by Mike Cranny
She laughed.
“That’s not the way it’s going to be. I’ll be with you the whole way.”
He nodded, said, “Okay.” He promised he would do what she wanted. Then he decided that he had nothing to lose by asking for the gun back. She hesitated but then she walked it over to him, reversed the butt and put it into his hand. He let her kiss him on the lips and take his hand. Together, they walked down to meet a surprised Pete and Walter. Archie turned to Streya.
“I have to go talk to them. I won’t leave you behind.”
“I know. I trust you.”
She turned away from him, sat down on the ground looking back towards New Jerusalem. Archie walked along the dock to where the Cherish was now moored, and to Pete and Walter. Pete waited until Archie was close before he spoke.
“What the fuck, Archie?”
Pete was angry and he wasn’t trying to hide the fact. Walter just shook his head in disbelief.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ve got to get off this island and find Patsy. Streya’s necessary for that. It’s not ideal, I grant you.”
“Not ideal is putting it mildly.”
“Look, Pete. I need your help. Are you going to help me or not?”
Pete screwed up his face.
“Of course — whatever you need, you’ve got.”
“Streya has to come along.”
Walter looked at Pete and laughed.
“Next time he comes to the Long House, let’s pretend we’re not around.”
“You talked me into it,” Pete replied. To Archie, he said. “You and your spooky lady friend better get aboard before I come to my senses.”
Archie called to Streya, now looking forlorn and distracted. She rose and walked to the boat, her hands jammed into her pockets. She had tears in her eyes.
CHAPTER 41
Patsy Kydd tucked up her legs, pulled herself into a new position and made herself as comfortable as space permitted. She was tied and gagged, squeezed into the tiny space under the forecastle where Emile Pared had put her. Some light came through the edges around the locked cuddy-cabin doors. That helped a little — at least she wasn’t in total darkness. She could feel the muffled throb of the engines of the boat through the floorboards.
After her capture, she’d been scared but the fear had passed. Now she was just mad, at Stone, at Pared, at herself for being stupid. She had no idea where the other Children were. She worried about what they might have done to Archie and vowed to herself that she would somehow get free and find him. Pared had surprised her; she wasn’t even sure who he was until he told her. He was obviously in charge. At intervals, she heard Lisa Wainright’s voice in the pilothouse above her and guessed that she was driving the boat. That surprised her.
Her thoughts turned again to Archie, wondered where he was, wondering if he’d escaped from Chad Reddin, wondering if he was safe and unhurt. Somehow she sensed that he was okay. Maybe he was even now searching for her. The thought gave her hope.
Eventually, the boat slowed. She felt it bump into something and then the engine noise and vibration stopped and all was quiet. After a little time had passed, she heard the sounds of cargo being unloaded and then nothing. She realized that she was alone on the boat, with only the sounds of water and the hollow thump of the hull hitting the dock to keep her company, and wondered if there might be some way she could escape. She hadn’t eaten for hours and she was fiercely thirsty. She mumbled some spit into her mouth and tried to turn her thoughts away from food and fear.
After some time had passed, someone unlatched the doors to her prison. Emile Pared grinned at her. Outside it had grown dark. He hauled her out, pulled her gag off, gave her water from a plastic bottle. She gagged and water spilled down her shirtfront.
“You look rough,” Pared said. “Lucky I didn’t forget you.”
Patsy glared at him, mumbled a swear word. He grinned at her, held the water up in front of her.
“If you want to be treated right, you have to be a good girl.”
He cut the ropes binding her legs and pulled her to her feet.
“No time to play now. I have things to do.”
She stood up slowly, defiantly, her legs stiff and uncooperative.
“I’m not going with you,” she said.
“You think you have a choice?”
He put his face a few inches from hers, put a powerful hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Patsy winced in pain, twisted against his crushing grasp.
“I’ll keep pressing until I bust up all the muscle in your shoulder,” he said. “You’ll never be able to use your arm again. Is that what you want?”
