Orchid Beach hb-1

by Stuart Woods

  Holly was now wearing nothing but her open shirt and the handcuffs. She struggled, but now he was rubbing his penis around her face, trying to force open her mouth. Holly looked over his shoulder at Daisy. Something had happened. She still had her head out the window, struggling to get her body through the narrow gap. But the window had gone down maybe an inch. In her frenzy, Daisy had somehow put a paw on the electric window switch. Do it again, Daisy, Holly prayed to the dog.

  “You don’t want it in the mouth, huh?” Mosely said. “Well, we can save that for later, when you don’t have so much fight in you.” He rolled her over onto her stomach, staying astride of her.

  Now she was completely helpless. His weight on her legs kept her from moving them, and she couldn’t get any leverage to attack him with her cuffed hands. Mosely was rubbing his penis up and down her buttocks. He parted them with his hands and was now probing for her anus. Holly gritted her teeth and held her breath, helpless. She could stand this, she thought; she could stand this and live to kill this man.

  Then, suddenly, Mosely screamed and was off her, rolling in the dirt.

  Holly tried to get to her feet. She could see that the car window was open, and Daisy was out. She moved forward on her knees, pressed her forehead against the car door, stood up and turned around. Daisy was on Mosely’s back, and her teeth were buried in the nape of his neck. The dog held on gamely while Mosely tried to get his hands on her throat and hit at her with his fists. He was on his feet, now, trying to swing Daisy against a tree. Holly moved. She ran up to him from behind and, aiming well, kicked him in the balls as hard as she possibly could, throwing herself to the ground in the process.

  Mosely fell down and continued to struggle with Daisy. He tried to get to his feet again, but this time, Holly was in front of him and swung a kick into his solar plexus, sending him down again. Still, he struggled.

  He was going to be too strong for both of them, Holly thought. She looked around for her gun, but he had thrown it away. His gun, still in its holster, was on the ground behind him. She aimed a swift kick at his nose, splattering blood everywhere, then ran around his writhing body and found the holster. There was no way she could get at it while on her feet. She knelt, but that wasn’t working, either. She lay down on the ground beside the holster and groped for the weapon.

  Mosely stood up and swung around, bashing Daisy against a tree trunk. This time, the dog let go of him and fell on the ground, stunned. Mosely looked surprised to be free, then he looked at Holly and saw what she was trying to do. He came at her, naked and awesome, blood streaming from his nose down his body.

  Holly rolled across the holster, finding the butt of the pistol with her left hand on the way. She would have one shot, nearly blind, and then he would be on her. She rolled over again to increase the distance between them, then, half guessing where he was, she pointed the gun away from her body and pulled the trigger. It was a double-action pistol; it did not need to be cocked. The gun roared, and over her shoulder, she saw the bullet strike him in the right shoulder, spinning him around and sending him to the ground. She got her head against a tree and struggled to her feet.

  Mosely was on one knee now, trying to get up, making animal noises.

  Holly ran around him and, standing close to him, watching his face over her shoulder, pulled the trigger again. The bullet entered Mosely’s forehead, and the back of his head exploded. He fell backwards and lay, inert, on the ground.

  Afraid to let herself relax, afraid that others from Palmetto Gardens would hear the shots and come running, Holly ran to her empty trousers, sat on the ground next to them and began rummaging for her spare handcuff key. It took her a moment to root it out and another moment to get free, then she went to Daisy.

  The dog got unsteadily to her feet. Holly held her head in her hands and talked to her. “You’re fine, girl, and he’s dead; he can’t hurt us any more.” Then she became conscious that she was still very vulnerable, naked and without Daisy to protect her. She got into her pants and shoes, buttoned her shirt and got her gun belt on again. With Mosely’s pistol in her hand, she searched the woods for her own gun, found it, holstered it, then tossed Mosely’s weapon into the car. She opened the door, and Daisy jumped into the car.

  Holly got into the still-running vehicle, yanked it into reverse and raced backward until she found a spot to turn around. Finally headed back down Jungle Trail toward A1A, she used the speed dialer on her car phone to call the station and ask for Hurd Wallace.

