Dead for the Money

by Peg Herring

  Still, there were people who might care, people like Scarlet and Shelley and Briggs, who might even miss her. And there were things she wanted to do. Help kids. Go to culinary school. Even work with Bud, if he’d meant what he said that day. Her life might not be the most important one on the planet, but it was hers, and she wanted it.

  The deck of the bridge was where the fog seemed thickest, and the security lights above looked like candles behind a curtain. She hoped to stop a passing car, but under these conditions, she might be hit by one instead. There would not be many chances at this hour, either. As she listened, a lone car approached from the north. It came slowly, as conditions and the speed limit required. Turning, Brodie saw a flash of movement. Leland’s head and shoulders appeared above the railing. Her hopes that he had given up died.

  The car’s headlights finally showed in the grayness, and Brodie stepped in front of it, waving her arms frantically. The driver, a lone woman, at first did not see her, and Brodie jumped out of the way at the last moment. The woman turned, surprise and confusion on her face. She slowed and looked about to stop, but the confused expression gave way to an angry frown and she sped away.

  Brodie sobbed aloud, imagining the woman’s thought. Seeing no reason for a kid to be flagging down cars on the bridge, she’d concluded it was some kind of prank. I’m not that kind of girl! Brodie wanted to shout after her. I used to be, but not anymore!

  Once the car was gone, Leland, who had stood back as the car passed, stepped onto the bridge, appearing out of the fog like a creature from another world. His face was different now, not friendly, not coaxing. “Get over here!” he called. “Or you’re gonna be sorry.”

  MILDRED WAS AT A LOSS. As badly as she wanted to keep Leland from chasing Brodie onto the bridge, she had begun to consider the consequences for herself. The man’s thoughts were less and less rational, and even if she thought he would listen, she had no idea what words might have an effect.

  When Leland came to the end of the catwalk, Mildred had whispered, “Back. Back.” He paid no attention whatsoever but stopped, listening. Above him he heard a grunt of exertion followed by a metallic clank. “She’s above me.”

  Mildred tried again to stop him. “No!” she cried. “Back! Canada! Home!”

  Leland’s response was a sound an animal in a trap might make: uncomprehending fear and unreasoning anger.

  BRODIE STOOD ON THE BRIDGE, unsure what to do. Leland blocked the return to Mackinaw City. She could hear no more cars coming. Having no other choice, she began running north along the bridge, toward the town of St. Ignace. In a few seconds she heard pounding footsteps and knew he was coming after her. Five miles to the other side. She would never outrun him. There was no help ahead, only four empty lanes stretching before her. Below was the line of boats, possibly waiting there to save her. She doubted they could see the highway from under the bridge, especially in this fog. Should she jump and hope that one of them would fish her out of the water?

  There was little chance she would survive such a fall. Lacking other options, she continued along the bridge-way, shouting for help when breath permitted. At least the next vehicle she met—if there was one—would see the man chasing her and have a reason to stop.

  The bridge was well-maintained and smooth. Brodie ran as she had never run before, veils of mist parting and closing around her. She stayed as far as possible to the right in case a car came up behind her unheard, but she dared not take the time to slow, jump the railing, and get back on the walkway. Soon her lungs ached and her breath became ragged. Hope faded as her energy did. There was no vehicle ahead, and she heard nothing mechanical behind her, either. What she did hear was Leland, who breathed in labored huffs much like her own. He had not yet gained on her, but overall, he would win. He was bigger, had longer legs, and was, Brodie now believed, much crazier than she could ever be.

  As she searched her brain for a hope of escape, the mist parted slightly, revealing huge cables up ahead that rose along both sides of the bridge. Although they looked like extra-large tubes, Brodie knew they consisted of tons of wire, wound together and wrapped to prevent corrosion. She had seen workers walking up those cables, and she and Gramps had watched the episode of Dirty Jobs where Mike, who was as brave as anyone she could imagine, changed light bulbs 550 feet above the straits. The cables supported the weight of the bridge, suspending a million tons of weight from two massive towers. One of them rose past the railing a few feet ahead on her right.

