Kill Devil Falls

by Brian Klingborg

  So Teddy must have jumped down. Christ on a crutch.

  Helen peered back down the tunnel, expecting to see Teddy lumbering toward her, a bogeyman in black boots and a gas mask. She listened for the telltale sound of jingling keys. But the generator powering the lights chattered like a troop of Howler monkeys. She wouldn’t be able to hear Teddy until he was right up next to her.

  She turned her attention to the generator. A sturdy black power cord extended from its belly, drooped over the lip of the trap door opening, ran down the wall of the shaft, and looped back up to connect to an electrical socket in the ceiling of the tunnel. The cord looked too thin to serve as a rope. But it was worth a try. It was either that or the long way out. Straight through Teddy.

  She wrapped her hands around the electrical cord, put a foot on the wall of the shaft, pulled herself upward. The cord slipped through her sweaty palms. She wiped her hands on her pants, tried again. Gripping the cord tightly with both hands, she began to haul herself up, both feet braced on the wall. Almost there.

  There was a sharp tug on her coat from below. Helen tried to hang on. The tug became a hard yank. She fell.

  Teddy stood over her, in his black boots, gas mask, gun belt. She saw how he’d managed to survive the arrow and bullets. He was wearing an armored vest.

  He removed the gas mask, dropped it onto the ground. His face was deathly pale. He looked shockingly young minus his beard. A nasty bruise on his temple revealed where she’d struck him with the halogen lantern.

  Helen knew she should either run or attack. Do something, anything. But her body wouldn’t cooperate.

  Teddy grimaced. “Caught me with one of those .357 rounds.” He laboriously tugged at the vest’s Velcro straps, shifted it off his body, let it fall in the dirt next to the gas mask. He took a breath, winced, probed his ribs with his fingers. “Cracked, for sure.”

  He drew his revolver.

  “Wait,” Helen said. “Just … hold on.” She had to speak loudly to be heard over the generator.

  “If you’re hoping to buy time for a rescue, it ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Think about what you’re doing, Teddy.”

  “I have. Now it’s time to just do it.”

  “But … Teddy … Teddy, please.”

  Teddy rubbed his chin. She noticed he’d made a mess of it while shaving, leaving half a dozen tiny cuts and nicks. “I’m sorry, Helen. It ain’t nothing personal. This is just how it has to be.”

  Stall. Distract him. Look for an opening.

  “You’re going to dynamite the mine?” she said. “Blow Kill Devil Falls off the side of the mountain? Then make a run for it? That your plan?”

  “More or less.” Teddy thumbed back the hammer on his .357. Helen saw his finger tighten on the trigger.

  “When the cops don’t find your body among all the others, they’ll know it was you,” she said.

  “Search and rescue might dig for months and never be sure they found all the dead.”

  “What about Frank? Isn’t he your partner? What about Mrs. Patterson? You going to let her die, too? I thought she was the only person in town who was ever nice to you.”

  Teddy burst out laughing.

  “Frank’s a jackass. And Mrs. P ain’t who you think she is.”

  Clearly, Teddy had become completely unmoored. Fallen too far down the rabbit hole to see the light of day again. He intended to destroy everything in his orbit and scuttle away from the rubble like a cockroach.

  “You killed Jesse Patterson, didn’t you?” Helen asked. “While I was with your father at the Trading Post.”

  “You heard him in the jail. Babbling. Who knows what he might have said to the doctors at the hospital once he was doped up on painkillers?”

  “So … it was him. Who cut Rita’s throat.”

  Teddy shrugged and nodded at the same time.

  “What about his bad knee?” Helen said.

  “His knee was just fine. For an old man. That was just to throw you off the scent.”

  “And after you killed Jesse, you decided splitting the money wasn’t as good as keeping it all for yourself.”

  “You shot Mike, not me. And speaking of Frank, where are him and Yates?”

  “Dead.”

  Teddy grinned crookedly, the spitting image of his father. “See? You did most of the dirty work for me.”

  “I was due back in Sac hours ago,” Helen said. “My office probably has a whole convoy of agents cruising up Main Street as we speak.”

