Red Curtains

by Leanna Sain

  We turned left again and sped the remaining few feet to the parking area behind the real estate office on the corner. I pressed myself as flat as possible against the wall, trying not to sound like an emphysema patient gasping for breath, heart hammering in my chest. When I finally got my breathing sort of back to normal, I crept into the inky shadows, hands groping ahead of me, to where I knew Jonas had parked his car. I couldn’t see a thing.

  Ouch! I bit my lip to keep from exclaiming aloud.

  I rubbed my knee with one hand and felt the contour of the bumper with the other. Well, at least I found the car. Keeping my hand out to guide me, I limped around to the passenger side. My hand was on the door, ready to open it, when I heard a car door slam up ahead and instantly dropped to my stomach. I knew they couldn’t see us in this black chasm, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  We couldn’t open our car doors and get inside because the interior light would give us away, so we had to wait an eternity and a half for the two sets of taillights to turn right at the end of the alley before we could move.

  I don’t remember actually getting into the car, but I must have, because the very next instant we were turning right too, easing out onto the tree lined road—headlights off. I knew Jonas was trying to merge with the shadows so we wouldn’t attract their attention on this quiet, residential street. I crossed my fingers, hoping that all the city cops were busy elsewhere.

  At a stop sign up ahead, the first car went on around Wright Square, but the second turned right, and stayed straight, heading for Drayton. “He’ll be in the second car. Mark Spencer won’t take a chance getting his hands dirty,” Jonas muttered, flicking on his headlights before turning right to follow the second car. There was a little more traffic now. We’d be able to blend in better. Up ahead, our quarries turned left.

  “Hurry! Don’t lose them!”

  “I won’t.”

  My hands were clamped so tightly on the edge of the seat beside my legs, I was afraid that I might break off chunks of it, but I couldn’t seem to loosen my grip. I was too busy trying to figure out what we were going to do; how we were going to pull this off. These men were going to drop Raymond “at a previously determined spot.” Sounded innocent enough, right? He might not even realize what that meant. Spencer hadn’t really spelled it out. If I didn’t know better, I could even believe that he was giving Raymond a second chance. There were, however, three problems with that line of thinking…the three bloated bodies discovered floating in the river. When I looked at the situation in light of the statistics…well, Raymond’s chances of surviving this nighttime joy ride, didn’t look so hot.

  But what could we do? We had no weapons; nothing to fight with, and I was sure that wasn’t the case for those goons two cars ahead of us. We couldn’t hope to save him…maybe not even ourselves! If it came down to it, I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate to give us a dose of the same medicine they were planning on giving Raymond.

  But we couldn’t just ignore the situation and let them get away with it, not without at least trying to stop them. I didn’t know about Jonas or Lily, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Granted, I may not be able to live, period, but at least I’d know I’d tried. I think there was some famous quote that somebody said about tyranny and good men doing nothing. I was sure Lily probably knew what it was. I’d have to ask her later…if there was a “later.” Now wasn’t the right time.

  I glanced at Jonas. His handsome face looked grim in the light reflected from the dashboard; both of his hands held the steering wheel in a death-grip. “Uh…you have any idea what our next step is?” I asked.

  “Not a clue. I’m sort of making this up as I go.”

  I winced. That was my line. Up ahead, the dark car turned right on busy Bay Street. “Where are they going?” I wondered aloud, not really expecting an answer—Jonas was busy trying to avoid getting caught by red lights; Lily was busy being silent—but I couldn’t seem to keep from asking it anyway.

  We’d just crossed the Wilmington River drawbridge and were headed out Highway 80. I started getting a queasy feeling in my stomach. Right now, there were still several roads our target might choose to turn-off on, but for the most part, this road had one destination: the islands…Oakland, Whitemarsh, Tybee…no farther. Each of them, small slices of coastal real estate, surrounded by nothing but marshes and creeks, a haven for mosquitoes most of the year, but beautiful in a desolate sort of way. One way in; one way out. Raymond’s future wasn’t looking too good.