  What if she climbed up there, like the guy on Dirty Jobs had done? Would Leland follow, or would he be afraid? There was not a lot of time to make a decision. The cable rose sharply from here, and if she did not climb on now, she would pass the point where she could reach it. Ahead were miles of empty space, shrouded in fog that blinded the safety cameras stationed along the bridge-way. Leland would almost certainly catch up with her on the flat. Above, there was hope that he would not, even could not, follow. Almost anyone would hesitate before making that climb. If she was lucky, she told herself, he might not even see her, might think she was still running ahead of him. In that case, she could simply wait until he passed by and head back to Mackinaw City. Making her decision, Brodie veered sharply to her right, jumped the railing, grasped the metal hand-rope, and hoisted herself onto the cable.

  LELAND’S MIND was a frightening coil of anger, hatred, and confusion, and Mildred quailed at what she heard. His plans were in ruins, and he focused the blame not on himself, but on the girl who raced along, out of sight at times but appearing briefly when the mist swirled aside. Brodie was running away from him, when he had done so much for her. He had offered her kindness, protection, a family even. Just like her mother, Leland thought. Only thinks about herself.

  As he raced along the bridge deck, Leland caught a glimpse of something on his right. He slowed, peering into the fog. Before his eyes, Brodie’s feet disappeared into what appeared to be thin air. She was climbing up the cable!

  He stopped, cowed by the steep incline, knowing where it led. The kid seemed willing to climb up to the tower that supported the bridge. “Is she crazy?” he muttered aloud. “Where’s she gonna go from there?” After a moment, he chuckled grimly. “She doesn’t think I’ve got the nerve.”

  To Mildred’s horror, Leland hauled himself up onto the cable. The surface was barely two feet wide. Gripping the hand-ropes firmly, first one hand and then the other, he started upward. She could feel his determination. Brodie had ruined his plan to control millions of dollars, but she was not going to put him in prison for the rest of his life to boot. Cher is right, he thought again. The kid has to die, and she has no one but herself to blame.

  As Leland climbed the cable, Mildred could not force her mind off her own situation. If her host died before she could jump to someone else, she would be marooned, a lost soul with no way to return to the ship. Seamus could not save her, even if she knew where Seamus was. If Leland got close to Brodie she could jump to her, but who was to say Brodie would live through this nightmare? They might both fall to their deaths.

  Fear clouded her mind like the fog that clouded the bridge, and she had trouble seeing the way ahead. Why had she wanted to come back? It was uncomfortable and not at all what she’d imagined. The people were difficult and unappreciative of what she tried to do to help them. And there was really nothing here on earth she would miss, now that she’d seen it all again. As Leland climbed higher, the cold mist settled on his skin and clothing. Soon his hands would become stiff, and the damp would make them slippery. The mists parted, and she saw through his eyes how far down it was to the water. Mildred went quiet, fearful of doing anything to cause Leland distress. She could not even call out to Seamus and let him know where she was. All she could do was wish she had never asked to return to life. It was not worth the pain, the trouble, and the chance that she would never be able to go on.

  BRODIE STOPPED ABOUT FIFTY FEET UP and looked behind her. At first she could see nothing, but then the mist shi
fted and she saw Leland, standing at the spot where she had begun her climb. He was not fooled by her detour. Doggedly, she continued upward. If she could not fool him, she would have to out-climb him.

  “Brodie, don’t go up there!” Leland called. “You’ll fall.” His voice was loud, and the tone struck her as false, like a public announcement.

  Then she got it. He was setting up a scenario, like a character in a play. Leland meant to see that she did fall. She turned. He had hesitated, perhaps uncertain that he could do it, but then he made his decision. She had a good head start, but her hope that he would chicken out was again in vain. As she ascended, the wind picked up, growing stronger with each step. It whipped at her hair and her clothing. She continued upward. Maybe it was a question of how high Leland could make himself go.

  THE MIST BEGAN to dispel around five a.m. At first Bud could see only the boat nearest The Gull. Then other shapes emerged like ghosts on a Hollywood set. Wisps of white hung in odd places, as if reluctant to leave, but the sky began to lighten. The sun would soon rise. The fog was doomed.

