Where secrets live, p.26
Where Secrets Live, page 26
“In my pocket.”
“Take it out and throw it in the lake.”
I did as I was told. He gestured toward the boathouse with his gun. “In there.”
Amanda went in first and I followed her. Except for the light that seeped in through the cracks in the sides from the rotting wood, the boathouse was losing daylight quickly.
David pushed the gun into my ribs again. “Over there,” he said.
On the far wall, where part of the structure overhung the water, was a wooden bench. Amanda and I stepped gingerly over the wooden planks and sat down on the bench. There were coils of rope on the floor. David kicked them toward me. “Tie her up,” he said to me, “hands behind her back.”
Amanda turned her back to me, and I started tying her up.
“Make it tight,” David said.
I pulled the rope tight and Amanda flinched. “Sorry,” I said and patted her arm.
David checked the ropes on Amanda’s wrists. “Now you.” He motioned for me to turn around and pulled the rope so tight, it cut into my flesh. “Now sit.”
I sat next to Amanda, and he tied my left ankle to her right and looped the rope around one of the legs of the bench. She was trembling, and I wanted to reassure her, but what could I say that would make any of it better?
David pulled at the rope around our ankles, to make sure it was secure, then stood up, red-faced and wheezing. “I’m going to be right outside,” he said. “No talking, no yelling, or I’ll be back and one of you gets shot.”
Amanda whimpered and leaned into me. I waited until David was outside. “We’ll be okay,” I whispered. “A friend of mine is coming.”
She looked at me and shook her head, then nodded toward the door.
I could hear David’s heavy breathing move farther and farther away. Then the door to the house slammed shut. I really hadn’t thought he’d spend the night outside the boathouse.
“He’s in the house,” I whispered.
She bent over and whispered in my ear. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’m so sorry about this, Amanda. I’m sorry for all of it, and I’m sorry for what David did to you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “He didn’t do—you know. I mean, he sort of, you know, touched me. But …”
The light in the boathouse was fading fast, I could still see her eyes when she looked at me. “You’re sure? You can tell me, you don’t have to be embarrassed. He did things to a lot of girls—even Meredith.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
She put her head down. “He really didn’t do, you know, that to me. But he did to a friend of mine.”
God, I wanted to kill that bastard! But first I had to get us out of here.
“I think Meredith knew,” she whispered in the dark. “She started this group, and she was trying to talk to us about stuff like that and how we should, you know, tell someone.”
“Did you ever tell anyone?”
She whimpered. “No. He said he’d hurt my family. Maybe kill them or make my dad lose his job. I didn’t know what to do.” She started to cry.
I let her cry for a while. When she finally wound down, I said, “I need you to listen to me, Amanda, and I need for you to try to be brave.”
She looked up at me. “Okay.”
“A friend of mine is coming, but we can’t wait. We need to try to get out of this. Are you with me?”
“Okay,” she said again, but her voice was trembling. I knew we had to move quickly or I’d lose her.
I looked around the boathouse for something—anything—that would help. “Any ideas?” I asked.
“Maybe we could, you know, try to untie each other’s hands.”
“Good plan.” It was hard to do with one foot tied to the other and both our ankles secured to the bench. After a couple of minutes, we were able to maneuver our free legs over the back of the bench, so that we were sitting back to back.
Still, it was a challenge, not being able to see what we were doing, both of us fumbling with the rope and our hands getting in the way of one another.
“We need to do this differently,” I told her. “Let me untie you first, and then you can untie me.”
It was easier with only two hands moving than it was with four. I tried to recall how I’d tightened and threaded the rope around her wrists, then tried to do it in reverse. Five minutes passed, and I finally felt the knot loosen. I kept going until the rope fell away.
Amanda swung her free leg over the front of the bench.
“Untie our feet,” I said.
She bent over, struggling with the knots that David had tightened so securely.
“Wow,” she said, “this is really tight.” She rubbed her fingers on her skirt and started the process all over again.
She was breathing hard, all bent over, while I listened for David. I really needed to get her out of here.
“I got it,” she said, and I felt the rope loosen around my ankle.
“Turn around,” she said, “I’ll untie you.”
I turned my back to her, but I could tell she was struggling again with the knots. She’d just loosened them enough that blood was starting to flow back into my fingers, when I heard the door slam at the house.
“You have to go now, Amanda,” I said. “David’s coming and I don’t want you here.”
“No. I can’t leave you.”
“Listen to me,” I whispered in the dark. “You need to get out of here, and we don’t have much time. Do you have a cell phone?”
She shook her head. “My mom won’t let me have one.”
“Okay, listen. Go out through the door behind us. There’s a walkway over the water around the boathouse. When you get out the door, turn to the left, away from the house. You can jump onto the beach once you get to that side of the building, then circle around the house and head for the road. Don’t stop until you find another house and have them call the police.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Then this is where you need to be brave. David’s an old man. You can outrun him, but you have to go now, before he gets here.”
