Turtle Island: 20th Anniversary Edition (Georgina O'Neil Book 1)

by Darren E Laws

  The connection fuzzed and cracked, cutting out. Georgina couldn’t be sure whether she had been heard. She gestured to the pilot to hurry up and land.

  The helicopter began a quick decent, heading for the middle of a rain-soaked field. Water glistened in huge puddles. The fear of getting bogged in, made the pilot hover some three feet above the muddy earth.

  ‘You’ll have to jump.’ He shouted.

  Georgina looked at the distance and the ground below, at least it would be soft she consoled herself.

  ‘Wait here.’ She unbuckled herself and leapt out of the open door. Georgina landed on all fours; telephone clutched in her muddy hand and immediately ran away from the copter to a quieter location where she could safely take the call. The giant helicopter roared away and sat motionless in mid-air, suspended in its own powerful stasis. Georgina turned from the wind, which carried with it the relentless rain and placed her finger in her free ear so she could hear the conversation better. Georgina listened.

  John Keller filmed Georgina as she ran across the field waving, beckoning the helicopter to lower to allow her access. She rolled on board the cramped floor space and before she could utter a single word they were flying through the air, heading toward a plume of thick black smoke.

  Georgina noticed Norman Frusco's hand rest on Barbara's knee and squeeze a comforting embrace. The look that passed between them was brief but long enough for Georgina to pick up on.

  ‘That bastard, Andy. What the hell is he playing at?’

  Georgina managed to sit up on her haunches. Her feet rested just under her bottom, while she held onto Leroy's leg for stability. The feeling of unease and the motion was still playing havoc with her senses. The copter lurched sending Georgina's hand higher on to Leroy's thigh.

  ‘So, who called?’ Leroy asked trying to take his mind of the physical contact between them.

  ‘…Harley Fleisher.’ Her thumb and fingers gripped a little tighter. Leroy didn't know if Georgina was trying to silently pass a message to him or whether she was just trying to gain a better purchase for balance. Georgina looked at her watch. The hands were moving toward the six.

  Jo-Lynn wanted to run. She wanted to barge past the monster standing in front of her but even though he was wounded, he was bigger, faster and more powerful.

  ‘Why…Why?’ She stared at him. She saw the face of evil and eyes that were burning with hatred. A man no longer inhabited the body that stood un-bowing in front of her. She saw the face but what life there was inside was living in hell. He clawed at the broken plastic embedded in his throat, his fingers grasping the barely protruding fragments, unable to free them. He coughed and a small spurt of blood trickled down his throat from the wound.

  ‘It’s too late.’ He began. He pulled at his neck and studied the blood around the tips for a moment before continuing. ‘You know what’s so funny?’ He didn't wait for an answer. ‘It doesn’t matter what happens from here on in. I have already had my justice. Ask Rick why he let me be the first with Jordan?’

  Jo-Lynn felt numbed by his statement, then sickened at the full realisation of it. ‘Always loved children.’ He sniffed the blood on his fingers and smiled. ‘Jordan was special. Firm, just beginning to bloom.’ He breathed deeply in fond reminiscence. ‘So, so fine.’ Without warning, his hand shot out, fist clenched and made contact with Jo-Lynn’s jaw. All around her, the walls began to close in, and his words echoed in her head. Jo-Lynn's limbs began to tingle then slowly go numb. They no longer wanted to support her frame. She staggered backward two steps and bounced off her son, who tried to steady her. The floor rushed to greet Jo-Lynn as her body finally collapsed. He watched as her head cracked against the flooring, jarring back painfully. A small trickle of blood ran down the swollen and split skin on her forehead, gathering in a tiny pool on the floor. As he bent down to lift Jo-Lynn to her feet, Ray ran past, down the corridor, screaming at the top of his voice. He was going to turn and give chase but what was the point; he knew the boy could not escape. He lifted Jo-Lynn. The exertion opened the wound on his neck slightly further. His breathing rasped as he carried her, walking down the stairs back to the flood chamber. Before finally blacking out, Jo-Lynn thought what could have caused her husband to act with such total madness.

  Forty

  The whole island had stopped breathing, momentarily holding its breath. The only thing that moved was the relentless deluge of rain and the frantic efforts of the police to resolve the case before it was too late, everything else stood still, locked in a time capsule of observation. Islanders and mainlanders alike were glued to their television sets barely daring to blink, as rival TV networks fought for the best coverage and the latest scoops on events. The skies above buzzed with helicopters, small aircraft and every conceivable form of electronic media and communication.

