A large sailboat was moored to the dock; its stern flush with the end of the dock; its bowlines strung to cleats placed every twenty feet on the open waterside of the structure. The boathouse itself was made of massive logs, with what appeared to be large floor to ceiling windows on both sides.
Carefully Jim descended the stairs, crossed the empty living room, and stepped out of the wide, double front doors. He jogged to the corner of the garage, peeked around and seeing no one he walked to the waterside of the building. Here he could see the entire backyard and the boathouse.
The windows of the building were a problem, anyone inside the boathouse could see him, but he couldn’t see inside the building. He studied the front of the building. A large wooden double door was centered in the glass paneled front. To reach the double doors would require Jim to cross the open backyard, once again, anyone inside the building would see Jim’s approach.
Jim carefully worked his way along the line of azaleas until he was kneeling behind the last bush. Here he had an even better view of the building. The front windows were clear, but the side windows were covered with a solid sun screen. He opted for the dock and the door at its end.
Swallowing hard he checked the shotgun, flipped the safety off and hurried to the dock. Carefully he scanned the boathouse and sailboat for any movement. Nothing. Then, gun at the ready, he slowly made his way along the dock.
CHAPTER 53
Eve pushed the wooden handles into the hole she had been chiseling into the floor. The hole wasn’t big enough. “Damn!” she whispered. She eyed the hole in the floor, two handles wouldn’t fit, but one would. Using her fingernails and her teeth, she began tearing at the duct tape.
Soon the two handles separated. Gripping the mop handle she fit it to the hole and pushed. It almost fit. Standing the handle straight up she gripped it high and lifted her feet, hanging all of her weight on the makeshift pry bar. The edges of the hole wouldn’t support the weight and the handle broke through. She nearly shouted with joy, caught herself and whispered “I’m through!” to Sherrie.
Now Eve tried to lever the board up. She pulled as hard as she could, nothing happened. She tried to sit on the mop, putting all of her weight on the prybar. The wood only groaned but didn’t pull free.
“Sherrie, I’m going to stand you up. I want you to lay on this mop while I push the broom handle under the edge, got it?”
Sherrie did her best to grin. “Let’s do it,” she whispered.
Eve pushed hard to wedge another handle into the hole. It didn’t work. “Try again,” she whispered. Sherrie did her best to balance on the mop. Her head spun and nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Eve gave up on the broom and sat on the mop handle. Just as she reached out to steady her sister-in-law a loud “POP” filled the closet and the board broke out of the floor.
Sherrie grinned as Eve hugged her. “We did it kid! We did it.”
“Yeah, we did!” Sherrie whispered as she slowly lowered herself to the floor. Painfully Eve pushed her hips through the hole in the floor. She looked at Sherrie and whispered, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then, feet dangling in the lake she wiggled her shoulders through the hole and slid into the water.
The water was cold. Eve surfaced and gave an involuntary shiver. She wiped the wet hair from her eyes and looked around. She was floating two feet below the floor of the boathouse. A forest of round concrete pillars supported the structure. To her right was the west exterior wall of the building. Moving to the edge of the building she peeked around a piling and studied the shoreline.
Nothing, no houses, just brush and rocks.
Eve decided to check the opposite side of the boathouse. Moving back under the building she soon saw a patch of sunlight and a path of open water. She could see the hulls of three boats floating peacefully next to each other. Past the boats lay a small patch of water, like a driveway, then three more boats on the opposite side. Turning to her side she did her best side stoke. Slowly, carefully, as quietly as she could Eve crept to the stern of the nearest boat. Peering around the edge she studied the far end and both sides of the boathouse. She didn’t see the madman, but this was no time to take chances.
Taking a deep breath she pinched her nose and kicked her way to the bottom. Once there she hurried across the open area to the far side of the boathouse. Rolling on her back she peered upward. She nearly surfaced, then realized she hadn’t reached the deck on the far. Two more strong kicks and she was certain she was below it. Afraid of being seen from someone on the shore, or someone looking under the boathouse she swam to the lake side of a piling and edged her way to the surface. She wanted to let the air in her lungs explode outward, she wanted to suck in a fresh lung full of clean air and stop the terrible pounding in her ears. But the idea of that noise terrified her. She gently emptied her lungs, and gripped the piling. Hanging there she panted as if she’d run a marathon.
