Telltale (Shelby Hope Book Two) (Shelby Hope Novels 2)

by Stephanie Parrish

  Chapter 16

  But this time, the liquid was water, not tequila. Duke, standing behind Rumbar and out of his field of vision, nodded, a pleased expression on his face.

  He was helping me. He couldn’t fight Rumbar, head on, but he was doing what he could. He’d used tequila the first time, so that we could all smell it. And the scent lingered, because the front of my shirt was soaked with it. But then he’d switched it to water when he went to get the spoon.

  I continued to fight, but in the end, Rumbar got the better part of two tumblers in me. I forced my body to relax and to slow my reactions, just as I would if I were really drunk. It wasn’t difficult; I’d had enough with the first glass that I felt tipsy and a little light-headed.

  "There, Shelby, see how much nicer you are with an attitude adjustment? See how it hurts so much less?" He got up, much to my relief. I had not enjoyed having him pin me down. He took a seat next to me. Still too close for my liking, but an improvement.

  I leaned back against the cushions, partially closing my eyes. I felt a little better now that I could breathe freely and since the terrible pressure on my arms was gone.

  "Yeah, you’re right," I said, slowly. "So, tell me, why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why shoot your, uh, brother?" I didn’t really want to know any more of this sordid story, but I wanted to keep him talking, keep him from moving to the next step in his plan.

  "You know, that’s a good story, Shelby. And one that Duke will do well to remember, since I’m thinking about bringing him into the family business. See, Eric and I had a nice little business going. Guns are always in demand, you know. But old Eric got greedy and started doing deals on the side. He told me he’d pay me back, well, I guess you might have heard that part, but the thing was, he’d done it before. Stolen from family, I mean. He stole from our uncle a few times, growing up. And from my other cousin. And maybe from my dad. I never was sure about that. Dad would never say, but something happened. Anyway, old Eric just proved over and over that he couldn’t be trusted. His mom’s no good either, so I guess I’m not surprised."

  I thought that if I could only get out of the cabin and into their dinghy, I could get away. I could head back toward Frying Pan Landing and find help. And Alex. I hoped that he was all right. But I couldn’t imagine what was keeping him.

  Rumbar was between me and the companionway. I’d have to get past him to get out. And I’d have to do it fast. He’d already proven that he was strong and quick.

  Assume the posture you want your attacker to assume. He will mimic you.

  I wasn’t sure if that would really work, but I let my head loll back, exposing my throat, and let my arms rest casually on either side of me. I rested my cheek against the cushion, as I turned my head to face him. "Well, so now the business is just yours?"

  "I have a silent partner." He laughed, as if at some private joke. Then, to my surprise, he leaned back against the cushions, turning his head so that we were looking at each other, like we were at the beach lying on a couple of towels, old friends having a chat.

  Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Let your adrenalin help you.

  Then I hit him, across the throat, with the edge of my hand, using all the force I could summon. He grunted with sudden pain, clutching his neck. I jumped up and pushed past him, heading for the cockpit. I banged my knee, hard, against one of the steps, but kept running, trying to make it out of the cabin.

  Last step. Into the cockpit.

  Behind me, I heard Rumbar swearing. He was coming after me. I jumped up onto the cockpit seat and started running toward the stern. I’d almost made it, in fact, I had my hand on the dinghy painter, ready to uncleat it, when Rumbar grabbed my ponytail again and yanked me back against him, wrapping both arms around me so that I couldn’t get free. Then he wrapped his legs around mine, forcing my knees apart so that his feet were in between mine. I felt like I was in a straitjacket, only instead of being made from canvas, it was made by a psycho.

  "You are really starting to get on my nerves," he said in my ear. I jerked my head away from his lips, which tickled my earlobe. "I think the time has come to stop playing games with you. Duke!"

  I heard hesitant steps coming up the companionway.

  "Duke, get the flashlight out of the dinghy, then get over here and help me with her."

  "Wh-what are you going to do with her now?" Duke asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as he crawled past us to get the flashlight.