  “When I was supposed to be calling for backup, I told dispatch you had car trouble and to let your office know. I said me and my dad would help you secure the fugitive for the night and get you back on the road tomorrow. So no one’s coming, Helen. Not for a long while, anyways.”

  Helen leaned back against the hard surface of the shaft wall. “I guess you outsmarted everyone,” she said.

  “You making fun now?”

  “No. You have the money and the gun. I’m sitting on my ass in the bottom of a mine shaft. But … can you … I figured most of it out … can you tell me the rest?”

  “Why? In a few seconds, it won’t make a damn bit of difference as far as you’re concerned,” Teddy said.

  “I want to know. That’s not too much to ask, is it? Rita sneaks into town, stashes the money. But gets caught. Then what?”

  Teddy rubbed his chin. Helen waited. It looked to her like he was trying to make a decision. Give her the story. Or just shoot her. Finally, he lowered the hammer of the revolver.

  “Mike found her, in the middle of his pot patch.”

  Helen remembered the marijuana in the double-wide trailer. “Mike and Frank are pot farmers.”

  “They grow it, and Mr. P handles the distribution. Handled, I should say.”

  What a charming old man, Helen thought. A murderer and drug dealer to boot.

  “Mr. P has … had … all these LA movie contacts from back in the day,” Teddy continued. “That’s who he sold it to.”

  “What was your end?”

  “Me?” Teddy said. “Oh, I wasn’t involved, not really. I just kept an eye on my dad, made sure he didn’t get wise, checked for any info coming into the sheriff’s department that might pertain to the operation. The inside man, you might say. Mr. P slipped me some cash every now and again, but that’s about it. I don’t think he made much money off it, either.”

  “Okay. So Mike finds Rita in his pot field.”

  “Yes. Hold that thought.”

  Helen watched, incredulously, as Teddy holstered his gun, removed a pouch of tobacco from his pants pocket, ran a thumb along the seal to open it. She considered bum-rushing him.

  As if reading her thoughts, Teddy raised an eyebrow. “I’m a real quick draw,” he said.

  Helen let the moment pass.

  Teddy stuffed a wad of tobacco into his cheek, slipped the pouch back in his pocket, drew his gun again. “Where was I?”

  “Mike, Rita, pot field.”

  “Yeah. After Mike brought Rita over to the trailer, Frank went straight to Mrs. P to ask what they should do. These days, he don’t wipe his butt unless Mrs. P says so. Mrs. P, she wasn’t even living in Kill Devil Falls before Rita ran away, but she’s heard all the town gossip and about the robberies and so forth.”

  “I thought you said Jesse was in charge of the weed business.”

  “I said Mr. P had the connections, but Mrs. P—she was the brain.”

  “What do you mean, the brain?”

  “You want to hear this or not?” Teddy said.

  “Yes.”

  “Then shut up.”

  “Okay.”

  “Next thing, I get a call,” Teddy said.

  “I thought there were no landlines up here.”

  “Well, Mrs. P’s got a satellite phone. Should I continue or just shoot you now?”

  “Um … Continue?”

  Teddy massaged his rib. “Mrs. P calls me and says Rita’s up here and Frank and Mike are sitting on h
er.” He shook his head. “Helen, I about had a heart attack, let me tell you.”

  “Better luck next time,” Helen said.

  Teddy glowered.

  “I’m sorry.” She motioned for him to go on. “Please.”

  Teddy chomped tobacco for a moment, then resumed. “Rita told Frank she was just passing through. Mrs. P knew right away that was a lie. She figured Rita was in town to hide the money. I mean, why else would she be here?”

  “So—” Helen started.

  “Helen, I swear to God, if you don’t quit interrupting me—”

  “Okay. Not another word.”

  Teddy spat a stream of black tobacco juice against the wall of the shaft, wiped a dribble off his lower lip.

  “We didn’t have no way of knowing how much money there was, but given all those credit unions and banks Rita and Larimer ripped off, we guessed a fair amount,” he said. “Split five ways, wasn’t nobody getting rich, but it was enough to make it worth our while.”

