Beyond the Cabin

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Beyond the Cabin Page 13

by Dana Ridenour


  “A cop?” the third man said. “Why do you think she’s a cop?”

  That must be the guy who brought me here. Lexie thought he looked about thirty years old and fit.

  “Why else would she be out here spying on us?” Otis Ray said. “She showed up at the marina a month or so ago and started sticking her nose into other people’s business right off the bat.”

  “She had a camera with her. It’s on the table. I’m not sure if it got busted when she hit the ground.”

  “Search her,” Clay ordered.

  The unknown man bent down so Lexie could get a better view of him. She could see thin white lines of old scars through his buzz cut, blond hair. Both of his arms were heavily inked with tattoos. His only facial hair was light colored stubble from several days of not shaving.

  He gently patted Lexie’s pockets and pulled out a cellphone.

  “Get out of the way, Jack,” Otis Ray said as he shoved the man to the side.

  Otis Ray grabbed Lexie between the legs and searched her crotch area and back pockets. He yanked up her shirt and slid his rough, calloused hands under her bra and over her breasts.

  “We have to make sure she’s not wearing a wire.”

  Otis Ray leaned over and whispered in Lexie’s ear, “Nice titties. I’m gonna get me some of that later on.”

  Lexie tried to speak, but her voice betrayed her. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared.

  Clay reached down and grabbed Otis Ray by the shoulder.

  “Leave her alone. We need to figure out who she is and why she’s here.”

  “Who made you the fucking boss?”

  “Ghost Runner did. You’re just the hired help.”

  “You two snot-nosed brats wouldn’t be anywhere without me and my connections. You need to learn your place, boy.”

  “You need to remember who’s paying for this operation.”

  “Calm down,” Jack said. “Both of you. We need to look through this cell phone and figure out what kind of trouble we’re in.”

  Jack might be the voice of reason with these three, Lexie thought. And who is Ghost Runner?

  ***

  Lexie came to in the same position. The pain had caused her to black out. She didn’t have any idea how long she’d been out, but the nearly unbearable pain in her head continued. Clay and Otis Ray were sitting around a rickety wooden table. She closed her eyes and listened.

  “This whole thing is weird,” Clay said. “She only has a handful of contacts in her phone and it wasn’t password protected.”

  “Why is that weird?” Otis Ray asked. “Maybe she doesn’t have many friends.”

  “Oh, come on. A good-looking girl her age? She should have tons of contacts and social media accounts.”

  “She hangs out with crazy Captain Meade at the marina, that should tell you that she doesn’t have any real friends. He’s in her phone.”

  “Some guy named Logan Burkhart keeps calling her phone. What else do you know about her?”

  “She showed up a few weeks ago at the marina and rented a kayak. After that, she took boating and navigation training from Meade. She claims to be a nature photographer.”

  Clay picked up the camera from the table. The camera made a chiming noise when he turned it on.

  “This is an expensive camera,” he said as he examined the saved photos on the camera.

  “What’s on it?” Otis Ray asked.

  “Mostly photos of birds, but look at this, the last fifty or so shots are of the cabin, the plane, and me walking from the plane. She even took photos of me carrying the duffle bags.”

  “There’s no way we can let her go. We have to kill her and get the hell out of here.”

  “Let’s try to figure out who she’s working for first. Is she a cop or a snitch? She might even be a Fed. We have to find out if anyone knows she was out here.”

  “What does that matter?” Otis Ray said. “Kill her, feed the body to the gators, and the problem is solved.”

  “We will but—”

  The warped door scraped over the floor and startled Clay as Jack entered the cabin.

  “I found her boat.”

  “Where?”

  “I tracked her path starting from where I grabbed her. She hid the boat in the tree line about a half mile from here.”

  “What did you do with it?” Clay asked.

  “I searched it then left it where I found it. I figured the boat was safe there until we figured out what we wanted to do with the girl. I found a copy of the boat registration paperwork and a fishing license in the name of Liam Burkhart.”

