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Treason in the Secret City

Page 21

by Diane Fanning


  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Oh, don’t play innocent with me. He’s looking for me right now. I can’t find any of the others so he probably has them. I went to the train station and tried to buy a ticket out of this godforsaken place. Just in time, I saw the suits and uniforms closing in on me and managed to give them the slip. I sure hope they found that woman I left tied up in the ladies’ room stall. Her clothes and hat made it possible for me to escape. I gagged her, too, ’cause she wouldn’t shut up. I sure hope she could breathe.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘She was making whistling noises through her nose so I had to cover that up, too. But I think she could still get some air into her lungs.’ Frannie shrugged. ‘Be a shame if she couldn’t.’

  ‘How long ago did you leave her there?’

  ‘Oh, hours and hours ago. If she couldn’t breathe, she’s long gone now. But back to my problem with you. I trusted you because I thought you were Marvin’s friend, and because of that, I thought you believed every word of the story I fed him – I thought you’d keep your promise to him to take care of me. But now I know better,’ she said.

  ‘I was Marvin’s friend,’ I insisted. ‘It is why I was willing to meet you. It was why I was willing to help you. It was why I was so determined to find his killer. I don’t understand you, Frannie Snowden. I don’t know what has happened to you. You are not the younger cousin Marvin adored and wanted to protect. Who are you?’

  ‘Oh, you like that Dumb Dora? You like someone you can boss around and laugh at behind her back?’ Her face went through a dramatic transformation: the eyes grew wider, the lips ever so pouty, her posture softened – yet still the gun aimed straight at me. In a sweet, sweet voice she said, ‘Is this who you want, ma’am?’

  I realized my chin had dropped open. I blinked, closed my lips and said, ‘Are you telling me that you’ve been playing Marvin since you were a child?’

  Her laugh was a cackle. ‘How else do you think I always got my way? I was never as smart as Marvin but I was far, far more clever. He was as easy to manipulate as my parents were who always thought I was perfect and believed it was all the others who were the problem. I’d say I won because right now I have control of your life. One little twitch of my finger and your life is over. Now who’s the Dumb Dora?’

  I had no idea of how to end this stand-off. I knew she could pull the trigger before I could reach her. My only hope was finding out why she hadn’t done that right away and use it to my advantage. She wanted me for something. She needed me for some reason. As long as I didn’t kill that plan, she wouldn’t kill me. ‘What do you want me to do, Frannie?’

  ‘That’s better. But don’t think your change in attitude is going to make me relax – I’m on to your tricks. Right now, what I want is a cup of cocoa. Can you do that?’

  I turned toward the kitchen cabinets and reached for a knob.

  ‘Stop. Don’t move. Tell me exactly what you are doing before you do it. Every little move, every little twitch.’

  ‘Okay, I want to open the cabinet door and see if I have enough sugar left to make your cocoa.’

  ‘Okay, but fling it open and take two steps back and wait until I tell you to make another move.’

  I followed her directions and watched as she changed her angle of sight to look inside. ‘All right. Pull out the sugar and check it.’

  I picked up the box and set it on the counter. ‘Yes, I have enough.’

  ‘Fine. Make my cocoa.’

  I picked up a saucepan, turned and took a step toward the refrigerator. A gunshot rang in my ears and I froze in place, looking down at the hole in the floor two paces in front of me.

  ‘Next time, I’ll aim closer or maybe shoot to kill. Describe every move you make.’

  I exhaled and tried to steady my breathing. ‘Frannie, I need to go to the refrigerator to get the pitcher of milk.’

  ‘No, go back and stand by the counter.’ She walked backwards and, keeping the gun pointed at me, pulled out the milk, walked sideways to the stove and set it down. She stepped back a safe distance and then wiggled the gun at me. ‘Go, do it.’

  Step by step, I talked my way through the process. ‘I am setting the saucepan on the counter. I am pouring the milk into the saucepan. I am lighting the burner on the stove. I am placing the saucepan on the burner. I need to walk over a few steps to get a cup.’

  ‘Fling open the right cabinet door and step back just like before,’ she said.

