Cook,Robin - Mortal Fear.txt
Page 25
"You have to try this, Jason," she said. "I almost caught a salmon."
"The salmon don't bite here," Jason said. "It must have been a trout."
Carol looked disappointed.
Jason studied her lovely, high-cheekboned face. If his original premise
was correct, the salmon heads had to have been associated with Hayes's
attempts to create a monoclonal antibody. But how could that help
Carol's beauty as Hayes had told her? It didn't make any sense.
"I guess it doesn't matter whether it's trout or salmon," Carol said,
turning her attention back to her fishing. "I'm having fun."
A circling. hawk -plunged down into the shallow water and tried to grasp
one of the dying salmon with its talons, but the fish was too big and
the bird let go and soared back into the sky. As Jason watched, the
salmon stopped struggling in the water and died.
"I got one!" Carol cried as her pole arched over.
The excitement of the catch cleared Jason's mind. He helped Carol land a
good-sized trout-a beautiful fish with steely black eyes. Jason felt
sorry for it. After he'd gotten the hook out of its lower lip, he talked
Carol into throwing it back into the water. it was gone in a flash.
For lunch they walked along the banks of the widened river to a rocky
promontory. As they ate, they could not only see the entire expanse of
the river, but, the snow-capped peaks of the Cascade Mountains. It was
breathtaking.
It was late afternoon when they started back to the Salmon Inn. As they
passed the cabin they saw another large fish in its death throes. It was
on its side, its glistening white belly visible.
"How sad," Carol said, gripping Jason's arm. "Why do they have to die?"
Jason didn't have any answers. The old cliche, "It's nature's way,"
occurred to him, but he didn't say it. For a few moments they watched
the once magnificent salmon as several smaller fish darted over to feed
on its living flesh.
"Ugh!" Carol said, giving Jason's arm a tug. They continued walking. To
change the subject, Carol started talking about another diversion the
hotel had to offer. it was white-water rafting. But Jason didn't hear.
The horrid image of the tiny predators feeding from the dying larger
fish had started the germ of an idea in Jason's mind. Suddenly, like a
revelation, he had a sense of what Hayes had discovered. It wasn't
ironic-it was terrifying.
The color drained from Jason's face and he stopped walking.
"What's the matter?" Carol asked.
Jason swallowed. His eyes stared, unblinking.
"Jason, what is it?"
We have to get back to Boston," he said with urgency in his voice. He
set off again at a fast pace, almost dragging Carol with him.
"What are you talking about?" she protested.
He didn't respond.
"Jason! What's going on?" She jerked him to a stop.
"I'm sorry," he said, as if waking from a trance. "I suddenly have an
idea of what Alvin may have stumbled onto. We have to get back."
"What do you mean-tonight?"
"Right away."
"Now wait just a minute. There won't be any flights to Boston tonight.
It's three hours later there. We can stay over and leave early in the
morning if you insist."
Jason didn't reply.
"At least we can have dinner," Carol added irritably.
Jason allowed her to calm him down. After all, who knows? I could be
wrong, he thought. Carol wanted to discuss it, but Jason told her she
wouldn't understand.
"That's pretty patronizing."
"I'm sorry. I'll tell you all about it when I know for sure.
By the time he had showered and dressed, Jason realized Carol was right.
If they'd driven to Seattle, they'd have gotten to the airport around
midnight Boston time. There wouldn't have been. any flights until
morning.
Descending to the dining room, they were escorted to a table directly in
front of the doors leading to the veranda. Jason sit Carol facing the
doors, saying she deserved the new. After they'd been given their menu,
he apologized for acting so upset and gave her full credit for being
right about not leaving immediately.
"I'm impressed you're willing to admit it," Carol said.
For variety, they ordered tr4ut instead of salmon, and in place of the
Washington state wine, they had a Napa Valley chardonnay. Outside, the
evening slowly darkened into night and the lights went on at the docks.
Jason had trouble concentrating on the meal. He was beginning to realize
that if ' his theory was correct, Hayes had been murdered and Helene had
not been the victim of random violence. And if Hayes was right and
someone was using his accidental and terrifying discovery, the result
could be far worse than any epidemic.
While Jason's mind was churning, Carol was carrying on a conversation,
but when she realized he was off someplace, she reached across and
gripped his arm. "You are not eating," she said.
Jason looked absently at her hand on his arm, his
plate, and then Carol. "I'm preoccupied, I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter. If you're not hungry, maybe we should go and find
out about flights to Boston in the morning."
