Three Sides of the Tracks

by Mike Addington

  Whitey managed to get the first Florida car tag without incident, and Slink took the Highway 92 exit off I-95 for Daytona Beach.

  “There’s a big Stop-and-Go station down the road a piece that I’m gonna fill up at, Whitey. Keep a lookout for a car like this one so we can switch those plates again.”

  Slink went inside to pay for the gas, vainly running his long fingers through his hair to keep it in place as the wind whipped around the parking lot. The row of parking spaces in front of the store were indented at the end of the building leaving another 10 spaces alongside the trash dumpster.

  “Clerk said there’s a hurricane off the coast. Might be coming our way,” Slink said as he slammed the door against the wind. “I think that’s a Buick over there, Whitey. They all look alike nowadays. You got that screwdriver ready?”

  “Yeah, right here in my hand. It is a Buick. Not the same model, but it’ll do.”

  Slink backed the car across the rear end of the parked Buick. Smurf opened the trunk to screen Whitey, then stood facing the convenience store’s entrance to block any prying eyes from that direction. Five minutes later they were back on Highway 92 headed for the Interstate and Canaveral Beach 80 miles to the south.

  “Do you mind telling me where we’re going?” Caroline asked.

  “Why, I’m taking you to the beach, Sweetness. You don’t object to a little vacation, do you?”

  She turned away with a wry expression.

  Slink patted her leg. “Don’t look so sour. You could enjoy this if you let yourself. I haven’t given up on you yet.”

  Caroline pushed his hand away without looking or replying.

  Slink chuckled and turned on the radio to find out more about the storm, which he soon heard was 300 miles from Miami and headed north/northwest at 25 miles an hour.

  “I guess we’d better stock up in case we get caught in the storm. No big deal though. Category three ain’t nothing.”

  “Is this place really on the beach?” Whitey asked.

  “Used to be. Can’t see the beach too good now because a couple of hurricanes in 2004 pushed the sand up and made the dunes higher. I came down a couple months ago. If I stayed here long, I’d dig ‘em down so I could see the gals better.”

  Smurf and Whitey laughed.

  “You have a beach house?” Caroline said, unable to hide her surprise.

  Slink’s black eyes flashed. “Oh, I’m not good enough to have a beach house? Is that it?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It just surprised me, that’s all.”

  “That’s my point. You’re surprised that people from my part of town would own beachfront property. Right?”

  Caroline blushed and turned her head. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I think I’m better than you, Slink,” she said, using his name for the first time.

  “What bullshit. What does it mean then?”

  “It means quit blaming me because you feel inferior.”

  Slink’s hand didn’t stop this time and slapped Caroline’s head against the side window. She covered her face with both hands, but Slink stopped with just the one blow. “Smart mouth, bitch.”

  Caroline lowered her hands but cowered against the door. “I don’t care what you say. You chose to be this way, so stop blaming everyone else.”

  Slink whipped the car onto the shoulder. Horns blared as cars swerved to avoid rear ending them, but Slink’s rage blocked out the sound. He grabbed the top of Caroline’s blouse and jerked her across the seat. “Nobody talks to me like that.”

  Smurf grabbed Slink’s arm. “Come on, Slink. Not here. Slink,” he said louder and shook Slink’s arm.

  Slink threw her back across the front seat as the rage fell to a simmer. He nodded at Smurf and turned back around, drew in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He glared at Caroline once more then edged the car back into traffic.

  Tires on concrete made the only sound as they passed exit after exit.

  “Here we go,” Slink said an hour later and turned onto state road 520. He drove through the city of Cocoa just as a band of driving wind and rain rolled inland. The car swayed on its springs as the rain all but obscured the road.

  As the rain diminished, a brightly lit Walmart sign appeared, and Slink turned into the parking lot.

  “Smurf, you stay in the car with these ladies. Me and Whitey gonna do a little shopping.”

  “Will you please get some alcohol and bandages?” Caroline said in a tiny voice.

  “Sure. That’ll be tops on my list.”

  Slink returned in a half hour and drove to the front of the store where Whitey waited with a buggy of groceries and other supplies. He popped the trunk open and helped Whitey load then jumped back in and handed Caroline a can of beer. “Here’s your alcohol.”

