One of the Boys

by Merline Lovelace

Springing off the sofa, she stood beside Maura, every slender inch quivering with anger. Her silent fury communicated itself to the animal still held tight in her arms. Bea’s gums pulled back over a set of sharp-toothed fangs.

  Maura’s throat closed with suffocating fear. If Pete could so casually condone Jake’s death in a plane crash, he was in deeper than she realized. With blinding fear, she realized he didn’t intend for her and Lisa to survive his admission of guilt, either.

  As if reading her mind, Pete pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket. Maura swallowed convulsively and looked down the barrel of a pistol.

  A deadly silence filled the cottage, broken only by the rain pounding on the roof and the low, growling rattle Bea expelled with every breath. Whimpering in fear, Lisa pressed close against Maura’s side.

  She wrapped a protective arm around both girl and cat, her gaze locked on the gun. She’d never seen one before, much less had a barrel aimed straight at her. The small piece of steel looked obscene in Pete’s tanned hand.

  Tearing her eyes from the pistol, she lifted them to his face. “You can’t do this.”

  “I don’t have any choice.”

  The utter lack of emotion in his reply frightened her more than anything else. Terror, hot and metallic-tasting, choked through her.

  “It’s you or me,” Pete said grimly. “The boys I deal with aren’t exactly small-town shopkeepers. They don’t tolerate mistakes or informants.”

  “But you can be protected from them.” Maura forced the words through numb lips. Her heart hammered painfully with every breath. “I don’t know what kind of sentence you’d get or where you would go to, but surely you’d be protected.”

  “Not hardly. My associates would see I was put away permanently before I could damage their network.”

  “My God, Pete, you can’t do this. You can’t step over the line between selling a few pieces of hardware and murder.”

  Maura knew her plea was futile. Pete had passed the line months, if not years, ago. He couldn’t stand there so coolly, holding a gun on his partner and his friend’s daughter, if he had any conscience left. She took deep, gulping breaths, trying to swallow the bile threatening to choke her.

  “I told you,” Pete said with a show of regret, “I have no choice.”

  Tightening her arm around a shaking Lisa, Maura took a backward step. A stack of boxes piled haphazardly against the wall blocked any further movement. Her frantic eyes flicked over the tiny living room in search of a weapon, any weapon. The only thing with even remote possibilities was a heavy crystal decanter on the sideboard, but Pete stood between her and the bar.

  “Outside,” he ordered.

  “What?”

  “Outside.” He gestured toward the kitchen with the gun. “I’ll shoot you right here if I have to, but I’d rather arrange a little accident.”

  He eyed them with deadly speculation. “I think you and Lisa will have to drown. Everyone will wonder what the two of you were doing out on a night like this, but they’ll never know, will they?”

  Lisa’s terrified sob unlocked the paralysis gripping Maura’s mind. She was damned if she’d let Pete harm the girl, no matter what the cost. Taking a deep breath, she gauged the distance between her and the gun. If she turned at an angle and lunged, maybe she could take the bullet in her arm or some other nonvital part. She had to hold Pete long enough for Lisa to get away.

  “I said outside.”

  Snarling now, Pete raised the gun as if to strike her. Maura coiled her muscles to leap. Lisa screamed. And Bea, jostled roughly in the girl’s arms, sprang directly at Pete’s face with claws extended.

  “Aaah!”

  Pete twisted wildly, swiping at the animal with one hand. His gun went off, and a bullet shattered a lamp across the room. Acrid smoke filled Maura’s lungs, stinging her eyes as she dived for the gun. Dragging on it with both hands, she forced the barrel toward the floor.

  “Run, Lisa!”

  She threw a desperate look at the girl, only to see her frozen in fear.

  “Get out of here!”

  “Let go!” Pete snarled.

  He fought desperately to dislodge both Maura and the animal, which now had its claws dug into his shoulder. Blood ran down his face and splattered on Maura’s outstretched arms. His left hand came up in a vicious blow that knocked Bea to the floor. She yowled in fury, then streaked through his legs to make her escape.

