Turtle Island

by Caffeine Nights Publishing

  ‘She'll only tell you, she won't even tell me.’

  ‘Looks like I'll sit this one out.’ Leroy said, watching Georgina take two stairs at a time.

  ‘Coffee, Mr LaPortiere?’ Narla asked, then added. ‘It's already brewed.’

  ‘That would be fine.’

  ‘How do you like it?’

  ‘Sweet and white.’ Leroy replied.

  ‘Don't tell me; just like your women.’ Narla joked, she didn't know why she joked; she certainly didn't feel funny.

  Georgina grasped the handle to the bedroom door and pushed it open. The sound of a printer continuously working was audible just above a CD, which was playing through the speakers of Harley's computer, where she was sitting. Kelly Clarkson was going through another therapy session. The computer screen was on and Georgina didn't need to guess what the image flickering on the small monitor was.

  Harley didn't turn. ‘104 Headbridge. It's a mile or so upriver from the three bridges. The house is an old wooden constructed colonial style.’ She leaned forward and clicked her mouse. The image on the screen changed and the house appeared. Georgina moved closer ‘What...Where did you get this?’ She was dumbfounded and for a moment her legs felt leaden, then her heart started pumping as adrenaline began to surge through her.

  ‘I found it in a folder marked homework, except I knew it wasn't mine. It wasn’t even on this computer it was on a web based online storage account. I tried all of the names listed with various e-mail web based accounts. Dad wasn’t too imaginative about the password…Harley. Guess he thought no one would ever find it.’

  Georgina sat beside the young girl. ‘What else is in there?’

  ‘You know, I remember the house. My father took me there, a couple of times, we were always at different places, different houses he had on the market, usually furnished though, but I remember this one because it was empty, except for bed and a few other things..’ Harley closed her eyes to recollect. ‘There was a load of cameras, videos…you know.’

  Georgina put her arm around the fragile child. Harley clicked on the image and the live feed to Jo-Lynn returned.

  ‘That's a flood chamber. It's at the back of the house but connected by stairs, first to the basement then directly into the house.’ The noise of the printer suddenly stopped. Harley stood and walked over to the tray by the printer and collected a pile of printouts. She rearranged the order, tapped them into a neat pile before sliding them into a bright fluorescent orange folder and then handed them to Georgina.

  ‘Catch them.’ She looked pleadingly. ‘Please.’

  ‘What's in here?’

  ‘Everything I could find.’ Harley looked sad. The hidden emotion was drawing to the surface, the turmoil of abuse and victimisation, the indignity and suffocation of her childhood. Georgina flipped open the folder. She sat back on the bed so that she was eye level with the young girl.

  ‘Sometimes I knew that the things they were doing to me was wrong. Daddy always said that they would stop if they hurt me…but they never did and after a while it kinda felt funny.’

  Georgina held her breath. The silence in the room echoed.

  ‘Was it wrong?’ Harley asked, confusion written across her face. ‘Was it wrong to sometimes like the feeling?’

  Georgina placed her arm around Harley’s shoulder and pulled her closer to her and hugged her. She couldn’t look into Harley’s eyes for fear of breaking down. ‘No…of course it wasn’t, you must never think that.’

  Photographs, pictures that she had never seen before; faces. Faces she recognised. Ordinary people, vile people. Georgina shivered. She was leaving the bedroom and running down the stairs. As she reached the foot of the stairs, Narla was handing a cup of coffee to Leroy.

  ‘No time, Leroy. Gotta go, now.’ She took the cup from his grasp and placed it down on the floor.

  ‘Where to?’ He asked.

  ‘I need the quickest way to Headbridge.’ She looked down the road but the helicopter was gone. ‘Shit!’

  Narla raced to her jacket hanging in the hall. ‘Here take my Jeep, it's parked in the garage.’

  Georgina didn't need a second invitation and snatched the keys from Narla's hand.

  ‘Press the remote.’ Narla called after them. ‘It operates the garage door.’

  As she ran, Georgina depressed the tiny black button attached to the key fob. Within seconds they were safely inside the vehicle with the engine roaring to life. Georgina screeched out of the garage, with Leroy holding on to the dash to steady himself.

