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Telltale (Shelby Hope Book Two) (Shelby Hope Novels 2)

Page 9

by Stephanie Parrish


  "Uh, that’s really nice of you, Duke, but I’ve already had supper. And, uh, Alex will be back soon, and I need to get something ready for him."

  "You didn’t wait for him?" he asked.

  "No, I got hungry and couldn’t wait. You know how it is." I smiled at him. "So, thanks anyway. But I’ll just stay here until he gets back."

  "Are you sure? Cause you know it’s no problem. We can watch for him on my boat, and he can have dinner there too. I don’t mind." Another glance backward.

  This un-Duke-like persistence was very odd.

  "Duke, I’m sorry, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll stay here."

  He stared at me for a moment, then finally said, "Well, okay, Shelby. But if you change your mind, just come on over. Oh, right, I guess your dinghy’s gone. Well, if you change your mind, just give me a holler, and I’ll come back and get you."

  "Okay, Duke, I’ll talk to you later," I said, firmly. I turned around and went below, sliding the companionway hatch shut in an effort to make it clear that I was in for the night. Sliding into my bunk, I listened until I heard his outboard start up and get fainter as he moved away. I wondered why I hadn’t heard it before. Maybe he’d rowed over.

  I also wondered if he’d heard me hail Alex, just before he’d knocked. Surely, I would have heard the sound of my own voice coming from a handheld radio if he’d had one, so I thought it was unlikely he’d heard. Briefly, I considered radioing again, but decided not to telegraph my desperation and expose my lie. Not that it was a very good lie. Why would Alex be tooling around in the dinghy at this time of day, when there wasn’t much to see out here anyway?

  Grabbing my book, I pulled the portlight curtains in my berth, then turned the light on in there, determined to read and not let my mind dwell on Alex’s whereabouts and Duke’s odd invitation. I sat staring at the page in my book. I read the same paragraph about five times without understanding any of it before I finally gave up. Flopping back against my pillows, I stared up at the ceiling, then craned my neck to look at the clock. Eight thirty. I got up and went to make sure the VHF was on. It was. My hand hovered above the microphone. Logic told me that Alex would hail me as soon as he got within range, so there was no point in continuing to hail him. Logic told me that he could be running late for any number of reasons. I dropped my hand, then reached for my cell phone. Logic stepped in again and asked me what I thought had changed since I’d last checked for a signal. Jeez. I wasn’t sure thinking calmly and logically was any better than pacing and worrying.

  I tried to keep calm by thinking logically, while I paced and worried.

  Finally, around nine o’clock, I heard the putt putt putt of a small engine. With relief, I charged up into the cockpit, trying vainly to see into the darkness. "Alex? I’m so glad you’re back! Where have you been?"

  Only it wasn’t Alex.

  It was Duke.

  And this time, he wasn’t alone.

  Chapter 15

  Duke came aboard first, his head appearing over the coaming as he climbed up the swim ladder.

  "Heya, Shelby." Click click click.

  "Duke? What are you doing here?"

  "Well, uh, I—"

  "He brought me. I made him wait until it was good and dark, just so no one else would be coming along. I don’t want anyone minding my business just now."

  The blood pounded in my ears. I’d heard that voice once before, coming out of the darkness, just like now.

  Real sorry, and all that. Bro.

  Johnny Rumbar was aboard the boat.

  I took a step backward, stumbled, and almost fell. A hand grabbed me, hard and strong.

  "Be careful, there, Shelby Hope. Can’t have you hurting yourself. That’s my job now." And he laughed.

  I twisted my arm away from him and turned, meaning to run below and slam the hatch shut. But as I turned, he grabbed my ponytail and yanked me toward him. I lost my balance and fell against him. He wrapped his free arm tight around my waist. His voice was low in my ear.

  "I got to say, Shelby Hope, you’ve caused me a lot of trouble. I’d planned to be long gone by now, but I see I got to take care of you. And that’s kind of put me in a bad mood."

  I struggled to get away from him, but he just laughed and tightened his grip, letting go of my ponytail and sliding his arm around my neck. He pulled me closer, my back against his front. I felt like throwing up.

  "Don’t bother screaming, either, Shelby Hope. You know why? You know your friend? Well, he’s not coming back anytime soon."