  But wait! Hadn’t all the other bodies shown up in the Savannah River? This was the wrong direction. Anything dumped out here would only head to the Atlantic, so maybe I was wrong, and there was another reason that dark car was going this way. Without thinking, I blurted, “Ha! I just realized that none of the creeks out here lead in the right direction, so they can’t be planning a body-du—” I broke off when I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lily’s tense face.

  Good move, Cleo! It took all my self-control to keep from banging my forehead against the dashboard.

  There was no need to finish the sentence. The unsaid words hung in the air. They might as well be written in glow-in-the-dark paint. Everybody in the car knew exactly what I had been going to say. On top of that, my logic was flawed. That dark sedan could still be heading somewhere to dispose of a body. Spencer had probably decided to vary his dump-sites to avoid raising suspicions; head them straight to sea rather than through town where they’d be more likely to be discovered. I squirmed a little in my seat, staring blindly at the red tail-lights ahead of us, noting the silver cradle of the new moon suspended in the sky above them. I was desperate for something to erase those invisible—yet very visible—words. “Oh!” I gasped in relief. “They’re getting off on this exit.”

  “Yeah,” Jonas agreed, coming to my aide. “It’s going to be harder to stay inconspicuous from here on out. I better hang back some. The trick will be keeping the right distance between us. Not so far back that I can’t tell where they turn, but not so close that they’ll realize they’re being followed. This “tailing” routine is harder than it looks on T.V.”

  He slowed down so that his car was barely rolling down the exit ramp. I kept my eyes on the dark car ahead of us. It turned right, but instead of picking up speed, the right turn signal stayed on and it turned into the parking lot of a truck-stop. From the end of the ramp, I watched as two men got out of the car and headed into the restaurant part of the station. “Are you kidding me? They’re going to eat? How can they think about food at a time like this?” I demanded. “They have a man locked in their trunk, for heaven’s sakes! And they’re stopping for a late supper?!”

  “Maybe we could get Raymond out while they’re inside.”

  It was the first time I’d heard Lily’s voice since we’d gotten back in the car. It sounded low, but determined. “They parked on the side, not in the front with the rest of the cars. That’s both good and bad for them. Good…to keep from arousing suspicion in case Raymond makes any noise, and bad…because they can’t see the car from inside the restaurant. Maybe we could get the trunk open, get him out, and get away without them even realizing it.”

  Jonas immediately turned right. “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s go.”

  My heart was in my throat again, hammering wildly, causing my breath to come in short, shallow gasps. I hadn’t fully grasped the magnitude of what we were about to do, but I knew enough to realize that we were putting ourselves in a very dangerous situation.

  Jonas wheeled into the spot beside the dark car, and popped his trunk before hopping out. I wasn’t sure my legs could hold me up, but I tried it anyway and managed to wobble around to the back of his car. He was rummaging in a toolbox and withdrew a long screwdriver. “Maybe this’ll work,” he muttered, then turned to me, “Run to the corner of the building and keep a look out for them. Try to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

  “Right! Look-out. Inconspicuous. Got it.” My rubbery legs somehow
carried me to the corner and I peered around it. The instant I gave him a thumbs-up, he rammed the screwdriver into the lock. I winced; waiting for a car-alarm, but amazingly, there wasn’t one. I could see Lily, still in the back seat. Her eyes were closed and her lips were moving. It almost looked like she was praying. I shrugged, remembering the Bible with her name on it. Nothing she did surprised me anymore.

  I gave another glance around the corner.

  Still clear.

  Back to Jonas. He was shoving the screwdriver, first one way, then another, finally down…with all his strength. I could see how much effort he was putting into it by the look on his face in the glow of the lights around the diesel pumps for the eighteen wheelers.

  The latch suddenly gave way and the trunk popped open slightly.

  Jonas hurriedly stuck the screwdriver into his back pocket before swinging the trunk all the way open. My heart was about to explode. I peered around the corner again.

  Still clear.