  “That’s the last name of the guy who keeps calling the bitch’s phone,” Otis Ray said. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  Jack threw the South Carolina Boater Registration Card on the table.

  “The registration has Burkhart’s address on it. You think we ought to pay this guy a visit?”

  I’ve got to get out of here and warn Logan, Lexie thought.

  Clay got up and paced around the small room. The floorboards creaked under his weight.

  “This is the plan. I’ll contact Ghost Runner and bring him up to speed. He has some kind of police contact who might shed some light on her identity. Jack and I will get the plane out of here. While we’re out, we’ll pay a visit to this Burkhart guy. You stay here and watch the girl. We’ll come back tomorrow with the boat to get you.”

  “I don’t like this plan,” Otis Ray said.

  Clay thrust out his chest.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you like. I’m telling you what’s going to happen. Besides, you can’t be seen around town with your arm in that sling. People will ask questions.”

  “So I’m supposed to stay here and babysit her and hope you two come back for me?”

  “Why wouldn’t we come back? Depending on what we find out from Ghost Runner, we may need to sanitize this cabin and her boat. Don’t kill her until you hear from us.”

  “Why not? She’s never stepping foot off this island.”

  “You heard me.”

  Should I tell them I’m FBI? Lexie wondered. At UC school, we were taught never to give up our real identity unless we thought it might help save our life. The question is, will that buy me time or get me killed sooner?

  Lexie could hear movement and assumed Clay and Jack were gathering their belongings. She continued to play possum. A couple of minutes passed and she heard the scrape of the door.

  Lexie opened her eyes and saw Otis Ray staring at her with a sneer on his face.

  “Rise and shine, sleepy head. We’re finally alone.”

  24

  Lexie slipped in and out of consciousness, so she didn’t know if hours or days had passed. Sunlight peaked through the uneven wood planks on the cabin. The entire left side of her body was numb. She wiggled around and tried unsuccessfully to sit up, which drew the attention of Otis Ray.

  “You need some help, little lady? Glad to see that you’re awake. I was getting lonely.”

  With his uninjured arm, Otis Ray yanked Lexie up into a sitting position and pushed her against the wall. The sudden motion brought on another wave of nausea. She choked down the bile and tried to focus her vision. Otis Ray’s face was a few inches from hers. The stench of his rancid breath made her stomach lurch.

  Otis Ray pulled up a chair in front of Lexie and made himself comfortable. He lit a cigarette and took a drag from it.

  “I think we should talk.”

  “About what?” Lexie said. Her voice hoarse and unrecognizable.

  “Don’t be smug. Who are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. I thought I’d give you the opportunity to plead for your life. Given the way you look, you might kick off before I have a chance to kill you.”

  Otis Ray took another draw from his cigarette and blew the smoke in Lexie’s direction. The nasty smelling smoke filled the small cabin.

  “You know who I am. I’m a photographer. I moved to the area a fe
w months ago. I don’t want any trouble. Let me go and I won’t tell a soul about what’s going on out here.”

  “What do you think is going on out here?”

  Lexie coughed, causing severe pain in her head and ribs.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” she choked out.

  “Oh, come on. What’s your best guess?”

  “Something illegal, I’m sure.”

  Otis Ray chuckled, tossed the remainder of his cigarette on the floor, and snuffed it out using the heel of his boot.

  “How’d you get mixed up with these guys?” Lexie asked.

  “I’m asking the questions, not you.”

  Otis Ray stood, reached into his boot, and pulled out a tactical folding knife. He sneered at Lexie as he flicked it open using one hand. He squatted down next to Lexie and pressed the sharp point below her eye. Lexie felt a bead of blood drip down her face.

  “You best be nice to me or I’ll take you apart piece by piece.”