  “Deputy Chief Wallace,” he said.

  “Hurd, it’s Holly.”

  “You sound winded. Are you all right?”

  “I’m all right. Listen to me: out on Jungle Trail, near the north gate to Palmetto Gardens, Cracker Mosely attacked me, but I managed to shoot him. He’s dead. Get out there and work the scene. Photograph everything, then call an ambulance and get the body out of here. Clean up the scene. Do it all as quietly as you can, and don’t say anything to anybody about it. You got that?”

  “Holly, we can’t just let a shooting go,” Wallace said.

  “We’re not letting it go. I’m reporting it to the police, right?”

  “Right, I guess so.”

  “Register the body at the hospital as a John Doe. I don’t want anybody to know he’s dead.”

  “All right.”

  “Do you know where the community college gymnasium is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Meet me there at sundown, but don’t try to enter the gym or even the parking lot; just wait for me on the road. I’ll fill you in then.”

  “Are you all right, Holly?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, I’ll get out to Jungle Trail right now.”

  “And, for God’s sake, don’t let anybody, and I mean anybody, know where you’re going. And when you get out here, watch out for Mosely’s people. There may be more of them around.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Holly drove toward Riverside Park and her trailer. She had to get cleaned up. She didn’t want anybody to know what had happened to her. She thought about Rita Morales and realized how lucky she had been.

  “Daisy,” she said, rubbing the dog’s head, “you are a wonderful human being.”

  CHAPTER

  56

  H olly got changed and fed Daisy. She still had a couple of hours before dark. She drove north on A1A and turned into Jungle Trail. Maybe Hurd was still there. She drove rapidly along, then came around a corner and saw a police car and an ambulance. The body was being loaded, and Hurd had a garbage bag in his hand. Holly parked off the road to allow the ambulance to pass, then got out of the car and approached Hurd.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Hurd asked.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “What happened here, Holly? I found your underwear. Were you raped?”

  “Almost,” she said, then she gave him a terse account of what had happened while, at her insistence, he took notes.

  She went to the car, got Mosely’s gun and handed it to Hurd. “This is what I shot him with.”

  Hurd took the gun, released the clip and looked at the ammunition. “Hollowpoints,” he said. “That accounts for the condition of the body.”

  “Did anybody show up here from Palmetto Gardens?” she asked.

  “I was here for about fifteen minutes alone before the ambulance came,” he replied. “A Range Rover drove up to the gate from the inside, sat there for a minute, then left. Nobody got out.”

  “Did they see your car?”

  “I don’t think so,” Hurd said. “It was parked where it is now, out of the way.” He pointed. “And the brush would have made Mosely’s body hard to see.”

  “I wonder what Mosely was doing out here,” Holly said. “He certainly wasn’t looking for me, because nobody knew I would be here. I didn’t know myself until I arrived.”

  “He was wearing sweatclothes and sneakers,” Hurd replied. “Maybe he was jogging along the outside o
f the fence.”

  Holly realized that she had not even thought about what kind of clothes he was wearing. “Maybe so. But who would wear a gun while jogging?”

  “Somebody who hoped to shoot something,” Hurd said. “There are deer and other wildife out here. Maybe Mosely just liked to kill things.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that,” she said. “Tell me, did you let anyone know you were coming out here?”

  “No, you said not to.”

  “Good. There’s something else I have to ask you about, Hurd. I’m sorry if it seems like prying.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Did Bob Hurst have anything to do with your divorce?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, was he having an affair with your wife?”

  Hurd shook his head. “I don’t believe he was. They started seeing each other after we separated. He told me that himself. Our house was just down the street from his, and we had socialized a little while I was still married. Bob had been divorced some years ago. He was lonely, I guess. I wasn’t suprised that he and Linda got married.”

  “So, after Bob started seeing your wife, he would have had access to her house?”

  “Yes, I suppose so. I had moved out, into an apartment, and like I said, he lived just down the street. Why are you asking about this?”

