick wife who’s dying with Alzheimer’s who can barely communicate with me and hardly remembers my name half the time—this is her journal. It’s what she wrote when she still had her wits about her and disease wasn’t ravaging her body.”

  He thumbed through a few pages before stopping.

  “Let me read what she wrote on Jan 19, 2002:

  I just endured the most degrading moment of my life and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to overcome it. But I must. And I must keep this secret buried as long as I can, for I’m afraid it will kill Justin—if not, he may kill those responsible.

  I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this fifth circle of hell thrust upon me by the most powerful man in Millersville, Wilfred Lee. I barely understand what my husband sees in me, but I certainly have no idea why Mr. Lee would single me out. There are far more beautiful women in this county than myself, but it apparently wasn’t the criteria for him selecting me tonight to be part of the main activities at The Gentleman’s Club.

  I’ve heard about this place ever since I was a teenager. It seemed more myth and legend than actual truth. While what I’d heard about the place still seemed vile to me, it was nothing more than a discreet cathouse for the men of this city. But I found out the hard way that it’s far more, nothing less than a misogynistic cesspool, led by men who seek to dominate and control.

  Palmer paused to scan the room before wiping away the tears that trickled down his face. He wiped his nose with his forearm before continuing.

  I could go into all the gory details about what happened, but I don’t want to relive them all. I just want to document the following: I was dragged there against my will, beaten and raped repeatedly. Mr. Lee warned me if I ever told my husband that he’d kill Justin and Emily—and leave me to wallow in my pain. He also told me he owned everyone in the town and that such accusations would be summarily dismissed and I would be exiled from the community. And I don’t doubt that’s true, even though that’s the least of my worries at this point. I just hope I can find a way to get through the pain that I feel. …”

  Palmer’s voice trailed off. He slammed the book shut and stomped over to Lee before shoving the old man in the chest with the butt of one of his rifles. Lee, who’d sat up at this point, toppled to the ground and landed on his back. Palmer put his boot heel on Lee’s chest and mashed hard. The pressure elicited painful moans from Lee.

  “You like that, Mr. Lee?” Palmer asked. “Does it feel good to be helpless while another man has his way with you?”

  Palmer backed up and paced the room again in silence.

  Then he unleashed a scream and started yelling at Lee. “You did this to my wife. My wife. You filthy excuse for a human being. I should make your perverted groupies abuse you like you did to my wife, you sicko. But you’d probably enjoy it. You’re garbage. That’s all you are. A pathetic excuse for not only a man but a member of the human race.”

  Palmer unloaded a string of expletives on Lee, who almost cowered into the floor. As terror filled Lee’s eyes, he shrank from Palmer.

  “Now, you might be asking yourself, how did Justin Palmer escape my fortress and come back with a vengeance?” Palmer said. “The answer is that not everyone around you is as loyal to you as you’d like to think. Some people stop and think for themselves, even if it is for just a moment. I know not everyone in this room is as monstrous as you are, but they all deserve the same fate—prison.”

  Palmer noticed a few men talking among themselves. He fired off a few rounds into the ceiling, drawing gasps from the men.

  “This is not the time to have conversations, gentlemen. This is time to listen to me—and to be reminded that you’re all filthy scum and that this is the end of the line.”

  He turned in Lee’s direction. “Stand up,” Palmer ordered.

  Lee struggled to his feet using the shoulders of the two men next to him to arise.

  “Come here.”

  Lee wobbled toward Palmer and with each step appeared he might collapse.

  “That’s far enough,” Palmer said as the distiller came within six feet. Palmer pulled out his phone and punched a few buttons on it. “Now I want you to tell everyone what you’ve done.”

  Lee looked at the ground and didn’t say a word.

  “Go ahead. Don’t be shy. You’ve been proud of this operation for a long time—no need to be silent about it now. Tell everyone what you’ve done.”

  Lee swayed back and forth. “We—I established the Gentleman’s Club twenty years ago to help provide the men of Miller County with an
outlet for their desires.”

  “Don’t be shy about the details,” Palmer chimed in. “Tell us what you did with the women you brought here.”

  “We pleasured ourselves with them.”

  Palmer broke into a guffaw. “Pleasured yourselves? Is that all you saw it as? How about brutally raped them? Isn’t that a more accurate depiction.”

  Lee nodded.

  “I didn’t hear you,” Palmer said. “Louder.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, we raped them.”

  Palmer stamped his foot again. “Was one of those women my wife?”

  Lee nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you again.”

  “Yes,” Lee muttered.

  “Good. Now go have a seat old man,” Palmer said as he shoved the man backward. Lee staggered a few feet before collapsing to the ground.

  Palmer turned toward Cal, Kelly and Hannah. “I think we have what we need, even if this isn’t admissible in a court of law. Think this is enough for you to write a story?”

  Cal nodded.

  “Good. Now, let’s get out of here.”

  Palmer turned his back toward the door and walked backward toward the exit. “If any of you move,” he warned, “I won’t hesitate to shoot.” He looked back over his shoulder to check on the prisoners he’d freed. They had all stopped and were putting their hands in the air.

  “What the—”

  “Hello, Mr. Palmer,” came the voice from outside. “I suggest you put your gun down and head inside. We have some business to attend to.”

  It was Jeremy Lee.

  CHAPTER 33

  “TAKE HIS GUN,” ordered Jeremy Lee to one of the men standing near the entryway. The entire party Palmer had just freed walked backward into the cabin with their hands raised.

  Jeremy palmed a handgun tucked in the back of his pants and handed it to his father.

  “Thank you,” Lee said. He rubbed his head. “What more could a man ask for in a son?”

  Lee teetered as he walked toward Palmer. “You’re not such a tough guy now, are you?” He reared back and struck Palmer on his right knee, sending him to the floor. “Barge into my house with guns and act like you’re mister tough guy.” Lee shook his head. “You even broke my cane. Now I’ll use it against you.” He bent down and picked up one of the pieces of his walking stick before striking Palmer across the face with it.