  I continued describing the movements I was making – it was both mind-numbing and terrifying. I kept looking for an opportunity to disarm her but never saw one. With the cocoa made, I carried it into the living room and set it on the little table by my easy chair. Then as ordered, I sat down on the floor cross-legged.

  ‘Ahhh,’ she said after her first sip. ‘You may be a dishonest liar and an unfaithful friend but you certainly make a good cup of cocoa.’

  I sensed she wanted me to respond to her negative assessment of my character but I refrained and simply said, ‘I am so glad you like it.’

  ‘I bet you are. Probably because you know I could kill you if I didn’t.’ She cackled again and took another noisy slurp out of the cup. ‘Well, I bet you are wondering what’s next, aren’t you?’

  Again, I was speechless. I couldn’t deny what she said but at the same time, I didn’t want to encourage her to toy with me.

  She giggled. ‘You’re kind of cute when you’re distressed, confused and lost, Libby Clark. You ought to use that facial expression more often – it works on those men like you wouldn’t believe.’ She sat in my chair, looking as serene as a well-loved queen perched on her throne. She hummed under her breath as she sipped the rest of her cocoa until the cup was empty. She upended it for a moment and then without warning threw it in my direction. I ducked just in time to prevent it from hitting me in the head. I sprang to my feet and another shot rang out. G.G. darted out from under the chair and ran into the bedroom as if demons rode his tail. I was relieved to see that Frannie did not appear to notice him as she lurched to her feet. ‘On your knees!’ she bellowed. ‘What did I tell you about moving?’

  I dropped and hung my head trying to still the pounding in my chest.

  ‘Tell me! What did I tell you about moving?’

  ‘I cannot move unless I tell you what I am doing first.’

  ‘Exactly. Now sit cross-legged and don’t you dare move again until I tell you.’

  I folded my legs beneath me and lowered down, explaining each little action before doing it.

  ‘Here’s what I can’t figure out. Getting Marvin to believe my story was easy. I needed him when I had to hide from Hansrote and the military. And Hannah? That was child’s play – literally. She’s been doing my bidding as long as I can remember. She took the blame for anything I broke or destroyed. She supported every lie I told. She was my first puppet ever. They were both only stopgap measures to keep me secure until I could eliminate Hansrote. But you? I was worried when Marvin brought you into the picture. Oh, so smart, Marvin said. Brilliant, he said. Getting you involved was the first black mark against Marvin. But then, you didn’t measure up to your billing. You were like putty in my hands. I can’t believe how stupid you are.

  ‘You got it all wrong from the beginning, girl. Hansrote wasn’t in charge. I recruited Hansrote – I knew a greedy little man when I saw one. Seducing him was easy and I thought I had him tied tight. But then he went behind my back and hooked up with that tart Mabel. He decided he didn’t need me around any longer. I told him to drop her or else I would tell Raymond that he was a double-agent. He didn’t want the money to stop flowing and he didn’t want to give up his plaything. So he turned me in to Crenshaw and then told Raymond that I was the problem and that he should be in charge. When one of my men reported that Hansrote had talked to Marvin that was black mark number two and I knew Marvin had now become a big risk to my survival. Marvin and Hansrote both had to go.

  ‘
I set up Hansrote for a fall to keep him occupied while I made my plans but eliminated Marvin first – he was easy since I knew when he’d be in the woods. Hansrote was a little trickier and after you moved me out of the shack against my will, I couldn’t get to him. And honestly, I hoped you and your merry little band would take care of him for me. I didn’t care if he was locked up for the duration of the war or dead – I just wanted him out of the way. But your little group of scientists was incompetent. You just couldn’t get it right. Then, you turned on me. I don’t know what gave me away. But, I’ve got to give you your due, you finally caught on and went to Crenshaw. I can’t say that I blame you. But I’m not going to forgive you either.’

  My head was spinning at her revelations. I could not believe I’d fallen into her trap. And it was worse than she portrayed because I never once suspected her until she stood before me with a gun. I have no idea what her plans were for me but I knew they had to be foiled or my survival was a debatable point.