"We can wait until you're through eating," Jason said.
Carol tossed her napkin on the table. "I've had more than enough, thank
you."
Jason looked for their waiter. His eyes roamed the room and then
stopped.
They became riveted on a man who had just entered ' the dining room and
paused by the maltre d's lectern. The man was slowly scanning the room,
his eyes moving from table to table. He was dressed in a dark blue suit
with a white shirt open at the collar. Even from the distance, Jason
could tell the man wore a heavy gold necklace. He could see the sparkle
from the over head lights.
Jason studied the man. He looked familiar, but Jason couldn't place him.
He was Hispanic, with dark hair and deeply tanned skin. He looked like a
successful businessman. Suddenly, Jason remembered. He'd seen the -face
on that awful night when Hayes had died. The man had been outside the
restaurant and then outside the Massachusetts General Hospital
emergency room.
Just then the man spotted Jason, and Jason felt a sudden chill descend
his spine. It was apparent the man recognized Jason because he
immediately started forward, his right hand casually thrust into his
jacket pocket. He walked deliberately, closing the distance quickly.
Having just thought of Helen Brennquivist's murder, Jason panicked. Hi$
intuition told him what was coming, but he couldn't move. All he could
do was look at Carol. He wanted to scream and tell her to run, but he
couldn't.
He was paralyzed. Out of the comer of his eye, he saw the man round the
nearby table.
"Jason?" questioned Carol, tilting her head to one side.
The man was only steps away. Jason saw his hand come out of his pocket
and the glint of metal as his hand covered the gun. The sight of the
weapon finally galvanized Jason into action. In a sudden explosion of
activity, he snatched the t
ablecloth from the table, sending the dishes,
glasses, and silverware flying to the floor. Carol leaped to her feet
with a scream.
Jason rushed the man, flinging the tablecloth over his head, pushing him
backward into a neighboring table and knocking it over in a shower of
china and glass. The people at the table screamed and tried to get away,
but several were caught in the tangle of overturned chairs.
In the commotion, Jason grabbed Carol's hand and yanked her through the
doors to the porch. Having managed to break his panic-filled paralysis,
Jason was now a torrent of directed action. He knew who the
Hispanic-looking businessman had been: the killer Hayes claimed was on
his trail. Jason. had no doubt his next targets were Carol and himself.
He pulled Carol down the front steps, intending to run around the hotel
to the parking lot. But then he realized they'd never make it. They had
a better chance running for one of the boats at the dock.
"Jason!" Carol yelled as he changed direction and dragged him down the
lawn. "What's wrong with you?"
Behind them, Jason could hear the doors to the dining room crash open,
and assumed they were being chased.
When they reached the dock, Carol tried to stop. "Come on, dammit,"
Jason shouted through gritted teeth. Looking back at the inn, he could
see a figure run to the porch railing, then start down the stairs.
Carol tried to jerk her hand free, but Jason tightened his clasp and
yanked her forward. "He wants to kill us!" he shouted. Stumbling ahead,
they raced to the end of the dock, ignoring the rowboats. Jason shouted
to Carol to help untie three of the rubber boats and push them off. They
were already drifting downstream by the time their pursuer hit the dock.
Jason helped Carol into the fourth boat and scrambled after her, pushing
them away from the dock with his foot. They too drifted downstream,
slowly at first, then gathering speed. Jason forced Carol to lie down,
then covered her body with his own.
An innocent-sounding pop was immediately followed by a dull thud
somewhere in the boat. Almost simultaneously there was the sound of
escaping air. Jason groaned. The man was shooting at them with a
silenced pistol. Another pop was followed by a ringing sound as a bullet
ricocheted off the outboard motor, and another made a slapping sound in
the water.
To Jason's relief, he realized the rubber boat was compartmentalized.
Although a bullet had deflated one section, the boat wouldn't sink. A
few more shots fell short, then Jason heard a thump of wood agains t the
dock.
Jason lifted his head cautiously and looked back. The man had pulled one
of the canoes from the rack and was pushing it into the water.
Jason was again gripped with fear-the man could paddle much faster than
they were drifting. Their only chance was to start the motor-an old
fashioned outboard with a pull cord. Jason shifted the gear lever to
"start" and tugged the cord. The engine didn't even turn over. The
killer had already boarded the canoe and was starting toward them. Jason
pulled the cord again: nothing. Carol lifted her head and said
nervously, "He's getting closer."
