The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.)

by Marnie Perry

  After an hour or so she seemed to relax, although she was still sweating and shivering she had stopped trying to throw the covers off; maybe she had exhausted herself with all the tossing and turning. He moved from the bed and sat in the armchair watching her closely.

  He had not slept in more than 24 hours and it looked like he would not be sleeping for quite some time, but the strange thing was he no longer felt tired, he felt wide awake.

  His head shot up as she began to speak thinking she was awake, but as he leaned over to get a better look at her face he realised she was talking in her sleep, or in her delirium. She was mumbling so he couldn’t catch what she was saying, he leaned closer and heard her say, ‘Dean, oh Dean. No, stop, don’t. Leave him alone. DEAN.’

  The name was shouted out and Dante ran to the door and stood looking nervously at the bed. She kept talking her tone softer now, ‘Sterling, Sterling,’ she gave a little laugh then coughed. Lando stood up and picked up the glass of water from the bedside table and put it to her lips. She drank some but then spat most of it back out. Then her tone no longer soft but scared sounding said, ‘where are we?’

  At first Lando thought she was talking to him, but quickly realised she was still dreaming. She said, ‘I won’t tell you, I won’t. You’re a liar, a killer, a liar.’ Lando’s eyes opened wide as he looked at her. She was agitated again now, moving about trying to throw off the bedclothes but this time he did not attempt to stop her. She mumbled, ‘I don’t know, I can’t tell you, I won’t tell you, I won’t, I won’t.’ She kicked at the bedclothes and her body heaved up and down as she yelled, ‘I won’t let you hurt her, I won’t, Olivia, Olivia, OLIVIA.’ This last word she screamed out in fear.

  Then she seemed to relax again as she said softly, ‘I’ll never tell, Olivia, I swear.’ Then her face contorted into a sneer as she said, ‘you’ll never find her, never.’ Then she laughed then began to cough again, he held the glass to her lips and she drank then was quiet.

  He sat down and hissed out a breath. Sterling, Sterling Hennessey, the guy Taylor had told him about. But she had spoken his name with affection just before she had become agitated, who had she been dreaming about then? Hennessey? Or someone else. Olivia of course must be the girl he had seen her with, he had recalled her starting to say Ol…then stopped herself. But who the hell was Dean? Was he the one she would not tell her secret too? The one she was running from? No, he didn’t think so somehow, she had sounded concerned about him.

  Every so often she would mutter something but the words were unintelligible. He knew now of course what had happened. She had become involved with that young girl who was obviously on the run from someone, the law maybe. Maybe she was in witness protection testifying against some criminal, a one time lover perhaps, she certainly looked the type to be involved with nefarious people.

  But Miss. Faraday had gotten herself involved with something beyond her control, someone wanted the girl and woe betide anyone who got in their way, and the English woman had gotten in their way. The girl had not been with her in Eden or Sheriff Taylor would have mentioned her, so she must have escaped her pursuers, with the English woman’s help. And what about those two phoney P.I.’s? Had they been the ones to abduct her and maybe hurt or killed this Dean when he had tried to intervene? That left Hennessey, where did he come in?

  He blew out a frustrated breath. Fuck, but he had not wanted this; he had not wanted to get involved with this woman and her wayward friend. He had done his part, he had lied and deceived for her, spent precious money on her, even gone into town to be stared and pointed at. All he wanted was to be left alone with his animals; to live the rest of his life away from people, from civilisation…if that was what you could call it…from the needs of others, from their selfishness, from their demands, from their betrayal. But she had come here and thrust him back into it again. But then if he was being fair she hadn’t asked him to become involved, she hadn’t asked him check up on her, she hadn’t asked him to call Dan Rivers or the estate agent or Sheriff Taylor, and she had probably only stumbled upon his place by sheer accident.

  He looked at her face again, she was mumbling incoherently now.

  He leapt to his feet and paced up and down stopping every so often to look down at her sleeping figure, thinking, damn you woman, why couldn’t you have just gone home? Why couldn’t you have just gone to another country until whoever it is that wants you gives up or until whoever is hunting you got bored and moved onto another job? But he knew that would not happen. He thought he had left his old life behind, chasing down criminals and putting them away where they couldn’t hurt anyone else, being spat at, cursed at, shot at, that was all in the past, this was the life he wanted now, this new life, he wanted no part of the old, he wasn’t that man any more. But even as he thought it he realised that this had nothing to do with being a cop or with the kind of man he was and everything to do with being a human being.

  It had been a long time since he had thought like a cop, a long time since he had had to use his deductive and investigative skills; the only deducing he did now was working out how much animal feed he could afford to buy, and his investigating skills were reduced to tracking down traps in the woods. But, although he hated to admit it, he felt somehow exhilarated, tense and watchful yes, yet stimulated and excited as he had not been for a very long time.

  This was how he saw it. His instincts had been dead right, the guy he had confronted in her cabin had been no realtor; he had been looking for her, for both the young kid and the English woman.

