DF02 - Dead Guilty

by Beverly Connor

  ‘‘I got the stupid idea that I could deal with all of you and not have any witnesses. I didn’t know this place was a hazard waiting for an accident. Why would anyone in their right mind come to a place like this?’’

  ‘‘It’s fun,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘You like it dangerous, huh? I can give you dangerous.’’

  ‘‘Why did you rape Kacie?’’

  ‘‘Why? She had my stone. She belonged to me. That prick of a boyfriend of hers ruined my diamond.’’

  ‘‘You’re some piece of work.’’

  ‘‘Just get us out of this cave. I’ll show you what kind of piece of work I am.’’

  ‘‘He didn’t ruin your diamond, you know. I was told by an expert that it was a superb cut.’’

  ‘‘He took it to an amateur.’’

  ‘‘A very gifted amateur.’’

  ‘‘Well, pardon me.’’

  Diane had a plan, and it seemed like a good one, but it was looking less feasible now that she was alone with him. If she could just play for time. Keep him talking. Slow the pace.

  ‘‘How did you escape from Everett?’’

  ‘‘Being the last in line for the hanging. Wait a min ute. I’m not recognizing any landmarks.’’

  Diane pulled the map from her pocket. ‘‘Would you like to lead?’’

  ‘‘No. Just don’t shit with me or I’ll just cut my losses and shoot you.’’ He grabbed her hair. ‘‘I might fuck you first right here in the cave before I kill you, and I won’t make it fun for you.’’

  ‘‘I’m trying to get us out of here as quickly and safely as I can. Remember, I have friends I’m trying to save too.’’

  ‘‘You just remember that.’’

  ‘‘I will. Tell me the rest of your story.’’

  ‘‘Why? You like to hear me talk?’’

  ‘‘I just want to know what happened. Will it kill you to satisfy my curiosity?’’

  What Diane desperately wanted was to distract him. So far, he proved to be a talker, but it wouldn’t last forever.

  ‘‘Everett Littleton was Judge Roy Bean with a Rube Goldberg device. When we got to Georgia he zapped us, drugged us until we were practically zombies, and stuffed us like sardines in the backseat of his truck. He unhitched the trailer, drove the truck into the woods. First thing he did was tie all the nooses around different tree limbs. Shit, the guy was crazy—all those ropes. He seemed to get some kind of satisfaction out of tying knots. He had this routine he did.’’

  They came to the There Be Dragons Here passage and Diane turned down it and looked at her compass.

  ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He pulled at the compass cord on her neck.

  ‘‘I’m checking the compass reading. You want to get out of here, don’t you? I’ve been doing this the whole time we’ve been walking.’’

  He let go of the cord. ‘‘Why the hell you think this kind of thing is fun is beyond me.’’

  LaSalle continued talking and hadn’t noticed the change of route. She didn’t think he would. All the passages probably looked alike to him. She guessed he had followed their voices and lights to locate them—and he obviously got his hands on a map that had the route marked on it. LaSalle struck her as resourceful.

  ‘‘Everett pulled the first kid out and told her why she was being executed,’’ LaSalle continued. ‘‘Then he cut off her fingers and hauled her up with a winch, her screaming like a wild animal. While she was dan gling in the air, kicking and screaming, he climbed on top of the cab and put the noose around her neck, took off the rope from around her chest that he pulled her up by, and let her swing by the neck. Sick bastard said a prayer. He did the other two kids, one at a time. Each one of them having to watch what he did to the ones before them. By the time he got to me, I’d sobered up and managed to cut my rope on a file he had in the back of the truck. While he was doing the last kid, I got out of the truck and ran for the woods. He looked for me for a long time, but I found the road and got the hell as far away from there as I could. I jacked a car from somebody’s front yard and got back to town. I got even with the son of a bitch, though. I got to slice his throat.’’

  Diane was looking for a place that would put her at an advantage. She would have no more than one chance, and it had to work. She had to surprise him. If she didn’t do it right, he’d kill her and the others. She wasn’t under any delusions that he would let her go. He’d get the diamonds, kill her and come back and kill them. But she needed just the right place.