For the next fifteen seconds, Jason frantically jerked the starter cord
over an dover. He could see the silhouette of the oncoming canoe moving
silently through the water. He checked to make sure the lever was at
"start," then tried again without success. His eyes drifted to the gas
tank, which he prayed was full. Its black cap appeared to be loose, so
he tightened it. Just to its side was a button he guessed was to
increase pressure in the tank. He pushed it a half dozen times, noticing
that it became increasingly harder to depress. Looking up again, he saw
the canoe was almost to them.
Grasping the starter cord again, Jason pulled with all his strength. The
motor roared to life. Then he reached for the lever and pushed it to
"reverse," as they were floating downstream backward. He jammed the
throttle forward and threw himself back onto the bottom of the boat,
pinning Carol beneath him. As expected, there were several more shots,
two of which hit the rubber boat. When Jason dared to look out again,
the gap had widened. In the darkness, he could barely see the canoe.
"Stay down," he commanded to Carol, while he checked the extent of the
damage. A section of the right side of the bow was soft, as was a
portion of-the left gunwale. Otherwise the boat was intact. Moving back
to the outboard, Jason cut the throttle, put the motor into "forward,"
then angled the tiller to head downstream, steering out to the center of
the river. The last thing he wanted to do was hit rocks.
"Okay," he called to Carol. "It's safe to sit up."
Carol rose gingerly from the -bottom of the boat and ran her fingers
through her hair. "I really don't believe this," she shouted over the
noise of the outboard. "Just what the hell are we going to do?"
"We'll head down river until we see some lights. There's got to be plenty
of places along here."
As they motored along, Jason wondered if it would be safe to stop at
another dock. After all, their pursuer might get into his car and drive
along the river. Maybe there's a light on the opposite side, he thought.
From the silhouettes of the trees lining the lakelike expanse of the
river, Jason could gauge their speed. It seemed to be about a fast walk.
He also had the feeling the river was again gradually narrowing,
especially when it appeared that their speed was increasing. After a
half hour, there were still no lights. Just a dark forest bordering a
star-strewn, moonless sky.
$1, don't see a thing," yelled Carol.
"It's okay," reassured Jason.
After traveling another quarter hour, the bordering trees closed in
rather suddenly, suggesting the lakelike expanse was coming to an end.
When the trees were closer, Jason realized he had misjudged their speed;
they were moving much faster than he'd thought. Reaching back he cut the
throttle.
The small outboard whined down. As soon as the sound of the outboard
fell, Jason heard another more ominous noise. It was the deep growling
roar of white water.
"Oh, God," he said to himself, remembering the falls upriver from the
Salmon Inn. He pushed the small outboard to the side and turned the boat
around. Then he gave it full throttle. To his surprise and
consternation, it slowed, but did not stop their rush down river. Next he
tried to angle the boat to- ward shore. Slowly, it moved laterally. But
then all hell broke loose. The river narrowed to a rocky gorge, and
Jason and Carol were unwittingly sucked into it.
Around the top edge of the rubber boat was a short rope secured at
intervals by eyelets. Jason grabbed a hold on either side, spanning the
craft with his outstretched arms. He yelled for Carol to do the same.
She couldn't hear over the roar of the water, but when she saw what he
was doing, she attempted to do the same. Unfortunately, she couldn't
quite reach. She held on t
o one side and hooked a leg under one of the
wooden seats. At that moment, they hit the first real turbulence, and
the boat was tossed into the air like a cork. Water came into the boat
in a blinding, drenching sheet. Jason sputtered. The darkness and water
in his eyes made it all but impossible to see. He felt Carol's body hit
up against his and he tried to anchor her with his leg. Then they
thudded into a rock and the boat spun counterclockwise. Through all this
violent activity, Jason kept seeing the image of the falls, knowing that
at any second they could plummet to their death.
Jason and Carol clutched at the ropes in utter terror. They bounced from
side to side and end to end, in rapid gyrations, completely at the mercy
of the water. At every moment he thought they were going over. Water
filled the cockpit. It was stingingly cold.
After what seemed like an eternity of bell, the water smoothed out. They
were still spinning and careening down river, but without the sudden
violent upheavals. Jason glanced out. He could make out the sheer falls
of rock on either side. He knew it wasn't over.
With a tremendous upward surge, the violent dubbing recommenced. Jason
could feel his fingers begin to pain him; a combination of constant
muscular contraction and the cold was having its effect. He gripped the
rope holds with all his strength, trying to tighten his hold on Carol