Rough Waters

by Maggie Toussaint

  “Forget the damn coins. We need to move on and get our alibi straight. We can haul this pair over to his place in my truck.”

  Chapter 53

  Jeanie fumed. They’d forced Rock to pen the dogs in his truck. They’d taken away his weapons. Her lifelines were drying up faster than a puddle on a sand dune. She struggled against the twine around her wrists and ankles. If only they’d tied her hands in back of her, she could grab whatever Rock had slipped into her pocket when she pretended to faint.

  Instead, she’d been tied up, gagged with a bandana, and dumped in the bed of a rusty pickup. They hadn’t checked her pockets, for which she was grateful. She didn’t like the idea of Tarpley touching her anywhere.

  She lifted her bound wrists, hoping she could gnaw on the bindings. Nope. She glanced around the truck bed, hoping to find something, anything, but she was the only thing in there.

  Despair rose in her throat, choking her. She couldn’t give up. Couldn’t let these men defeat her.

  She’d always been limber and athletic. Chasing after two kids had helped keep her flexible. So did her yoga classes with Roxie. Could she thread her legs through her bound arms so she could reach her back pocket? Could she do it without drawing their attention?

  She had to try. If she ran out of time, they’d catch her in the act. As quietly as possible, she curled into a ball and tried to bring her knees high enough to get her feet through. Her knees would go through, but not her feet. Not enough room.

  Jeanie tried butterflying her knees out and bringing her feet up through the loop of her arms. Couldn’t get her feet high enough because of the bindings. Not happening.

  She lay flat on her back. What if she raised her feet in the air over her head? Would gravity pull whatever was in her pocket out?

  Squirming toward the tailgate, she used it to help her bring her feet over her head. But the full leg extension tightened the fabric of her pants, and nothing fell out of her pocket.

  She tried reaching her back pocket again. Couldn’t come close. She inched over to the tire well and tried to push whatever it was out of her pocket by scooting her butt along the firm surface. Was it working? Maybe. She wormed up the bed and tried it again. Still couldn’t reach the item in her pocket.

  Gritting her teeth, she tried again. She felt it moving. But she also heard the shop door open. She froze.

  “Don’t do this,” Rock said. “You’re making a big mistake.”

  “Shut up,” Larry snapped. “Tarpley doesn’t take orders from you. Gag him.”

  Jeanie heard sounds she couldn’t quite make out, but she was certain of one thing. They were coming her way. Should she appear to be out cold still? Would anyone believe that?

  The tailgate creaked open. She closed her eyes, choosing to play possum. Why didn’t she have long hair so she could hide behind it? Her heart beat so fast she was sure it was visible to anyone who looked at her.

  From the easy way Larry and Tarpley talked and moved, they were the only people here at the marina. No one would hear a gunshot. No one would see what the men did with them. She suppressed a shudder as something heavy clunked into the bed beside her.

  “I’m going to be watching you the whole way,” Tarpley said. “You give me any grief, and I put a bullet right through her head.”

  The tailgate slammed shut. Truck doors opened and closed. The motor rumbled to life. Only then did Jeanie manage to peek through the slits of her eyelids—and found Rock’s face inches from hers.

  She gasped, which was muffled by the bandana. He’d been gagged with another bandana, but his face was black and blue, and one eye was all but swollen shut. The other eye watched her like a hawk.

  His good eye made a circular motion.

  What did that mean?

  She blinked as tears sprang up. He was still alive. They had a chance. She drew her eyebrows together to show she didn’t understand.

  Lifting his head slightly off the bed, he rolled his head.

  Think, Jeanie. The man is smart. Our only hope to escape is whatever he put in your pocket. The answer came to her in a blinding flash of the obvious. She nodded and on the next bend in the road, she rolled into him.

  She felt a tug on her pants pocket and then a pat on her rear. She smiled. He’d gotten the object, and he wasn’t giving up. On the next curve, she rolled back to her side so she could face him.

  Mindful of the window above them, she didn’t ask to see the item, but she was much relieved he had it.

  She didn’t know where they were being taken. But she knew the important stuff. They were together. They still had a fighting chance.