  “You can save yourself, Otis Ray. You haven’t done anything wrong. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t tell anyone. You see, you’re not getting off this island alive.”

  Otis Ray lightly slid the knife down Lexie’s face and rested it at the base of her throat.

  “I’ve got plans for you before I gut you like a hog.”

  The salt from a tear burned the puncture below her eye.

  Otis Ray stood up and laughed.

  “But not until after I’ve had my coffee.”

  He folded the knife against his leg and returned it to his pocket.

  “I want to get to know you before I kill you.”

  ***

  Lexie raised her head and opened her eyes when she heard the scrape of the door. Otis Ray had left the cabin.

  Think fast. You probably only have a minute or two. You need something sharp, Lexie. You have to find a way to cut the rope.

  Lexie frantically looked around the cabin. Still seated on the ground, it was difficult to see anything above chair height. A rusty kerosene lantern hung from a hook near the door. She spotted an old butcher knife on a plywood shelf with the plates, but she was too far away to get to it.

  Look on the floor. There has to be something on the floor to use.

  A few feet away, abandoned in the corner, sat an old tackle box.

  There has to be something sharp in there.

  Lexie dragged herself the three feet, the pain in her head causing severe dizziness.

  Don’t pass out. This might be my only chance. Be strong.

  The tackle box only had one fastener. Lexie backed up to it and was able to open it. Twisting her neck to view the contents caused excruciating pain, but Lexie wasn’t about to give in to the pain. There were hooks, lures, and extra line on the top layer. With a little work, Lexie lifted the top layer to get to the second tier. There, she found a set of needle nose pliers, nail clippers, and small pocket knife.

  A surge of adrenaline rejuvenated her. She fumbled around until she grabbed the knife. She closed the tackle box lid when she heard the thump of footsteps outside the door.

  Otis Ray dropped a load of wood next to the stove. He shot a look in Lexie’s direction. She managed to get close to her original position.

  “I’m gonna cook me up some fish that I caught yesterday. I’d offer you some, but you look like you’re ready to hurl. Not sure fish will do you any good.”

  Otis Ray turned and Lexie caught a glimpse of a gun in his waistband. He grabbed a half full bottle of Jack Daniels from the shelf, opened it, and took a swig.

  “I caught these here yesterday, but you showed up and ruined my chances of some good eating.”

  “Sorry,” Lexie said.

  “I don’t think you are.”

  Otis Ray used a few pieces of his wood and started a small fire in the stove. He pulled his fish from the cooler in the corner.

  “Good thing I’m hungry. No more ice in the chest. Guess I’ll have to eat it all up before it goes bad.”

  The smell of fish frying turned Lexie’s stomach. While Otis Ray was busy preparing his feast and drinking his whiskey, Lexie opened the small knife and went to work on the rope.

  Otis Ray plated his food then pulled up a chair in front of Lexie, which forced her to stop working on the rope.

  “Let’s talk,” he said. “You still haven’t told me who you are or what you’re doing spying on us.”

  Grease rolled down Otis Ray’s grimy chin as he talked and chewed at the same time.

  “Your partner seems to think I’m a cop or a Fed. What do you think?”

  “That dipshit pilot? Why, he hasn’t got the sense God gave a goose. I wouldn’t trust anything that he has to say.”

  “He’s your boss, right?”

  Otis Ray stopped shoving food in his mouth and glared.

  “He ain’t my boss. I don’t have a boss.”

  “He thinks he’s your boss.”

  “He’s just some rich snot-nosed brat living off daddy’s money. I’m using him for that damn plane.

  “Yeah. I’ve known a few of those guys, too. He thinks that because he has money he can order you around like a slave.”

  “I’m not stupid, girl. I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “What? I’m making conversation.”

  “Quit changing the subject and tell me what you’re doing out here.”

  “I was on the island taking photos when I heard that plane land. I wanted to see what was going on. In addition to being a photographer, I’m also a freelance reporter. So, I was looking for my next story.”