  She was placed in a chair and bound by her hands and feet. Water swam around her thighs, brown, putrid smelling water. The first thing Jo-Lynn saw when she woke was the video camera standing on a tripod some six or seven feet in front of her. The tripod was opened to its fullest extension and the camera was near the ceiling pointing down at her. There was a red light blinking on the side of the camera, divulging its raison d'être. To the left was a bright halogen lamp, aimed directly on her, cables had been duck taped to the ceiling, some of them drooping precariously as though arranged in haste.

  Rick Montoya’s voice came from behind a glaring light trained on her. ‘I thought of many ways in which to tell you. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I never meant to hurt Jordan…never. I’d do anything to have her back.’

  Jo-Lynn's eyes began to adapt to the harsh light aimed at her. She could see Rick sitting in front of her, his hands behind his back.

  Rick lifted his head and stared into Jo-Lynn’s eyes. Rick’s face was a mass of swelling and bruises; dried blood was encrusted around his mouth in a stream of red that had ceased flowing hours before. His teeth and gum were exposed in a horrific grimace.

  ‘What are you saying?’ Jo-Lynn pleaded to her husband for an explanation.

  ‘I couldn’t tell you. I knew you would never understand.’ The silhouetted figure moved the light, turning it to expose his mutilated features. Rick began to sob. Gargled words belched out of his mouth in an incomprehensible babble.

  The water around Jo-Lynn’s legs suddenly felt very cold as hope drained from her body.

  Movement from behind her husband caught Jo-Lynn’s eye. There was someone else in the room. A second man. He stepped out of the shadows. ‘You see, Rick and I had a nice little cottage industry going. Not that it was just about the money. Oh no, the money was a fringe benefit but the real excitement, the real excitement…’ He repeated. ‘came from the endless stream of delicacies that came our way. Jordan she was so fine.’ He seemed lost for a moment in melancholy. ‘Then your husband got an attack of moral righteousness. A very bad thing. This world has no place for morals.’ He smiled, seemingly genuinely enjoying the moment.

  As he moved forward, Jo-Lynn noticed the hammer in his hand. She whispered, almost cried. ‘Who are you?’

  He waded through the water, stopping in front of Jo-Lynn and bent down until his face was parallel with hers. Jo-Lynn could still see the plastic spoon embedded in his throat, blood eased around it, dribbling down his neck.

  ‘How remiss of me, do you want to introduce me Rick, or shall I introduce myself.’ He placed the hammer by his feet, his hands moved up her thighs, resting at her hips. Jo-Lynn did not think it possible to feel colder, but his touch turned her to ice.

  ‘Better I do it myself, as Rick is having a little trouble speaking clearly. Prentice Fortune, at your pleasure.’

  Water rained down on the fire, from both the sky and the fire departments hoses, but neither seemed to be having an effect on the inferno blazing thirty feet in front of John Keller’s lens. Barbara Dace stood alongside some of the crew of the TV station. The shocked silence between them shattered by the occasional small explosion from
inside the burning building as gas canisters and pressurised equipment gave way to the fearsome heat.

  Norman Frusco laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, Barbara reached up and held on tightly to his hand, any attempt to hide their relationship dismissed, as she watched a lifetime of work and history ascend to the inferno.

  Georgina grabbed hold of Leroy during the commotion and dragged him to the rear of the helicopter. The rotors now subdued. He could see from the strung out look in her eyes that Georgina was close to breaking point.

  ‘What's up?’

  Georgina laughed a short snorting laugh. ‘What's up?’ The question deserved an answer that could take her days to work out let alone begin to tell. ‘I…’ She began but stopped. Her eyes bore deep in to Leroy's, searching for part of the answer before deciding whether she could continue. ‘I need a friend out here…’

  Leroy smiled.

  ‘Someone I can trust.’ She held his gaze until it passed the point of discomfort or embarrassment for both of them. ‘I…’ She paused again. ‘I know certain things, things that, that I find difficult to believe in. But none the less seem to be true. Things that if they are true are going to blow this tiny little island apart.’

  ‘More than this.’ Leroy gestured to the burning building and the chaos surrounding them. Georgina flinched as a tiny explosion; a gas canister surrendered to the heat.

  ‘This is all part of the game. The distraction to keep us from getting too close, from knowing the answers.’ Georgina looked at the burning building and the firemen trying to salvage the modern complex. ‘Did you know that as part of the design of newer buildings, fire doors and the layout of corridors and rooms are to prevent the rapid spread of flames?’

  Leroy looked puzzled, almost insulted. ‘Of course.’

  ‘There are three separate fires burning here.’ Georgina pointed to flames pouring out of a broken window on the third floor of the complex and then to another fire burning from the rear of the ground floor. ‘Plus, the fire burning in the video editing suite where this was supposed to have started in the basement.’

