Hostage At Crystal Manor

by Heather Graham

  “They’re going to leave us out here, aren’t they?” she asked, tilting her head to indicate the men on the deck.

  “Don’t be silly,” Kody said.

  “Yeah, don’t be silly,” Vince said. “They’re not going to leave us—not alive anyway.”

  Brandi let out a whimper; Kody pulled her in close and glared at Vince.

  “Sorry!” he whispered. “But, really, what do you think is going on?”

  “I don’t know,” Kody admitted.

  Vince looked over at her, obviously sorry he’d been so pessimistic when Brandi was barely hanging in.

  “I’ve come down this way a lot,” he said. “Hop on the turnpike and take it all the way down to Florida City, hop off, take a right and you get to the Ernest F. Coe Visitor Center, or head a little farther west and go to the Royal Palm Visitor Center and you can take the Anhinga Trail walk and see some of the most amazing and spectacular birds ever!”

  Brandi turned and looked at him sourly. “Birds. Yep, great. Birds.”

  Vince looked at Kody a little desperately.

  “Let me see what’s going on,” she whispered.

  She left her position at the main cabin’s table and inched her way to the stairs.

  As she did so, she heard a long, terrified scream. She ran up the few stairs to reach the deck and paused right when she could see the men. Vince and Brandi came up behind her, shoving her forward so that she nearly lost her balance as the three of them landed on the highest step.

  “What the hell?” Dillinger demanded angrily.

  Yeah, what the hell? Kody wondered.

  The boat’s lights cast off a little glow but beyond that the world seemed ridiculously dark out on the water. Except, of course, Kody realized, the moon was out—and it was high up in the sky, bathing in soft light the growth of mangroves, lilies, pines and whatever else had taken root around them.

  Kody wasn’t a boater, or a nature freak. But she did know enough to be pretty sure they were hugging a mangrove shoreline and that the boat they were on had basically run aground—if that was what you called it when you tangled up in the mangrove roots.

  And now it appeared that Nelson was heading back to the boat across the water, walking—or rather running—on water. He wasn’t, of course. He was moving across submerged roots and branches and the build-up of sediment that occurred when the trees, sometimes in conjunction with oyster beds, formed coastlines and islands.

  “What the hell are you doing, running like a slimy coward?” Dillinger thundered. “Where the hell is Capone?”

  “Back there… We were shining the lights and trying to see around us but it’s pitch-dark out here. We were a few feet apart. We kept flashing the lights, trying to attract your friend who is supposed to come help us, just like you told us… There was a huge splash, a huge splash, can’t tell you how it sounded,” Nelson said. He held a gun. He was shaking so badly, Kody was afraid he’d shoot somebody by accident. He worked his jaw and kept speaking. “I saw…I saw eyes. Like the devil’s eyes. I heard Capone scream…it was…it was…not much of a scream…a choking scream… It’s out there. A monster. And it got him. It got Capone.”

  “You mean you two were attacked by the wildlife and you just left Capone out there to fight it alone? You have a gun! No, wait! You don’t just have a gun—you have an automatic!”

  “I couldn’t see a damned thing. I couldn’t shoot—I couldn’t shoot. I could have hit Capone.”

  “You left Capone!” Dillinger said.

  Nelson stared back at him. “Yeah, I left Capone. He was—he was being eaten. He was dead. Dead already. There wasn’t anything I could have done.”

  Kody heard a shot ring out. She saw Nelson continue to stare at Dillinger as if he was in shock. Then, he keeled over backward, right over the hull of the boat, gripping his chest as blood spewed from it.

  He crashed into the water.

  And Brandi began to scream.

  Dillinger spun around. “Shut her up!” he ordered. He was still holding his smoking gun.

  Kody was ice cold herself, shaking and terrified. She turned to Brandi and pulled her against her, begging, “Stop, Brandi. Stop, please!”

  Vince caught hold of Brandi, pulling her back down the stairs to the cabin, out of harm’s way.