  Chapter 54

  Rock’s fingers closed around the utility knife with a sense of profound relief. By his estimation there were only a few minutes left of the truck ride to his apartment. He’d leased the place because it was near the marina.

  Not enough time to open the knife and cut the twine wrapped around his wrists and ankles. His best bet would be to make a move once the men split up.

  His former friend looked awful. The rounded and flushed face, the watery eyes, and those thick ankles. Tarp needed medical attention. Hard to do as a dead man.

  He should’ve insisted on making this trip alone. Jeanie would be safe if he had. Instead, he’d let her talk him into the ride-along. He admired her courage and moxie. Plenty of other women would be in hysterics right about now. Not his Jeanie. She was focused on escaping.

  His Jeanie.

  He’d never felt so strongly about a woman. Never envisioned a future with someone like Jeanie. Not that she’d choose a beat-up guy like him to deliver her flowers. She could have any guy she desired, but a guy could dream.

  He wanted a shot with her.

  The truck slid around another curve, shifting Rock onto his left arm. His breath caught at the jolt of pain.

  He’d been in bad situations before. He could do this, easy. The difference was this time he had Jeanie to think about.

  The truck stopped short, causing Rock and Jeanie to slide forward and bang their heads. He heard Larry and Tarpley laughing and knew the sudden stop was deliberate. Both men rapped on the sides of the truck as they walked around, the sound clanging in Rock’s ears. Jeanie startled beside him.

  “You were right,” Tarpley said. “The gal’s awake. Probably been faking all along.”

  He reached for Jeanie and threw her over his shoulder. Rock heard Jeanie’s grunt of pain and yelled through the gag.

  “Sit up, one-eye,” Larry said, nailing his side with another punch. “Sit up, or I’ll rip the woman’s clothes off.”

  Rock rolled, scooted, and lurched into a sitting position, utility knife sheathed inside his palm.

  Larry reached over with a Bowie knife and sliced the bindings on Rock’s ankles. “Walk inside. Now.”

  His head pounded, his ribs ached, and the steady throb from his arm forced Rock to concentrate. Larry no longer wielded his shotgun, but the Colt he’d stolen off Rock. No matter, it would kill just as fast. Every few steps, Larry pushed the nose of the gun into Rock’s back.

  Like he would forget it was there.

  His apartment smelled like wet dog and stale air. He’d closed this place up before he left because he had a few months remaining on the lease. It gave him the option of a place to stay if he decided to return to North Carolina. No way was that happening now.

  But he hadn’t left it looking like this. Every sofa, every chair had been slit open. Drawers upended on the floor. Books pulled off the shelves. His boxes of fishing tackle scattered and busted.

  It hadn’t been fancy before, but now it looked unfit for bums.

  “Sit,” Larry ordered when Rock made it to the kitchen. Jeanie already sat in the other kitchen chair, murder blazing in her eyes. “Tie ʼem up, starting with the woman. I’ll keep my gun on Mackenzie until you have her secured.”

  With his good eye, Rock saw Tarpley walk over to where the duct tape had rolled, as if he knew exactly where he was going. He
must’ve tossed the place. Moments later, Jeanie’s legs and her shoulders were strapped to the wooden chair.

  Rock tried to headbutt Tarpley when he leaned in to tape him, but Tarpley danced away. “Not this time, Rocko. You’re going up in flames, when you could’ve gone down with the ship. Not quite the fame and fortune you yearned for, eh? Enjoy the burn.”

  When Tarpley finished binding Rock, he tossed the tape back in the corner where he’d found it. “Done.”

  “Give me a few minutes lead, turn on the juice, and haul ass to The Rusty Anchor,” Larry said as he edged out the front door.

  Tarpley fiddled with the stove’s gas fitting while Larry left. After he heard the truck door open and close, the motor rev, and the vehicle move off, Tarpley took a deep breath. “Sorry about all this, Rocko. I tried to keep you out of it.”

  “Hmpf?” Tarp was a reluctant partner in all this? Hope flared.

  “Larry’s crazy, man. I borrowed money from him and couldn’t pay it back. He put me in a really bad place and took pictures of me doing it. He’s got evidence against me now.”