  This tunnel was looking very different from the ones they had passed through. It was larger, with more breakdown littering the floor. The hydrology that had created it was different, and the shape of the tunnel was different. Would he notice? Diane searched for more conversation.

  ‘‘What happened to Steven Mayberry?’’

  ‘‘Bastard almost got away—still trying to steal my diamonds. He’ll be found by hunters one of these days.’’

  ‘‘How did you know about Chris Edwards and Ste ven Mayberry?’’

  ‘‘I got lucky. I saw them being interviewed on televi sion. I knew that Everett threw the pouch with the rest of the diamonds into the woods. I went back there to look for it, and it was gone. I figured maybe these guys found it. I discussed the possibility with them.’’

  LaSalle stopped suddenly and looked around the tunnel, shining his flashlight on the walls and floor.

  ‘‘Are you trying to distract me? I don’t recognize this place. None of the tunnels were this big. Damn you, bitch, I told you not to shit with me.’’

  He slapped her in the jaw with the side of the flash light. Instead of recoiling, Diane lunged into him with her shoulder. Off balance, he stumbled over a rock, fell and hit his head on the floor. The gun and the flashlight went flying. The cave had done for her what she was searching for a way to do.

  Stunned, he rose to his knees, shaking his head. She switched off her headlamp. He scrambled in the dark for the thing that was most important to him, the thing he thought he couldn’t live without—his gun. Diane scrambled for the thing he needed most in a cave— his flashlight. She got to her prize first and switched it off. They were plunged into absolute darkness. Diane silently picked a path several feet away to a large rock near the entrance to the passage, crouched behind it, and listened. She could hear him feeling for his gun.

  ‘‘Okay. You’ve had your little laugh. Get the fuck over here with the flashlight.’’

  Diane said nothing.

  ‘‘Are you listening to me, bitch! Turn on the goddamn fucking light.’’

  She was silent.

  ‘‘If I have to find you, you won’t like it.’’

  Diane concentrated on breathing softly, hoping he couldn’t hear her, hoping she wouldn’t have to cough or sneeze. She waited, trying not to think of the others.

  ‘‘Okay. You win. I’ll help pull your friend out of the hole she’s in. You know how to make deals. How’s that for a deal?’’

  He was silent for several moments, as if he was waiting for Diane to ponder his offer.

  ‘‘Look, you stupid bitch, you have to get out of here too. Did you think that far ahead?’’

  Yes, thought Diane. I did.

  ‘‘You can’t move. If I hear you I’ll shoot, you have to know that. I’m a pretty good shot. I can aim by sound.’’

  Diane heard him fumbling in the dark. He’d started walking, bumping against the rocks. She picked up a stone and threw it. He didn’t fire.

  ‘‘You didn’t expect me to fall for that old trick, did you?’’

  Diane said nothing. She picked up another stone and threw it. Again, he didn’t fire. This time she rose and slowly slipped out of the passage, and this time he fired—toward her.

  The bullet pinged off the wall and echoed through out the chamber. The cave was cold but she felt sweat trickling down her back and between her breasts. She started to shiver.

  She heard him moving and fumbling through the breakdown. He curse
d and yelled at her. In the dark, her plan seemed to have vanished with the light.

  Focus on the task. You’re a cave creature, she re minded herself.

  Diane stuffed the flashlight in her pocket and felt along the walls, felt the scallops carved by water— steep slope of the scallop upstream. She focused on remembering the cave, the paces, the directions. She moved as quickly as she dared, feeling the wall along the way. The breakdown debris was the hardest. It slowed her passage as she felt for a firm footing with each step.

  She came to a passage and stopped. She fished her small knife out of her jeans pocket and worked on prying the cover off her compass. She fumbled, search ing for a place to put the point of her knife, trying not to slip and stab herself. It was stuck fast.

  She stopped, took a deep breath and tried again. It moved. She stuck the knife in the widening crack, rais ing the cover. She broke it the rest of the way open and felt the compass inside with her fingers.

  ‘‘I’m going to catch you, and when I do, you’ll wish you’d never crossed me. You won’t die quickly.’’

