Henry realized he didn’t want to do this. The wandering attention was simply a symptom of his resistance. In a way, Ruth felt like his daughter. He remembered her as a child, running through the manor and his heart softened. Tears burned in his eyes and he blinked them away, cursing himself for a fool. He had no choice in this. If he didn’t kill Ruth by next weekend, his would be the next funeral. This was the price required to finalize his debt and the mob wasn’t very forgiving.
“I should have done her last night.”
The thought of looking into her eyes while he did the deed did not appeal to Henry. He acknowledged his reluctance as an act of cowardice. Still, tonight he would get things over with during the storm. The wind and rain would keep the island’s other residents indoors and no one would hear her if she screamed. Henry remained determined to make her death seem like an accident. He had to be very careful. The last thing he needed was the cops showing up to hassle him.
Henry left the cabin so he could keep an eye on Ruth. He cowered in the brush when she returned to the house. Hours passed and slowly, the storm gathered as darkness fell. The wind rose steadily until it whipped branches back and forth, lashing the cabin’s windowpanes. Rain started haltingly and then fell in earnest. He didn’t mind getting a little wet, but this was too much. Henry left the tree line, looking around for somewhere to take shelter. He remembered the small tool shed not far from the cabin, but movement caught his eye before he could get to the shelter. A light came on in the cabin’s second floor and he looked upward toward the window.
Anger surged through his veins when he made eye contact with Ruth. In an instant, she had completely ruined his plans. Henry had wanted to grant Ruth the gift of a quiet, painless death. She wouldn’t be ignorant enough to believe his presence on the island was coincidence. Henry felt backed into a corner and didn’t react well to the change in plan. The “accidental” death was no longer possible.
Henry headed for the cabin. Now that it was time, he wanted this over with quickly. At least he could get out of this damned weather. A convenient downstairs window, easily smashed, led directly into the laundry room. Henry winced as the skin of his knuckles gave way beneath the glass. He shook off the pain and entered the cabin, his senses on high alert. One thing about this assignment was that Henry knew his quarry.
Fancy thinking considering he hadn’t ever killed anyone in his life. Henry had seen lots of movies, though. Ruth was a smart girl and he could expect her to find a weapon of some kind. If he wasn’t careful, Henry would become the prey. His boots were heavy with rainwater and mud, but he tried to step quietly as he traveled into the entryway. There was nothing he could do about the trail he left. Henry had last seen Ruth through an upstairs window. He had to assume she was still on the second floor and needed to clear that level first.
Quick and thorough, he cleared every room upstairs including the three small closets. Henry didn’t think she would run out in the rain, though that would probably be the smartest thing to do. Ruth Gallagher was a pampered woman, accustomed to people waiting on her and bringing her everything she needed. She had undoubtedly already called the cops, but she would be dead before they arrived.
Henry frowned, disgruntled but determined to finish this and vanish. He descended into the main floor and lunged through the bathroom doorway, moving fast. If Ruth was hiding behind the door, he didn’t want to give her a chance to bash him on the head as he entered. His coat sleeve caught on something and he cringed as a vase crashed to the floor. It shattered on the ceramic tile.
Ruth wasn’t in the bathroom. He moved into the living room, scanning with the aid of light cast by the fire. Nothing. Henry’s body remained still, but his eyes swiveled to the one remaining place where Ruth could hide. Process of elimination told him she was in the kitchen. It was possible she had crouched down in the pantry.
Henry called out to her, inviting Ruth to give up. He didn’t expect her to do so, but hoped to scare her into carelessness. He wasn’t looking forward to this next step, but at least it was almost over. That thought made him smile.
Boldly, Henry stepped around the eating area and into the long, narrow room. Lightning streaked outside the window, illuminating Ruth where she crouched against the cabinetry. He heard her scream into the phone, begging her lover for help. Ruth looked up at him with fear shining in her dark eyes. Sympathy warred with determination as he looked down at her. He saw the terror that belonged solely to women in the presence of someone intent on their death.
