Deadliest Intuition

by E. Raye Turonek

  * * *

  Young Ronald was 12 when his father enlisted him to help him cart the duffle bags to the end of one of the tunnels. The exhausted boy pulled with all his might, not wanting to let his father down. Sweat poured down onto the sides of his face from under the helmet with the glaring bulb attached above its brim. Mr. Doolally didn’t want Ronald to get lost down there, so he made sure he kept a light on his person at all times.

  “Come on, son. We’ve only a few hundred yards left,” he coached Ronald to continue despite his weariness.

  For young Ronald, it felt as if the bag weighed more than he did. The adolescent boy breathed a sigh of relief once they made it to the edge of the tunnel. Mr. Doolally wrapped the straps of the first duffel bag around his shoulders, carrying it up out of the hole on his back. Ronald heard the thud from the loud sack hitting the ground before his father climbed back down the metal rodlike steps to retrieve the other. Mr. Doolally repeated the action with the remaining duffle bag so that Ronald could easily climb the makeshift ladder. When they both made it to the top, his father pulled a long pair of black rubber gloves from the back pocket of his jeans, using them to cover his hands and forearms. He leaned over, unzipping one of the bags. The malodor funk that escaped was worse than that of the pig trough nearby. After that moment, though, they became one and the same.

  Young Ronald forced back the pancakes he’d devoured that morning as they threatened to escape his esophagus. He hunched over, then rested his hands on his knees in an attempt to regain his composure. Sweat, dizziness, and nausea threatened to be his demise . . . for the time being, anyway.

  “Man up, Ronald. It has to be done,” Mr. Doolally remarked with a hand rested on his son’s shoulder.

  His father reached into the bag, then pulled out the bloody, detached extremity. He knew the arm belonged to someone. He simply had no idea who. It didn’t matter either way. Whoever it was no longer existed. Mr. Doolally tossed the arm and the rest of the body parts into the pig trough, eradicating all evidence beyond the blood-soaked plastic lining the duffle bags.

  * * *

  Disposing of Daryl and Joey the old-fashioned way would come naturally to Ronald, having lived through the process many times throughout his years.

  Chapter 43

  Lying in Wait

  Back in town, Joey and Daryl shopped for disguises while waiting for their food to be prepared. A local gas station had a section of sunglasses, fishing hats, and shorts sets that proudly represented the Mitten State. They picked out what they thought would keep them from being recognized. Joey pocketed the majority of it. Not having the money to cover his purchases never seemed to present too much of an issue. Much of the time, he relied on a five-finger discount.

  “Man, I’m not down with just sitting in the woods. Not only is it uncomfortable, but I heard somebody talking about the wolves up here. Maybe we should rent a boat instead,” Joey babbled on.

  “We? You got that much cash to put up? I mean, that might actually be a good idea if we had money to be wasting on a boat.”

  Joey wasn’t giving up that easy. “I don’t mind. Take it out of my cut,” he offered.

  The offer sounded great to Daryl since he was unwilling to foot the entire bill. “All right, cool. Now, we can blend in with the rest of the beach bums,” the grimy hooligan agreed as he tried on the pair of silver shades, then checked his reflection in the mirror on the display case.

  Back at the cabin, Gertrude searched every space, eventually finding herself in one of the other bedrooms. The ruffled bed skirt and canopy above the twin-sized bed told her that it more than likely was where Ronald’s twin slept when she was alive.

  Cecelia stared, outraged by the intrusion. She bellowed at Gertrude to leave. “Get out of here,” she roared. “You have no right to be here.”

  But it was no use. Cecelia’s scream echoed for no one to hear. That gift remained for her twin brother, alone.

  Nevertheless, an eerie feeling washed over Gertrude when she sat on the edge of Cecelia’s bed. It was so intense that she hopped up, leaving the room in an instant as the prickly feeling crept up along the nape of her neck. She was not welcomed there, and the energy surrounding her told her as much. Gertrude closed the door on her way out.