  Rock struggled to speak again, but Tarpley just shook his head. “I know you’d try to help me if you could, but it’s too late for that this time around. Larry wants you dead, Rock. So I gotta kill you, but no hard feelings, okay?”

  Rock stared, unable to believe what he was hearing.

  “Oh, and since you’ve been gone, I tapped into your bank account. I found a list of your passwords when I was tossing the place. If your journal was here, I would’ve taken that instead...and none of this would have happened.”

  Rock’s “you don’t have to do this” came out unintelligible thanks to his gag. He slammed back in the chair, tipping it over.

  “You don’t want to do that,” Tarpley said. “After we heard about Palamiri, I knew you’d come for me. I came back here and disabled the shutoff valve behind the stove and removed all the knobs but one. Once I turn that burner on and take the knob with me, one little spark and kaboom. Kinda ironic, you, going out in a big explosion after all the bombs you defused overseas. Anyway, all I have to do is call your cell phone after I get to the Anchor, and you’ll be toast.”

  Rock knew the cell phone sparking a fire possibility was unlikely, but he didn’t want to give Tarpley incentive to come up with another option, like a bullet. The gas would kill them long before a cell phone would spark a fire. Regardless, he needed to act fast.

  Tarpley pulled Rock’s cell phone from his pocket and placed it on the kitchen table. A cold, distant expression came over his face before he slowly turned and calmly switched on the gas, as if he were preparing to boil water, not sending two people to their fiery deaths.

  At the smell of gas, Rock tried to catch Jeanie’s eye but couldn’t because of the angle. The air would be fresher longer near the floor. Now that he had tape and twine to cut through, he’d have to work twice as fast to beat the clock.

  He hoped she didn’t make any sudden moves now that gas was leaking into the kitchen. They needed everything to line up perfectly if they were to survive this. As soon as Tarpley left, Rock opened the utility knife and started cutting his wrist bonds.

  The rotten egg aroma in the room intensified.

  He sawed through the tape. Still had the twine to go. His pulse jumped like a rabbit. He wanted to reassure Jeanie, but the only way to help was to keep working as fast as he could.

  Saw. Slice. Cut. Come on. He worked the knife harder, jabbing the skin of his arm to get through the twine.

  Finally his bonds fell away. He started on his legs. Got them free. Just in case Tarp made good on his calling-the-phone-to-spark-a-fire nonsense, Rock dealt with the phone first. He chucked it out the back door and drew in a deep breath of untainted air. He raced to Jeanie, removed her gag.

  “Chest hurts,” she said. “Can’t breathe.”

  Rock heard a sharp retort from the front of the house. Sounded like a car backfired. Or a gunshot. He picked up the kitchen chair with Jeanie in it and bolted out the back door. The gas smell permeated his clothes. His eyes watered, and his stomach lurched. The fresh air felt good on his face, but his head pounded.

  He stopped behind an oak. It wouldn’t completely shield them from a blast, but it would take the brunt of the explosion. He took a few deep breaths to clear his thoughts while he hacked at Jeanie’s bonds. Freed her. Kissed her.

  “We made it,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I’d stand up, but my legs are numb.”

  “We can’t stay here,” Rock said, rubbing her feet and legs. He felt woozy, like he had after drown-proofing in training. He shook it off, needing to get the cobwebs out of his head. “The place could go up any minute now.”

  Jeanie rolled her wrists, furiously shook her fingers. “I don’t like Tarpley, but I hate Larry. What’s wrong with him?”

  “I need that phone to call the cops. Good thing the guy who lives in the other half of the duplex is on deployment.”

  Rock scrambled through the long grass in his side yard, but he couldn’t find the phone. The external gas shut-off valve. It was outside. “I’ve never seen this side of Larry before. He’s always been a mild-mannered quiet guy around me.”

  “Mom always says ‘you gotta watch out for the quiet ones. They’ll be the first to knife you in the back’.”

  “Smart woman. Stay put. I’ll be right back.” He sprinted for the house, found the valve and shut it off. If he could open the front door, the cross ventilation would air the place out.