Expecting a clear view of the shoreline Eve was disappointed to see only a white sailboat hull blocking her view.
“Okay, now what?” she muttered. She needed to move to the other side of the boat. Carefully Eve released the piling and breast stroked to the very edge of the building. She could see an open space, then the dock just a few feet in front of her. Eve had to cross four feet of open water and get under the dock. After that, she would go under the sailboat. From there, well, she’d figure it out then. Suddenly the shadow of a man on the dock swept past her. Panicked Eve dove for the bottom.
CHAPTER 54
The sailboat sat motionless in the water. Jim stood even with the Danforth anchor suspended over the small bowsprit. He could see shadows through the darkened porthole windows but no detail. Glancing at the door, occasionally checking the shoreline behind, Jim studied the boat. Nothing moved.
As silently as he could Jim approached the door to the building. A voice exploded in the silence. “Bye-bye dumb ass.”
The voice came from behind. Jim attempted to spin to his left, but it was already too late. Cole Prestcott had spotted Jim through the dark green tinted windows of the boat. He’d been hiding in the galley way of the sailboat as Jim approached. Now he stood on the boat deck with a wooden boat hook raised above his head. Jim attempted to raise the shotgun to ward off the blow, but the weight of the implement and the power with which the madman swung it was too much. The boat hook knocked the gun to the side and drove into Jim’s shoulder. His collarbone exploded in pain. Jim stumbled back, dropped the shotgun in the water, lost his footing and fell between the boathouse and dock into the lake.
Cole jumped off the boat and ran to the edge of the dock. He expected to see Jim attempting to swim away or if he was lucky a body floating in the dark water. All he saw was a swirl of silt stirred up from the bottom. Frantic to find his target Cole slammed the boat hook into the cloud of silt. Each time he succeeded only in hitting the bottom stirring up more silt. Cole got to his knees and carefully looked under the dock. No body floated there.
Mystified Cole ran across the sailboat and checked the opposite side, nothing. Unable to believe his prey was laying at the bottom of the lake Cole began jabbing the boathook into the silty bottom as he worked his way to the shore. Between stabs he carefully checked under the dock and to the sides for any sign of Jim. After five minutes Cole was convinced that Jim wasn’t coming back to the surface, at least breathing.
Jim had splashed into the water just two feet in front of her. Thinking fast Eve dove to the bottom and grabbed her husband. His body was limp for only a second and then he tried to fight away from her. Holding tightly to his shirt she pushed her face into his. Jim’s eyes met hers and a smile spread across his face. Then Eve pulled him back between the pilings and under the building wall. They surfaced between the boats.
Hugging Jim tightly, Eve kissed him. “Jim, I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.” Her words spilled out in an incoherent stream. “He was going to kill me. He was going to kill me Jim! And Sherrie’s hurt. And Gerry is…I don’t know where h
e is. I couldn’t…Jim…” Eve choked back tears, took a breath, then said. “Jim, I’m scared. That madman is right outside.”
“Shhhhhhiiiiisssssshhhh….I know, I know. Okay, okay…” Jim fought to stay calm. “Be quiet hun, he’s right out there. We’re okay babe, we’re okay,” Jim whispered.
He rolled his shoulder and massaged it with his left hand.
“Okay? What do you mean ‘okay’? We’re not okay,” Eve countered. “Sherrie is tied up in a closet over there.” Eve pointed between the boats. “She’s got plastic cable ties on her hands and feet, we need a knife or something like that. I don’t know where Gerry is. Sherrie just said he was hurt bad.”
“Is she alright?” Jim asked.
“She’s hurt, that madman hit her on the head, she’s woozy, can’t stand.”
Jim thought about that. “I don’t think we’ve got time to get help. We’ve got to do this on our own,” Jim paused. “Stay here a second.” He slipped to the next piling and peeked at the dock. A moment later he was back.
“He’s working his way to the house, looking for me,” Jim said. “Go see if you can get Sherrie untied. I’ve got to come up with something for this guy.”
“But…”
Jim reached for his pistol, “Oh no!’
