Death at Devil's Bridge

by Cynthia DeFelice

  “Oh, right,” I said, thinking miserably, This nightmare doesn’t go away; it just gets worse and worse. I didn’t want to hurt Barry’s feelings—and Mom’s, too—by saying no, but I couldn’t have Barry coming with me. “The thing is, I don’t know where the fish are, exactly. How about if I scout around tonight, kind of check out the situation, and we can go catch ’em tomorrow night?”

  It was a lame excuse, and it sounded like one. Barry quickly tried to hide the expression of hurt on his face, and Mom gave me a long, probing look. I felt like a total creep.

  “All right,” Mom said carefully. “You do that. But be home no later than nine-thirty. You’re working tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said hurriedly, wanting only to get out of there fast. “I’ll be back by nine—and I’ll check out those fish, Barry. We can go tomorrow, like I said, okay?”

  I ran upstairs to my bedroom. I had an idea. I reached into one of Pop’s old tackle boxes, where I kept his good watch and all my other special stuff, including my money, counted out ninety dollars, and put it in my pocket. Ninety dollars. Forty-five for me, and forty-five for Jeff. It was the money we’d gotten from Donny, and I planned to give it back.

  Then I grabbed a rod for show and looked around for a flashlight. The only one I could find was a heavy-duty waterproof torch Pop and I used to use in the boat, so I took it and threw it into my bike basket. Calling goodbye to Mom and Barry, I hit the road.

  I checked out Donny’s house first, and his mother told me he hadn’t come home for dinner. Not only that, but she said the police had been there looking for him, too. She looked pretty frazzled, and I felt sorry for her. I could tell she didn’t know whether to be angry or worried or both. I promised that if I found him, I’d tell him to come home, and left.

  I knew what I was doing was stupid. Donny could be anywhere, even way down-island. He could have left the island on the ferry or on somebody’s boat, especially if he knew the police were looking for him. Still, I cruised around looking for the Tomahawk, checking the parking lots at the cliffs and at West Basin. Posters with Cameron Maddox’s picture still fluttered from almost every telephone pole, and I tried not to look at them.

  I was riding down from the cliffs along the Moshup Trail, heading to the Philbin Beach lot, when I spotted a gleam of silver in the middle of the dense scrubby trees, beach grass, and poison ivy that lined the road. I circled back, and there was the Tomahawk, pulled off the road and nearly invisible in the underbrush. If I’d been in a car or if I’d looked the other way for just a second, I’d never have seen it.

  I stopped for a minute to think. It stood to reason that Donny was somewhere close by. He might be at somebody’s house, but I couldn’t imagine whose. There were no homes on the beach side of the road, where Donny’s car was. The ones on the other side of the road were pretty far away, and were in all likelihood rented for the summer to tourists. That left the beach.

  Donny really must have wanted not to be found. There was no way he could have gotten out of the Tomahawk and down to the beach without getting all scratched up, with a good case of poison ivy, as well. I sure wasn’t going to follow that route.

  I raced down the road about a half mile to the Philbin lot, and chained my bike to the rack. I didn’t really need the rod, so I hid it in the bushes, but I took the flashlight with me. The parking area was deep in shadow. I checked my watch. It was already 8:30! It would be dark soon, and Mom would be waiting for me. I ran up the wooden boardwalks that made a path through the dunes and out onto the beach.

  My plan was to work my way back toward where Donny had left his car, then continue in the direction of the cliffs and Devil’s Bridge, until I found him. I kept running, scanning the narrow beach for any sign of Donny. There were a few couples sitting around a fire, and farther on I passed a woman stretched out on a blanket, doing some kind of weird exercises.

  Tourist, I thought scornfully. Then I caught myself. Okay, so some tourists were strange and some, like Brad and Nicki, were real jerks. So what? Donny was an islander—what about him? Was he supposed to be my friend, no matter what, just because he was one of us? I knew better now.