Even in the dark, I could see the terror in her eyes. Then she took a deep breath, stood up, and slipped out the door for the boat launch. Minutes later, David came into the boathouse, carrying a battery-operated lantern in one hand, the gun in his other.
“Where is she?” he shouted at me.
“Long gone,” I said.
He moved quickly across the planks and backhanded me across the face with his gun hand. The taste of blood filled my mouth.
David noticed the open boat launch door and walked over to it with his lantern, then stepped out onto the planks. I wriggled a hand out of the rope, but kept both hands behind my back.
He stepped back into the boathouse and pointed the gun at my head. Now all I could hope for was that Amanda had run like hell, and Edman was on his way.
CHAPTER
28
HE MOVED IN front of me, waving the gun in my face. “Where is she? When did she leave?”
“It doesn’t matter, David. She’s gone for help. This is over now.” My voice was calm, trying to placate a wild man who had nothing left to lose.
He paced back and forth. I slipped my other hand free, careful not to let the heavy rope fall to the floor with a thud.
He bent down and reached for the rope that had tied my ankle to Amanda’s, looping it around the bench and my leg, pulling it tight. I thought about trying to overpower him, kicking him in the head, but realized my chances would be better once he left. If he was tying me to the bench, he wasn’t planning on shooting me—yet.
He stood and walked toward the door.
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked.
“We’re leaving. I need to get some things together.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Something moved outside, the sound of footsteps on gravel—we both heard it. David looked at me, motioned for me to be quiet, then pointed the gun at me just to be sure I understood what would happen if I called for help.
He opened the door and stepped quietly outside, leaving me again in darkness. My mind started to reel. What if it was Amanda, coming back for me? Or Scott or Dana? The last thing I wanted was for any of them to get hurt—or worse. David was crazy.
I could hear him outside, moving closer to the house. My hands wiggled out of the rope and I bent over to untie my ankle again when the door to the boat launch opened. Tom came in, putting a finger to his lips, as if I had to be told not to make a sound.
“You okay?” he whispered, kneeling in front of me.
“Yes. What are you doing here?”
“Edman called me. He was out here earlier, and you were gone. He told me that you were with David and you were in trouble.”
“Where’s Edman now?”
“I don’t know. Fred’s around here somewhere, I think in the house.”
Tom put his gun down, took a knife out of his pocket, and started sawing through the rope. I didn’t hear David come in. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway, holding a wooden oar over his shoulder like a baseball bat. Two quick steps and he swung hard at Tom’s back, landing a blow between his shoulder blades. Tom fell into my knees with a grunt, and David stepped back, ready to strike again.
Tom reached for his gun. David hit him again, this time in the back of the head. Tom fell against the floorboards.
David raised the oar again.
I looked down at Tom, unconscious at my feet, blood pooling on the floor around his head. “Don’t,” I shouted. David stopped and looked at me.
“What are you going to do, David? Kill us all like you killed my sister?” My voice shook more from anger than fear.
“What are you talking about?” his voice was hoarse. “I didn’t kill Meredith. I would never have hurt her. I loved her. She was such a beautiful child …”
The sound that came out of my throat was anything but human. The rope that had tied my hands dropped to the floor, I pulled my ankle free, stood, and bent into a tackle, hitting him hard in the gut with my right shoulder. He landed on his back. His head hit the floor with a loud whack. I crawled on top of him, pounding his chest with a strength I didn’t know I had. Sweat ran down my face, into my eyes. I kept punching.
An arm went around my waist and pulled me off. I fought the arm. It tightened its hold. “Stop now, Lizzie,” Fred said. I flailed against him. The pressure from his arm grew stronger, until I thought I couldn’t breathe. “Stop. It’s over. It’s okay.”
The anger, the hatred that I felt slipped out of me. I felt like a ragdoll in Fred’s arms. If he let go, I’d fall to the floor next to Tom.
“It’s okay,” he said again.
I leaned my head back into his shoulder, tried to catch my breath. Then I pulled away from him and knelt down next to Tom, searching for a pulse, listening to his breathing. Fred knelt next to me. He pulled some tissues out of his pocket and pressed them against the back of Tom’s head, where the blood was running out.
“Hold this,” Fred said, putting my hand on the tissues. “Keep some pressure on it. I’m going to call for an ambulance.” He reached in his pocket for his cell phone.
Neither of us noticed David until he was standing over us, his gun pointed at Fred.
“Put the phone down,” David said to Fred.
Fred placed his phone on the floor. Tom’s gun was six inches from my hand, I reached for it slowly. There was a shot, the bullet splintered the wood, halfway between my fingers and Tom’s gun.
“Get up,” David said.
We both stood. He aimed the gun at Fred’s head. “Kick that gun and your cell phone out into the lake.”
Fred maneuvered the gun and cell phone with his foot toward the door of the boat launch and poised to kick them both out the door into the water when the door on the other side of the boathouse flew open, banging against the wall. Edman moved in, a gun pointed at David’s back.
David swung around, aiming the Glock at Edman’s chest. He smiled. “Looks like we have a Mexican standoff here.”