  The combination of Maura’s weight pulling on his arm and Bea between his feet threw Pete off balance. He staggered and fell forward into the stack of boxes. Maura almost went with him. At the last second, she jerked on the gun with all her might. It twisted out of Pete’s hand and fell with him in a shower of crashing cardboard, unpacked books, assorted dishes and a long-lost steam iron.

  The rubble half covered Pete, but he scrambled quickly to his hands and knees. His hands dug frantically through the jumble for his weapon.

  Maura didn’t wait around for him to find it. Whirling, she grabbed Lisa’s wrist and yanked her out the back door into the pelting rain. She knew the cottage to her right was vacant. The one on the left housed an elderly couple. Fifty yards separated the two buildings, but the emptiness seemed to stretch for a mile.

  As she and Lisa raced through the thundering night, Maura searched frantically for a light in the bungalow ahead. There was nothing, not even a glow.

  Praying her neighbors were asleep and not gone, she hauled Lisa behind her. They were almost to the cottage when she heard the screen door slam behind them. She didn’t have time to pound on her neighbors’ door and wait for the elderly couple to answer it.

  “Head for the beach,” she panted to Lisa.

  Altering the angle of her run, she herded the girl toward the narrow shoreline barely visible in the distance. Thank God they both wore old sweats, already darkened by the soaking rain. They should be nearly invisible in the darkness.

  Crouched low, they raced for the beach. At any moment, Maura expected to hear the sharp crack of gunfire. She strained every sense to catch signs of pursuit. Listening intensely, she cataloged every sound and sensation.

  Lisa’s sobbing breath rasped in her ears. Stinging pellets hit her face and eyes. They blurred her vision and obscured the night as much as the suffocating darkness. With one hand locked around Lisa’s wrist, Maura used the other to push her wet, heavy hair out of her eyes.

  She almost sobbed with relief when her feet sank into squishy mud at the water’s edge. Hanging on to Lisa, she slithered down the shallow bank. The girl tumbled down beside her. Panting, they crouched against the mud and risked a quick look back. Darkness lay like a thick blanket.

  A tiny spark of hope shot through Maura. If they couldn’t see Pete, he couldn’t see them, either. They could slip away in the blackness.

  “Maura!”

  The reedy shout sliced through the wind and the rain. Their stalker was between them and the house, heading their way.

  “I’ll find you,” he yelled. “You can’t get away. There’s nowhere to run.”

  A bright beam suddenly cut the darkness, and Maura cursed viciously. Pete must have found the little cache of hurricane supplies she’d stashed beside the back door. After the last hurricane exercise, she’d invested in a waterproof flashlight, among other survival items.

  Putting her mouth against Lisa’s ear, she whispered quick instructions. “We’ve got to get around the curve of the bay, out of Pete’s range. As soon as we’re clear, I want you to run for home. I’ll stay behind and hide. If he picks up our trail, I’ll delay him somehow while you call for help. Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  The whisper was thin and high with fear, but Lisa grabbed the hand Maura held out. Backs bent low, they ran along the narrow beach. The bank offered little protection, but at least the soft sand muffled their footsteps.

  Normally a good three feet of packed-sand beach edged the water, but tonight the wind and rain whipped the waves right up against the bank. At places, wate
r covered the beach completely.

  Rolling troughs of murky water slapped against Maura’s calves and knees, slowing her pace and threatening her balance. They’d almost made the far edge of the cove when another yellow beam sliced through the darkness.

  “Down!”

  She dropped like a stone, dragging Lisa down beside her. The beam stabbed over their heads and aimed off to the right. Spitting out sand and salt-water, Maura struggled to her feet and tugged Lisa into another run.

  Long, agonizing moments later, they rounded the curve and splashed into their own private cove. For a few moments at least, they were out of Pete’s sight. Maura grabbed a tree trunk to steady herself and helped Lisa climb the chest-high bank.

  “Run for home. Or for any house where you see a light. The path goes straight through from here.”

  “I don’t want to leave you!”

  “You’ve got to. You’ve got to bring help.”

  “Come with me,” Lisa pleaded.