  "We are going to throw her overboard. With all that tequila in her, I’m surprised she made it out here so fast. But maybe it hasn’t hit her yet. It will soon though. I gave her enough to put down a grown man. As skinny as she is, she’ll be feeling all that liquor like a ton of bricks. We’ll toss her in the river and let the alligators and the fish do the rest. You got the flashlight? Good, Set it down now and come help me."

  I struggled against him, trying one last desperate time to break free.

  "Grab her feet and help me get her over the rail!"

  "But—"

  "Duke, if you don’t help me now, you’re gonna be next. You got that? You wanna be like Eric?"

  "N-n-n-oo," Duke whimpered.

  "Then grab her feet. And don’t let her kick you again. Cross her ankles so she can’t get free."

  I felt Duke’s hands on my ankles.

  "You got a tight hold?"

  "Yeah, Johnny."

  "Okay, I’m gonna let go of her legs." Rumbar unwrapped his lower body. "Now help me pick her up."

  I tried struggling, I tried going limp, but in the end, there were two of them and only one of me. They threw me overboard.

  ✽✽✽

  MY BODY SLAPPED against the surface of the water, and the shock took my breath away. For a moment, I floundered, dog-paddling to stay above the surface. Then a spear of light from the flashlight hit me in the eyes, temporarily blinding me. I took a deep breath and dove. In a second, my hands slid into the soft muck at the bottom of the river. I twisted and began swimming, away from Thief of Time, toward the shoreline. I stayed underwater as long as I could. When I finally surfaced, I took a deep breath, trying to be quiet so I didn’t give away where I was. Silently, I twisted in the water until I saw the flashlight. Rumbar was sweeping the surface of the water about fifteen feet from the boat. I guessed I was about forty feet away.

  "Duke! Are you looking? Have you seen her?"

  "I can’t see nothin, Johnny. The water’s too murky."

  "Well, look for air bubbles. She’s there somewhere."

  "What if she’s already… already…"

  "I doubt if she’s dead already, dumbass. Go get in the dinghy. We’re gonna hunt her down, make sure she drowns."

  Damn. Instead of swimming away from them, I should have swum to the dinghy and taken it. Stupid me. My head was still spinning from the tequila they’d managed to pour into me. I closed my eyes, trying to focus. A small wavelet hit me in the face, and I got a mouthful of foul-tasting water. I spit it out, trying not to gag.

  A moment later, I heard the dinghy engine crank up. Thief of Time was anchored in the basin just at the mouth of the river. The river—and Sea Star—was to my right, and the canal to my left.

  Misdirect your attacker.

  I figured I was about twenty feet from the closest bit of shoreline. I swam as quickly as I could that way. When I reached the shore, I crawled out, making sure to dig my bare feet into the oozing stinking mud, leaving good, clear evidence that I’d climbed out there. Once I got on shore, I took a few steps into the brush, then carefully backed my way back down the same way I’d come out, taking care to place my feet in my own footprints. I slid back into the water and swam along the shoreline, moving toward the river and away from Thief of Time. I kept swimming until my hands brushed against an old piling, rotted and slimy from years in the water. I wrapped my arm around it, grateful for something to hold onto and trying not to think about the things oozing out of the old wood.

  A moment late
r, I heard a shout from Rumbar. "Here! Look here, Duke, she made it ashore. Hop out and land the dinghy."

  I heard a splash as Duke jumped. Rumbar held the flashlight on him. I watched Duke scramble out of the water. He’d missed his footing and instead of landing with his feet in the mud, he’d lost his balance and fallen in. Rumbar swore at him.

  With the dinghy painter in his hand, Duke belly-flopped onto the shoreline, about three feet from my footprints, then got to his feet. He tied off the painter line to some scrub and turned to look at Johnny.

  "Well, go on! Go look for her."

  "You ain’t goin with me?"

  "No, I’m not leaving the dinghy here without one of us to guard it."

  "Well, at least give me the flashlight."

  Rumbar hesitated, but finally tossed it to Duke, who caught it. For a moment, Rumbar’s face was lit up, before Duke turned away and slowly started to make his way along the shore, the light fanning back and forth as he looked for my tracks.