The pain from his grip was unbearable, a practiced unrelenting pressure on the nerve. She had tears in her eyes from it. She shook her head.
“No, it’s not what I want,” she said. “I’ll come along with you. I don’t want to stay in this cabin anyway.”
“You are going to be a good girl after all. That’s good.”
He took his hand off Patsy’s shoulder slowly and pointed to the way out.
“You go ahead of me.”
He pushed her up the steps and out onto the deck. She saw that the boat was moored to a dock in a small cove; an old farmhouse stood nearby, fronted by overgrown fields.
“What is this place?”
“A farm — a property owned by my father, a place I use from time to time,” Pared said.
Patsy turned to face him.
“Is Lisa Wainright the leader? She was driving the boat.”
Pared laughed.
“My sister? We’re equals — in theory. But I run things. I sent the others away for awhile, so you and I could be alone.”
He looked at her intently and she shivered involuntarily. For a moment, she felt close to panic. Pared seemed to enjoy frightening her.
“Don’t worry — nothing’s going to happen right now because the planets have to be in the right place for certain things. You’ve got a few days yet.”
He frog-marched her up to the house and then to a side door into the basement. He pushed her inside. In the innermost room, he used a leg iron and chain to secure her to a post. Then he cut the ropes off her arms and left her alone. She rubbed the circulation back into her limbs, sat herself up. When she saw the plastic sheeting hanging everywhere, and guessed what it was for, she almost panicked. She struggled against the chain but the metal bit hard into her flesh and drew blood. Half an hour or so later, Pared returned with food and water in plastic containers. An hour or so after that, he came back for the dishes. Roughly, he bound and gagged her again before he turned off the light and left her alone in the dark.
CHAPTER 42
Archie sat at the cabin table. Streya sat across from him and watched everything he did. The tears were gone and now her eyes were like those of a very young girl, innocent and curious. She seemed to want to act something out, to pretend that she and Archie were on an outing together, like in the old days. She talked about inconsequential things. The light tone of her conversation unnerved Archie more than anything else that had happened. She watched Walter and Pete bicker.
“Do they always talk to each other like that?” she asked.
Archie didn’t bother lowering his voice.
“It’s been like this since we were kids. Now they’re like a couple of old ravens arguing over a dead fish.”
Pete looked back over his shoulder, played along.
“Both of us had our hands full trying to keep Archie out of trouble.”
Walter laughed — a short, powerful exhalation that sounded like “hoh” that summarized his agreement.
“This is a Harbercraft we’re looking for, isn’t it?” Pete asked.
“Yes. It may already be at the farm,” Streya said. “Can’t you tell from the radar?”
She stood, made her way over the heaving floor to stand beside Pete. Every time she saw a blip on the radar, she asked if it was her brother’s boat.
“There are way to
o many boats out in the Strait.” Pete said. “There’s no way you could tell one from the other on the basis of a radar contact.”
She shrugged and sat back down, stared out the window into the grey; Archie knew that her mood had shifted again. They ran on until they were close to where Streya said the farm was located. Suddenly, a handheld warning horn sounded close by on the water. A boat was following them, trying to catch up. Walter eased up on the throttle.
“They’re trying to signal,” Pete said. “I’d better throttle down.”
Streya stood up abruptly, her hands made into fists.
“No, no, no, no — we can’t stop now,” she said.
Walter looked to Archie, who nodded. Walter shrugged, held position, nudging throttle and wheel at intervals.
The horn sounded again in the mist, closer this time. They heard the outboard motor of a small boat as it came speeding towards them, off to starboard. Archie and Pete went out on deck. They watched as the boat came up. Archie had the SIG Sauer ready in his hand.
The runabout had a big motor, which was why it had caught them so easily. John Robbie was at the helm. Archie grabbed the painter Robbie threw to him and made it fast. Moments later, Robbie was aboard. Archie covered him with the SIG Sauer, spun the little man around and pulled a cheap-looking pistol out of his belt. He passed it to Pete. Robbie asked if they’d caught Pared and the others. Archie answered in the negative.