When had this become a game?
“Drop the gun,” Edman said. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”
“I could put a bullet in your heart before you could even pull the trigger. I’m an expert marksman,” David said.
Edman lowered his gun eight inches and pulled the trigger. A bullet hit the floor right in front of the toes on David’s left foot. “So am I,” he said. “Drop the gun.”
Fred bent down and picked up Tom’s service revolver and pointed it at David. “And, so am I.” Another bullet whizzed through the air, landing an inch behind the heel of David’s left foot.
Everyone stood their ground.
Finally, David lowered his gun to his side. “Okay,” he said. He did a clumsy half squat, placing the gun on the floor next to him, then stood back up, putting his hands over his head.
Edman took a step toward David. Then a shot came from the doorway of the boathouse, past Edman’s right bicep and straight into David’s chest. David’s eyes flew open, and he grabbed his chest and slumped to the ground.
Edman swung around pointing his weapon toward the door.
John stood in the doorway, his revolver still aimed at David. Tears ran down his face, and then he started to sob—gut-wrenching cries that shook his entire body. He fell to his knees. No one moved.
It felt as if time had stopped. The air stilled. The water lapping at the boathouse ceased. It took a beat to register what had just happened.
John was moaning. “I heard …” he said. “I heard what he did to her. Oh God!”
And still no one moved.
For the second time in one day, I saw Edman unsure of what to do. Finally, he bent down next to John, removed the gun from his hand, and patted his shoulder. Then he moved over to David, feeling for a pulse.
John’s cries subsided. He sat up and looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Liz. I’m so sorry. I don’t care if I spend the rest of my life in prison. It’s what I deserve. I should have known what he was doing. I should have protected her.”
Edman stood up. “No, that’s not going to happen.”
Fred looked at Edman. “What are you saying?”
“Who are we kidding? John did what we all wanted to do. He’s not going to jail for that. Give me a hand here.”
Edman and Fred squatted next to the body. “Help me sit him up.”
It wasn’t easy to get David’s pudgy body upright. Edman took a handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to pick up the Glock. Not touching the gun with his hand, he placed it in David’s hand, wrapping his fingers around the handle, threading his index finger around the trigger.
“Hold his arm steady,” he said to Fred, pointing it at the wall, where John had been. Edman put his finger over David’s trigger finger and squeezed. Another shot in the small boathouse, hitting the wall almost shoulder height.
“Not perfect, but I think it’ll do,” Edman said. “David has gun residue on his hands, and we know that John had to shoot him in self-defense.”
Edman looked at John. “And you have three eyewitnesses.”
John stood. His legs wobbled, but he caught himself against the wall.
I looked at Edman. “We need to go, and Tom needs to get to a hospital.”
He nodded. “Okay. Fred, call the cops and the paramedics.”
I told Fred to tell the cops to be on the lookout for Amanda, then bent down and stroked Tom’s hair.
He opened his eyes and I kissed him. “The paramedics will be here soon. I have to leave. Fred will be here with you.”
He reached for my hand, but there was so little strength in his grasp. “Don’t go.”
I kissed him again. “I have to.”
* * *
We took Edman’s car. Some kind of numbness had settled over me. I was on autopilot, which was maybe a good thing: there wasn’t much more I could process.
Edman had been talking into his cell. He hung up and put it on the console.
“Are they coming?” I asked.
“They’ll be there when we get there.”
I looked out the window.
“Hell of a day,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Want to quit?”
“Nope.”
We rode in silence for about five minutes. “Where were you all day?” I asked.
“I told you, we got caught up at the bank. Harry had to do some fancy footwork to get everything processed, but he did. Then there was that pile-up on the freeway. By the time I made it out to your sister’s, you were gone—scared the shit out of me. I hung around for a while, then called Tom and Fred. I drove around looking for you and then ended up back at the lake.”
I looked at Edman. “David said he didn’t kill Meredith.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know.”
A panel truck and three pickups were parked in the street in front of Ruth’s house when we pulled into the circular drive. Five men leaned up against the vehicles, and they were huge. Tattoos fought for space against the massive muscles that ran up and down their arms and across their chests.
One of the men broke away from the group when we got out of the car. He had a braid halfway down his back and was wearing sunglasses in the waning light. He walked over to Edman and shook his hand.
“Hey, bro, we weren’t sure this was the place,” he said.
“This is it,” Edman said. He introduced me to the man, whose name was Lester. I smiled when I heard that. I’d been expecting Mad Dog or the Pulverizer or something equally intimidating. Lester slid his sunglasses down his nose and looked at me over the top. I stopped smiling.
“What now?” Edman asked me.
“I need to do this alone. Wait outside.”
I think he was going to protest, but he did as I asked. He and Lester planted themselves up against Edman’s car. “I’ll be here when you need me,” he said.
I opened the front door and stood listening. Listening for anything that would remind me of home. But it wasn’t there, and I knew in that moment that I could wait for the rest of my life, but it would never be there again.