  ‘Be careful…it’s new.’ Narla vainly called after them. Knowing that they would never hear.

  After a few seconds racing along the highway, Georgina took the folder off her lap and handed it too Leroy.

  ‘Seems there was a lot more on Harley's computer that we first thought.’

  Leroy opened the brightly coloured folder. His stomach turned but this time it was to do with Georgina's driving.

  ‘Have you a weapon?’ She asked crunching the gears as her foot prematurely disengaged the clutch.

  Leroy patted his side. ‘Browning.’

  ‘Browning?’ Georgina said surprised

  ‘It's not regulation issue. It’s for my own personal protection. You?’ Leroy enquired.

  ‘Berretta. It’s back at the motel in the safe.’

  ‘Oh, fine.’

  ‘I know. I meant to pick it up.’

  Leroy looked at the clock on the dash. ‘Is that thing right?’

  Georgina glanced. ‘Fuck’ She stepped harder on the gas pedal. ‘Fifty-five minutes. How much further?’

  ‘About five minutes to Independence Bridge, then another eight, maybe ten minutes, that's if everything is clear.’ Leroy answered, remembering back to the chaos of the crashed lorry and the gridlock of vehicles.

  The RV4 accelerated, pressing both Georgina and Leroy back further into their seats.

  Leroy took out his phone. ‘I call ahead, see if it’s clear.’

  ‘You can't.’ Georgina stressed. ‘Open the folder.’

  The photograph was not printed in the best quality, but the image was well defined and in focus, there could be no disputing who the man with Harley was, the balding head, slightly ruddy complexion, puffy overweight face and neck. Leroy knew Norman Frusco at a glance, the picture would have to have been a hell of a lot more unclear for there to have been even one grain of uncertainty.

  ‘Looks like we're on our own.’ Georgina could see the iron framework of the bridge, half a mile or so away, down the straight road.

  The rain was now beginning to fill the sides of the road and in one or two uneven places was forming in larger pools that coved the expanse of tar macadam. The wipers continually cleared the windscreen but the left one seemed to smear more than clear. Red taillights ahead suggested traffic. Georgina prayed that it wasn't still the congestion from earlier. As they drew nearer the reality became an alternative scenario that she didn't want to think about. Leroy saw the flashing light. The deputy was standing in the centre of the road wearing a waterproof cagoule that unlike the officer, appeared to have failed in its duty. He was swinging his torch from left to right slowing all the cars crossing Independence Bridge.

  ‘What we gonna do?’ Georgina asked as they neared the tail back. There were five cars ahead in the line before it was their turn.

  ‘I dunno.’ Leroy said, and then added. ‘Keep cool. Hopefully Frusco doesn’t know what sort of car to look for.’

  ‘No, but there won't be many cars out here with a black guy and a white girl.’

  ‘Okay…okay.’

  The last stationary vehicle; a silver Toyota Celica was now fifty yards ahead of Georgina.

  ‘Think fast, Leroy, think fast.’

  ‘You know I thought you would appreciate the irony of it all.’ Prentice Fortune whispered in her ear. The breath from his lips clouded as a fine mist in the cool damp atmosphere. Jo-Lynn could feel the warm air caress her ear. Her spine retracted in an involuntary spa
sm, ending a shiver through her bones. This was the only confirmation to her that she was still alive; any sense of feeling in her body had been numbed by the freezing cold water, there was no space for emotion anymore in her mind, all that was left there was a vacuous hollow and resignation that she was going to die after all she had been through; her life was going to end in a flooded basement. The water covered her chest and was beginning to move up her arms toward her shoulders.

  ‘What does it feel like to know that your husband used to rent out your little girl, your pride and joy. Did he come home to you after energised and give you something to remember. Well, he gave me something to remember when he killed my girlfriend. Sweet as honey, but Ricky boy killed her, killed Jordan too. One mad moment, one rush of blood.’

  ‘Let me go please, I’ll do anything you want.’ Jo-Lynn did not want to hear any more of his corruption.

