Shattered

by Donna Ball

  He said, “She stole my telephone and she called you not once, but over and over again. Even after I gave her a chance to earn my trust, she continued to disobey me. She made me so angry. I always make mistakes when I'm angry. Mickie Anderson was a mistake, obviously, but after what she did ... She was the one who called you that day I was in the car with you, wasn't she? Jesus, can you imagine how I felt? I trusted those girls, both of them, left the telephone there just to prove how much I trusted them, and they betrayed me.”

  He hesitated, then added with a hint of surprise, “So did Tanya Little. The only two bodies that have ever been found, and both of them done while I was angry. Tanya was a great disappointment to me, much like Kelly in a lot of ways. She wasn't as refined as Kelly, of course, but she was amusing—had a wicked mouth on her, and she never got tired of standing up to me. I should have known that would lead to trouble. I kept her too long, even after I had Kelly. I was selfish. I should have been satisfied with one. And then Tanya, the little bitch, tried to escape when we were docked in Mexico Beach, can you believe that? I had to track her down. I was angry and I was careless and it could have been all over.” He shook his head slowly, remembering. “I've been a lot more careful since then.”

  Carol said, “Kelly...”

  “Ah, yes, Kelly.” He came back to the present. “You see what can be accomplished when one keeps one's composure and thinks things through? From near-tragedy was born the kernel of an idea. Mother and daughter, a vignette. Something I'd never attempted before. Of course, from a merely practical standpoint, it all worked out well, too. I could keep an eye on you while staying close to my, er, hobby, and being in the midst of spring break—well, as I've said, it's amazing how the universe will work for you, sometimes, if you just keep your head.”

  Her hands tightened on the seat. Something metal dug into her fingers and she realized vaguely it was one of the clips that held the fire extinguisher in place beneath the seat. She held on more tightly as the boat rode a wave. “You could have taken me at any time,” she said. “That morning on the beach, the day we looked at property...”

  He nodded. “Of course. That was my plan, both times. The day you got the phone call from Mickie—”

  “It wasn't Mickie,” Carol said automatically. “She called herself Tanya.”

  Ken frowned. “She did? I'll be damned.” And then his face made a wry, unconcerned expression. “It was Kelly then, too. Sometimes she calls herself Tanya. It's a game we play. And poor little Mickie died for nothing.” He shrugged. “Not that she would have lived much longer anyway. But she made a nice object lesson on obedience and I hated to get rid of her so soon.”

  Carol's fingers sought the clips beneath her seat and held firm.

  Carlton shrugged. “At any rate, I had no intention of driving you home that night, and I wouldn't have let you leave if you hadn't gotten that second call—from your husband, was it? Bad timing once again. Fortunately, I'm a patient man.”

  “You were watching my house, you broke in...” But then she stopped, and shook her head. “It couldn't have been you who attacked Guy. We were together when it happened.”

  “Of course, it wasn't me. I had no interest in your husband. It was you I wanted.”

  “Why—did you wait so long?”

  He smiled. “I could have taken you by force, but I don't do that. They always come willingly, my girls. Why should you be any different? Although, I must say, I was beginning to get a little anxious, after all the times I tried to get you out on the water and you refused. Even Kelly wasn't this much trouble.”

  “Laura,” Carol said. “You called her, lured her to the beach—”

  “It was Kelly, I told you that. I'm afraid I had to get rather severe with her before she'd make the call, and then she almost blew it at the end. But I think she honestly thought the woman who answered the phone was you, and how could I know? The thing is, after they found the Anderson girl's body, I was getting a little nervous. Foolish I know, but I panicked. Then you turned me down when I tried to get you out here, so what else was I to do? Some people might say, of course, that it was a mistake to let her get away, but I like to think of it as merely generous. And no harm was done.”

  “No,” whispered Carol. “No harm.”