“What? What ‘oh no’? What do you mean ‘oh no’?” Eve demanded.
“My gun, it fell out of my belt when I hit the water.”
“Well, lets go find it!” Eve shot back.
“The bottom is all muck. We don’t have time. No, that’s not going to work.”
“You’ve got to have a gun.” The confidence Eve had felt a moment ago began to slip away.
“I know babe, but we don’t have one. Look, swim over there, get Sherrie free and go get help. I’ll stop this idiot or at least slow him down. You two get outa here as fast as you can and call the cops. Sound like a plan?”
“NO! That’s a stupid plan. How are you going to slow him down? He’s big and he’s got a gun!”
“Okay, I’ll swim over there and you slow him down.”
“Jim!”
“Look he’ll be coming through that door any second. It’s our only choice, go get Sherrie and get out of here. I’ve got some ideas, don’t worry.” Jim was already pulling himself out of the water.
She didn’t move. “What ideas?”
“They’re not fully formed, but I’ve got ‘em”, he said as he stood on the deck. Eve surrendered to the inevitable and quickly swam back to the storage room. She struggled for a moment to clear the lake water and was soon back inside the closet.
Chapter 55
Cole came to the end of the dock, turned around and yelled at the water. “Hey Jim! I’m coming, I’m coming and you’re not going to see that little wife of yours again. I’m coming Jim.”
A plastic water bottle drifted out from under the building. Cole pulled his pistol, aimed and fired. The bullet missed the mark by several yards. Seeing how bad his aim was Cole began to laugh.
Catching his breath he shouted, “Can’t even shoot a pistol…I know what you’re thinking. I’m a screw up right? But I can hit yooouuuu Jimmy boy, don’t worry, I can get yooouuuu.”
Cole then walked to the front doors of the boathouse. Grabbing both door handles he pulled the two doors open in one motion, framing himself in the door.
“Jimmmmyyy, I’m here,” he shouted. “Should I go left or right? What do you think Jimmy boy?”
Cole studied the boathouse. He turned left and walked to the end of the deck. Looking the length of the building he could see the door of the storage closet. It was closed. “Think I’ll try the other side,” Cole said.
Raising his voice he called, “I’m coming Jimmy.” Then Cole reversed direction and walked to the right side of the building. Four docks extended from the walkway into the water. Of the four berths, three were occupied. Looking the length of the deck Cole saw a canoe paddle had been placed in front of each of the three boats resting in their slips. Next to the wall several fishing poles were spaced out along the entire length of the deck. Cole placed his left hand under his right, gripping the pistol with both hands. He didn’t know why, but it was what they did on TV and he thought it looked good.
In the slip nearest the front of the building was Cole’s twenty-two foot fishing boat with dual Mercury outboard engines and a small enclosed cabin. Cole came to the bow of the boat, pointed his gun and fired through the deck into the cabin. He gave a short chuckle, “Did I get ya Jimmy?” he called.
Not hearing anything Cole walked to the next boat. Here was his beloved Chris-Craft. Stopping just short of the bow of the boat Cole smiled. Someone had tied fishing line to the standpipe next to the wall. The line led across the deck to the water. If he hadn’t seen the line he would have tripped.
‘That’s the best you’ve got?” Cole yelled. “A piece of fishing line to trip me? A…a…whatda ya call these? A trip wire! You set a goofy, friggin’, trip wire? This ain’t TV Jimmy!”
Stepping over the trip line Cole eyed the Chris-Craft. He thought about firing through the deck into the cabin, but the idea of marring the beautiful mahogany finish simply was too much for him. Cole slowly walked along the dock to the side of the boat. He kept the pistol centered on the cabin hatch.
A short gangplank went from the dock to the boat. Rubber bumpers kept the boat from rubbing against the dock and ruining the wooden finish. Cole took one step onto the gangplank, bent over and studied the interior of the Chris-Craft. The cabin door was open.
Suddenly a splash from below. Cole spun around just in time to see Jim standing in the waist deep water between the Chris-Craft and the dock. He was holding a canoe paddle like a baseball bat. Jim swung the paddle, crashing its edge into Cole’s knee, buckling his leg and collapsing him into the Chris-Craft. Cole screamed in agony as his anterior cruciate ligament ripped with the sideway force of the blow.