  Diane let her compass rest level for a moment be fore she put her fingertips on it, feeling for the tiny raised arrow painted on one of the hands. She had succeeded in separating LaSalle and herself from her friends for the moment, but what if he found his way back to Mike and the others? There would be lights there. They and she would all be worse off than when they started. She’d promised them they’d be safe.

  Off in the distance she occasionally heard a muffled cry. MacGregor, or Neva maybe. If LaSalle heard it he could home in on it—maybe, or maybe not, but she couldn’t take the chance. If he found the right passage, he might eventually see the glow from their lights, unless they thought to turn them off. Mike might think of it, if he weren’t so injured . . . if he weren’t dead.

  No! she shouted inside her head. You are going to get everyone out of this mess.

  She wondered if she dared turn on the flashlight for just a moment to check her bearings. She leaned against the wall and listened. She heard him in the distance, stumbling over the rocks, cursing under his breath. He was not in this passage. Maybe he would pass it by—more likely he’d take each passage he came to. That plan would eventually lead him into bad trouble.

  She needed to stay far enough away from him to stay out of his hearing but near enough to know the direction he was traveling.

  ‘‘I’ll make you a deal,’’ he shouted. ‘‘I give you my word—on my father’s grave, and I respected my fa ther. Turn on the flashlight and we’ll both get out of here and I’ll go my separate way.’’

  Yeah, right, thought Diane. She listened as he by passed her tunnel and kept going straight. She doubled back, always keeping her hand on the wall, walking as quietly as she could, trying to get behind him. Time was passing, and Mike and Neva didn’t have much of it. She was able to move more quickly than LaSalle. Even her effort to move quietly was faster than his stumbling, angry traverse through the cave.

  She had formed another plan. She didn’t like it, but she saw no other way. If she got close enough, she could hit him hard with a rock, turn on her light and take his gun.

  She was closing the distance behind him. He stum bled and stopped dead still. Had he heard her, smelled her sweat? Her apple-scented shampoo? Was he just resting?

  She stood still, holding her breath for long mo ments. When she did breathe, it was slow and silent. He still hadn’t moved. Was he formulating a plan? He had sensed her somehow. It was a reckless plan she’d come up with.

  He started walking again, but now back from where he had come. He was close now. She remained still and breathless. She heard him fumbling and jangling.

  Almost before it happened, Diane realized what he’d thought of, what she hadn’t thought of. A tiny light flickered, like the tail of a lightning bug. She was face-to-face with the most evil set of eyes she had ever seen.

  Chapter 46

  His breath was hot and angry, and the look in his eyes said he would like to cut her heart out. He put the gun to her head.

  ‘‘Don’t think you can bargain your way out of this. Let me tell you what’s going to happen. We are going to get out of this cave. I’m going to stuff you in the trunk of my car and drive to the museum, and when it’s dark you are going to get my diamonds. You know what happened to little Kacie. That’s nothing com pared to what I have planned for you. You’ll lick my shoes like a dog and beg me to kill you. Then I’m going back and shoot your friends in the head—if they’re not dead already. That is what is going to hap pen, and I’m going to enjoy every second.’’

  He held the gun barrel so hard against her temple it was digging into her flesh. Diane said nothing. Oddly, all her fear had vanished. The rock wall at her back was cold and she felt frozen to it. Her legs were too weak to carry her weight. She wanted just to sit down and wait.... Wait for what?

  He put his key light back in his pocket, grabbed the flashlight sticking from her pocket and switched it on. It flickered a moment, then went out.

  ‘‘Damn, you fucking bitch. Look what you’ve done.’’

  Her body was on some automatic will of its own. It knew what he was going to do before her brain did. She collapsed on her shaking legs just as he rammed his fist against the wall where her head had been. He yelled in pain. She grabbed the chin strap on her hel met, pulled it off her head, struck it hard against the rocks and heard the tinkling of her electric headlamp breaking.