  By then, she wondered what Ronald was up to. His company sure would be comforting in that strange, old cabin. Gertrude headed for the front door in a hurry to find him. As her hand clutched the knob, the door flew open in her direction, almost crashing into her forehead. Lucky for her, the edge of her shoe held it at bay. It was Ronald who had pushed it open. He had finally returned from prepping the property for their visitors.

  “Oh my God.” She threw her hands up over her pounding chest. Gertrude was shocked by him returning just as she went to look for him. “We must be in sync,” she exclaimed. “I was coming to look for you.”

  “Look no further”—Ronald held out his arms—“I’ve arrived. Are you ready to do some fishing?” He closed, then locked the door behind him.

  “Are you ready to catch us some dinner? I could go for some lake bass or even some perch if we’re cooking outside.”

  “What do you know about grilling outside?”

  “I know that all I need is some lemon pepper, garlic, butter, and some Lawry’s, and I can make any meal a delicacy.”

  “Okay, well, let me catch the fish first. I’ve got a few poles already in the boat. You should get a jacket, though. It may get windy because of the storm just passing.”

  “I’ll go grab one. I need to get my book too.” Gertrude headed back to the bedroom.

  * * *

  “There’s the cabin.” Daryl pointed out the Doolally’s log cabin to Joey as they rowed by. Each rowed a paddle opposite the other to get them close enough to see any activity around the cabin. That’s when they noticed Ronald and Gertrude boarding the sixteen-foot Starcraft fishing boat. It had a lifted Wise seat, which sat at the head of the craft. The lower seat sat stationed at the back of the boat for the person steering the craft. “I think that’s them, getting in that boat.”

  “Have a seat at the throne,” Ronald directed Gertrude to the captain’s chair.

  “Oh no, my King. That chair is for you. I don’t feel comfortable riding up that high in the air.” Gertrude tugged down at her life jacket as it pushed up on her chin.

  “So, I take it you know how to steer a boat?”

  “We’ll see. My crash course starts now, I guess.” Gertrude took her seat at the rear.

  Ronald then proceeded to give her the rundown on how to steer the boat.

  “It works like a car in reverse. If you move the tiller to the left, the front of the boat will go right. If you move the tiller to the right, the front of your boat will go left. It’s as simple as that.”

  She seemed to grasp the concept of what he was saying.

  “I think I can handle that,” Gertrude nodded, confident she could pull off the task at hand.

  After Ronald got his pole and then took his place in the elevated chair, Gertrude took off into the open water like a pro.

  He smiled proudly. “That’s my girl.” Ronald cast his line out into the water, and it almost felt like a real vacation. The temptation to forget about the two men in the boat who had followed them nearly won out. Fishing was always a time of true peace and enjoyment for Ronald. He’d have to find a way to make it so, considering the peculiar circumstances they were in. Gertrude, being none the wiser, depended on it. The fact that Daryl and Joey had not made a move yet confirmed to Ronald what he had surmised. The pair’s plan required they wait until nightfall to strike, assured of the fact that they couldn’t take him in the daylight.

  Ronald and Gertrude fished for hours out on the peaceful lake. There were only, at most, five other boats out on the large, winding lake. With plenty of room to spread out, Gertrude felt like they were practically alone out there.

  “Ronald?” Gertrude broke the silence that had blanketed them.

  �
�Yes, Gertrude.”

  “Don’t you get lonely, not having any family or friends around?”

  Although Ronald did miss human interaction, he was never alone. Not even at that moment were they alone. Cecelia sat right at the center of the boat, glaring out at Daryl and Joey, who floated hundreds of yards away.

  “I learned not to get lonely or bored at a very young age. Losing my twin sister, leaving me as the only surviving child, forced me to get used to being by myself. I’ve been an only child since first grade.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you to lose your twin and your mother all within a few years. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry your sister had to go through that. She didn’t deserve to have her life cut short. When things like that happen, it pushes me to search for the silver lining.”