  Jonas reached into the trunk, grabbed and heaved. When he pulled up the limp form, my heart nearly stopped. Was Raymond already dead? Oh, please no!

  I left my post and raced back to help Jonas. It was like lifting a huge bag of wet cement! Though Raymond wasn’t a big man, his dead-weight was heavier than expected and very unwieldy. We heaved and struggled, awkwardly dragging the body out of the trunk, somehow managing to get it over to Jonas’ car’s back door, which swung open at our approach. Lily reached out to help us, pulling as we pushed, and we stuffed Raymond inside. I rushed around to my door and wrenched it open, expecting Jonas to be doing the same with his. When I didn’t see him, I panicked. Where did he go?!

  Before I could work myself into a tizzy, his head popped up on the other side of his car. “Get in!” he barked, as he tossed the screwdriver into the back and slammed the trunk closed. “Let’s get out of here!”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice.

  I jumped in and our doors banged shut simultaneously. He turned his key and the engine roared to life. I expected him to head back the way we came in, from the front of the restaurant; instead, he zoomed around the rear of the building, coming up on the far side, beside the diesel pumps. He barely paused before making a quick left out onto the road, back under the bridge toward the highway. I kept my eyes trained out the back window, watching for any headlights that appeared to be following us. Amazingly, there weren’t any. But even so, it wasn’t until we got out on Highway 80, heading back to town, that I actually took a breath.

  “How is he?” Jonas asked Lily.

  “He’s breathing. I think they drugged him.”

  Jonas took a deep breath and blew it out. “I can’t believe we pulled that off.”

  “What were you doing back there?” I demanded. “When I turned around and didn’t see you, it freaked me out!”

  “I was trying to give us a little head start. I rammed my screwdriver into both right tires. I figured they had one spare, but not two.”

  I stared at him, wide-eyed. Several emotions fought for first place, but admiration and amazement came out on top. “Are you sure you haven’t done this type of thing before?” I laughed.

  “Nah,” he chuckled. “I just watch a lot of bad guy, suspense-type movies.”

  “Well, I’m impressed.”

  He grinned, then reached over and squeezed my hand. “Good.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jonas

  I had plenty of time to think while Lily and Cleo got a nearly comatose Raymond cleaned up, bandaged, and into bed. We’d taken him to Cleo’s house since no one could come up with a better idea. Though the injuries he sustained at the hands of Mark Spencer’s henchmen didn’t appear to be serious enough to warrant a trip to the ER, they were serious and he deserved better than a blanket in some alley. My apartment wasn’t an option; there was barely even room enough for me. Lily was homeless. The streets were certainly not safe. Actually, when you came right down to it, there really wasn’t a place in all of Savannah where we could be assured of his safety, but as far as we knew, there was no tangible connection between Raymond and Cleo, so we could be relatively certain they wouldn’t think to look here. According to Cleo, no one used the top floor of the house, anyway. Since we didn’t have too many alternatives from which to choose, this seemed like the most sensible one. Perfect.

  Well…almost perfect. In retrospect, maybe Cleo should’ve run it by her housekeeper before showing up at the front door with a mostly unconscious man who left a trail of blood behind him like a macabre version of Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs. I guess you could say that our plan hadn’t gone over too well with Minnie.

  When we’d hauled Raymond out of that trunk, I’d been too busy to pay much attention to how he looked. I’d had other stuff on my mind…like getting the heck out of there before Spencer’s hit men came back. Now that I could see him, well…let’s say it was going to take a while for him to heal. Small wonder he didn’t have any broken bones. Shoot…it’s a wonder he hadn’t been killed.

  For that matter…it’s a wonder we hadn’t all been killed!

  What had I been thinking?! That just because I was one of the ‘good guys’ I’d be okay? That the “black hats” would wind up in jail and everyone would cheer the “white hats” for saving the day? This was real life, not an old John Wayne movie or some police drama on television that they could wrap up in an hour in between commercials. I needed to stop watching so many old NCIS episodes. I was no Jethro Gibbs.