  If he had to take a guess he’d say the guy in the cabin and this Sterling Hennessey were one and the same man. He had been hired to track her down to Eden, once there he had befriended her in an attempt to extract information concerning this Olivia girl from her, hoping that she would be so infatuated with him…and from what Taylor had said she had been… that she would confide in him. Then when that hadn’t succeeded he had resorted to abduction, but she had somehow managed to escape and make her way here, which meant that he must have brought her here, back to Alabama, but why? Unless this was where the client was and Hennessey was bringing her to him.

  He looked at the shivering woman and couldn’t suppress a shudder of his own. He rubbed his hands up and down his face then looked at her again. She was still now but there was a frown on her face as though she was having a confusing dream. He knew he was right, he felt it in his gut. If he were truthful with himself, and he always tried to be, he had known from the start that something very serious was happening, but he had been too stubborn, too resentful, too bull headed to do anything about it.

  He told himself that making phone calls and enquiries would be enough, that he had done everything he could, but he had known it wouldn’t be and he had been right about that too. As he knew that now this woman would never be safe, that she was in trouble, big trouble, if that guy was looking for her. He had met men like that before, men with no conscience, men with no moral fibre, men who would do anything for money. Killers.

  He had known that guy would find her, he was that type, the type who never gave up, it was a matter of honour with men like that to finish a job, no matter what the consequences.

  He had known that guy in her cabin was dangerous. Just as he had known that her meeting a good looking single man in Eden was too big a coincidence to be kosher yet he had sat back and done nothing while she had been subjected to a horrifying ordeal. And he knew the guy would come for her again.

  He sat down abruptly, ashamed of himself; this woman had put herself on the line for someone else, she had risked her life for another and she had come to him for help, either purposely or unknowingly, and he could not turn his back on her now.

  Lando went to the window and peeped through the curtains, he saw and heard nothing but that didn’t mean there was nothing to see or hear. He sat back down in the armchair and stroked Dante’s head saying, ‘I think we’re in trouble, Dante old pal.’ Dante whined and Lando gripped his rifle tight
ly and closed his eyes. He needed a plan.

  CHAPTER 34.

  Lando had gone outside with the first light to feed his animals when the woman's fever had reduced and she was resting more peacefully. He had locked the cabin door and told Dante to keep watch over her and to let him know if anyone tried to enter or if she tried to leave. The latter was unlikely but better to be safe than sorry. Dante was a nervous, timid mutt and would probably run a mile from confrontation, but his bark could wake the dead.

  Before feeding the animals he had checked in on Josie and her foal and found them both doing well. He had fed Josie and fussed over them both before making his way to the outhouse where the other animals greeted him enthusiastically, too enthusiastically. They swarmed around him as if pleased to see him but also disappointed in him for leaving them so long, the fox had even bitten him, talk about biting the hand that feeds you.

  He did most everything he would normally have done in case anyone was spying on him, it would look odd if he stayed indoors all day, but all the time he was getting on with his morning chores he was also very alert and watchful for any unusual sounds, he heard nothing.

  He made his way back to the cabin, surreptitiously scanning the trees and surrounding area, if anyone was spying on him he didn’t want them to know he was being vigilant, that would make them suspicious, but there seemed nothing out of the ordinary. He unlocked the cabin door and almost fell over Dante who was standing right behind it; the dog looked at him a worried expression on his face. Lando was immediately alert and went straight to the bedroom but pulled up sharply as he found himself staring into a pair of huge green eyes, eyes that widened in panic and fear at the sight of him. He held out his hand in a placating gesture and took a step forward saying, ‘it’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you, you’re quite safe.’

  She continued to stare at him with dread. He took another step and she backed up so that she was pressed against the headboard the blanket held up to her chin, her eyes fixed on the rifle he held. He followed her gaze then put the rifle down on the dresser and tried to make his tone soft and pacifying as he said, ‘you remember me don’t you? Jonas Lando.’

  Still she just stared at him then her eyes went swiftly around the room before coming back to him. He said, ‘you’ve been ill, but you seem to be a little better now.’

  Still she said nothing and he was getting impatient, after all she had come to him in the middle of the night no less, and now she was looking at him as though he was responsible for everything that had happened to her.

  His tone returned to it’s usual brusqueness as he snapped, ‘you arrived here last night looking like you’d lived in the swamp for months and passed out right at my feet. So don’t look at me as though I’m the bad guy here, lady.’

  She looked shocked and her mouth gaped open. He watched her face as the memories started to come back to her and as they did she looked quickly towards the window as if expecting to see her pursuer standing there. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ he said more gently, no one will get in here.’

  She looked back at him then once more her eyes went to the rifle then back at him. ‘What,’ she coughed, ‘happened?’

  He scowled and said abruptly, ‘I was hoping you could tell me that. But first we’ll have something to eat.’ He nodded at the bedside table there’s water and some painkillers there, you’ll probably need both.’ He turned to leave the room then turned back, ‘the bathrooms through there,’ he nodded his head towards the communicating door, ‘but as much as you might be tempted, don’t try to take a shower, you’re not strong enough yet. And leave the door open in case you feel unwell, I don’t want to have to break it down.’