  “You know that’s not—”

  “Take it or leave it,” Slink said and drove to the parking lot adjacent to Walmart’s, which was a Home Depot that had stayed open late to sell plywood and other necessities to concerned homeowners.

  “What’n the hell you stoppin’ here for?” Smurf said.

  “Might be a hurricane, in case you went deaf. Need tools to cover the windows. There’s plywood at the house.”

  Smurf struggled to squeeze his bulk from the back seat then followed Slink inside.

  “Get us a skill saw, hammer, and nails big enough to hold some plywood together.”

  Smurf groaned.

  “You’re blankin’ hopeless. You know that? Don’t worry, you piece of crap, Whitey’s the carpenter. All you have to do is help.”

  “Shit, Slink, why you gotta talk to me like that all the time? I hold up my end.”

  “Yeah, and whine, whine, whine while you’re doing it. I swear you’re worse than them women sometimes. Get Whitey. I wanna talk to both of you.”

  Smurf tapped on the window and motioned Whitey to get out of the car. They gathered around Slink as he told them what to do with the tools and plywood when they arrived at the beach house.

  Slink turned right onto A1A and drove a half mile before taking a driveway that wound through 50 yards of palm trees and sea grapes to the beachfront cottage. A dim light appeared over the door of the cottage. “Lucky Unc kept the power turned on. Probably forgot to turn it off.”

  “We could stay here for years and nobody find us,” Whitey said looking up at the tall stand of sea grapes that separated the cottage from the hotel next door. Various types of palms, sea grapes, and other indigenous plants had taken over Bernard’s lot on the other side of the cottage.

  “You gals get the groceries. Smurf, get the tools out and take ‘em around back. Come with me, Whitey. I want to show you something.”

  Slink unlocked the door and gave Brandy a withering look as she hobbled up the path with a bag of groceries clutched to her chest, Caroline walking beside her with bowed head and a bag in each hand.

  “Sit down. I’ll get the rest of them,” Caroline told Brandy.

  A flash of fear replaced the hopeless expression in Brandy’s blood-streaked eyes, her unwashed face stained with tears.

  “He’s out back with Whitey. Sit down. I know your leg hurts something awful.”

  Brandy attempted a smile but quickly covered her face as the tears came again.

  Caroline wrapped her arms around Brandy and stroked her hair. “Hold it together for just another day, Brandy. My daddy has his people looking for us, I promise you, and that will be the end of these animals. I’d better finish unloading the car before Mr. Bigshot comes in and starts raising hell again.”

  Caroline brought another load of groceries in and set them on the counter in the small kitchen. She was putting the perishable items in the refrigerator when Slink appeared.

  “Making yourself right at home, I see,” he said and leaned against the door frame.

  “C’mon, Sweet Cheeks, you gonna sulk all night ‘cause of one little love tap?” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let me see those sexy eyes.”

 
Caroline stepped away. “Look. I’m a hostage. That’s all I am. You understand? That’s all I am.”

  The tone of his voice changed. “Okay. But, remember, you had your chance,” he said, a corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk, and walked away.

  She finished with the groceries and lay down next to Brandy on the couch. They wrapped their arms around each other and fell into a troubled sleep.

  Caroline jerked awake. Whitey pinned her arms while Smurf held her legs. Slink bound her with ski rope then gagged her with a torn T-shirt. He and Smurf carried an already bound and gagged Brandy from the living room. Caroline screamed but only a muffled sound escaped. Whitey clamped a filthy hand over her mouth. A few moments later, the two men came back, and it was her turn to be picked up.

  They carried her through the large living room facing the ocean onto the sandy, grass-mottled yard. Three-feet-high sand dunes covered with sea oats hid the yard from the beach. As they carried her across the yard, two dark patches near the dunes caught her attention. A few steps closer she saw a covered plywood box in one pit and knew the empty one was for her. Horror at being buried alive ripped through her mind. She screamed her throat raw as they lowered her into the plywood-lined hole and nailed the lid shut. She was still screaming as sand covered the coffin.