Ruth seemed weak and helpless, kneeling with a butcher knife in one hand and a cellular phone in the other. He saw the knife tremble in her clenched hand. No doubt, help was already on the way and Henry was aware of time running out. Apparently, Ruth had the same thought.
“Henry, I don’t know why you’re doing this but you should leave. Jordan has probably already called the police.”
“Well of course she did. I know that.” Henry felt pleased with his calm response. His heart pounded, but he wouldn’t show any hesitation.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Her voice sounded small and again there was that nagging sensation. “Yes, I am. I don’t want to, but I have to. It’s you or me and trust me, Ruth, it isn’t going to be me.”
“Why, what did I ever do to you? What did Karl ever do to you?”
She was smarter than he thought. Somehow, Ruth had caught on to his connection to her friend’s death on the cliff. Henry considered answering her question, but then decided against it. The information wouldn’t help her anyway. There was no need to drag this out.
Henry stepped toward Ruth, pulling back a fraction just as she swung the knife. He felt the displacement of air as the blade whished by harmlessly. Henry pulled back his fist and punched Ruth between the eyes. He’d put all his weight behind the blow with the intent of knocking her out. Ruth slumped to the floor with her eyes closed. He felt sure he’d succeeded and considered his next move. Now that Ruth was immobilized, he thought about how to kill her.
He could just use the knife. Slit her throat and be done. That idea didn’t appeal to him. It was far too messy and he cringed at the thought of having to feel her skin part under the blade. He could make it look like a suicide attempt, but then remembered that she had already called the doctor. The police already knew there was an intruder. This could still work in his favor.
“It’ll be on the news.” Henry decided to make a statement. The people calling the shots would see the news of Ruth’s death and erase the debt he owed. “Go big or go home.”
Why couldn’t she have just done what he asked? Things could have gone so much easier. While snooping around earlier, Henry had seen a length of rope hanging from a nail inside the shed. It was exactly what he needed. He figured he had about ten more minutes before the police showed up, but it would be long enough. He would hang her from the ceiling rafters in the living room. It was a little extreme, but finding Ruth hanging would scare the hell out of Jordan Pierce. Henry didn’t really know the doctor, but he didn’t approve of their strange relationship.
Henry left by way of the back porch, the closest access to the shed. He wouldn’t be gone but a second. Windswept rain pummeled him in the face. Henry blinked and pushed out into the storm. He found the rope hanging right where he’d seen it before and turned back toward the cabin, leaving the shed door open.
He turned around just in time to see Ruth disappear around the corner of the cabin. She had regained consciousness and done the last thing he expected. She had raced out into the thunderstorm. If he lost sight of her now, he would lose her in the weather. Panic made his heart race even faster and he shouted out for her to stop. The wind caught and tossed his voice, rendering it likely that she’d never heard him. When he’d thought her unconscious, Henry felt he had time to carry out his plan. With her awake, there was the chance she could evade him until help arrived.
She staggered slightly as she disappeared into the shadows. Clearly, the blow he’d de
alt had shaken her. Henry rushed to catch her before her mind cleared. He strode into the rain and the night, giving up the idea of making a statement. Now he would just snap her neck. In this weather, she wouldn’t go to the pier. It would be stupid to brave the open sea. That narrowed his search considerably. Either she would head to one of the other island cabins or she would go to the cove.
Fortunately, Henry had done his homework. Ruth had not. She had isolated herself while he checked out the neighbors. He knew that two of the cabin owners worked during the week and stayed on the mainland. The final residence was a timeshare, vacant much of the time. They all carefully kept the doors and windows locked against intruders. Short of breaking and entering, that would leave Ruth only one place to go. Henry seriously doubted that she even knew the location of the other cabins. The only real threat was that she might circle back. Instinctively, he sprinted for the cove.