  “I’m curious. What would the silver lining be in my situation?” Ronald wondered how she could put a positive spin on his mother and sister’s deaths.

  “They’re your guardian angels now. They protect you from harm. When there’s no one else to turn to, you should talk to them. They’ll give you a sign. My aunt May talks to her late husband all the time. She swears he’s there when she speaks to him.”

  Ronald chuckled a little. “I always thought she was a little crazy.”

  “I’m serious, Ronald,” Gertrude swatted playfully. “They’re your guardian angels. Have you ever tried talking to them?” her voice turned serious.

  Gertrude wondered just how much of his father’s practices he had picked up. She didn’t see it as misleading him, simply using what experience she had to learn more. It was how she justified it.

  Ronald stopped reeling in the line to look Gertrude in the eye. “It doesn’t frighten you, spirits and all that other supernatural stuff?”

  “Nah . . . I read books. I’ve read about my heritage. My grandmother, much like her mother, practiced vodun. She was from Ghana.”

  “I smell a liar. Her grandmother was from the gutter,” Cecilia spouted. “Go on, brother, tell her about the boat of bandits waiting to kill you two once you’re back on land.”

  “What if I don’t like what they are saying? Then what?” he replied to Gertrude’s question, ignoring his sister completely.

  “You know, I never thought about that.” Her face wrinkled in contemplation of his inquiry.

  “I’ll tell you what. How about you let me worry about coping with my family’s death? Which, might I add, was some time ago. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

  Gertrude dropped her eyes in shame. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

  Ronald shrugged it off. “It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Coward.” Cecelia barked at him before she vanished from view.

  Up until that point in life, Ronald had lost every person dear to him. There was no way in hell he was going to let Daryl and Joey take Gertrude away from him. They had shown up at the wrong place and the right time as far as he was concerned. Much like his rifle in the tree stand, Ronald was cocked and ready. “I think instead of grilling, you should cook inside. I could go for some fried bass. I haven’t had cornmeal-fried bass in years.”

  “You’re in luck.” Gertrude raised her chin, brandishing a wounded smile. Even though she felt sore about overstepping her boundaries, she knew it was a faux pas he would soon forget after tasting the dinner she’d whip up for them.

  “Let me guess. You’ll make the best fried bass I’ve ever tasted.”

  Gertrude snickered. “That sounds about right.”

  “Well, I think about an hour more, and we’ll have plenty of fish to fill us up for dinner.”

  “Can we go to the store in town and get some potatoes? I didn’t see any at the cabin.”

  Just then, something tugged at his line. “Uh-oh.” Ronald jerked up on his rod. “I got something,” he proclaimed as he began reeling it in. “If this is as big as it feels, we might be able to stop now and head into town.”

  * * *

  “Look at that fish he just caught,” Joey gawked through a mini pair of binoculars he’d swiped from the souvenir station.

  Daryl snatched the binoculars from his clutches. “We should show up for dinner. Get a sample of what Miss Lady’s got before we trade her off.” If Daryl’s intentions weren’t bad enough at first, their wait definitely made it much worse.

  Another couple of hours passed as the translucent waters beneath them transitioned to opaque.

  Ronald looked over at Gertrude engrossed in the book she’d brought along, Twisted Entrapment, by N’Tyse. She had barely taken her eyes off the pages to look out at the scenery. Still, he appreciated the fact that she had refrained from rushing him, as he assumed the typical woman would. Gertrude truly enjoyed time out on the boat with Ronald. But alas, they couldn’t stay in that perfectly harmonious state. It was time to get back to reality, him from those waters and her out of the pages of the erotic fiction she had found herself swallowed up by.

  “It’s about time to head in,” Ronald spoke up, stealing her attention away from the read.

  “I’m ready if you are.”

  “Take us home, Captain,” Ronald instructed, prompting Gertrude to grab the tiller, then head for the shore.