  There was silence on deck then.

  Barrow, Floyd and Dillinger—and Kody—stood there in silence, staring at one another.

  “He was one of us!” Floyd said.

  “He wasn’t one of us!” Dillinger argued. “He let a prehistoric monster eat Capone, eat my friend.” He swore savagely and then continued. “Capone was my friend. My real friend. And that idiot led him right into the jaws of a croc or gator or whatever the hell it was!”

  “I don’t think it was his fault,” Floyd said. “I mean—”

  Dillinger raised his gun again. Barrow stepped between the two men, reaching out to set his hand on the barrel of Dillinger’s gun and press it downward.

  “Stop,” Barrow said. “Stop this here and now. What’s happened has happened. No more killing!”

  Dillinger stared at Barrow. Maybe even he saw Barrow as the one voice of sanity in the chaos of their situation.

  But, Kody realized, she was still shaking herself. Cold—and shaking so badly she could hardly remain on her feet.

  She shouldn’t be so horrified; the two dead men were criminals. Criminals who had been threatening her life.

  But it was still horrible. Horrible to think that a man had been eaten alive. Horrible to have watched a man’s face as a bullet hit his chest, as he splashed over into the water…

  “I never heard such a thing,” Floyd murmured as if speaking to himself. “An alligator taking a full-grown man like that.”

  “Maybe that idiot Nelson panicked too soon and Capone is still out there?” Dillinger asked.

  Kody jerked around, startled when she heard Vince speaking from behind her.

  “In the Everglades, alligator attacks on humans are very rare. I think the worst year was supposed to be back in 2001. Sixteen attacks, three fatal. You know all those things you see on TV about killer crocodilians are usually filmed in Africa along the Nile somewhere. Crocs are known to be more aggressive, and of course, we do have them here, but… Capone is a big man…not at all usual.” He spoke in a monotone; probably as stunned as she was by the events in the last few minutes.

  “Someone has to look,” Dillinger said. “The airboat is still due. Someone has to look, has to find Capone. Has to make sure…”

  No one volunteered.

  “Go,” Dillinger told Barrow.

  “What about the hostages? Three of them and three of us,” Barrow noted.

  Kody had to wonder if he was worried about Dillinger managing the hostages—or if he was afraid for the hostages.

  “I’ve got the hostages,” Dillinger said. “Floyd is here with me. We’re good. Go on, Barrow. You’re the one with the steel balls—get out there. Find Capone. See if—”

  “Alligators drown their victims. They twist them around and around until they drown them,” Vince offered.

  Kody gave him a good shove in the ribs with her elbow.

  He fell silent.

  Luckily, Dillinger hadn’t seemed to have heard him.

  Barrow had.

  He suddenly turned and pointed at Vince. “Right, you know a fair amount, so it seems. You come with me.”

  Kody could feel Vince’s tension. Huddled behind him, Brandi whimpered.

  Kody had to wonder if Barrow hadn’t told Vince to come with him because he was afraid for Vince—afraid that Vince would say something that would send Dillinger into a fit of rage again.

  “Um…all right,” Vince said.

  He looked at Kody, his eyes wide wit
h fear. But then, as he stared at her, something in him seemed to change. As if, maybe, he’d realized himself that Barrow was actually trying to keep them all alive. He smiled. He crawled on past her up the rest of the cabin steps and out onto the deck.

  Barrow was already crawling over the hull.

  “There’s a good tangle of roots right here,” Barrow said. “Watch your step, and cling to the trees this way. Dillinger!”

  “Yeah?” Dillinger asked.

  “The boat’s spotlight—throw it in that direction,” Barrow said.

  “Yeah, yeah, should have done that before.”

  Kody heard some splashes. For a few minutes she could see Barrow leading, Vince following, and the two men walking off into the mangrove swamp. Then they disappeared into the darkness of the night.

  Everything seemed still, except for the constant low hum of insects…

  And the occasional sound of something, somewhere, splashing the water.