Sure on his feet and accustomed to the island’s layout even in the dark Henry soon glimpsed the back of Ruth’s rain soaked shirt as she scrambled through the trees. Her limp seemed pronounced. He assumed that was part of the reason for his ease in catching up to her.
RUTH RAN AS quickly as she could through the driving rain. Hair plastered over her eyes, obscuring her vision even as water streamed like a flood down her face. She was shaking hard from the cold and damp and knew she had to get control of herself. No matter how she tried to suppress the tremors, she just couldn’t. Henry was trying to kill her. But why?
Her mind raced furiously as she tried to find the answer, but there wasn’t one. Ruth couldn’t afford to focus on that question. Right now, it didn’t matter. It was far more important to get away from him. She felt driven to reach the cove, convinced that she could find an effective hiding place at the small inlet. She only had to evade his pursuit until the police arrived. Jordan wouldn’t be far behind them.
A saturated tree limb smacked her in the face. Ruth pushed through without pause. She couldn’t hear Henry in the storm, but he had to have seen her run out of the cabin. Ruth wasn’t accustomed to running around the island at night, much less in this kind of weather. Doubts began to assail her. Was the cove this way or had she taken a wrong turn? She wanted to stop and assess her position, but there was simply no time. Ruth realized she had left the cell phone lying on the kitchen floor. At least she’d had the good sense to bring the chopping knife.
Ruth chanced a quick look over her shoulder. She barely caught the flapping motion of Henry’s coattail not far away. Her eyes widened in fear and she took off again. Unfortunately, the majority of her attention wasn’t on where she planted her feet. Ruth suddenly found herself airborne. A moment later, she hit the ground with a thud. The breath whooshed from her lungs as she struck the bottom of a small ravine. The knife flew off into the darkness. Ruth regretted the loss, pushing to her feet and scrambling up the other side of the small embankment. She couldn’t waste time trying to find the knife in such deep shadows with Henry so close.
The storm had drenched the dirt bank, creating a muddy mess. Ruth slipped and scrabbled through the sludge until she finally reached the top. She could only hope that Henry fell into the ravine, too. It would give her some space. In fact, she prayed that he broke his leg.
Ruth reached the edge of the pit and lunged to her feet. Breathing hard, she checked behind her and saw Henry calmly stopped at the far side of the wash. He actually smiled at her.
“Where are you going, Ruth? To the cove?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Henry ignored the question. “You’re not going to accomplish anything by running around in this storm. Let’s just get it over with.”
As if. Ruth wasn’t about to give in, but she did want to buy some time until help arrived. “The least you can do is tell me why. Don’t you at least owe me that?”
“Aren’t you feisty? Then again, you always were. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”
“Right, I can tell how much you respect me. Since you’re going to kill me anyway, why not just answer the question?”
Henry shook his head, shaking some of the rainwater away. “Sorry, no can do.”
He reached into the coat pocket and drew out a length of rope. Henry grasped the loose end and wrapped it around his free hand. When he snapped the line taut with the other hand, Ruth could guess what he intended to do. He stepped toward the draw and Ruth sprinted away toward the beach. Since he knew about the cove, that was no longer an option. She had no choice but to try for the Marlin. Braving the roiling seas seemed like a better option than going up against a muscle-bound psycho.
Ruth tried to make it look like she was headed back to the cabin to barricade herself inside. All she needed was a couple of minutes’ delay to untie the boat and shove off. Henry would never be able to catch her in the crashing waves. Limping as fast as possible, she crouched and scampered through the trees. Thorns and branches scratched mercilessly at her arms and face. Ruth glanced repeatedly over her shoulder, but couldn’t see Henry.
She finally arrived on the beach liberally covered in muck. Her hands were so slimy that she had to wipe them on her wet jeans before she could release the mooring ropes. She jumped aboard the ship without ever catching sight of Henry. For the first time in what felt like hours, Ruth could take a calming breath. She didn’t know how long it had been since she called Jordan, but the police had to be close by now. Shore patrol would probably arrive before them. If she used the motors and headed for Jessup Bay, Ruth could meet them halfway.