  Slink bent over the air pipe and spoke in low voice. “Don’t worry, Sweetness, we’ll bring you some supper. Can’t have you in the house if somebody comes snoopin’ around, now can we? Remember what I said. You had your chance.”

  Caroline calmed herself to hear what Slink said, hoping he might say something she could use to talk him into letting her out. Disappointed, at least she knew he wasn’t going to leave her here, and she might have a chance to escape when they brought the food, if he wasn’t lying. Comforted by the dim light that came through the air pipe, Caroline pushed down her fear and turned her thoughts to everything that happened in the last couple days.

  33

  Finding Caroline

  Nearby voices woke Danny. He’d parked in the last spot in front of the convenience store just before dawn and didn’t bother asking permission before crawling into the back seat and falling into a deep sleep. He reached for the bottled water on the floorboard, sat up and rubbed his eyes, wishing he’d been able to continue driving instead of having to sleep.

  He went inside to the bathroom and washed his face then bought a pack of doughnuts, a large coffee, and two bottles of energy drink, thankful when he saw it was only nine o’clock but not thankful enough to overcome the guilty feeling of stopping to sleep. Caroline probably didn’t have that choice.

  Picturing her face woke him more than the coffee or energy drink. He drove back onto the interstate and didn’t stop pressing the gas pedal until the speedometer read 80. Daytona exits flashed by, and goose bumps rose on his forearms as he imagined what he would do when he arrived at Slink’s. His stomach rolled at the image of him bursting into the house with a shotgun in his hand. “Hell, I can’t do that,” he muttered.

  An hour passed while he planned how to act, what to do. The closer to Canaveral Beach he came, the illusion of him being able to overwhelm Slink and his friends dwindled and reality set in.

  Rest stops provided opportunity for a little privacy, so Danny turned into the next one and parked away from the other vehicles. He opened the trunk and pulled up the worn lining until he could fit the shotgun under the angle where it rose over the wheel well. Surveying his work, the shotgun didn’t look much different than a tire iron might look under the lining, or so he hoped. His plan called for being able to get to it easy enough without drawing suspicion, if it came down to that.

  The big pistol would be a dead giveaway he wasn’t there for a friendly visit, and there was nowhere on his body to hide it without a tale-tell bulge. Danny wiggled under the steering wheel and snuggled the .357 into the springs under the front seat. He spent five minutes arranging the pistol so that only the barrel was embedded in the springs and he could jerk the pistol out ready to fire. Danny snapped open the .45-caliber derringer to check the two bullets and make sure he knew exactly how to use it. The way Bernard described the hollow-point bullets, each one would take a man out, and, as Danny snuggled it into his waistband with the butt hidden behind the snap, that thought settled his nerves considerably. At least he’d have something if things went wrong. He jammed the blackjack into his back pocket, mostly as a last resort.

  He laid the maps on the seat after looking them over for the Canaveral Beach exit. The dread of what might happen made time seem to go faster, and all to soon the road sign for his exit indicated he only had one more mile. The goose bumps returned and the increasingly heavy rain that made driving more difficult became far less important. “I’ve got to calm down,” he admonished himself and tried taking long slow breaths.

  He crossed two bridges and stopped at a red light and knew he was in the beach town when he saw the garishly lit building of Wave Rider Surf Shop, which he’d seen on numerous billboards on the way down. As soon as he turned right, his stomach felt like someone had dumped a wheelbarrow of rocks down his throat. He looked at the map one final time for Bernard’s scrawled handwriting that marked which driveway to turn onto.

  An angry horn blared when Danny cut across traffic into the driveway. He drove slowly up the winding driveway past unfamiliar trees, caught a glimpse of the house and stopped. He cut the lights and edged closer. The trembling had stopped but now he felt rigid, mechanical. The planning and visualizing were over.

  He shielded his eyes from the rain and trotted toward the front porch, knocked and waited. A half minute later he knocked again. A shadow passed behind the drawn window curtains then the door abruptly opened. Strong hands jerked him inside before he could speak.

  “What’n the hell you doin’ here, Hair Lip?” the huge man said.

  Danny’s temper displaced his anxiety, and he jerked his arm loose. “Bernard sent me to find Slink.”

  “Uh huh.” Smurf pushed Danny toward the living room then down on a couch.