  Helen raised her hand.

  “Lord!” Teddy said. “What now?”

  “How much do you consider a fair amount for killing your stepsister?”

  “I didn’t kill her. And don’t you get all high and mighty on me, Helen.”

  “I’m not. I’m just … curious.”

  “Well … Frank and Mike was going to buy this satellite TV set-up so they could finally get some decent reception. I know Mr. P had been wanting to make a movie for a long while. Not a skin flick, a real one. He told me the plot once, but I didn’t really get it, to tell you the truth. Mrs. P, she was just sick of living up here. She said she wanted to move someplace where you could get fresh sushi and a decent glass of Pino something or other.”

  “How about you?”

  “Me? I was going to buy a new 4Runner.”

  “Jesus. You let Rita die in exchange for a new truck?”

  Teddy’s mouth twisted. “I said no at first. I … I was fond of her. But there wasn’t no other way. If we let her live, she’d find out we stole the money, sooner or later, and then who knows what kind of fuss she’d make? Maybe even tell the cops, just out of spite.”

  Helen couldn’t believe her ears. A satellite TV. Sushi. And a truck. Talk about the banality of evil.

  “Why even bother to tell your dad she was here?” she said. “Why let him call the marshal’s service? Didn’t that just complicate things?”

  “That was the best part of the plan. Like you, we guessed Rita ditched Larimer and was going to keep the money for herself. But we couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t be tracked up here, one way or another, seeing as how she was one of California’s Most Wanted. Maybe a hiker would find her car in the forest. Or an eyewitness might remember seeing her at a gas station along Route 49. Just in case, we needed to account for Rita being in Kill Devil Falls. But, of course, once she turned up dead, we’d all be suspects, a town as small as this.”

  “You needed an alibi.”

  He spat another stream of tobacco juice on the wall.

  “That’s where you come in.”

  “You did something to my car so it wouldn’t start. Not Larimer.”

  “Not me personally,” Teddy said. “I was in the jail with you, remember? But yeah. That was to get you over to the Trading Post. So you could see all of us there while Rita was … you know. Frank and Mike were going to fix the car right after. ’Course, my dad messed that up. Then you were supposed to head back to Sac to write up a nice little report putting us all in the clear.”

  Teddy, Frank, Mike, Jesse, and Alice. Collectively, they’d murdered Rita Crawford on little more than an impulse, as if it were no more trivial a matter than running down to the corner store for a gallon of milk.

  “My legs are going numb, Teddy. I’m going to get to my feet, if that’s okay. Don’t shoot me.”

  “Can’t make no promises.”

  Helen put a hand on the wall for support, slowly stood up. Her joints cracked.

  “I feel like an old woman.”

  “You won’t be getting much older.”

  Teddy’s words were chillingly matter-of-fact.

  “Alice Patterson,” Helen said. “You said she was the brain. This was all her idea?”

  “Well, none of us expected Lee Larimer to show up. He sure caught us with our pants down, shutting off the lights, beating the hell out of Jesse. If not for him, my dad woulda given Frank and Mike the go-ahead to take a look at your car and you’d be back home by now, snug as a bug in your little bed.”

  Helen’s knees shook. Fear coursed like ice water through her guts. The situation really couldn’t get any worse.

  The real architect behind the whole sick affair was Alice Patterson. And while Helen was trapped in a dynamite-rigged mine shaft staring down the barrel of Teddy’s gun, Alice Patterson was at the Trading Post with Lawrence. Just the two of them.

  And Lawrence didn’t have a fucking clue about the danger he was in.

  19

  ALICE CHANGED OUT OF her nightgown and into a thick sweater and hiking pants. She pulled on a pair of tennis shoes, double-knotted them. She shrugged into a fleece pullover.

  The time for playing possum was over.

  She’d lied to Big Ed about having an injured ankle, thinking it was the best way to get him to leave her alone in the apartment, out from under his watchful eye. But that had proven to be a mistake. She’d remained trapped inside the Trading Post ever since, afraid of arousing Big Ed’s suspicions, while outside gunfire crackled and buildings burned.