  Just then, I felt something slither up against my leg. I jerked away and hit my knee against the piling. A chunk of it came away. I felt the slither again and shuddered.

  Pay attention, Shelby. Stop worrying about some stupid fish and get going now, while Rumbar doesn’t have his flashlight.

  Quietly, I started swimming back toward Thief of Time, staying well away from the shoreline and the dinghy. I was about halfway back when the light came bobbing back along the shore, flashing intermittently across the water.

  "She ain’t up here, Johnny."

  "What?"

  "She musta got away."

  "You idiot. You must have just missed something. Give me that light." The glow from the flashlight wavered as Rumbar, climbing out of the dinghy, took it from Duke.

  "Now, you get in that dinghy and wait for me to come back. And listen for sounds. She’s around here somewhere." Rumbar started sweeping the beam along the bank, looking for signs of me.

  I was about ten feet away from Thief of Time’s stern. I felt a moment of intense gratitude that I’d made it that far. Then, my gratitude melted away, as the sky lit up with a burst of lightning, the thunder became a roar instead of a rumble, and the rain began pounding. The storm, long brewing, had finally started.

  Hoping that neither of the men had seen me in the flash of lightning, I swam quickly now, up to the bow of the boat. Grabbing the anchor chain, I rested for a minute, trying to catch my breath. Then, I slipped around the other side of the boat, trying to figure out where Rumbar and Duke were.

  Another blaze of lightning lit up the night. I saw Rumbar shoving the dinghy away from the shore as he hopped aboard, the flashlight waving wildly in his hand. He was shouting at Duke, but I couldn’t hear what he said. Duke began backing the dinghy away. I watched, hoping that they would head back to their boat to get out of the rain.

  Instead, Rumbar shut off the flashlight. I couldn’t see where they were.

  Chapter 17

  I waited for the next flash of lightning, keeping the lower half of my face underwater in a desperate attempt to be invisible. When the flash came, I saw that Duke and Rumbar were heading back out into the basin and not toward their boat. They were still looking for me. Rumbar must have figured out that I wasn’t ashore.

  The next flash showed me that they were near the center of the basin. I clung to the hull of Thief of Time, keeping it between me and them.

  Rumbar turned his flashlight back on and swept it around the basin. He did two complete circuits. The rain pounded down on me, running into my eyes. Again, I felt something slinking along my leg, and I tried not think of Rumbar’s comment about alligators.

  I needed to get out of the water.

  Rumbar must have had the same thought, since he did another careful survey of the basin, lingering along any place in the shoreline where I might have made it ashore. Then he focused the light onto the stern of Thief of Time, where the swim ladder hung. I heard him shout something to Duke, trying to make himself heard above the sound of the thunder and rain. I couldn’t hear him, but Duke began a slow drift around the edge of the basin. Rumbar, hoping to catch me off guard, intermittently turned the light off, turned it on again and checked the swim ladder and the shoreline, then turned it off.

  I reached for the anchor line. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to haul myself up. But I wasn’t going to be able to make it up the stern or to shore, with Rumbar’s search going on. I wanted out of the water though, before something bit me or lightning hit the water. Taking a deep breath, I began pulling myself up the anchor line, glad that it was chain instead of rope, as that gave me a little more of a hand and foot hold.

  Slowly, I made it to the top, panting, my muscles burning. I wrapped my arm, trembling, around the bow roller. The next challenge was going to be getting onto the deck. I hung there for a moment, trying to decide if I should haul myself up by the stanchions and step over the lifelines, or try sliding under the lifelines on my belly. I finally went the belly route, going hand over hand a little way along the hull so that I could hold onto the bow cleat while I scrambled underneath the lifelines. I got a good grip on the cleat with one hand and on a stanchion with the other, took a deep breath, and kicked my foot up, wrapping my toes around another stanchion. In this awkward position, it was difficult to make the next move, but I managed to inch my toes forward until I could slide my foot, then my ankle, around the stanchion, which gave me enough leverage to pull my body onto the toe rail. The rail scraped my bare thighs as I rolled further onto the deck.