  As I walked, I planned what I was going to say if and when I did find Donny. I figured there was only one way out. I had to come clean, to tell Chief Widdiss everything. And I wanted to give Donny the chance to come with me. Not because he was an islander, certainly not because I was awed by his coolness, which I wasn’t anymore. Maybe because I’d known him my whole life and had been grateful to him more than once. It was possible that Donny had gotten sucked into trouble the same way I had, little by little, and that he wanted to get out, too, and didn’t know how to do it.

  Anyway, dumb as it sounded, that was my plan.

  The sun was close to the horizon, with that squashed look it gets right before it sets for good. I had a couple more minutes of daylight left, and there was still no sign of Donny. I kept moving, past Devil’s Bridge and up around the headland of Aquinnah, where the beach was a thin rocky strip between the ocean and the steep clay cliffs.

  The tide was high: I couldn’t go any farther without going swimming, and unless Donny had come much earlier than I, he hadn’t gone any farther, either. I stood panting, ready to scream with frustration. Had I reasoned wrong? Where else could Donny be?

  It struck me all at once: the cave. As far as I knew, Donny was the only person who knew about it besides Jeff and me. If he wanted to hide, I couldn’t think of a better place.

  Twenty

  Even in the gathering darkness, I had no trouble making my way up the cliffs to the cave. The climb was as familiar to me as the crash and hiss of the waves and the taste of the salt on my lips. I turned sideways to slide in the narrow opening and said, “Donny, it’s me.”

  My words echoed eerily back to me, followed by a deep silence. I felt the first stirrings of doubt. Could I have been wrong? What, after all, had made me so sure Donny would be here?

  But then a low whisper came from the depths of the cave. “Daggett?”

  To my surprise, my own voice sounded clear and strong. “Yeah, it’s me. I thought you might be here.”

  I didn’t turn on the flashlight, even though I couldn’t see Donny in the back of the cave. I was remembering something Pop had told me about cornered animals. He said you didn’t want to stare directly at them, or crowd them, or make any sudden moves. You had to let them get used to you, and let them know you meant them no harm. It occurred to me that Donny probably felt just like a cornered animal, especially if he knew that Ray and the cops were looking for him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Looking for you,” I said. “What are you doing?”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Good question.”

  I had to get on with what I’d come for, quickly, and get home. “Listen, Donny.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I opened the envelope today and saw the dope. And I ran into Ray, and he’s looking for you. And so are the cops, I think.” I was talking really fast, trying to get it all out at once. “And, anyway, I don’t want to do deliveries anymore, and neither does Jeff.”

  I didn’t actually know that for sure, but I thought it was a pretty good guess.

  “So, here.” I reached into my pocket and took out the money I’d brought. “That’s ninety dollars. Forty-five for me and forty-five for Jeff. It’s what you’ve paid us so far. We’re out.”

  Donny laughed again, bitterly. “You think it’s that easy, Daggett? Just give back the money and you’re out?”

  “Yeah,” I said uncertainly. “Why not?”

  Donny made a strangled sound somewhere between a cry and a moan. “Oh, man,” he said.

  Now that my eyes were becoming used to the darkness, I could see him put his head in his hands and shake it back and forth.

  “This is all so screwed up!” His voice rose in anger or despair, I couldn’t tell which. “It’s just a matter of time, anyway.”


  “Until what?”

  “Until I get busted. Until we all get busted. And maybe even charged with murder.” Donny broke off with something that sounded like a sob.

  This sure wasn’t the tough-talking Donny who’d taken me to the fireworks and bragged about getting some of his own back. This was a kid who was just as scared as I was.

  “Murder? You mean Cameron Maddox?”

  “That stupid jerk! I wish he’d never come here.”

  “But you didn’t…” I didn’t really want to ask, didn’t want to know.

  “Kill him? No!”

  “Then why would you get blamed for it?”

  He didn’t answer, but asked instead, “You said you met Ray?”

  “Yeah. He was at your house.”

  “Well, Ray’s the one who’s in charge of our little business. I guess you already figured that out. Maddox came to the island with a couple pounds of dope to sell to Ray. Except after the deal was made, Ray discovered that the order was a few ounces short, and he totally flipped out. You don’t want to be around Ray when he’s mad, I can tell you. He’s little, but he’s mean. The next day, Maddox was missing.”