  Cold fear went through me, along with an exhausted shame to think that Alex was hurt…or worse…because of me.

  "Gave you goosebumps, did it?" Rumbar said in my ear, rubbing his hand up and down my bare arm. I tried to jerk away. He laughed again. "It’s not what you think. He’s not the one who has been telling tales about me. No, that’s you. So all I did was slow him down some. He’s fine. Right now, at least. Maybe he won’t feel so good later when he finds your body, floating in the river."

  Duke had been silent, so quiet I’d almost forgotten he was there. But when he heard that, he said, "Hey! We’re not going to kill her, are we? I didn’t think we were going to do…that."

  "What did you think we were going to do with her, play Scrabble? You in love or something?"

  "No, course not. I just…I just…she’s been real nice to me. I thought maybe we could just talk to her, or somethin. That’s what you said. You didn’t say nothin about hurtin her."

  "This is why you’ll never amount to anything, you dumbass. You got no backbone. It’s her or me, see?"

  "Hey! I don’t like this." Duke’s voice rose to a wail.

  Now that the first shock was wearing off, I desperately tried to think what to do.

  Yelling wasn’t going to help me. There was no one out here. Running away from them would only work for so long. There was nowhere for me to run to. And there were two of them.

  I thought about the things Matt had told me, on that day in my sunny, cheerful backyard, when I’d asked him to teach me how to defend myself.

  Breathe. Calm your mind and let the adrenalin give you power.

  I forced myself to relax and took a deep breath. Then another. Then another.

  In the meantime, Duke and Rumbar had continued to argue about what would happen to me. In his agitation, Rumbar’s already-tight hold on me became painful. I slid my hands underneath the arm that was around my neck and pushed, my fingers feeling the smooth raised skin of his scar.

  "You’re choking me."

  To my surprise, his grip relaxed a little. But his next words chilled me.

  "We can’t have that. I don’t want to leave any marks on you. I want this to look like an accident. Just a tragic mistake. And a big bruise on your neck wouldn’t look accidental, would it?"

  Duke said, "Johnny, come on, man, can’t you see she’s scared enough now? She won’t tell nobody else now."

  "Duke, you dumbass, the point is, she already told the police that she saw me shoot Eric. It doesn’t get much worse than that, for me. And she’s not going to just walk into the police station and say, ‘Oh, never mind, I was wrong.’ She identified me. Don’t you get it?"

  "But—"

  "But nothing. Come over here and help me get her below. I got a plan."

  In the darkness, Duke moved forward. Rumbar moved so that his back was to the companionway. "What I want you to do is grab her feet and hold her legs. I’m going to walk down the steps, and you gotta hold her good until I get down there and can haul her in."

  He let go of my waist and my neck, but grabbed my ponytail again while he stepped into the companionway, yanking my hair hard enough that it pulled me off balance. I sat down, painfully, and Duke, muttering under his breath, grabbed my knees, leaning his weight on them so that I couldn’t move.

  "Okay, make sure you got a good grip on her. I’m gonna pull her down here."

  He put his hands under my arms and started to lift me up and over the step.
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  I let my arms go limp, like a two-year-old that doesn’t want to be picked up. Rumbar couldn’t get a good grip with me sagging against him.

  Just then, the radio crackled.

  "Thief of Time. Thief of Time. Please acknowledge." Alex’s voice.

  Rumbar laughed in my ear. "See, I told you he’s okay." Then, as I continued to dangle limply against him, he snapped, "Damn it, woman, don’t make this harder on yourself. Duke, help me. Pick up her legs."

  Alex’s voice came again, "Thief of Time. Thief of Time. Thief of Time. Please acknowledge."

  Rumbar was standing behind me, probably two steps up from the bottom of the companionway. He leaned against me, still trying to get a hold on me.

  "Thief of Time. Please acknowledge. Shelby, are you there? Acknowledge." A pause, then, "I’m back at the dinghy. I should be back before too long."

  Rumbar laughed again and said, "I doubt that. I left a little surprise for him. We’ll be hearing from him again soon, I bet. Come on, Duke, grab her legs and help me."