  Victim or prey.

  * * *

  “THEY REALLY DON’T,” Vince said, his voice still a monotone as he followed Nick across the mangroves, slipping and sliding into several feet of water here and there. “Alligators, I mean. They don’t usually attack people. We’re not a good food supply. And since the python invasion down here, gators don’t get big enough anymore.”

  “Tell that to the alligators,” Nick murmured. He didn’t know what the hell had happened himself. It was unlikely that a man Capone’s size had been taken down by an alligator, but it wasn’t impossible.

  And he didn’t know who the hell Dillinger was supposed to be meeting, but it was someone coming with an airboat.

  Dillinger had taken over at the helm once they’d headed around the tip of the peninsula; Nick had known that he’d force them to come aground. But Dillinger had a one-track thing going with his mind. There’d been no stopping him.

  Now, of course, he’d taken Vince with him to keep him alive. Dillinger was trigger happy at the moment.

  Nick had been stunned himself when Dillinger had gunned down Nelson without blinking. They were all at risk. What he really needed to do was to take Dillinger down. Take him out of the equation altogether—no matter what it took.

  But what about the boy? Adrian Burke. Where was the child? Only Dillinger knew.

  Then again, what about the hostages?

  Dillinger seemed to get even crazier the deeper they got into the Glades. Did Nick risk Vince, Brandi and Kody in the hope of saving a child who might be dead already by now?

  “Help!”

  He was startled to hear someone calling out weakly.

  “Hey…for the love of God, help me. Please…”

  The voice was barely a whisper. It was, however, Capone’s voice.

  “I hear him!” Vince said.

  “Yeah, this way,” Nick murmured.

  He was startled when Vince suddenly grabbed him by the arm, so startled, he swung around with the Smith & Wesson he was carrying trained on the man.

  “Whoa!” Vince said. “I guess you are one of them!”

  “What?”

  “You, uh, you’ve kept us alive a few times. I thought that maybe you were a good guy, but, hey…never mind.”

  Nick said nothing in response. He couldn’t risk letting Vince in on the truth. The man talked too much. Instead, he turned, heading for the sound of Capone’s weak voice.

  Nick came upon him in a tangle of mangrove roots. Capone seemed to be caught beneath branches and roots that had actually tangled together.

  “We thought a gator got you,” Vince said.

  “Gator? That Nelson is an idiot!” Capone said. “The branch broke, splashed down and pinned me here like a sitting duck. If there is some kind of major predator around…” He paused, looking up at Nick. “My leg is broken. I won’t be able to make it to…wherever it is exactly that Dillinger wants to go. You gotta help me somehow, Barrow. You gotta help me. He’ll kill me if I’m useless. Dillinger will kill me!”

  Nick hesitated but Vince didn’t.

  “No, no, he likes you!” Vince said. “He just shot that other guy—Nelson—for leaving you!”

  “He shot Nelson?” Capone demanded, staring at Nick.

  “Yeah,” Nick said quietly.

  He reached down. First things first. He had to get Capone out of the mire he was tangled in.

  There was a sudden fluttering sound as Nick lifted a heavy branch off the man. He had disturbed a flock of egrets, he saw. A loud buzzing sounded; he’d also attracted a nice swarm of mosquitos.

  Vince swore, slapping at himself.

  “Help me!” Nick snapped.

  Vince went to work, slapping at his neck as he did so. “Amazing. Amazing that people actually came and stayed to live in these swamps.”

  He rambled on but Nick tuned him out. He was too busy detangling Capone.

  When they lifted off the last branch and pile of brush, Capone let out a pained cry.

  “My leg,” he wailed. He looked at Nick desperately. “What the hell do I do? He’ll kill me. No, no, we have to kill him, Nick. We have to kill him before he kills all of us.”

  “We can’t just kill him, Capone,” Nick said.