  ‘I’d like a little sleep before we leave but I can’t trust you at all,’ Frannie said.

  I wondered what she meant – where was I going to go? And what did she expect me to do?

  ‘I’ll just have to have some coffee then. And what about some sandwiches for the road? We’ll both get hungry before it’s safe to stop. Don’t just stare at me – up. Up, up! In the kitchen. And get busy,’ she said motioning with her gun.

  I narrated my progress every step of the way. As I filled the percolator with water, I fought an urge to throw it in her face but she looked too eager to shoot and too close to miss.

  ‘Hurry up! Hurry up! Go open the pantry after you set the pot down on the burner. Open it up and step back.’

  She ordered me into a position where she could keep an eye on me and look at the contents of jars and cans at the same time. ‘I am amazed at how much you have crammed in here. Where did you get it all? Is that jelly?’ She pulled out a jar and held it up so the light shone through the glass infusing the jam with a jewel-like glow. ‘And you have peanut butter, too. Okay. Let’s fix some sandwiches.’ She set the two jars on the counter and asked, ‘Where’s your bread?’

  ‘In the refrigerator,’ I said.

  ‘Well, don’t just stand there, get it. I can see you thinking, but don’t get any funny ideas. I prefer you alive but I can manage if you’re not.’

  When I said I was pulling out the drawer to get a butter knife, all I could think about were the sharp knives in the same drawer. Could I grab one and thrust faster than she could pull the trigger? Could I slip one in my clothes to use later? Before I had it all the way open, she ordered me to back away.

  She pulled open the drawer, looked inside and back-handed me with her gun hand. I staggered back. ‘Now look what you made me do. We’re going to have to clean the blood off your face before we go.’

  She slapped a butter knife down on the counter beside the bread and slid the drawer shut. ‘You still think I’m slow-witted, don’t you? You seem to forget that you owe me. You betrayed me. And you promised your good friend Marvin to protect me. And first chance you get, Libby Clark, you go for a knife? Poor Marvin! He trusted you. But before he died, I told him that you were the real spy, that you forced me to do your bidding. I told him that you had ordered his execution. He died thinking you betrayed him but still he wouldn’t give up any of the others. Stupid boy.’

  That broke my heart. I could only hope she was lying. To die abandoned by friends while a family member watched with pleasure was too much to contemplate. I blinked my eyes to fight back threatening tears while I spread the peanut butter and jelly on the bread. I had to stay focused on Frannie. Sooner or later, she would do something that gave me an opportunity and I needed to be ready to act without any hesitation.

  We left my flattop with a sack of sandwiches, a thermos of coffee, two canteens filled with water and a rolled up blanket. I took a seat behind the wheel of the car and Frannie settled in right behind me. ‘The gun is now pointed to the base of your skull. When we approach the gate, I will hide but I will be aiming straight for your spine – might not kill you but you’ll never walk again if I shoot. If you do anything suspicious and they decide to search the car, I’ll shoot you first and take my chances on getting away in the confusion. Is that clear?’

  After I nodded, she added, ‘If you cooperate, I will let you go when I get to safety. Think about that – just one small piece of your life helping me beats being eternally dead or permanently crippled and helpless. Those are your alternatives. Let’s go.’

  If I believed her, I’d have a shred of hope to clutch to my heart, but I didn’t. I suppose it was possible that she might decide that it was simpler to dump me on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. But I suspected she would use me until she felt I was too much of an obstacle. Then, she very well might drop me somewhere but I would no longer be breathing when she did.

  As I started driving down the road to the gate, she said, ‘If the guard asks where you’re going, tell him the train station.’

  ‘But passenger trains don’t run at this time of night.’

  ‘Tell him you’re meeting a soldier. Troop transport doesn’t always follow a pre-set schedule.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘You better do more than try, Libby Clark, you’d better succeed. Your life depends on it.’