  “I can’t. Pete might come around the curve any moment. He knows where you live. He knows your dad isn’t home and will try to follow us there. I’ve got to stop him, somehow. Now, get going, kiddo. I’m counting on you to send help.”

  She managed a shaky grin at the pale face hovering above hers. Lisa bent down to give her a quick, desperate hug, then scrambled to her feet and took off.

  Maura waited until the driving rain had swallowed the phantom figure before she began to feel her way along the bank. Unlike the cleared shoreline around the cottages, this one was wild and undeveloped. And the storm had added even more natural obstacles. Broken branches and debris littered the narrow beach. Whole sections of the bank had given way under the force of pounding rain and relentless waves.

  Mud sucked at her shoes. A twisted, half-submerged tree stump caught her foot in a hungry grasp. Swearing under her breath, Maura threw out a hand to steady herself and fought her foot free.

  Halfway along the cove she found the indentation she’d been searching for. It was wider and deeper than she remembered, probably due to the storm’s erosion. A tall, thin pine towered at the edge of the bank right above the opening, its roots exposed and reaching down toward the sea to form a natural curtain over the shallow cave.

  Maura groped in the darkness for a branch to use as a club, then slipped behind the slime-covered tree roots. Wedging herself as far back into the dark earth as possible, she tried to slow her pumping heart and still her rattling breath. Seconds crawled by with agonizing slowness. Minutes. Hours, or so it seemed.

  Sheltered in her earthen cocoon, she couldn’t hear anything except the splat of rain hitting the waves outside. Her universe consisted of shades of darkness, the water distinguishable from the earth and air only by its faint, pearly sheen. Maura ran a hand along the branch she’d dragged inside, needing the reassurance of its weight and feel. To her dismay, the water-rotted wood crumbled under her shaking fingers. She wanted to scream in frustration. As weapons went, it wasn’t much, but just the thought of a stick of wood in her hands had given her courage. False courage, she now knew.

  Dragging in a shuddering breath, she edged toward the slimy roots. She’d have to slip out and find another branch. Just as she started to slither through the slimy curtain, a yellow shaft of light appeared.

  Maura slammed back against the earth wall, her hands spread out on either side. Her fingers clawed the dirt in fear. Breathless, she saw the narrow beam of light sweep the cove. It sliced past her hiding place, swung back again. She bit down hard on her lower lip to still her rasping breath. Her frantic hands dug deeper into the wall, as if she could tunnel through the bank behind her to safety. Earth crumbled beneath her fingers.

  Suddenly, she touched something smooth and cold and round. Maura snatched her hand away with a terrified gasp. Lisa’s stories about Indian burial grounds flashed into her mind. She could almost hear the girl’s light, high voice recounting with ghoulish delight stories of bones and remains found in this area. The thought that she may have closed herself in the darkness with a skull almost sent her plunging out into the rainswept night. Only the slow, deadly sweep of that damned flashlight kept her still.

  Almost paralyzed with fear, Maura watched the beam grow stronger. Pete was coming her way! The light stabbed the darkness in short, staccato bursts as it swept back and forth across the cove.

  Knowing she had to have some weapon, Maura forced her trembling hand back to the earth wall beside her. Her fingers touched the round smoothness, jerked away and fumbled for it again. Twisting to the side, she scrabbled in the dirt holding the object. To her intense relief, it wasn’t bone, but clay. Round and smooth and still half buried.

  A pot wasn’t much of a weapon, but maybe it had a ragged edge she could use to cut and slash with. Her fingers dug deeper around the piece, trying to pull it loose. After a few frantic seconds, she cleared enough of the dirt to get a grip on the rounded portion.

  To her utter amazement, a heavy clay jug came loose and tumbled out. She ran her hands over its smooth shape, testing its solid heaviness. Around the rim the pads of her fingers could detect an intricate pattern of indentations. The handle was still whole and attached.

  Her fingers closed over the handle. Heart pounding, she watched as the light stabbed closer and closer.

  Okay. This was it. Edging her way to the far side of the opening, Maura filled her free hand with muddy earth. She knew she’d only have one chance.