  Diane grabbed the pant leg of his left ankle and stood up, using the power of her legs to lift with all her strength. As his foot came off the ground, he fell backward, grabbing her as he went down. The gunshot exploded loud near her ear and she felt the heat on her cheek. She tried to scramble away, but he pulled her legs out from under her. She felt a hand on her neck, squeezing fingers working their way to her throat. For all his previous grumbling, he was silent now, and that frightened her more. Diane reached out her hand, searching for a rock. They were all over the place—why couldn’t her hand find one?

  She grasped a sharp rock the size of a baseball and clutched it tight, trying to resist his efforts to force her on her back. He flipped her over and she struck with all her strength. He cried out and dropped the gun. She scrambled backwards walking crablike, trying to escape, still holding the rock. He’d let go of her throat, but he held on to her leg. He fished the key light from his pocket and flicked it on, illuminating a tiny area around them. She struck again hard on his temple and grabbed at the light as he fell over.

  Diane squeezed the tiny light to turn it on. He was stunned, but still trying to rise. She turned around, searching for the gun. She saw it, nose down between two rocks. She went for it at the same time LaSalle came around enough to realize he needed to act. He scrambled across the rocks toward her and the gun. Diane put out the light and grabbed the gun. LaSalle swore at the darkness—and Diane.

  ‘‘Okay, you got me,’’ he began, but Diane could hear him moving, trying to regain the advantage.

  She stepped back and squeezed the tiny key light. In the dim glow she could just make out LaSalle rising from the rocks like an evil demon that wouldn’t die. She aimed the gun and shot once—not in the foot, where he had shot MacGregor. She shot him in the ankle where the tibia and fibula joined with the tarsal bones and where several important tendons were bun dled together. He screamed and collapsed. She shot his other ankle, and his cries echoed throughout the chamber. She stood in the darkness listening, without emotion. When his cries died down to curses, she spoke.

  ‘‘Now, let me tell you what’s going to happen. You are going to sit here in the dark and wait for the police to come and haul you to jail. I suggest you don’t try to crawl anywhere, but wrap yourself into a fetal posi tion and stay until they arrive.’’

  ‘‘Don’t leave me here like this.’’

  ‘‘I have no choice. Even if I could carry you, I can’t trust you. I’ll tell them where you are. It shouldn’t be more than a few hours.’’ />
  Diane retrieved her damaged helmet and picked up the flashlight. She shook it and tried the switch. It came on, shining a beam of light on LaSalle.

  ‘‘Let that be a lesson to you.’’

  She left him there calling after her and worked her way through the passages to the mouth of the cave. She retrieved her phone from beneath her driver’s seat and punched in 911.

  Mike looked pale against the white hospital pillow. The bullet had nicked his intestines, but luckily did no organ or spinal damage.

  ‘‘You were caving in the dark? God. What were you thinking—that you could feel your way through the cave?’’ He grinned at her. ‘‘You got guts.’’

  ‘‘I thought I could negotiate in the dark better than he could,’’ Diane said. ‘‘It barely worked.’’

  ‘‘We could hear the gunshots. Didn’t know what to think.’’ He touched the bruise on her face left by the flashlight. ‘‘So how about it, Doc, willing to take care of a wounded friend?’’

  Diane grabbed his hand and held it. ‘‘I think the hospital’s doing a fine job.’’ She paused a moment. ‘‘Mike, I’m sorry.’’

  He put a finger on her lips. ‘‘Not your fault, Doc. It’ll make a good chapter in my caving journal.’’

  MacGregor wheeled in in his wheelchair. Both feet were immobilized in casts and his arm was bandaged. La Salle had shot him in the metatarsal portion of both feet. Bad enough, but they were injuries that were easier to deal with than had he hit the closely packed tarsal bones. Diane had expected MacGregor to be angry and never want to see them again. Instead, he’d bonded. He sat there and grinned at Diane, showing off the autographs on his casts.

  ‘‘The doctor says I’ll be in walking casts real soon. I’ll be ready to go caving with you again in no time.’’

  ‘‘We’ll keep a guard at the entrance next time,’’ said Diane. MacGregor cackled. ‘‘Take care,’’ she said. ‘‘I’m going to check on Neva.’’

  ‘‘She was a real trouper,’’ said Mike. ‘‘Hung on to that rope like you told her to, didn’t complain. That had to be scary.’’