  As I approached the gate, a yawning sentry approached, looked at my identification and waved me on. No questions. No interest in the blanket lumped behind my seat. Nothing. When we were a couple of miles outside of the reservation she clambered over from the back to the front. I was terrified that I’d hit a pothole and accidentally set off her trigger finger but she settled into the seat next to me without incident. I drove into the night with Frannie directing me to Highway 40. Three hours later, we were just outside of Nashville when she ordered me to stop at a truck stop to fill up.

  ‘Smile at the nice man who pumps the gas,’ she said slapping a ten dollar bill in my lap. When he finishes, pull up to the restaurant. We’ll go into the bathroom and then I’m getting a cup of coffee. Before you ask, no, you cannot have a cup. I can’t trust you not to throw it in my face. And don’t forget, the gun will be on you every moment. So smile, smile, smile like we’re two girlfriends on a road trip. You got it?’

  I nodded. And, of course, I smiled. The expression felt phony on my face but hopefully anyone else who saw it would consider that a matter of character. The fantasy of some stranger coming to my rescue was a hope but a ridiculous one. I’d be dead before he could affect my escape. It was all up to me.

  Walking into the truck stop, Frannie acted slightly intoxicated and chummy giving her the opportunity to lean against me and keep me aware of the gun poking in my side. The only attention we received from the late night crowd were leers and catcalls, not exactly the stepping stones to my salvation.

  In the restroom she bullied me into the same stall with her and made me stand with my back in a corner with my hands on top of my head. When she flushed, she said, ‘Your turn. And be grateful. I could make you use a cup in the car.’

  She stood directly in front of me with the barrel pointing at my head. The close quarters created possibilities that weren’t feasible when she was able to keep some distance from me. Even with my underpants down around my knees, I knew this might be my most opportune moment to act. I thought it through, assessed my chances, and took a leap of faith.

  My right hand grabbed the pistol pushing it downward as I launched up from the toilet, aiming the top of my skull at the tip of her chin. As I made contact, a shot fired sending splinters of tile flying in the air and Frannie doubled over at impact.

  My fingers wanted to pull back from the heat of the barrel but I held on, wresting control of the gun away from my tormentor. I grabbed the back of her head and shoved it down towards the toilet. I heard a distinct crack as her face smacked the porcelain rim. I pressed my hand against the back of her head forcing her face into the water, flip
ped the latch on the door and ran out of the bathroom out into the restaurant, now holding the grip on the pistol.

  Once again, I was looking down the barrel of a firearm. This time, the weapon was a shotgun and the guy at the other end was wearing a grease-stained apron tied around his waist and a killer look in his eye.

  ‘Drop the gun, lady. Drop it now.’

  I spread my fingers wide allowing it to fall to the floor.

  ‘Kick it over here. Easy now.’

  I did what he wanted and then he asked, ‘What’s going on in there, lady?’

  ‘That other woman kidnapped me from my home at gunpoint. That’s her pistol.’

  Frannie burst out of the bathroom. ‘Oh, thank heaven. Thank heaven! I thought she was going to kill me. Oh please, don’t let her hurt me anymore.’

  The man with the shotgun swung toward Frannie for a moment then back to me. ‘She doesn’t look like no kidnapper to me. She looks like you’ve beaten her up pretty bad.’ He called over his shoulder, ‘Frank, give ’em another call and make sure they’re sending an ambulance, too.’

  ‘Sir,’ I said, ‘you are making a mistake,’ I said. ‘That woman is dangerous.’

  Frannie interrupted, ‘I don’t need an ambulance. I just want to get away from that woman. She stuffed me in the trunk of my car and now she has my keys. I’ve never been so frightened in all my life.’ Frannie exhaled a sob and continued, ‘I am terrified of her. Please, please, I’m shaking just standing next to her.’

  The armed man looked back and forth between us. ‘We already called the law. I’d be inclined to let you leave, ma’am,’ he said nodding at Frannie, ‘but the sheriff’s office is just down the road so it won’t take them long to get here. I’m going to let them figure this all out.’

  As if on cue, Frannie started shaking all over and looked ready to collapse.

  The man shouted, ‘Frank, get over here and help her to a booth and fix her a cup of coffee or whatever she wants. You,’ he said staring at me, ‘don’t you move an inch.’

 

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