  She didn’t answer and he stared at her for a moment before picking up his rifle and exiting the room leaving the door open, after a few seconds of looking at her his head on one side, Dante followed him.

  Adela sat where she was for a few minutes staring at the open door asking herself what had happened. How had she got here? And why here? She remembered of course everything that had happened with Sterling Hennessey and how she had escaped and being in the swamp, after that everything was a jumble of disjointed images and fragmented memories.

  When she had woken she had been disoriented and the first thing she had seen was the dog staring at her. Her first thought had been that she was back in the woods and he was a scavenger come to feed on her carcass and she had cried out, but then the dog had given a little whimper and ran away obviously more frightened than she was, if that was possible. At first she had thought that Hennessey had recaptured her and brought her here but then realised that was nonsense, if he had she would have been tied up, and anyway Hennessey didn’t have a dog. She vaguely recalled Hennessey saying “Hammer” but in fact must have said Alabama.

  She had tried to rise but her head swam and she fell back down, her whole body ached as though she had been exercising for day’s non stop, but her arm was the worst, she had looked at it and saw that it was bandaged Then she had looked down at the bed and slowly lifted the cover and found that she was wearing something she knew she did not own, a man’s shirt. She had pulled back the blanket and looked at her feet, she was wearing a pair of man’s socks and like the shirt they were at least four sizes too big for her. She lowered one sock and looked at her feet, they had been cleaned and bandaged, in fact she could smell antiseptic very strongly in the room.

  Then he had come into the room carrying a rifle and scared her half to death. But he had spoken quite gently to her, at first anyway, but she noticed the moment the mask had come down over his features and had seen he was annoyed by her reaction. But strangely enough it was the annoyance in his face and the harshness in his voice that had penetrated her confused and frightened mind more than any amount of soothing words could have done. Anyway, if he had meant her harm he would have done it before now.

  But she could not remember falling at his feet; she could not even recall getting here in the first place.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and a wave of dizziness swept over her again. She gave a small moan which she tried to suppress; she didn’t want Jonas Lando to come back in here. That made her think again about where she was, in his cabin, in his bedroom, in his bed. The thought frightened yet intrigued her.

  She looked at the bottle of water on the bedside table and drank some greedily then picked up the pills he had mentioned. Maybe she shouldn’t take them; maybe they were some kind of tranquilliser, the date rape drug perhaps. But why would he want to put her out like that? He could just knock her out or overpower her; anyway, he could have taken advantage of her whilst she was unconscious. She picked up the pills and swallowed them with the water. As she put the bottle back on the table she saw her hairclips, she picked them up then took a deep breath and very tentatively put her feet to the floor trying to ride out the dizziness. After a few moments it passed and she rose to her feet, the shirt dropped down almost to her knees, well if it was his it would be huge on her he being so much taller than she was. She very slowly, not to say very painfully, made her way to the bathroom. Once there she looked around and was surprised at how neat and clean it was as was the bedroom, it was such a contrast from the outside and also from the owner himself. She used the toilet hoping and praying she would not get dizzy again and pass out, that would just about use up her humiliation quota for the rest of her life.

  As she washed her hands and wrists and forearms she noticed the cuts and grazes that almost covered the skin.

  She saw a small mirror above the sink and although she didn’t want to she could not resist looking into it. She closed her eyes then opened them quickly and what she saw made her gasp and step back in shock.. Her face had so many cuts she couldn’t even begin to count. Her hair was filthy and covered in something green and slimey, it had had been tied back, he must have done that, but long tendrils escaped from its binding and hung down her face.

  Well, as awful as she looked now at least she was al
ive. As Lando had foreseen she was very tempted by the shower, she recalled what he had said about looking like she had lived in the swamp for months, but she also remembered what he had said about her not being strong enough yet, he was right.

  But she couldn’t resist washing her face and neck and chest and felt the stinging of her skin was a small price to pay to feel somewhat refreshed.

  She was just pinning up her hair as best she could with the few clips she had left and the ache in her arm, when she almost jumped out of her skin as a knock came on the door. She stared at it as though she had never seen one before but heaved a sigh of relief as Lando’s voice came to her. ‘Miss? Are you okay in there?’

  Her heart still beating very fast she swallowed nervously and stammered, ‘y…yes, yes thank you, Mr. Lando.’

  There was a short silence before he spoke again, ‘here’s something clean for you to wear.’ His hand suddenly appeared in the open doorway holding a plaid shirt, much the same as they one she wore now and that he himself had worn every time she had ever encountered him, including today, maybe he bought them in bulk. Then she was ashamed of herself for thinking this. She had heard that he had no money, that this house was all he had in the world, the house and the outbuildings; she had no right to make fun of him.

  She hadn’t realised she had not taken the shirt from him until he said impatiently, ‘much as I like standing in doorways, lady, I do have other things to do.’