  Ronald climbed out first, unloading their catch for the day, before tying the boat to the launch deck on his property. “Take my hand, baby.” He extended his right hand to help lift her out of the boat and onto the dock.

  She accepted the kind gesture as she stepped up onto the platform. “Thank you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” Ronald picked up his line of six fish, then ushered her forward to head for the cabin. “Come on. We should get home.”

  She smiled, putting stock into the fact that he had referred to it as such. The words “we” and “home” in the same sentence sounded like music to her ears.

  Chapter 44

  Multiple Enemies

  At the local market down the road, they were able to pick up the few things on Gertrude’s list to make their fish fry complete. They grabbed a sack of potatoes, a bag of onions, a few bell peppers, along with the cornmeal. The box of pink wine on the shelf would have to do since Gertrude wasn’t fond of the taste of beer. She and Ronald gathered up the rest of their items, then headed to the register.

  “I wonder if they have a restroom here.” She looked around in desperation, her bladder nearly ready to explode.

  “Can you hold it until we get back? We’re next in line.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been holding it since the lake. I should have gone before we came,” Gertrude explained.

  “You’ll need this key, ma’am.” The older woman behind the cash register interrupted, holding it out for one of them to accept.

  Gertrude stepped up, snagging the key as she read the name tag on the woman’s lapel. “Thank you so much, Bernadette,” she expressed with gratitude.

  “It’s just outside on the side of the building.”

  It was at that moment that Ronald started to panic. Knowing the bad guys were out there watching them, waiting for a slip up, he worried about Gertrude being out of his sight and right out in the open. He walked her to the door, then watched as she bent the corner at the side of the building.

  “Sir, are you going to pay for your items?” the cashier called out to Ronald to rush him back to the register.

  He glanced at the cashier. Then on second thought, he turned back to look where he’d expected Gertrude to resurface. Of course, she wasn’t there, but neither were any other cars, and more importantly, the van that had followed them to Idlewild.

  Time dragged. The analog clock above the freezers ticked slow but loud. Kids jumping rope across the street in front of the motel moved in slow motion. Even the vehicles driving by seemed to take more time than needed to pass.

  What’s taking her so long?

  “Sir, I need to clear my register. She’s a big girl. I’m sure she’ll be okay for a minute,” the lone
ly, middle-aged woman complained, secretly jealous of the attention Ronald had shown Gertrude. Bernadette wished she had something more than a cat and bucket of butter pecan ice cream to go home to. She sucked at her brown, nicotine-tarnished teeth, gawking at him as he drew near.

  “That’ll be sixteen sixty-nine,” she smirked, having found humor in the amount of change required for his order.

  Ronald pulled a twenty from his pocket, slapped it down on the counter, then grabbed his bags. “Keep the change.”

  It was a nice gesture, him leaving extra cash, but something told Bernadette that Ronald wasn’t giving it to be kind.

  He rushed outside, headed for the restrooms. Gertrude plowed into him as he rounded the corner.

  “Oh my God,” a startled Gertrude shouted. Her body bounced off his, causing her to stagger backward, nearly losing her footing. Had it not been for Ronald, who grabbed her arm to stabilize her, she probably would have landed smack down on the pavement.

  “I’m sorry. You took so long. I didn’t know if something had happened.”

  “I’m okay, Ronald.” She looked down, seeing he had purchased their items. “Are you ready to go?”

  He looked around to be sure there was no danger in the immediate vicinity. “I’m ready.”

  Once they got back to the cabin, Gertrude put on a record, Barry White. Ronald stood in the doorway of the bedroom, having gotten dressed in his coveralls. He watched her dance across the kitchen, snatching up the three-pound sack of potatoes along with a knife to cut them. Her second glass of wine had loosened her up, putting her in a mood more jovial than he had ever seen before. It was nice to see someone truly happy, especially someone he held so dear. If only he didn’t have to step out to commit murder, that night would have been perfect.