  ***

  “Surrounded by water.” Laura said softly, staring out the window. “On the card they were bound and blindfolded and surrounded by water. Oh, my God.” She gripped Guy's arm. “Guy, you don't think he's keeping Kelly on that island...”

  The sheriff was rushing down the stairs. The Coast Guard had already been notified, his men dispatched. Guy lunged to his feet. “I'm going with them,” he said, pushing past Laura.

  “Guy, no!” Once again she clutched at his arm.

  Guy looked back impatiently. Her eyes were big and focused on something beyond him. He started to pull away.

  Slowly she turned her eyes to Guy. “Kelly—when she called, that's what she said. The tower. The tower, Guy,” she repeated with forced intensity.

  She was staring, dark eyed, over his shoulder. Guy turned around.

  Framed in the picture window behind him, close enough to touch, was the lighthouse.

  ~

  Chapter Forty-six

  Carol's hands were gripping the seat with painful force, partly for balance as the boat rose and sank with the waves, partly out of sheer terror. She could see a small dock ahead, the narrowest of approaches between two rock jetties. The boat was riding the waves at an oblique angle toward the rocks; it would take engine power to dock safely.

  She said, “Are you going to let Kelly go now? Is that why you brought me here, for an exchange? Because I'll stay, of course, I'll stay, and I won't be half the trouble she's been. Just let her go home.”

  He smiled. “You are naive. Of course I'm not going to let her go home, or you either. I have something very special planned for both of you. But first there are rituals to be observed.”

  He reached into the pocket of his windbreaker and brought out a necklace. Carol recognized it immediately: the leather thong, the pewter figurine.

  “It’s not the same, of course,” he acknowledged. “It means nothing to you. But humor me.” He held it out to her. “Put it on.”

  “No.” Carol said.

  He looked surprised.

  “If you're going to kill me with it, I'm not going to make it easy for you.”

  He sat back, a thoughtful set to his mouth. “So. You are clever.”

  “Clever enough to know you won't get away with this, whatever it is. Everyone knows I'm with you—my partner, my husband, the police.”

  “Of course, they do.” He said it dismissingly. “Do you really think they worry me?”

  “They know about the necklace. They know about Tanya Little and Mickie Anderson and Laura, for God's sake. Do you really think they won't be able to put the rest of it together?”

  He smiled benignly. “My dear girl, they haven't been able to put it together in half a dozen years. Why should I think they could do so now?”

  Carol inched forward on her seat, pretending to seek balance against the waves while her fingers worked the clips on the fire extinguisher. The rocks loomed closer. He would have to start the engine soon. “The necklace. Tell me about it.”

  He shrugged. “It's a conceit, really, not much more than that. It attracts the girls, makes them feel special, sometimes for the first time in their life. Makes them feel they have a friend when they need one most, someone who understands when their parents and their friends have deserted them. I've never taken a girl against her will. They always come to me.”

  “Do you always use that phony line about being a movie director?”

  He was amused. “Not always. You'd be surprised how often it’s effective though. For the most part I'm simply a friend who manages to be there when they need me. In Kelly's case, because I know that's why you're asking, I knew she wanted to go to that concert. I offered to give her a ride. I told her
to keep our friendship a secret, and she did. They always do.”

  “And then later, you make them write a note so their parents won't keep looking for them.”

  “Only if I think it’s necessary. Some parents never look at all.”

  “You took an awful chance, using the same pickup line every time, writing the same note ... using a place as small as St. T. to take the girls from.”

  “Don't be absurd, it wasn't just St. T. Daytona, Panama City, Miami—wherever the girls in trouble are, that's where I would be. But St. T. did have the added convenience of being off the beaten track, and during spring break there was just enough confusion to make anything possible. And the deep water dock, of course, so that I could bring in whatever kind of boat I needed. That was important.”

  Carol felt ill. Determinedly, she concentrated on the task at hand, inching her fingers back until she felt the slim neck and hooked nozzle of the fire extinguisher. “And you kept them on your boat?”