“Not yet. Plus you’re under arrest.”
Robbie shook his head.
“For what?”
“For Bonnie Tran’s murder, or Nick Donaldson’s — or both. And then there’s what happened back in the cave.”
“I never ever killed nobody except in self-defence. Nick found the Eli coins and told me. He’d been helping Tran with dope and other stuff and then he found the place where Brother Eli had scuttled his yacht years ago. He started to put things together, collected information, tried to do a little blackmail. I figured he was playing with fire and told him so. The night he died I went back to his shop to have it out with him, saw his body and freaked. I turned him over, got blood all over me, cleaned up as best I could and then I ran like hell. I abandoned my truck and trailer even. Then, Bonnie died. I saw what had happened to her and had to figure out what to do.”
“That was you on the dirt bike in the rain, wasn’t it? Why did you run?”
“You know why, Archie. I had no chance. I had to take off.”
“You should have come to me.”
“Maybe — look, I cared about her, Archie. I knew it was the Children that done it so I figured Lars would help me get close enough to get them. I figured wrong. I had to go to Tran for safety and then got dragged along on his stupid attack. I saw them get killed in the caves. You know that Emile killed Bonnie and the others. After what happened, I escaped. I used Tran’s boat and came after you.”
“Why did you do that? You ran from me before, John. You steal my car, escape custody and now you show up out of nowhere after all that’s happened and you want me to be cool about it?”
“Sorry about that but I want Pared same as you. I got to see him dead for what he done to Bonnie.”
“You’re still under arrest.”
“So, I’m under arrest. I’m coming with you though.”
Streya came out on the deck. She looked confused again. She saw John Robbie and said, “I don’t like him.” He looked at her, obviously surprised to see her there.
She screamed something at him in Finn — repeating Emile’s name three or four times. Archie went to her and tried to calm her. She seemed to like the closeness of him and switched to English. The important thing, she said, was that Emile would rape and kill Patsy Kydd and that Archie wouldn’t want her after that. Then she told Archie not to let John Robbie or anybody else divert him from his purpose.
She looked up at him and tears started in her eyes again. He began to guess what Pared had done to her. He felt a deep pity for her and put his arms around her and told her softly that they would do as she asked. Then he guided her back into the cabin. When he had settled her in the bunk, he came back into the pilothouse.
“Let’s go.”
Pete, who had taken the tiller, said, “Aye, Aye, Captain,” slapped the wheel over and pulled back on the throttles. They were getting close. Walter already had the twelve gauge out. He ratcheted a shell into the chamber, waved Robbie to a seat with the barrel. Cherish picked up speed, running on through the mist towards the headlands marking the location of the farm, which was now less than a mile away.
Pete brought Cherish into the first of two small bays at the edge of the property. He idled the engine and let his boat drift on the brow of the tide past the rocky point. The dock with the Harbercraft moored to it was just visible behind a low broom-covered bluff. Archie was on deck, looking, without success, for the farmhouse, maybe a quarter of a mile away. He asked Streya about the house.
“You can’t see it from the sea anymore. The trees have grown up too much. It’s a copy of the Presbytery on Cat’s Cradle Island. The layout is much the same as the one at New Jerusalem. Emile doesn’t use the main floors much; he uses the basement for his amusements.”
She emphasized the word “amusements” and her eyes grew troubled. Archie wanted to ask her more but hesitated. Pete had brought Cherish into the bay and eased up to the moorage, just behind the Harbercraft. Walter, armed with the Remington, jumped down onto the dock and tied the gill-netter off. Archie stepped over the side rail onto the damp wood of the float and then, pistol ready, he almost ran to the other craft. He jumped the rail and went inside. Finding no one board, he returned to Cherish to plan his next move. John Robbie, out on deck and obviously ready to go, looked his question at Archie. Because, Archie didn’t want to give Pete and Walter the responsibility of holding him, Archie gave his okay. Robbie jumped down onto the float and stood beside him.