  Finally, I was aboard. I rolled onto my back, panting and gasping, letting the rain wash away the blood that I was sure was oozing from my legs. After a moment, I turned back onto my stomach and slid to the center of the foredeck. Rumbar’s light made another circuit of the basin and lingered for a moment on the swim ladder. They were only about twenty feet away now.

  My breathing slowed gradually, and the pulse pounding in my ears quieted after a few moments. The rain began to taper and the thunder and lightning became less urgent.

  Then, my heart rate jumped back into overdrive, when I felt Rumbar’s dinghy bump against the boat and heard his voice saying, "Get up there, Duke, and check to see that she didn’t sneak back aboard."

  I flattened myself as much as I could, but I was completely exposed. There was no real place to hide on a boat this size, and certainly lying on the foredeck was no kind of hiding place at all. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I heard Duke’s hesitant steps in the cockpit and Rumbar tersely telling him to check below. Duke’s flashlight bobbed briefly when he stepped down into the companionway.

  Just then, through the open hatch, I heard Alex’s voice, "Thief of Time. Thief of Time. I fixed the problem. I’m on my way."

  "Hurry up!" Rumbar snapped. "He’ll be back soon."

  "The steps are wet," Duke protested. "You didn’t shut the hatch, and the rain got in. I gotta go slow, or I’ll fall."

  Rumbar swore. "Just go."

  The light flashed through the portlights as Duke looked around below. A moment later, I heard his voice again at the companionway.

  "She’s not here."

  "Go check the foredeck, then, and let’s get going."

  This was it. Duke couldn’t fail to see me.

  I felt more than heard the thud of his footsteps, slow and careful on the wet deck. Should I get up? Jump back into the water? I froze, unable to think in my panic.

  Duke’s light flashed over me. Looking back over my shoulder, I could see his vague outline, the mist of the rain diffusing the light into a halo. His light stopped briefly on me, then moved on. He stepped closer to me, nudging my foot with his but keeping the flashlight moving out over the water, and away from where I lay. "She’s not here, Johnny."

  I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. Duke lightly kicked my foot again and began walking slowly back toward the stern. I never knew a foot bump could be so comforting.

  "Good. Then she must be dead after all. Or almost dead. Or will be before
the night’s over. Drunk, trying to find her way out of this water. She’ll never make it. Well, come on then. We’ve got a schedule to keep. Her friend is on his way back. Ivan’s waiting for us. We’re already way behind. I don’t want to risk being too late."

  "Yeah, okay, Johnny, I’m coming. I sure wish you hadn’t a done that to her though."

  "Just shut up." Duke clambered over the stern railing and down the swim ladder. Rumbar put the engine into gear, the sound growing fainter as they moved away.

  I stayed where I was for a few minutes, giving them time to be far enough away that they couldn’t see me, then I slid on my belly to the side deck, away from where they would pass me if they came this way. I wasn’t sure I could make it below without them spotting me. Plus, if they came back, I didn’t want to be trapped again.

  Huddling against the cabin, I listened hard. After a little while, I heard the sound of their anchor clinking against the bow roller. Not long after that, Sea Star chugged past. One of them flashed the light all down the boat as they passed. Probably Rumbar, still looking for me. Apparently seeing nothing amiss, he shut off the light after one last sweep along the length of the boat, then the quiet sound of their engine got even fainter as they moved into the mouth of the canal.

  When I was sure they were gone for good, I sat up. I was chilled and shivering. The rain had stopped, but I was still wet and the night air was cool now. I stood and stretched, then made my way below.

  The cabin was a mess. I hadn’t shut the portlights or the salon hatch before the rain. Quickly, I changed into a dry pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, put some water on to boil, then grabbed some towels and began mopping.

  I was almost finished drying up when I heard the sound of a dinghy engine. A spike of fear went through me, but a moment later, I heard Alex calling my name. Climbing out of the companionway with relief, I helped him tie off the dinghy.