  He hurried back to Jeanie. “I switched off the gas supply feeding into the house, but I need to circle around and open the front door. Do you want to wait here or come with me?”

  “I don’t want to wait anywhere. I want to go home to my family.”

  He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “You held it together through some tough times today. Hang on a little longer, if you can. We need to make sure this pair goes to jail for what they tried to do. I don’t want to live the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.”

  “Me either.” She stood up, but her knees buckled. “Maybe I will wait here.”

  He positioned her on the ground behind the tree, then kissed her on the lips, squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  With that, he loped around the perimeter of the house, dodging from tree to tree, just in case a spark sent the house into explosion mode. He made it to the front, but the door was locked. He felt for his keys, realized Tarpley had taken them. He started back down the steps, intending to run back to Jeanie, but he heard a noise.

  A gurgle.

  He glanced around and saw nothing. Eased toward the road. Saw something twitch in the twilight cloaking the ground. A person. Bleeding on the road. Tarpley.

  With caution, he approached. Blood soaked Tarpley’s shirt, made a dark pool around his body.

  Tarpley’s eyes widened. “You’ve got the lives of a cat.”

  “Where’s your phone?”

  “Front right pants pocket,” Tarp said in a pained groan.

  Rock reached for it. Dialed the emergency number. Requested the cops, fire department, gas company, and an ambulance.

  After Rock gave the address and particulars, the male dispatcher asked Rock to stay on the line.

  “Can’t,” Rock said. “The victims are too far apart.”

  “Sir, carry the phone with you. We need to stay in contact.”

  “Sure.” He shoved the phone into his back pocket.

  He noticed Tarpley trying to speak again. It sounded like he said “time to cut bait.”

  Rock leaned closer to Tarp’s ashen face. “Tarp?”

  “Catch bait. You need bait.”

  “What does bait have to do with anything?”

  “Everything. Bait is everything. Shh. Don’t tell. ʼSpecially not Larry.”

  “An ambulance is coming, buddy. Hang on.”

  “Don’t matter. I’m spent.”

  “Tarp. That stuff you said. You mean it? You hate me?”
<
br />   “Sure. That’s what brothers do. Hate and love in the same breath.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Couldn’t at first. Then there wasn’t no point.”

  “Sure there was. We could always work things out together. It’s what we did best.”

  “I won’t forget how you always helped me, Rock.”

  Rock searched his heart for forgiveness. Tarpley had crossed many lines. He’d destroyed Rock’s business, blown up his boat, attempted to kill him twice, but the thing Rock couldn’t get past is that Tarpley would have hurt Jeanie. “You would have killed us.”

  “I had to do it. Larry owns me. Those videos of me and the jailbait girls. I was a fool.”

  A siren wailed in the distance. “I was your friend.”

  “I was the oldest, like Cain in the Bible, but you had the golden touch.”

  “We had the same start. You could’ve had anything you wanted.”

  “You made me look bad. I couldn’t tell you about him, or he would’ve cut me off.”

  “He supported you?”

  “Gave me some cash now and then. But not any more. Now you’re just another one of his throwaways, like me.”

  “Whose throwaways?”

  “Lyle. He’s our father.”

  Chapter 55

  Lyle?

  Wendell Huntley Lyle, III, his father?

  No way.

  His heart pounded. Rock brought the investor’s face to mind. Searched the craggy features for familial likeness. Found none. His mom had always said he favored his father, and now he didn’t know whether that was a plus or a minus.

  Tarpley had unlocked the house when they arrived, so it stood to reason he still had the key. Rock dug through the man’s pockets until he found his keys.

  “Don’t leave me,” Tarpley begged.

  “Have to this time, buddy.” Rock ran to the house, pressed his lips together, unlocked and opened the door by feel in the thickening darkness. The sulfury smell of gas wafted out. He stepped back, circling the duplex in the thin light of dusk to find Jeanie.

  She looked up at him from the ground, tears staining her pale cheeks. “I couldn’t do it. I tried to get up, but I kept thinking they were out there, watching me, waiting for me to move in the open so they could blow up the house.” She sobbed. “Blow you up.”