  “What’s that on the bridge?” someone shouted, and Bud turned to look. The angle was steep, but he detected movement above the dissipating fog bank. Snatching up a pair of binoculars, he focused them. Brodie was climbing the suspension cable, alternating hands as she put one foot and then the other onto the bridge support. With grim determination she looked forward to where the cable attached to the tower, five hundred feet above the water. As Bud watched, Leland appeared from a cloud of mist far below her, his face yellow in the amber glow of a nearby bulb. His climb was jerkier and he often stopped as if uncertain that he wanted to continue. Still, he climbed on.

  Scarlet appeared at his side, peering upward. “There’s someone up there?”

  “Call the bridge authority,” he told her. “Tell them Brodie’s climbing the cable, and Leland is right behind her.” He turned to Ecker. “Have you got a better pair of shoes than these?”

  Without a word, Ecker took off the sneakers he wore and handed them over. Bud kicked off his sandals and pulled Ecker’s shoes on, quickly tightening the laces.

  “What are you going to do?” Scarlet asked.

  “I’m going up there. I’ll talk to Leland, get him to give it up. Then I’ll get Brodie.”

  Scarlet looked at the small figure ascending slowly but steadily above them. “I’ll start the boat and get you as close as I can.”

  Without waiting for Bud to agree, she stepped to the back of The Gull, pulled The Lila’s tow rope to bring it toward them, and jumped aboard. Within seconds she had started the boat’s engine. “Coming through!” she called out, passing The Gull’s stern and pulling alongside. Bud dropped into the smaller boat and Scarlet took off, veering toward Mackinaw City at a clip that caused him to flail for few seconds before he found something to hold onto.

  In less than three minutes, they neared the park on the east side of the bridge. Scarlet did not slow until the last possible second, running the craft right up on shore. The boat stopped suddenly as its bottom hit sand, causing Bud to grab the side rail again. He fought a wave of nausea in his gut, and the cumulative effect of the last few days seemed to be gathering in the front of his skull, like little men with hammers were inside trying to get out. Grief combined with shock and apprehension, not to mention the pain of a minor crack in his head. Have to get to Brodie. Have to.

  Bud looked back at the bridge. Brodie was still climbing. Leland was still behind her. Both of them labored hard. Their progress appeared snail-like from the ground. He would have to be faster.

  Scarlet was about to say something but apparently thought better of it. “Call for help,” he said. Nodding, she reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone. Bud stepped onto the hull of the boat and jumped as far as he could onto the dry part of the beach. No sense climbing with wet, slippery shoes.

  The bridge-deck was high above, and he saw immediately that there was no way to reach it from the ground. He took the slope up to the Visitor’s Center at a dead run and then stopped, looking for a quick way up to the bridge deck. Hearing a voice behind him, he turned to see Scarlet, ten steps behind, speaking softly but urgently into her phone. “And a fire truck, with the longest ladder they have. And hurry.” She closed the phone and joined him.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Where should I be, then?” Scarlet wet her lips. “I have to do what I can for Brodie.”

  Bud wondered if either of them could do anything. He knew he was in no shape to be launching a rescue, but somehow, with Scarlet at his side, he knew he would try. He heard something that sounded like, “Roof. Roof.” Was there a dog nearby? Then he felt a surge of something, possibly hope, and suddenly felt a little better. The roof! That was his way up!

  Beside the building were several metal boxes that probably housed the electrical system. He climbed onto the tallest one, which put him high enough to hoist himself onto the building’s roof. Unaware that Brodie had recently done the same thing from the other side, he surveyed the bridge’s underbelly. He could reach it if he stood on the roof’s highest point. From there he would somehow make his way onto the bridge deck, get to the cable, and stop Leland.

  SEAMUS SETTLED INTO SCARLET’S mind, hoping that jumping to her had been the correct decision. Bud needed all his resources to have any chance of success. If help arrived soon, Bud would be able to retreat to safety and let the authorities capture Leland. There were other possibilities, but Seamus did not want to consider them. Whatever happened, he was a hindrance that Bud could not afford.