  “Why the hell not? The hostages are free or with us. Once we kill him—”

  “We don’t know who he has coming. He made plans for this. Someone is bringing an airboat here. We’re stuck, if you haven’t noticed. And this may be a national park, but if you’ve ever spent any time in the Everglades, you know that we could be somewhere where no one will ever find us.”

  “We have guns.”

  “And he’s got a kid stashed somewhere, too, Capone. A little kid.”

  “I know. He made sure we all knew. I’m sorry about the kid but—”

  “I won’t tell him that you wanted to kill him,” Nick said firmly.

  Capone stared at him and nodded.

  “Yeah. Okay. But you watch. He’s going to want to kill me.”

  “I can see that you’re left behind. On the boat. The one we stole from that poor old man. Someone will come upon it eventually,” Nick said.

  “You can make that happen?”

  Nick shrugged. “I can try. If you stay behind, it’ll probably be the cops who find you. But, hey, these guys might speak nicely for you when it comes to sentencing.”

  Capone suddenly pulled back and shot him a look. “You’re a cop!”

  Nick didn’t miss a beat. “I swear I am not a cop.” Without a moment’s hesitation he called to Vince for help lifting Capone.

  With Capone shrieking in pain, they got the man up on his one good leg.

  Just as they did, they heard the whirr of an airboat and saw a blinding light flood the area.

  Sleeping birds shrieked and fluttered and rose high in flight.

  Nick noticed the glassy eyes of a number of nearby gators; they’d been hidden in the darkness.

  The sound of one engine sputtered and stopped; a second did so just a moment after.

  Two airboats had arrived.

  “Hey, are you having trouble?” someone shouted.

  Nick couldn’t see a thing; he was blinded.

  But he didn’t have to. He knew this had to be Dillinger’s associate, whoever he had been waiting for to bring him the airboat.

  “Broken leg!” Nick shouted.

  The light seemed to lower. He saw the first airboat and a second airboat in back.

  A man jumped off the first one and came sloshing through the water. He was quickly followed by another. Both men were tall and muscular and quick to help support Capone.

  “Where’s Dillinger?” the older of the two, a man with dark graying hair and a mustache and beard to match, asked Nick.

  “Back at the bo
at we took this afternoon,” Nick said.

  “Cops have been looking for that ever since the old man who owned her got picked up by a Coast Guard vessel about an hour ago.”

  “You gotta ditch it,” the younger man said. He looked just like the older man.

  Father and son, Nick figured.

  “Everyone is all right?” the older one asked, sounding nervous.

  “Do I look all right?” Capone moaned.

  “I meant…”

  “The hostages are all alive. We’ve had a few difficulties,” Nick said. “There—ahead, there’s the boat!”

  “Dillinger!”

  Dillinger looked over the bow as Nick, Vince, Capone and the two unnamed newcomers came along, nearing the boat.

  “Capone!” Dillinger cried. “I knew it. I just knew you weren’t dead. You’re too damned mean for any alligator to eat!” He frowned then, realizing how heavily Capone leaned upon the men at his sides. “What happened?” he asked darkly.

  “We’ve brought you an airboat—just as you asked,” the older of the men shouted.

  “Good. How will you get back?” Dillinger asked.

  “We’ve got a second boat. We’ll get out of here and back to our business,” the older man said.

  “All right, go.”

  “We’re even then, right?” the older man demanded. “We did what you wanted.”

  “Yep. You did what I wanted. Head to the old cemetery in the Grove. Find the grave of Daniel Paul Allegro. Dig at the foot. You’ll find what you want. You’ve evened the score enough, so go,” Dillinger said.

  “How do I know that the papers are there?” the older man asked.

  “You’re going to have to trust me. But I’ve always been good to my word,” Dillinger said.

  The man with the graying dark hair and beard looked at Nick. “If you would help us…?”

  “Yes, of course,” Nick said. He took Capone’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. The night was cool but Capone was still sweating profusely.

  The men who had brought the airboat nodded and walked away.

  Nick watched as they left, water splashing around them as they returned to the second airboat.