“Sonofabitch,” he moaned. Coming to his knees Cole extended his arm over the side of the Chris-Craft and fired blindly into the water.
Silence.
Carefully Cole crawled to the back of the boat. Slowly he raised his head above the boat’s side. Jim was no where to be seen. Painfully Cole got to his feet. He studied the water around the boat then yelled, “That was a good one Jimmy!” He studied the water, shifted his gaze to each boat in turn, then yelled, “Wow, that hurts!” as he rubbed his shattered knee.
“But Jimmy, watch this!” Cole leveled the pistol and fired three shots at the closet where Eve and Sherrie lay. He gave a loud laugh, leaned one hand on the boat gunnel and carefully worked his way to the gangplank.
“Think I”m outa bullets Jimmy? I ain’t! NO, no, no…I got more Jimmy!” Cole slumped against the wall. Reaching into his pants pocket he withdrew a handful of bullets. With a flick of his thumb the pistol’s cylinder fell open. Cole dumped the empty shells onto the deck. “See Jimmy…see.” He reloaded by feel, never looking at the pistol, his eyes searching for Jim.
CHAPTER 56
Wood exploded over Eve and Sherrie’s heads. Splinters ripped through the small closet. Eve screamed and threw herself on the floor, landing on Sherries legs. Another loud bang and wood again exploded through the room. Sherrie screamed. A thud, not an explosion, a sort of “smack” as if from a rubber mallet as the final bullet hit a pair 2 x 4’s in the wall’s corner structure. Then silence.
They lay on the floor and listened. Finally Eve asked, “You alright?”
“I think so,” Sherrie replied. A moment later she whispered, “Eve, my hand is sticky and wet.”
Quickly Eve began running her hands over Sherrie. “It’s your shoulder, you’ve got a piece of wood stuck in it. I don’t think it’s too bad.”
Sherrie hugged her, “I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I am too honey. We’ll be all right. Gerry will be all right. We’ll get through this,” Eve said.
Sherrie shook herself, grabbing control back from the edge of panic she pointed at a ra
y of light coming from one of the bullet holes. “What’s he doing now?” she asked.
Eve peered out of the hole.
“See anything?”
“He’s standing in the wooden boat. I think he’s hurt. I don’t see Jim. Wait…yes…Jim’s in the water. He’s hiding behind the last boat.”
“Is he hurt?”
“No, I don’t think so. But he needs help. I’m going over there.”
“What? You can’t. Eve you don’t have a gun.” Sherrie’s throat tightened as she spoke.
“I can’t just sit here. I’m going.” Eve began to slide her feet through the hole in the floor. Sherrie began to argue, realized it was useless then hugged her. “Be careful,’ she whispered.
Eve nodded, unable to speak. The danger outside seemed very real. Then Eve slipped back into the water.
Jim moved along the side of Cole’s ski boat. The water was deeper here. The cold was sinking in and his arm was stiffening from the blow he’d received on his shoulder. Carefully he sank below the surface and swam under the boat. He surfaced under the deck in front of the boat.
Seconds later he heard Cole’s boots moving above him, there was a definite limp. Jim waited until the limp was past, then moved to the side of the deck. Hooking his fingers over the dock’s edge Jim kicked and pulled as hard he could. He launched clear of the water, his torso extending two feet above the deck. In the instant he was clear of the dock Jim bent forward, reached out and grabbed the pant leg of Cole’s uninjured leg. A flash later Jim’s torso crashed back to the deck squarely on his stomach. His diaphragm was thrust upward and his lungs emptied in a painful rush. But, he wasn’t to be denied. With all his strength, Jim pulled the pant leg toward him’s chest.
Cole tried to spin and bring the pistol to bear on Jim’s body, but the physics of the thing couldn’t be denied. Cole’s bad leg couldn’t support his weight alone, the force and the pain were too much. Cole’s body spun and came crashing down on the deck. His gun hand bounced off the rail of the Chris-Craft, knocking the gun in the air. The pistol landed on the dock and slid out of reach.
H.J. Gaudreau - Jim Crenshaw 02 - The Collingwood Legacy Page 22