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself honey. You look like shit, you smell like shit and your way too old. You know you really shouldn't have tried to run away. I was going to make it quick, spare the pain. Give my viewers a bit of an adrenaline rush. But now…’ He sighed as though the effort of completing the sentence was too much. ‘Now I think, sloooooowly is the order of the day. What do you think?’ His hand moved around to his back. Jo-Lynn heard the scrape of metal as he withdrew a different knife from a sheath, it rubbed against the leather housing it was encased in. The knife was long, about 11 to 12 inches from tip to butt and the teeth serrated, almost barbed. The blade edge was extremely thin, around two inches across the width at the widest point.

  ‘A cut here, a cut there. I would imagine that the blood going into the water should get the rats into quite a frenzy. If you are extremely lucky I may get heavy handed, or too excited, if not…I'm sure the rats will finish you off…eventually.’ He grinned. Perfect teeth, white, straight, and no gaps.

  Jo-Lynn's eyes widened. She wanted to rise to the bait but the glint from the knife disturbed some sub-conscious desire for survival that even now existed when hope was all but gone.

  ‘I wonder if you taste as good as Jordan did?’ Prentice Fortune’s tongue slithered out and ran a trail of wetness across her cheek. ‘Ooh, not too fresh.’ He mocked in a camp tone.

  ‘Come on Leroy, we're getting closer. Any minute now and they'll be able to see in.’

  Leroy crouched down in the rear foot well. Georgina desperately tried to cover him with a picnic blanket that she found lying on the rear parcel shelf. She started to slow the car as the policeman played god, beckoning some cars through and asking others to pull over to the side. Leroy's hand wrestled his pistol from its holster, just in case.

  ‘Come on, come on. Let us through.’ Georgina was biting her pinched lips. She could see the policeman’s rain splattered features through the darkening evening gloom. He looked about as pissed with the detail as he could possibly be. Georgina hated herself for doing it but she unbuttoned her blouse by three buttons and stretched open the material to expose a little bargaining power. She was loathed to think that most difficult situations could be resolved with the flash of a pert breast but where men were concerned, especially dumb asses standing in the pissing rain on a no win duty, it appeared to be a fact of life. She stopped the car and wound down the window. It was an officer that she hadn't seen before.

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am.’ The dumb ass shouted above the rain and the noise from the car engine. ‘Can I ask where you are heading?’

  ‘Is there a problem officer?’ Georgina noticed his eyes were already fishing through the gap in her blouse; so predictable. Though in the wet, torchlight night, she had to admit to herself that he looked cute. ‘I work at the hospital, I'm just going home.’ Georgina lied, hoping that he was as dumb as he looked. The rain was now bouncing so hard off the car's roof that Georgina had difficulty hearing the officer.

  ‘Hey, small world, my girlfriend works there.’ A smile briefly flashed across his soaked features. ‘Maybe you know her. Julie Cardonez?’

  Georgina gripped the steering wheel tighter and her foot hovered over the accelerator.

  ‘Julie Cardonez?’ Georgina repeated, as though searching through her memory for a face to fit the name. ‘I'm kinda new there so…Julie?’

  The officer nodded, sending a shower of rain down to the ground from the plastic protector fitted over his cap.

  ‘Dark hair, kinda sexy…brown eyes.’

  ‘Yeah, that's her.’

  ‘Yeah, I've spoken to her a couple of times but not much. As I said I'm new there.’ Georgina noticed the cop’s eyes flick this way and that, as they all but left his sockets and jumped into her bra.

  ‘You need my ID.’ Georgina turned knowing full well that her blouse would gape even further as she pretended to fish about in her handbag. He let her pretend for a few seconds revelling in the view before saying.

  ‘Nah, you know Julie, maybe we’ll meet up some time.’ The officer stepped back. ‘Have a good evening.’

  ‘Hopefully.’ Georgina straightened in the seat.

  The officer banged on the roof of the car to see them off. Her heart began to beat rapidly as she engaged first and pulled jerkily away. She looked in the rear view, waiting to be stopped but as she pulled away she realised that they had made it onto the Island. Leroy waited for a minute before peering out from the rear foot well. ‘Phew that was a close thing, lucky you knew his girlfriend.’ He sat up and moved on to the back seat, stretching his stiffened legs as he moved.