  When that chance came, she was ready. Pete was only a few feet from her hiding place when Maura slid out from behind the root curtain and let fly with the mud.

  “What the…?”

  He staggered back, giving her the few seconds she needed to lunge forward and swing the clay pot with all the force she could muster.

  Jake pulled into his driveway and waited for the automatic garage opener to lift the heavy doors. Rain drummed on the Jeep’s roof with a steady, pounding beat. The stormy weather exactly matched his mood.

  They’d been so close to launch, so close to springing the trap. Even when the storm over the Gulf changed course and headed inland, they’d almost pulled it off. Delaying cancellation of the mission until the last minute, they gave the saboteurs as much lead as possible.

  Sure enough, a suspicious van had entered the range and parked just outside the expected drop zone. Agent Thompson told him they’d tracked the van with infrared scopes from the first moment it crossed the sensors.

  They’d tracked a few other vehicles, as well, Jake found out during the debrief. Some poachers had wandered through the area with spotlights and gun racks mounted on their truck. Then a bunch of kids had driven through, heading for the small pond and an illicit swimming party. Thompson had an agent watching them the entire time.

  The kids blew the whole scheme. Just after the van arrived, a couple of the teenagers had left the pond. They’d headed toward the van and screeched to a halt before taking off like a NASCAR challenger. Unfortunately, the kids had spooked the suspects. The van left the area just a few moments later.

  Special agents trailed the van, but they didn’t have much to pin on the occupants. Trespassing, for sure. If they could convince a judge to issue a search warrant on such flimsy evidence they might get lucky and find some contraband or illegal tracking equipment in the vehicle.

  After weighing the risks of alerting the suspects against the slim chances of finding anything incriminating in the van, Jake made the decision to let them go and try to rebait the trap with another test. Thompson radioed his people to continue following the van in hopes of identifying the occupants. Chances were they wouldn’t report anything for hours, if even then, so Jake decided to make a quick run home to change. He’d been in his bag since early morning and felt hot, sweaty and frustrated. His body ached for a cool shower and a few hours of rest.

  Wearily he slid out of the Jeep and let himself into the house. His footsteps echoed in the dark stillness. Knowing Lisa was out with Tony, he decided to change and drive ove
r to Maura’s. Maybe they could relax for a few hours and talk through this overwhelming concern she’d developed for his career.

  He shook his head, remembering how serious she’d tried to be, how intent. She followed her heart when it came to her personal affairs, but couldn’t quite bring herself to believe Jake would do the same. He’d try to convince her tonight. On his way to the stairs, he stopped at the desk and punched the Play button on the phone recorder.

  “Jake, this is Maura.”

  As if he wouldn’t recognize her voice, or any other part of her person, he thought with amusement.

  “It’s 9:00 p.m. Lisa’s here with me. She, ah, got back from her date with Tony a little early. Come over if you get home before too late. If not, she’ll stay with me tonight and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After a slight pause, she added softly, “I love you.”

  Jake hit the Play button and listened to the message again, feeling his heart lighten. So the damn project had cost him two months of sleep. So they blew their chance to trap suspected saboteurs. So Jake wasn’t sure if he’d have a job, much less a career, by the time this whole thing was over.

  Maura loved him, and he loved her with an intensity that filled his entire being. He knew with absolute certainty that’s all he needed in this world. The message just finished for the second time when the back door crashed open.

  “Dad! Dad!”

  The panic in Lisa’s voice sent Jake sprinting into the kitchen. Drenched, panting and sobbing, his daughter fell into his arms.

  “Dad, Maura’s in the cove! Mr. Hansen’s after her with a gun. I saw him on the range and he tried to kill us.”

  Jake absorbed the implications of her stuttering, frantic cries in a split second. It took him another second or two to assure himself Lisa wasn’t hurt. She was wet and covered with mud, but otherwise okay.

  “Come on.”

  There was no way he was going to leave her alone until Hansen and his cohorts were accounted for. Together they ran to the nearest house with a light showing. Jake pounded on the door, thrust Lisa into his startled neighbor’s arms, rapped out a brusque order to call the police, then turned and raced toward the shore.