  The threat was out there, on hold, perhaps, but still very, very real. It hadn’t magically gone away just because we’d wrested Raymond from its grasp. Thinking otherwise was wishful thinking. The danger was just skulking…biding its time…waiting for the perfect moment to make its move. There had to be a way to beat this thing, but I was coming up with nothing.

  Wait! Of course! The answer hit me so hard and fast, I felt it vibrating throughout my whole body, like a giant gong had just been struck with an equally giant hammer. I knew what I had to do. It was the only way.

  I also knew Cleo wasn’t going to like it, not one little bit, but that was okay…I wasn’t particularly crazy about the idea, myself. Maybe I just wouldn’t tell her.

  Yeah, right. Even if, by some remote chance, I was able to get away with it, eventually she’d find out and…

  No, I needed to tell her, be up front with her, get it over with. Like yanking off a stuck bandage or pulling a tooth, the quicker the better. Besides, it might not even matter to her. She might not care as much as I hoped.

  That thought depressed me more than it should, but then I thought about her expression when she’d seen Jill’s name on my phone at the restaurant and my spirits buoyed.

  Yeah, she cared. How much? I wasn’t sure yet, but it was enough for now.

  ****

  “I’ve decided to go undercover,” I announced quietly once Raymond was tucked in and down for the night, then waited for her response.

  Nothing. Maybe she hadn’t heard me.

  I glanced at Lily. She was sitting by Raymond’s bedside, holding his hand. If she’d heard, she was ignoring me, or else she was too focused on the invalid to pay much attention to anything else.

  Cleo’s face stayed calm, never changing. She kept right on doing what she was doing as if I hadn’t spoken. Hmmm. Guess I better say it again. I opened my mouth to repeat myself just as she grabbed my arm and practically dragged me out into the hallway. Clearly, I’d been wrong about the “calm” part. It was all a mask, and as soon as the door closed, the mask came off.

  “What, exactly, does that mean?” Her question sounded decidedly ominous.

  “Only that I’m going to disguise myself as a homeless man, get out on the streets and see if Spencer will choose me next.” I was trying to diffuse the situation a little by forcing my voice to sound offhanded, sort of light and airy, like I was talking about the weather or telling her what my favorite color was or that I like mushrooms on my pizza.

  It did
n’t work. Several emotions flitted across her face, incredulity being the most predominant; fury, a close second.

  “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke. It has to be. Nobody would seriously consider such a suicidal mission, not if he or she had a smidgen of intelligence. I thought you were a smart man, but must have been wrong, because I can see by your determined expression, you are, in fact, serious!”

  I nodded.

  “Are you out of your freaking mind?” she whisper-shrieked. “After what happened to those three men they found in the river? After what almost happened to Raymond? Or what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been at the right place at the right time and were able to stop it! Did you hit your head or something? Because you obviously have brain damage. You’re not thinking in a rational manner…or at all!”

  I slipped a hand under her elbow and led her down the hallway to a cushioned bench, tucked into an alcove under a window. When she just stood there—body as stiff and unbending as a flagpole—I turned her around, resisting the nearly overpowering urge to kiss her, and gently pushed on her shoulders until her knees unlocked and she plopped onto the padded seat. I sank down next to her, picking up her hand, lacing my fingers through her icy ones.

  “Do you have a better idea?” I asked gently. “Because if you do, by all means share it with me. I’m not one of those crazies who get their kicks by living life on the edge, flirting with danger, doing everything to the extreme. I’m more an “always wear your seatbelt” kind of guy.”

  All she could do was splutter out partial syllables, words lacking either a beginning or an ending consonant.

  I nodded. “That’s kinda what I thought you’d say.” I traced my finger along the back of her hand, feeling invisible sparks zing at the contact. My heartbeat was chaotic, skipping with some anonymous emotion. “Well…maybe I was expecting a few more actual words.” I gave her a half-grin, drowning in her beautiful eyes.