  “Then Jeff and I found him—”

  “Dead.”

  “You think Ray—?”

  “I don’t know,” Donny said with a groan. “The whole thing is so messed up. The cops know Maddox was into drugs. I’m pretty sure they know about us, or why do they keep coming around asking questions? How long before they put it all together?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Donny went on. “And the other stuff I did just makes it look worse. Pushing the car in the water was kind of a joke that got out of hand. But if they know I did it, it’ll be easy for them to think I killed him, too, right?”

  “Maybe. But are you sure he was murdered and didn’t just drown? I mean, do the cops know for sure?”

  “From the questions they’re asking, believe me, they suspect something. They even went to Jen’s house. Can you believe it? She broke up with me. I figured her old man made her do it, but she said she didn’t want to hang out with a druggie.” Donny laughed bitterly.

  I took out the flashlight and checked my watch. Nine-fifteen. Mom was already mad.

  Not nearly as mad as she’s going to be, I thought. But I had come to find Donny with my mind made up about what I was going to do, and I didn’t see any reason not to go through with my plan. I turned on the flashlight and shone it on the back wall of the cave until I found the place where Pop’s initials were carved, right near Jeff’s and mine. Seeing the letters JUD, for Jack Ulysses Daggett, gave me courage.

  “Donny, the reason I came to find you is because—” I faltered for a moment. “I’m going to the cops.”

  “You’re what?”

  “Look, Donny, I wanted to warn you first and give you the chance to go with me. I’m sure it’ll be better that way, better than getting caught. I’m going to tell them everything I know and hope—” My voice broke as I thought about getting sent to juvenile reform school. I swallowed and went on. “Hope they won’t be too tough on us.”

  “Ben, you can’t,” Donny said, desperation in his voice. “See, you and Jeff won’t get in too much trouble because you’re minors. That’s why Ray wanted me to hire you guys. But I’m over sixteen, man. I could go to jail.”

  I was still standing close to the cave’s entrance, facing inward toward Donny. A voice came suddenly from behind me. “That’s right, Donny.”

  Startled, I dropped the flashlight. With shaking hands, I fumbled for it in the dark, then tried to hold it steady as I pointed it in the direction of the voice.

  The powerful beam illuminated the scowling face of Ray.

  “And that’s why nobody’s going to the cops,” he said. Then he swore and held a hand up to cover his eyes. “Turn that thing off!” he ordered.

  But I didn’t. I was too shocked to move.

  “I said turn it off!” Ray repeated. Keeping one hand over his eyes to block the light, he reached toward me with the other and shoved me, hard. I fell and landed sprawled on my back on the floor of the cave. Before Ray could do anything else to me, I turned off the flashlight and lay there for a moment, stunned and furious and humiliated.

  As I slowly picked myself up, I could see Ray’s skinny frame silhouetted against the cave’s mouth. Now, I figured, he was blinded by the sudden plunge into darkness.

  “So you want to go crying to the cops, huh?” Ray kept talking into the blackness.

  Warily, I watched his arm move. He was reaching slowly into his shirt and laughing mockingly, saying, “Poor little babies are getting scared, is that it? Well, listen up.”

  But I didn’t want to listen up. And I didn’t want to find out what Ray was reaching for. I felt a rush of power and energy flood through me, fueled by anger at Ray and the need to stop his taunting voice, stop his reaching hand.

  Moving quietly, I took two steps that brought me within reach of Ray, and snapped on the light, shining it full in his face. In the instant that he squinted his eyes shut and raised his hands to cover them, I swung the heavy flashlight and crashed it into his head as hard as I could.

  Ray’s knees buckled, and I felt him going down as the flashlight fell from my hands and went out. He lay in a crumpled heap in the doorway to the cave.

  “Come on, Donny! Quick!” I called. “Before he gets up!”

  Ray moaned, let out a curse, and began trying to struggle to his feet.

  I stepped over him and started running down the cliffs toward the beach, waiting to hear Donny coming along behind me. When I didn’t, I stopped. I could hear sounds of struggle from the cave. Then a figure appeared and began moving toward me. Donny!