  “Because I think Hurst stole the Smith and Wesson thirty-two from her house, the one Chet Marley was killed with.”

  “That makes some kind of sense, I guess. It was Bob who filed the burglary report for Linda.”

  “A smart move,” Holly said. “Let me ask you this: remember the tape we heard of the bug in Barney Noble’s car?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You think that could have been Hurst in the backseat?”

  “I honestly don’t know. It was impossible to identify a voice from what we heard. Wasn’t the FBI going to try to clean up the tape and improve the quality?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know if it’s been done yet. I haven’t heard anything.”

  “I think we ought to go talk to Bob Hurst,” Hurd said, looking at his watch. “He might still be at the station.”

  “We don’t really have anything on him yet. The tape isn’t good enough, unless the FBI can work wonders with it.”

  “He doesn’t know how good the tape is,” Hurd said.

  “You’ve got a point. Let’s go.”

  As they walked into the police station, Bob Hurst was walking out.

  “Got a minute, Bob?” Holly asked.

  Hurst looked at his watch. “My wife’s expecting me for dinner.”

  “You’re going to be late,” Holly said. She led Hurst to interview room one, with Hurd Wallace bringing up the rear, and closed the door behind them. “Sit down,” she said.

  Hurst looked at Holly and Hurd. “What’s this about?” he asked.

  “Put your gun and your badge on the table,” Holly said.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “And I gave you an order.”

  Reluctantly, Hurst did as he was told. Hurd put the two items into his pocket, and they all sat down.

  “Consider that I have read you your rights,” Holly said.

  Hurst now looked worried.

  “Bob, this is the one and only chance you’re going to have to help yourself,” Holly said.

  Hurst watched as Hurd set a tape recorder on the table.

  “Before we turn on the machine, I need to tell you three things. First, the FBI has had a bug in Barney Noble’s car for some time now; second, we know you stole the Smith and Wesson thirty-two from Linda’s house; and third, Cracker Mosely has confessed.” Mosely had confessed only to raping Rita Morales, but Hurst didn’t know that.

  “Confessed to what?” Hurst said.

  “It’s over, Bob. We’ve got you on tape taking money from Barney Noble to rat out the department.”

  Hurst didn’t deny it. “What did Cracker tell you?” he asked.

  “You have to tell us everything right now, or face…well, you know what you’ll have to face.”

  Hurst began to sweat. “Jesus, I just got married,” he said.

  Holly said nothing.

  “I talk, I walk,” Hurst said.

  Holly still didn’t speak.

  “Look, I didn’t kill anybody! I can give you who did, but I have to walk!”

  “We may be able to help you,” Holly said.

  “I want a guarantee. I was there. I didn’t have a choice. But I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “If that’s the truth, and you testify against them, tell us everything, and I mean everything, then I’ll recommend to the prosecutor that you walk.” She turned to Hurd and nodded.

  Hurd turned on the recorder.

  “I am Chief of Police Holly Barker,” she said into the microphone. “Deputy Chief Hurd Wallace is present.” She gave the date and time. “Detective Robert Hurst is present for interrogation. Detective Hurst, have you been apprised of your Miranda rights?”

  “Yes,” Hurst said.

  “Do you wish to have an attorney present during this interrogation?”

  “No,” Hurst replied.

  “Start at the beginning. Tell us everything,” Holly said.

  Hurst took a couple of deep breaths. “I first met Barney Noble at Hank Doherty’s house at a poker game last May. Hank, Barney, Chet Marley, Cracker Mosely, and I were present. It was the first time I had met Mosely, too. My car was in the shop, and Chet had given me a ride. When we were through playing, Barney offered me a ride home, and I accepted. We stopped at a hotel bar for a nightcap.