  Looking through Scarlet’s eyes, Seamus gauged the situation. From this vantage point the scene unfolding before them was chillingly clear. Brodie climbed high above, pulling herself upward, exhaustion obvious, her feet splayed as she sought a firm hold as the incline steepened.

  Some distance behind her, Leland did the same, but he was obviously having a harder time with it. The mists had parted, and he could now see the treacherous drop below. He often faltered, clinging to the hand-rope for a few seconds while he gathered his courage. It slowed his progress considerably. Above him, Brodie looked only ahead. Seamus picked up Scarlet’s thought—Not afraid of heights, but this is different.

  Scarlet backed away from the Visitor’s Center, trying to see Bud. He had disappeared for a few minutes, but now he appeared on the bridge deck, running full tilt down the highway. It was some distance to where the cable met the railing, maybe as much as a mile. Through Scarlet’s eyes, Seamus could only see Bud’s head and shoulders as he raced along. Then he saw headlights, and a car stopped beside him. Bud leaned into the window, telling the driver something. In seconds he was in the car. Seamus felt a glimmer of hope. There had not been much chance Bud could catch up with Leland after a mile-long run down the bridge-way, but a ride to the cable would save both time and energy. He would need both.

  Seamus sensed Scarlet’s uncertainty, and he shared it. Could Bud climb the bridge cable and face a desperate Leland? And if he did, what would the result be?

  Voices from the boats below the bridge sounded. The words were garbled, but fear vibrated in the tones. A few called out encouragement to Brodie; others shouted to Leland to leave the girl alone. Neither of the climbing figures paid them any attention. Seamus guessed that Leland was beyond reason. His only goal now seemed to be to make Brodie pay the highest price possible for ruining his plans.

  Scarlet took out her phone and began dialing 9-1-1 again, but two things happened at once. Sirens sounded in the distance, and she noticed a woman at Bud’s boat, trying to push it into the water.

  Seamus saw what Scarlet saw and knew immediately that the woman had to be Leland’s girlfriend. Concluding that his case was hopeless, she undoubtedly intended to save herself.

  Scarlet was down the slope in seconds. “Stop!”

  The woman turned, her manner unhurried and calm. “Don’t get in my way, honey. You ain’t up to it.” To stress her resolve, she brandished a lar
ge, serrated knife, meant for bread but daunting in the hands of an obviously desperate criminal.

  “You’re with him.” Scarlet glanced up to where Leland clung to the bridge, unaware that Bud had climbed onto the cable behind him.

  “I was. Now I’m on my own. Let me go, and you won’t get hurt.”

  “The police are coming.” Scarlet paused so the sound of sirens could come through. “Hear that?”

  “Then I’d best be going.” The woman gave another push, and the boat slid free of the sand. The sudden release unbalanced her, and she stumbled into the water. Before she could recover, Scarlet rushed forward and kicked her hard in the ribs. The woman doubled over, gasping for breath. Seamus wanted to cheer Scarlet’s courage. Instead he urged her to finish the job. “Push!”

  Scarlet either obeyed or had the same thought. As the woman crouched, holding her side, Scarlet pushed her, sending her into the water. She came up dripping, and unfortunately, still holding the knife. Anger distorted her face. “You bitch!” She lunged at Scarlet, but the knee-deep water slowed her. Scarlet stepped back, and the knife met only air.

  With a snarl, the woman came at her. Scarlet retreated up the sloping beach, eyes focused on the knife. Seamus felt her fear. “Stand!” he ordered. If she turned to run, she was likely to get stabbed in the back. Her best chance was to stay where she was. He guessed her opponent would opt for escape rather than revenge.

  She did. Seeing that Scarlet did not retreat, the woman backed into the water, her eyes never wavering. “See ya,” she said, putting one foot on the ladder at the stern of The Lila. Her face registered surprise when a voice behind her said, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere.”

  A hand grasped her wrist and twisted sharply, causing her to drop the knife. Another hand grabbed her other wrist and pulled it behind her body. On the other side of Bud’s boat, Seamus caught a glimpse of a rubber dinghy that had come silently up behind them.