  “My yacht, yes, most of the time. Always docking in a different port, no one ever notices much or asks questions. With Tanya, then with Kelly, it became something of an inconvenience. But I have a safe room in my house in Tallahassee, which made it a little easier. Until I found this place.”

  He turned toward the lighthouse, smiling. “Do you know what it reminds me of? A castle keep. That’s what I thought the first time I saw it. It will become my own little fortress on my own island kingdom.”

  He turned back to her and made a move as though he was going to reach for her. Desperation shot through Carol, and she said quickly, “But why? Why Kelly, why any of them? Why do you do this?”

  “Power, of course,” he answered easily. “That's the why of everything, isn't it? To take unstructured, undisciplined young flesh and mold it, shape it, control it, turn it into what I want it to be. To capture the runaways and the rebels and break their spirits, to take the bad girls and show them what bad really means—it's a rush, I won't deny that. To have a living, breathing human being to do with whatever I want—to dress as I want, treat as I want, play with if I want, hurt if I want, even mutilate and dismember if I want.”

  The horror Carol was feeling must have been reflected on her face because he smiled, seeming to enjoy her reaction. And he finished simply, “Because I want to, that's why. And that's what power is all about. Because I can. Now, don't ask any more stupid questions. Put the necklace on.” He held it out to her.

  Carol lifted her chin. Her fingers closed around the neck of fire extinguisher; with her other hand, she tried to loosen the base. “No.” she said.

  He stood up with a grimace of impatience and swung toward her, his hands lifted to drop the necklace over her head.

  With all the strength she possessed, Carol lunged to her feet, wrenching the fire extinguisher out of its bracket. In the same motion, she pivoted on the balls of her feet and swung it toward him hard, as hard as she could.

  In her mind's eye she saw it all very clearly, in stark slow motion and three-dimensional detail. She saw his auburn head framed against a darkening sky. She saw spray slap the side of the boat and leave shiny beads on the gleaming trim. She saw the surprise on his face as he turned his head to follow her motion; surprise that was already fading to amusement as he ducked one shoulder in a half turn and reached out to grab the weapon from her. She felt the impact as he blocked her forward motion and sent her reeling backward, the backs of her legs crashing against the cockpit. She felt herself losing balance, saw the grim glee in his eyes as he wrenched the fire extinguisher from her and she began to fall backward into the icy water.

  But that was not what happened. That was what she expected to happen, that was what she knew would happen the moment she shot to her feet and, in retrospect, that was what should have happened. She did see the surprise on his face and that was what saved her. He was accustomed to dealing with uncertain teenage girls, easily controlled, easily predictable. He had not been prepared when Laura fought back, and he was not prepared now for a mother's rage.

  She swung the fire extinguisher with all her might and felt the staggering impact as it struck him across the middle. A wrenching pain tore through the muscles of her back and she cried out, stumbling backward, even as she saw him do the same. Only it was Carlton who lurched back against the cockpit, Carlton who flailed for balance, Carlton who, with a cry that registered nothing more than stark disbelief, plunged into the dark, tumbling water.

  There was a part of Carol that wanted to collapse on the floor of the boat and cover her head with her hands and scream and scream. There was a part that wanted to search the waves for signs of life, and a part of her that hoped grimly and coldly that there were none. But the only part that mattered was the part that saw the rocks, throwing back foam in angry gusts, lurching ever closer. And beyond the rocks, the lighthouse.

  Pain stabbed from her hip to her lung as Carol threw herself toward the control panel. She grabbed the wheel, planting her feet for balance and gritting her teeth against the pain as she fumbled for the ignition. A moment of panic shot through her as she thought Ken might have removed the key, but no, it was there. She turned the key frantically and was rewarded with a shuddering cough from the engine, then nothing.

  The boat turned broadside against a wave just then and the crash sounded like cannon fire. Flames stabbed through the muscles of Carol's back as she struggled to remain upright. A sheet of water lapped over the deck and soaked her canvas shoes.