  “Talk got around to money. I had lost a couple of hundred bucks, mostly to Barney, and I couldn’t really afford it. Barney gave me back my money and said he might be able to send some off-duty work my way. I had gotten soaked in a divorce and was pretty hard up, what with the alimony, and I said sure, I’d like that. Barney explained to me about Palmetto Gardens and how private the members wanted to keep it, and he said that it was important for him to know if my department ever had any interest in the place. All he wanted, he said, was a little advance warning. He offered me two hundred a week for that, and I agreed, and he drove me home. He gave me two hundred that night.

  “A few weeks passed. I met with Barney once a week and told him I hadn’t heard anything, and he’d give me the two hundred. Then, all of a sudden, he tells me he wants me to follow Chet Marley when he’s off duty. I didn’t want to do that, but Barney pressed me and reminded me that I had been signing receipts for the money he’d given me. So I started to follow Chet. Turns out, he was meeting with a guy, some kind of accountant, who was working at Palmetto Gardens. I saw them talking in a bar twice, on successive nights. When my meeting day with Barney came around, he got pretty excited when I told him about it. Next thing I knew, the guy was gone. Barney said he’d been transferred to his security company in Miami. I figured the guy was dead.

  “Chet went to see Barney about it, but Barney gave him a line, and, I guess, Chet couldn’t prove anything. I’m still following Chet at nights, and he’s driving around Palmetto Gardens, sizing the place up, and at the next poker game, he starts pumping Barney about the place. Barney didn’t like it. Next day, Barney calls me and says Chet’s meeting with somebody else from Palmetto Gardens. I followed Chet, as usual, but he lost me. This happened two, three nights in a row. I don’t know how he did it, but I just couldn’t stay with him. I reported this back to Barney, and he told me to keep trying, and he’d work it from his end.

  “Pretty soon, it becomes clear to me that Barney knows more about the department and the way it’s run than I’m telling him. I ask him how he knows this stuff, but he won’t tell me. I go on for a few months, meeting with Barney every week, telling him stuff I’m finding out, but he already seems to know what I’m telling him. It’s like he’s using me just to check out his other information.

  “Then one night I’m meeting with Barney and Mosely at a gas station on A1A, and
Chet Marley drives by. We hop into Barney’s car and follow him. Barney figures if I can’t stay with Chet, then he can. We’re in Barney’s personal car, a Lincoln, instead of the usual Range Rover. So we’re following Chet south on A1A. Then Chet pulls over and when we pass, he flags us down.

  “Oh, I forgot to say that Barney had asked me to get him a clean gun. I didn’t know why he wanted it, and I didn’t want to know, but he asked me for a gun. I gave him the thirty-two I had taken from Linda’s place. Barney turns his car around, and we pull over, nose to nose, with Chet’s car. Barney and Mosely get out. I’m ducking down in the backseat, because I don’t want Chet to see me. I hear some arguing, and then there’s a single shot. I stick my head up and I can see Barney and Mosely, but I can’t see Chet. Then I see Barney wipe off the gun with a handkerchief and throw it over the fence into the woods beside the road.

  “I’m petrified, you know? We’re on a public highway, and they’ve just shot the chief of police. Then I see Barney looking inside Chet’s car, and he goes to the trunk, too. Then he and Mosely get back in the car and we drive off. Mosely’s at the wheel, and Barney’s giving him instructions. He doesn’t say where we’re going, but a few minutes later we arrive at Hank Doherty’s place. Barney tells me to stay in the car. He and Mosely get out, and I can see that Barney has a shotgun. They go inside, and I can hear the dog going crazy—the dog never liked Mosely—but a minute later that stops. I guess Hank put her in the kitchen. Then, half a minute after that, I hear the shotgun, just once. A few minutes later, Barney and Mosely come out of the house. I start to ask questions, and Barney tells me to shut up. They take me back to where my car was. Barney gives me a thousand dollars in cash and makes me sign a receipt for it, then they drive off.” Hurst stopped talking.

  “Who shot Chet Marley?” Holly asked.

  “It must have been Barney. I gave him the gun, and I saw him throw it away.”

  “Who shot Hank Doherty?”

  “Barney had the shotgun when they went in; he didn’t have it when they came out.”