  Danny nodded to the other man he’d seen, the one with red eyes and white hair, but he just stared back, sleepy red eyes appraising him indifferently.

  Danny sat on the edge of the couch and casually surveyed the room as he heard the big man tapping on a door off the hallway. The door opened and Danny heard hushed voices.

  Slink stepped into the living room.

  Danny’s heart beat faster because of the glaring distrust in Slink’s eyes. He forced a smile, stood up, and held out a hand.

  Slink’s black eyes pierced Danny’s façade, and he only hoped the guilt he felt didn’t show on his face, though he doubted it because every muscle in his body tightened.

  Danny’s hand was still extended when Slink shoved him to the couch and sat in an armchair facing him, ivory grip of his pistol showing above his belt line. “Bernard’s done it this time. What’n the hell he send you down here for?”

  Danny struggled to keep eye contact. “Bernard thought you might come here, so he figured you might need to swap cars. He asked me to bring you your mother’s car. Those people at the church said I was with y’all. . . . and the cops, they came to my house in the middle of the night and tore it apart, so I think Bernard wanted to get me outta town too.”

  “Damn, kid, Danny ain’t it? That’s a helluva mouth full there.”

  Danny gulped and nodded.

  “I see somebody worked you over pretty good. Cops did all that?”

  “Yep.”

  “How come they let you go? That’s quick work. Them bustin’ into your house and kickin’ your butt then letting you go.”

  “My mom called a friend of hers, then the newspaper lady came and took pictures . . . and—”

  “Scared the bastards, huh?” Amusement dissipated some of the suspicion in Slink’s glare.

  “Enough for them to turn me loose.”

  “They roughed you up once before, didn’t they?”

  Confusion crossed Danny’
s face as he tried to decipher Slink’s remark.

  “When they had the SWAT team at Unc’s house? Weren’t you there?”

  “Oh. Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Yeah, I’d climbed in the back window and got the gun away from Bernard so they wouldn’t come in and kill him. Then they busted in and beat on me just to have someone to beat on, I guess.” Danny felt a surge of relief hoping that Slink bringing that up indicated he trusted him.

  “So you and the cops ain’t exactly on speaking terms, huh?”

  “Not hardly. Say, what happened to Caroline and the other girl?”

  “Aw hell, we turned ‘em loose soon as we made sure nobody was chasing us. Too gabby for me. Threatening what her daddy was going to do to us and all that crap.”

  Danny’s mind raced. He would have known if Slink had turned Caroline loose like he said, but he didn’t hear any noises from the rest of the house. Where were Caroline and Brandy? He’d have to stall and hope Slink slipped up. “She wasn’t wrong about that. Her daddy is a crazy son of a gun.”

  “So you know them?”

  “Acquainted with one of them. Caroline. Not big buddies or nothing. Just to say hi when I’d see her at school. That kind of thing.”

  “How you know her daddy then?”

  “Reputation.”

  “He rich like she says?”

  “I guess so. He owns a bunch of pawn shops, bail bond companies. I don’t know what all. You never heard of Jessie Whitaker?”

  “Rings a bell. Never got to know the gal’s last name.”

  Slink looked at Smurf and motioned with his eyes to Danny.

  Smurf’s substantial bulk moved quicker than Danny could react. His giant arms wrapped around Danny and yanked him up.

  “Hey, what the heck are you doing?”

  “Checking you for ordinance,” Slink said.

  Danny put on the most innocent and affronted expression he could muster. “You got to be kidding me. After I take a chance in bringing you another car and you—”

  “Cut the bullshit, kid. You remember the last time I saw you? Bernard didn’t want you to even hang out with me. Now, you come down here with a cock and bull story that Bernard’s willing to get you involved in all this. Shit, my grandma could make up a story better’n that one. As soon as I saw you and remembered your name, I knew why you’re here. See, your girlfriend, Caroline, had a let’s say ‘moment of weakness’ the other day and went to hollering your name, so, when I saw you, I knew you were the Danny she was making a fuss over. Then you said ‘Caroline and the other girl,’ and I knew I was right. Small world, ain’t it? Main question is, what’n the hell did you have planned once you got here?”