  Relieved, I began running again, wanting only to get to my bike, pedal to the police station, call home, and—

  The night was shattered by a piercing blast. At first my mind couldn’t make sense of what I was hearing. Then another blast followed the first, and I knew that what I’d heard was a gun. I knew it, but I couldn’t quite believe it—a gun!

  No! I thought. Wait! No!

  Ray was shooting at us!

  This couldn’t be happening.

  This was crazy.

  “Donny!” I yelled. My voice carried across the cliffs, sounding high and panicky. “Donny! Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” Donny pulled up behind me, panting. “Keep running! Go!”

  I raced along, tripping, falling, tumbling, too panicked to notice or care, thinking only of the gun pointed in my direction, waiting for the crack of the trigger firing, the whistle of the bullet, the feel of it exploding into me, ending everything.

  There was a thunk in the clay ahead of me, then another blast, and a bullet ricocheted off a nearby rock. I wanted to lie down and cover my head, but I knew I had to keep moving.

  I could hear Donny still running right behind me. For all I knew, Ray was right behind him, closing in, waiting to get a clearer shot. My breath was coming in huge, rasping gulps and my legs felt wobbly from fear and fatigue, but I made myself run faster.

  Finally, the steep slope of the cliffs gave way to flat, sandy beach. I ran down closer to the waterline, where I’d get a better foothold in the packed, wet sand, and kept running. I looked back just once and saw, to my relief, that Donny was still right behind me and there was no sign of Ray.

  Did that mean we were safe? I didn’t know. I had no idea of how far a gun could shoot, and no idea where Ray was.

  Facing ahead once more, I thought I caught a glimpse of a light. Then again—yes, it was definitely a light—no, two lights. People were walking toward us, one with a flashlight and another holding a lantern. I heard voices. Probably fishermen. Oh, thank you thank you thank you, I thought. Thank you. But then along with relief came the thought: would Ray just shoot us all?

  I could feel tears running down my face as I ran toward the light, and suddenly the beam was shining in my face and I stopped, gasping, blinded as R
ay had been, and a familiar voice came out of the darkness.

  “Ben?”

  “Mom?”

  “Ben! Thank goodness! Are you all right?”

  I ran straight into Mom’s outstretched arms and was about to let loose the sobs of fear that swelled in my chest. But Ray—and his gun—were still out there somewhere. Where was he? I grabbed the flashlight from Mom’s hands and wheeled around to point it into the darkness.

  Donny stood nearby, his breathing loud and ragged over the sound of the waves. I couldn’t see anyone else, just the dark mounds of the dunes and the smooth sweep of sand stretching away into the areas beyond my torch’s beam. Barry was with Mom, holding the lantern. The four of us stood for a moment, peering about uneasily.

  “Shut off the lantern,” I said to Barry as I turned off the flashlight. Ray might be close, and we didn’t have to make targets of ourselves.

  “Ben, what’s going on?” Mom’s voice held an edge of terror. “I thought I heard gunshots.”

  “I’ll tell you later, Mom,” I said. “But right now, we’ve got to go. Come on, hurry.”

  I wasn’t used to giving orders and having people follow them, but there must have been something in my voice that made Mom and Barry understand that their questions had to wait. We raced the rest of the way up the beach, each of us stopping from time to time to look back. Mom and Barry didn’t know what they were looking for, but Donny and I did, and that made our steps even quicker.

  In the parking lot, we climbed into Barry’s car, and he and Mom turned to me. “For heaven’s sake, Ben. What’s going on?”

  I took a deep breath and replied, “Can we go right to the police station? I’ll tell you everything there.”

  Twenty-one

  At the station, Jeff’s Uncle Cully was the desk sergeant on duty. As soon as he heard we’d been shot at, he called Chief Widdiss, who arrived within minutes. The chief made some calls, including one to Donny’s mother, who showed up shortly afterward looking shaken and angry. He called the Mannings, too, and Jeff came with his parents. I could tell from Jeff’s face that he was really scared.