  “That just don’t add up. I know you’ve been snooping around asking questions about the seaplane. You’re a nosy little bitch.”

  “Comes with the territory. I’m always looking for a story.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “What if I told you that your buddy was correct and I’m an FBI agent?”

  Otis Ray tilted his head back and laughed.

  “You. An FBI agent. That’s funny. Maybe a local cop or a snitch, but you ain’t no FBI agent.”

  “Why not?”

  “For one, you ain’t big enough to be a Fed. For two, you ain’t smart enough.”

  “This coming from a guy using ain’t.”

  Lexie knew that she made a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

  Otis Ray stood and tossed his plate on the table with his good hand. He charged over to Lexie, drew back his hand, and slapped her across the face.

  A sharp pain radiated through Lexie’s face. Tears welled up in her eyes. She straightened her head and looked Otis Ray in the eyes. His eyes were so wide that the whites of his eyes showed all around his pupils.

  “You saying I’m stupid?”

  “No. No. I’m … I’m sorry.”

  “I’m gonna make you sorry.”

  Otis Ray grabbed Lexie by the hair and wrenched her neck so she had no choice but to look him in the eyes.

  “When I’m finished with you, you’re gonna wish you were dead.”

  Lexie sucked in quick, shallow breaths.

  Otis Ray threw her head forward and released the hold on her hair.

  “Fucking bitch.”

  He picked up the plate of food on the table and flung it across the room, hitting the wall over Lexie’s head. The hard plastic plate bounced off the wood, leaving pieces of slimy fish running down the wall.

  Lexie’s phone chimed, indicating a text message.

  “Let’s see who’s looking for you.”

  Otis Ray pushed buttons until he found the message.

  “Looks like Logan has been waiting for you over an hour. Who’s Logan?”

  “He’s a friend. We’re supposed to take some photos today.”

  “Is that so?”

  Lexie nodded.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  Otis Ray walked over and squatted next to Lexie. He ran his hand between Lexie’s legs and squee
zed.

  “Has Logan got him some of this?”

  Lexie’s limited mobility didn’t allow her to escape his grasp. Otis Ray licked his lips and released his hold on Lexie. He walked back over to the shelf where he found a hammer. He fondled the tool and glared at Lexie. With one strike he brought the hammer down, shattering the phone, causing Lexie to jump.

  “You won’t need a phone where you’re going.”

  25

  Lexie heard Otis Ray snoring. She took advantage of the dark cabin to work on freeing herself from the ropes. Her wrists burned from the friction of the rope as she sawed with the small dull knife. She knew that if she couldn’t free herself, then she didn’t have any chance of surviving.

  She worked through the night, stopping only when she had to give her cramping hand a break. She broke through the last strand of the chafing rope at dawn. She picked at the knot that bound her feet. The snoring stopped as Lexie finally freed herself. She heard a shuffling sound, so she quickly wrapped the restraints back around her legs to make it appear as if she were still tied.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Lexie opened her eyes and found Otis Ray crouched in front of her. His horrible, sour breath smelled like death.

  “Wake up, sleepy head.”

  Lexie straightened up, careful not to reveal her free state.

  “Water,” she said. “Could I have some water?”

  Her cracked, swollen lips made her wince with pain. Otis Ray disregarded her request at first, but then changed his mind. He poured some water into a cup and held it to Lexie’s lips. She drank the cup dry.

  “Thank you.”

  Otis Ray started a fire in the stove and fixed himself a pot of coffee.

  “You drink coffee?” he asked.

  Lexie perked up.

  “Yes. I’d love some coffee.”

  “Oh, I’m not offering you any. I just wanted to know.”

  Lexie slumped back down.

  “Asshole,” she mumbled.

  Otis Ray laughed.

  “I’ve been called a lot worse than that.”

  “What happened to your arm?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  Otis Ray cocked his head and peered at Lexie.

 

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