Before he went looking, Archie asked Pete to take the boat away from the moorage, out to the bay where it couldn’t be seen from shore. He also asked his friends to radio Cal Fricke for help. At first they protested, insisting that they’d be better off backing him up but Archie persisted. If something happened to him, he said, somebody would have to rescue Patsy and bring in more help.
“Alright,” Pete said. “We’ll do it your way.”
Archie planned to watch Robbie closely but that didn’t happen. When Archie turned to look to Streya, Robbie jumped off the side of the wharf and dashed into a thicket of alders. Before Archie could stop him, he had disappeared from view. Archie swore, shook his head. Robbie on the loose was a complication he didn’t need. Head down, he started up towards the farmhouse with Streya half-running alongside him. She caught his irritation, grabbed his arm and slowed his pace.
“We don’t want him helping anyway.”
“That’s not the point.”
She made some odd signs with her hands. Then she led him up into an overgrown orchard some distance from where the house ought to be. He wondered why they weren’t going directly and asked her.
“It’s best not to go that way,” she said.
She continued on through the orchard, made a wide circuit through an abandoned garden and brought him to some outbuildings. The night had been dark but now moonlight again illuminated the gravel road out of the property. Archie saw the shape of the house. A pickup truck was parked close by.
Archie turned to ask Streya about it but, suddenly, she was no longer with him. He didn’t go looking for her — no point now. Expecting a trap, he moved through the shadows of the outbuildings. He unholstered the SIG and made sure that there was a bullet into the chamber.
The house was quiet, a dark mass against a moon-lit sky. As he crept closer, he heard a sound off to his right. He turned to see a man and a woman walking down the road. They started arguing and he recognized the voices of Lisa Wainright and Wes Means. They didn’t seem to see him standing there.
“I’m trying my best to follow orders,” Means sa
id. “I don’t like the way Emile is acting.”
“He just wants to make sure Stevens is dead. That’s why we’re waiting. You should have stayed at New Jerusalem.”
“We were chasing some fishermen. I’m still feeling that gunshot wound I got at Donaldson’s, so I’m slower than usual. They picked up somebody and took off in a boat. What was I supposed to do? Then I had to get rid of Troy. I dumped the body in the usual place.”
“Anyway — Emile told you to wait. You should have waited.”
“I wasn’t going to stay just because Chad was late. He can handle himself.”
They came within a few feet of Archie. He stepped out of the shadow and aimed his pistol at Mean’s head.
“That’s far enough.”
Lisa, startled, slapped her brother hard across the chest and swore at him. Means cringed. Even in the semi-darkness, Archie could see the fierce look of abrogation on Lisa’s toad-like face.
“It’d be better if you put that gun to your own head and pulled the trigger,” she said. “Emile will make you wish you’d never been born.”
“Both of you — lie face down on the ground,” Archie said.
They hesitated. He wasn’t sure how he was going to immobilize them and keep them quiet. He might have been able to use Robbie’s help after all. He aimed the pistol at the bridge of Mean’s nose.
“I’d just as soon shoot the both of you — I’m that pissed off.”
They grumbled and argued, went down to their knees. Lisa cursed, told Archie again that he was going to regret what he was doing. Then, suddenly, she stopped talking. Archie read the meaning in that but reacted too late. He turned at a touch. Pared held a short, black H&K automatic rifle; he jammed the barrel into Archie’s ribs.
“So nice to see you again, Detective. Stand away. And get up the pair of you,” Pared said.
“I told you, Stevens — I pity you,” Lisa said.
She almost jumped up off the ground; her brother picked himself up more slowly. Archie, sensing some confusion, tried to turn, to get better position. The swinging barrel of the gun caught him across the chin, causing his teeth to slam together. He reeled and almost fell. Pared brought the barrel of the H&K down hard on his wrist and knocked his pistol out of his hand. Archie moved his jaws to try to ease them; his fingers were numb from the blow to his wrist. He turned to face Pared.