  Carol grabbed the key again, then forced herself to stop, to think, to push back panic. She was not an expert seawoman by any means, but she had been in and around boats all of her married life. She knew enough to cope with an emergency in just about anything that was seaworthy, from a wave-runner to a sailboat. She had never been at the controls of anything this powerful, it was true, but one inboard was very much like another. She could manage this, if only she didn't panic.

  She thought briefly about life vests, and a radio, both of which were no doubt located below if they were onboard at all. She dared not let go of the wheel long enough to search for them. When the boat crested the next wave, it did a half-turn and she saw the rock jetty was less than thirty yards away. The boat was caught in the undertow and being sucked in.

  She found the gearshift and levered it into what she hoped was the neutral position. She turned the key again. Nothing happened. Was the battery dead? Had that last wave gotten into the engine? She turned it again, frantically. “Start, damn you. Start...”

  The powerful twin inboards roared to life, drowning out the sounds of the surf and wind. With a sob of relief, Carol turned the wheel hard to port, away from the rocks, and forced the engine into gear.

  The boat shot forward with a force that threw Carol against the wheel and she almost blacked out with the pain. The deck tilted beneath her, a fan of water slapped hard against her face and for a terrifying moment she thought the boat had capsized.

  Sobbing for breath, she wrestled the wheel against the power of the tide, easing up on the throttle experimentally. The sun was lost behind a cloud just then and the air was abruptly cold against her face.

  Carol looked back over her shoulder. The water was a dark, undulating sheet of purple and indigo, and the sky had lost its color. Just across the channel, less than twenty minutes away, was St. T., safety, the promise of help.

  Carol did not even consider turning the boat in that direction.

  ~

  Chapter Forty-seven

  “I need a boat,” Guy demanded as he burst through the door. A sheet of rain and wind followed him into Walt's office.

  “Yeah, I just bet you do—” Then Walt looked up and saw the sheriff standing beside Guy and he removed the cigar from his mouth. “What the hell's going on? Your office just called wanting the description of Ken Carlton's boat.” He looked at Guy. “Say, is Carol—”

  “No time to explain,” Case said. “We need something that'll get us to Lighthouse Island fast.”

  “He'
s got Carol!” Guy pushed around the counter and searched the pegboard for a familiar set of keys.

  “Hold on there, pardner, nobody's got Carol. I saw her myself leave with—” And understanding darkened his face. “Holy shit,” he said softly.

  Guy said, “He killed all those girls, Walt. And he had a picture of Kelly.”

  “We've got to move, Walt,” Case said urgently.

  Moving with startling speed for a man his size, Walt snatched up a key and pushed it across the counter. “The Sea Ray,” he said. “It's the only thing that has a chance of catching them in this weather. Go on, git!”

  Guy snatched up the keys before the sheriff could take them and Case did not waste time arguing. They ran out into the rain.

  ***

  By the time the makeshift pier came into view, a fine cold needlelike rain was driving into her face and the sea had taken on a blue-green ferocity that was typical of brief, angry storms offshore. It took two tries, and when she finally got close enough to the stanchion to drop anchor, a surging wave tossed the boat against the pier with a grinding, crashing sound on the hull.

  She had never been good at docking procedures, and Guy's patience had generally not endured her attempts. But today, there was no one to take over, no one to cast the line for her, no one to hold the wheel steady in the tossing sea. The pain in her back had transformed into an odd, tingling numbness, but she was beginning to lose sensation in her left hand. A lifetime passed while she cast the line, missed, reeled it in, cast again.

  Finally the loop caught and held, and she drew it tight, pulling with all her strength to bring the boat close enough to allow her to climb out onto the pier. The boat rose and fell beneath her and her feet almost slipped on the slippery deck, but she grabbed on to the pier and pulled herself up.

  The lighthouse loomed like a giant, prehistoric monolith before her. Its huge, scarred white base took up her entire field of vision, blocking out the sea and the sky, filling the whole world.