  Duke stopped leaning on my knees and started to slip his hands underneath them. As fast as I could, I brought my knees up to my chest and then kicked Duke, hard, arching backward at the same time. Duke let go of my legs and staggered away with a grunt, doubled over. My momentum made Rumbar rock unsteadily. For a moment, I thought I’d miscalculated. I thought I’d be dragged backward with him, down the stairs. But reflex kicked in, and he let go of me so he could grab the handholds before he fell. I pivoted around and kicked him in the chest.

  But he wasn’t Duke. He was much faster, much meaner, and much stronger. Even as he swore at me, he let go of the rail with his right hand and grabbed my ankle. His grip was like a vise. He recovered his balance, let go of the other handhold, and wrapped his left hand around my ankle. He began twisting.

  That really hurt. I rolled to one side, trying to relieve the pain and pressure, biting my lip to keep from screaming.

  Rumbar laughed. "See what you did, Shelby? You should have just cooperated. You really should just make this easy on yourself. My plan’s good. It won’t hurt. Right now, you’re just causing yourself unnecessary pain."

  He kept twisting, and I kept rolling, trying to keep him from breaking my ankle. I gasped, unable to help myself. He looked into my eyes and laughed, enjoying my suffering.

  "Duke! Where are you? Get over here and help me get her down."

  Duke, who had been hovering out of my reach, moved forward unwillingly. He came to stand just inside the circle of light that was spilling from the cabin. He looked miserable.

  "I’m real sorry, Shelby," he whispered. "Real sorry. But he’ll kill me if I don’t help him. He’ll kill me. He told me so. But I swear, I didn’t think this was gonna happen to you. I swear."

  "Grab her around the waist and lift her down to me." Rumbar kept the pressure on my ankle, so that I couldn’t fight him. This time, I was helpless to get free, and Duke handed me down to Rumbar as if I were a sack of flour. As soon as my feet were on the floor, Rumbar grabbed my hands, wrapping his arms around me and forcing my arms to cross behind me. He slid his hands up to my elbows, pushing upward. It hurt, really hurt, just like the pressure he’d put on my ankle.

  Worse, it brought me face to face with him. His body leaned into mine, too close. Disgusted, I tried to jerk free, only to have him push harder on my arms. He leaned close, laughing into my face.

  "I keep telling you, Shelby Hope, to stop fighting me. You can’t win. Duke, come on down here." He pivoted, still keeping me close, but moving me out of the way so Duke could climb down the stairs.

  I saw that Duke was crying. Rumbar saw it too. "Aw, look, the girl kicked you, and now you’re crying like a baby."

  Duke sniffed and said, "I’m not cryin cause she kicked me. I’m…this is wrong, Johnny, don’t you see that?"

  "I think you are in love with her. Well, she’s really pretty. I guess I can understand that." He was looking at me again, an expression in his eyes that I didn’t like. I twisted away from him, causing him to tighten his grip again and making me cry out in pain.

  "Okay, I can see here that we’re going to have to start working on the plan right away. I was hoping I could talk to you for a little while first. Get to know you a little bit better, get to know the woman that’s caused me all this trouble. See if you’d be willing to apologize to me. You know. But you just don’t listen, do you? You just don’t try very hard to be nice. And, much as I’d like to stretch this out, I guess I should just get down to business and be on my way. Duke, look around. See what you can find in the way of alcohol."

  "Alcohol?"

  "Yeah, wine, beer, liquor. Anything will do. And get a glass out."

  "One for each of us?"

  Rumbar looked at Duke in disbelief. "Are you serious? No. One glass. For Shelby. Got it?"

  Duke wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  "And quit sniveling. Dry up. Be a man."

  Duke gave a last sniff and wiped his eyes on the hem of his shirt. He began rooting through the cupboards in the galley, finding a bottle of tequila that was half-full. We’d made margaritas with the other half, in Portsmouth. God, that seemed like a long time ago. Duke pulled a tumbler out of the rack.

  "Okay, pour some out." Duke poured, his hands shaking.

  "Let’s see. What’s going to be the best way to do this?" Rumbar said.

  I wanted to get as close to the galley as possible. If I could slip away, even for a moment, maybe I could grab one of the knives in the rack.