  Twenty minutes ago, she’d watched from her bedroom window as Helen and Lawrence crossed the yard and entered through the back door. The two of them looked like they’d been swimming in a barrel of flaming cowshit. Alice had remained in her room, stayed quiet, waited to see who showed up next. It was Yates, Frank, and Coonie. So, Helen and Lawrence were on the run, with a dimwit, a geezer, and a mangy dog on their heels.

  She wondered how Yates had gotten involved. Likely Frank or Teddy had fed him a lie about the marshal coming to take his guns and property, or some such nonsense. Yates was a real firebrand where the government was concerned. During the initial proceedings with the county, regarding the fate of Kill Devil Falls, he’d shown up at the Trading Post with a printed copy of the Constitution, suggested they form an armed militia and begin building defenses. When the case was resolved peaceably in court, he was sour about it for months.

  Just before they’d started trying to kick in the back door, Alice heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She hid under the bed. The bedroom door opened and she spied a pair of dirty feet in flip flops. Lawrence.

  Below, the back door crashed open and the shooting started. Lawrence stood frozen in place until it stopped, then quietly opened the door and left the bedroom. Alice stayed where she was, figuring under the bed was the safest place to be. Sure enough, there were more gunshots not long after.

  When the shooting finally stopped, Alice gave it a moment, until her need to know what was happening outweighed her caution. She crawled out and put her ear to the door.

  She heard Helen and Lawrence talking, learned that Frank was dead or close to it. Teddy was alive, and currently out in the Explorer. As for the others, the only one who mattered was Big Ed, and she assumed he was dead, too. Otherwise the sound of gunfire at the Trading Post would have brought him running.

  With Big Ed gone, Alice was free to get back in the game. Good thing, because Teddy appeared to have forgotten all about her. Maybe he thought he was smart enough to go it alone. Perhaps he was even considering keeping the money for himself.

  That wasn’t going to happen. It was her plan. Everyone else—Teddy, Frank, Mike, Jesse—they were just the hired help.

  She’d managed to slip back under the bed just before Helen entered the bedroom, the better to play the frightened, helpless old woman. It was obvious Helen had no clue as to her culpability. Good. That meant the situation was still salvageable.

  First item on Alice’s list, now tha
t Helen was out scrounging up a car, was Lawrence. He didn’t look like much of a fighter. But still, he was a young man and she was a woman of, let’s say, a certain age. A fact that might work to her advantage. Lawrence would never expect her to turn on him. But still … better to be armed.

  Jesse didn’t keep a gun in the house. Didn’t believe in them. He was in many ways a cruel man, but never a violent one. He lacked the physicality for that. And the balls.

  Which is why he was both the best and worst choice to kill Rita.

  He’d nearly wet his pants when she’d told him what she had in mind.

  “Is that really necessary, Alice?” he’d whined.

  “You want to make that movie you’ve been going on about for the past twenty years? The one you don’t have one red cent of financing for?”

  “But I have to kill her?”

  “Of course not, Jesse. Just ask her nicely where the money is. She’ll be happy to draw you a map, complete with a little X marks the spot. And she’ll never tell a soul that we took it. Do you have any other stupid questions?”

  “Why can’t Frank do it?”

  “Because he looks like a murderer, you old fool. You just look like an old fool.”

  The Pattersons possessed the one working phone in Kill Devil Falls, a GSP-1700, which operated via satellite link rather than cell tower and was used exclusively to contact their weed connection in Los Angeles. So she’d been able to reach Teddy in Donnersville, and as soon as he and Big Ed arrived to pick up Rita, she’d called the sheriff’s department again to report a shooting in Sardine Valley. Teddy had said that according to protocol, Big Ed would have to respond immediately, leaving Rita with him. And that’s exactly what happened.

  Bolstered by three or four slugs of Scotch, Jesse was prevailed upon to wait in the woods outside the jailhouse. While the marshal was inside signing paperwork, he’d snuck out and disabled her car, according to instructions given to him by Frank.