  Leroy shrugged. ‘So…It's not impossible. The fire could be spreading through open doors, the air-con system, windows…I don't know.’ He tried to explain.

  ‘The fires are isolated, too far apart. From a distance it looks as though the whole building is an inferno.’ Georgina began to walk away from the building. Leroy chased after her.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute!’ He ran to her and continued walking by her side. ‘So?’

  ‘So, I was brought here because I couldn't solve the mystery…or because there was a very high probability that I wouldn't? Jerk me around long enough, tantalise and tease me with enough, but not too much information, nothing incriminating and hope that by the time I have it all figured out it will be too late.’ She reached the helicopter.

  ‘I really don't know what you are talking about.’ Leroy said.

  ‘The time, Leroy, the time.’ Georgina stressed. She took hold of his left arm and pushed the sleeve of his coat back up his arm, exposing his watch. ‘Fake Rolex, class Leroy.’ Georgina studied the face and dials. One hour left. She climbed on board and tapped on the back of the pilot's helmet. Small skull and crossbones were painted on the helmet with an inscription, Fly the Friendly Skies in gothic calligraphy.

  The pilot turned. ‘What's up?’

  Georgina buckled herself in. ‘We are.’

  The pilot handed a sick bag over his shoulder, which Georgina accepted without comment.

  Leroy scrambled on board as the helicopter started to rise from the ground. Georgina leaned forward and helped pull him in. Leroy sat on the floor catching his breath. Georgina leaned forward and shouted to the pilot above the noise of the rotors.

  ‘GET ME AS CLOSE AS YOU CAN TO 14162 HARPENDERS GROVE.’

  Leroy recognised Narla Fleisher’s address. As they pulled away, Georgina saw her father and Captain Frusco running, waving. They were trying to beckon down the helicopter.

  ‘Keep going.’ Georgina shouted.

  The engine roared and the helicopter swooped away leaving Captain Frusco, Agent Wynan O’Neil, Barbara Dace and John Keller looking toward the sky, and the rain that continued to pour down from it onto their frustrated faces.

  ‘Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. You know the beautiful thing about this, is that all along I have been playing them at their game and I have won.’ Prentice moved. He became a silhouetted figure behind the harsh glare of white light once more.

  The cold, stinking pool of stagnant water now lay just beneath Jo-Lynn’s breasts. The room was beginning to fill from the flood chambers.

  She noticed the small red light on the camera indicating that he was recording the event. The man in front of her was a perfect stranger; the man bound to the chair immediately to her left was no longer her husband and even more so a stranger now. Jo-Lynn blinked; against the light, the blinding white halogen light placed directly ahead of her. Jo-Lynn began to doubt her sanity. The feeling of sheer blinding terror began to overwhelm her, and she began to shake violently.

  Fortune bent down and retrieved the hammer. ‘Less than an hour, but hey, fuck it, you know…’ He looked Jo-Lynn deep in the eyes. ‘I can’t be bothered to wait.’ He stepped back and lifted the hammer.

  ‘For god’s sake.’ Rick cried out but no one understood.

  Prentice turned and glanced the hammer across Rick Montoya’s skull. Montoya slumped forward in his seat, restrained by the duct tape securing his body to the seat.

  ‘Now that was fun.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Jo-Lynn screamed.

  Fortune unfolded a knife. The blade dirty and rusted and proceeded to slash through the duct tape holding Rick to the seat. Montoya’s body slumped forward and splashed into the water face down. Fortune dragged the chair sideways and sat next to Jo-Lynn.

  ‘Let me tell you about your husband.’

  ‘Please help him.’ Though she despised the thought of what he had done, part of Jo-Lynn was still struggling to accept what Prentice Fortune had told her as being the truth.

  ‘We’ll see…the more you interrupt, the longer this will take. The longer this will take, the longer Ricky boy drinks sewerage. By the time I am finished telling you all about your adorable husband though, I am sure that you will want me to kill him anyway. Hell, you’ll want to kill him yourself.’

  Forty-One

  The sight of the helicopter landing in the middle of the street induced a mixture of curiosity, excitement and panic. Georgina barely waited for it to touch down before her feet were running along the road to 14162 Harpenders Grove. Leroy followed, puffing slightly as he fought to catch up. Narla was already waiting at the door, an anxious look embedded on her face. Georgina made it to the door ahead of Leroy.

  ‘Where is she?’

  Narla nodded with her head, indicating upstairs. As Georgina passed, Narla turned

  ‘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 t
he 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.’