Although rain fell in enough volume to make ark builders pause in contemplation, the seas weren’t overly rough. Ruth had to remember that this wasn’t the New England territories. It was the West Coast. The water was choppy but with the onboard equipment she should be able to navigate easily to the mainland.
Ruth turned on the trolling motor and maneuvered through shallow waters until she had enough depth to turn the engines up to full throttle. With every inch of distance between her and the island, Ruth considered Henry’s betrayal. It hurt desperately to know that someone she trusted had tried to kill her. The only comfort Ruth could gain from the knowledge was that she had finally identified Karl’s killer. Henry wouldn’t be able to hide from the authorities for long.
The rain tapered off somewhat and Ruth hoped it would soon stop. She navigated out of the bay, but was only a few miles off shore when the engines sputtered and stalled completely. During her earlier preparations for the fishing trip, she had topped off the fuel tanks. She couldn’t be out of gas.
“What now?”
The boat would be susceptible to the currents without the engines. The current would carry her off course. The chances were high that shore patrol would never see her, even with the lights on and assuming they were looking.
Ruth had a bad feeling about the engine failure. Although she felt sure she’d left Henry behind on Ghost Island, at some point he must have tampered with the ship. It wasn’t likely that they just happened to fail at such a critical moment. Jordan clearly kept the craft in top running condition so Henry was the only explanation Ruth could see. She just hoped that whatever he had done, she could repair the damage.
“Not unless my luck changes,” Ruth muttered.
She grabbed a flashlight from the main cabin on her way below deck. The engine compartment would be completely dark. It wasn’t really a room, Ruth considered. More of a four-by-four foot cabinet. She opened the door but before she could cross the threshold, she heard a furtive sound.
Ruth spun around, but didn’t find anything lurking behind her. She shook her head at the jumpiness and tried to calm down as she entered the engine compartment. Just as she knelt down to investigate the damage, a rope dropped down in front of her face. Powerful hands hauled backward and the rope mashed against Ruth’s throat. She had inhaled reflexively before the garrote cut off her breath, but she was still pinned against Henry’s barrel chest.
Her fingers wrapped around the rope and
Ruth attempted to pull it free so she could breathe. At the same, she kicked backward as hard as she could. Her heel connected solidly with Henry’s shin. The ship’s unpredictable rise and fall against the waves combined with the blow was barely enough to throw Henry off balance. Ruth heard him curse and felt his grip lessen.
It wasn’t much, but now there was enough room for her to take advantage. She held onto the rope tightly and rammed her head backward. She felt her skull connect with the bridge of Henry’s nose. Henry released her completely and dropped to one knee. Ruth made a beeline topside as soon as he hit the floor. She heard his roar of anger and the pounding footsteps that told her he wasn’t far behind.
Ruth scrambled up the steps, but he caught her before she cleared the final riser. A meaty hand wrapped around one ankle, tripping Ruth up and causing her to bruise a knee against the unyielding wood. If she hadn’t been fighting for her life, the pain would have proved excruciating.
The unrelenting attack caused Ruth’s fear to morph into fury. She flipped onto her back and lashed out with her free foot. She caught Henry squarely on the chin, knocking him back into the hold. Ruth didn’t give him time to regroup. She scampered backward far enough to slam and lock the hatch. The tiny cabinet latch was pretty flimsy so Ruth slid the additional bolt into place as well.
Ruth knew that wouldn’t hold Henry for long and she wasn’t going anywhere without the engines. She ran for the main cabin and the radio, trembling from both the exposure to cold and her own terror. Ruth prayed that the coast guard or marina police were somewhere nearby, already alerted to her situation. She reached for the mic.
“Mayday, mayday,” she shouted over the storm. “This is Ruth Gallagher. I’m on the sailing yacht Marlin approximately three miles east of Ghost Island. I’m headed for Jessup Bay. I have a man that is trying to kill me locked in the hold.”
Illusive Witness Page 10