  ‘I have no idea who he was talking about.’ Georgina began to laugh. ‘I know it’s not very PC, but I played the stereotype game.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Her name, Julie Cardonez. I just described a typical Latin American girl, nothing specific but as I described rudimentary, albeit stereotypical, features. His mind was filling in the blanks. It's a psychological test that is used on schizophrenics to gauge reaction to short term memory loss syndrome. That mixed with the fact that it's raining like the end of the world and that he was cold, wet, and probably had a 'boner' from looking at my breasts. I dare say that it has been the most entertainment he's had all evening.’

  Leroy laughed. ‘You are a cruel lady.’

  Georgina thought ‘I'm a desperate lady.’ but remained silent. She stared ahead at the relentless torrent that showed no sign of abating. Rivulets were cascading along the gutters, filling the sewerage system and beginning to flow back on itself, but this time returning with an unsavoury cargo from deep beneath the road.

  ‘104 Headbridge.’ Leroy said out of the blue. Georgina turned.

  ‘What?’

  ‘104 Headbridge.’ He stated. ‘It should mean something.’

  Georgina turned sharply to the right, any glow from florescent street lighting now disappearing to the total blackness of dead country. The road became a little rougher. Georgina switched on the headlights to full beam, though the effect barely dented the opaque concentrate of night. The glimmer from the clock mounted in the facia of the car ticked on as another quarter hour sank away to its shameful retreat.

  ‘Thirty minutes.’

  ‘Yeah that's if this motherfucker’s gonna keep his word. Why should he care about clocks, he's a psycho.’

  Georgina fumbled inside her coat and propelled a cell phone at Leroy, who caught it instinctively. ‘Call Narla, make sure Harley is logged on to the DeathCam site.’

  ‘Oh, very educational.’

  ‘No time to fuck about Leroy, we need to know if he’s back on air.’

  His fingers were already scrolling through the phones address book ready to press the autodial.

  ‘I know…I know.’

  Narla remained at the window watching the rain streak down the glass pane. The shrill from the phone nearly caused her to lose her reasoning.

  ‘Jesus.’ She pounced on the phone, eager to silence its intrusive cry. ‘Yes…She's upstairs.’ She placed the handset carefully on the glass-topped table. She ran through the lounge and stopped at the foot of the st
airs, where she called up to Harley.

  ‘Harley?’

  She waited, knowing that her daughter would be sitting on the bed with her iPod on, listening to some obscene gangsta rapper or erasing brain cells playing for hours on her Playstation.

  ‘HARLEY?’ She shouted this time, before setting foot on the first step and begrudgingly deciding that she would have to walk the whole flight. As she reached the top, the door to Harley's bedroom opened. Narla was sure that this was a little trick Harley done just to get under her skin.

  Harley had the iPod on. ‘You call?’

  ‘The phone Harley, pick up the phone.’ Narla exaggerated the movement of her mouth as though trying to communicate with a deaf person. Harley nodded. ‘No need to shout.’ She smiled knowing this really grated, but Narla was still young enough to know that this was all part of the game. Harley pulled off the headset and the music blasted from the tiny speakers. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Detective LaPortiere said he needs some information.’ Narla waited by the door.

  Harley sighed as though the very act of having to impart even more information was too much like hard work. She half-closed the door to her bedroom. Narla stepped closer, the creaking floorboard on the landing ratting on her.

  ‘You may as well come in rather than hover outside being surreptitious.’

  ‘Surreptitious.’ Narla blushed. Narla entered and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Harley placed the phone to her ear.

  ‘Uh-huh…yeah…hang on.’ She leaned forward and flicked the mouse that was sitting idle on her worktop. The screensaver on the computer changed to the familiar bar of her Internet browser and below that the live feed to Jo-Lynn Montoya.

  He looked at his watch, twenty-five minutes until eight o'clock. Twenty-five minutes until Showtime. Fortune positioned the tiny camera for optimum view and moved the harsh halogen lamp that was now beaming directly into Jo-Lynn's face. In the past half hour the water level had risen by six inches, maybe more. The lead from the lamp stretched upwards and disappeared into the darkness above, maybe into a light socket, it was difficult to tell from where Jo-Lynn was sitting. She felt relief when he dragged Rick from the water and dumped his body unceremoniously on the decking. Rick hadn’t moved since and she had no way of knowing if he was dead or alive. If what Fortune had told her was true maybe it no longer mattered.