  "What are you going do to her?" Duke asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "Well, I’m going to pour alcohol down her throat. A lot of alcohol. Then, once she’s good and drunk, I’m going to toss her into the river and let nature take its course. Happens a lot—people out boating get too drunk to save themselves when they fall in. Terrible accident. And she’s been through a lot lately. It’ll be no wonder she got drunk, here all by herself."

  "Johnny, I—"

  "Duke, will you just shut up? I really cannot believe that I’m related to you. I never met such a—aw, jeez, are you crying again?"

  "Related?" I said, with surprise. "You and Duke are related?"

  "Yeah, we’re cousins," Rumbar said. "My dad and his mom are brother and sister." He grinned down into my face. My stomach tightened. It was revolting to have him holding me like this.

  I looked at Duke. He nodded, miserably. I thought back to our conversation in Elizabeth City, when he’d told me his cousins had treated him badly, growing up.

  "So, wait a minute, the guy that was killed, Eric Bluesky, was your cousin too?"

  Duke nodded again.

  "They both are the cousins you used to sail with?" I persisted, trying to make some sense of this.

  "Yeah, them and Ivan."

  "Who’s Ivan?" I asked.

  "Ivan was with—"

  "Enough of this chatter," Rumbar interrupted. "Back to my problem. How are we going to do this? I don’t suppose you’ll just drink up for me, will you?"

  I snorted, with much more bravado than I felt.

  "Well, okay, the hard way it is then. You’ll regret this." He piloted me toward the settee, holding tight. "I think what we’ll do," as he released my arms and pushed me down hard onto the cushion, "is I’ll hold you down while Duke does the honors." I heard Duke moving around the galley. Rumbar straddled my lap, with my hands underneath his knees. I couldn’t fight him off. My arms and hands were tingling and dead from being held behind my back. He rocked up, grinding his knees into my wrists. I squirmed, trying to break away. But he was too strong.

  Alex’s voice came again on the radio, "Thief of Time. Thief of Time. Please acknowledge." After a short pause, he went on, "Thief of Time, I don’t know if you can hear me and just can’t transmit. There’s some kind of problem with the dinghy engine. It won’t start. I’m not sure what to do."

  "See, what did I tell you, Shelby?" Rumbar said, grinning. "All right, Duke, bring over the firs
t glass." He grabbed my ponytail with one hand and squeezed my jaw with the other, trying to force my mouth open. I did my best to bite him. He laughed.

  "Shelby, Shelby, Shelby. In a different time and place, you and me might have a little fun. But I’m starting to lose my patience with you. Duke, get over here. I’m going to get her mouth open, and you start pouring liquor down her throat, understand?"

  Rumbar pulled hard on my ponytail, tilting my head back as far as it would go. Then, even though I kept my teeth clenched as tightly as I could, he forced my lips apart.

  "Now pour, Duke."

  Duke began pouring the tequila into my mouth. I tried whipping my head away, but Rumbar held on tight. All that I managed to do was dribble a little down the front of my shirt. And I couldn’t help it. I swallowed part of it.

  "Keep pouring, Duke, she’s gonna drink up." Duke poured more. This time, I let as much as possible run out of my mouth, refusing to swallow. I wanted to spit, but couldn’t because Rumbar was holding my jaw too tightly. Again, though, I couldn’t help drinking some of it. Duke kept pouring until the tumbler was empty.

  "Go pour another glass. And get me a spoon," Rumbar said, tersely.

  Duke carried the tumbler into the galley with him and began rummaging again. A moment later, he returned with a spoon and the refilled cup.

  "Now, you gotta be quick. I’m going to force her mouth open. Stick the spoon in there, so that it keeps her teeth apart. Shelby, you’re not going to want to bite down on that. You’ll break your teeth, and that will hurt a lot more than getting drunk. Make this easy on yourself."

  He leaned against me, his body against my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. Wrapping my ponytail in his fist to keep the leverage, he used both hands to pry my jaw open. Duke stuck the spoon in. Rumbar was right. I didn’t want to bite down. But I didn’t want to be force-fed alcohol either.

  Duke looked at me then, the puppy eyes shining with tears. "Just drink it, Shelby. He always gets his way. Don’t fight him no more, okay?" He tilted the tumbler against my mouth. This time, I couldn’t keep the liquid from running down my throat.

 

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