Arraignment
I DIDN’T HEAR anything for several hours. I managed to get some sleep, but not much. I finally was advised that my arraignment was scheduled for three p.m. and I was allowed to shower and clean up a bit before it started.
As I walked into the courtroom, still shackled and cuffed, I was relieved to see Matt standing by the defendant’s table. He smiled and, after instructing the officer to remove the handcuffs, motioned me to a seat.
“Now, this is what’s going to happen,” he whispered.
“The A.D.A will read the charges and then the judge will ask you to rise and reply to them. You stand up straight, look him in the eye, and say, firmly and respectfully, ‘Not guilty, Your Honor.’ Think you can do that?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can.”
“Okay. The A.D.A is then going to demand that you be remanded to custody without bail. I’ll object to this and cite your good character, standing in the community, background, etc. I’ll also ask that the charges be dismissed, due to lack of evidence.”
“Do you think that’ll happen?”
“No, I don’t. But I’ll try anyway. I expect the judge will set bail and I’ll bet it’s going to be high. Maybe even a million.”
“Oh, no!”
“Don’t worry. You won’t have to put up that much. Ten percent is customary for a bail bondsman. Can you handle a hundred thousand?”
I thought for a minute, then nodded. “I have a trust fund I’ve never touched. I believe it’s worth a couple of million. I can have them wire the money.”
“Good. Okay. Just sit here politely. Don’t smile and don’t frown. I want you to be neutral. Don’t antagonize anyone, especially the judge. And, don’t speak unless you’re asked a question and, even then, wait until I give you the nod. Okay?”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
It all went pretty much like Matt said. I stood respectfully and said, “Not guilty, Your Honor” in a firm, steady voice. The judge denied Matt’s motion to dismiss and set bail, just like Matt guessed, at one million dollars.
When it was all over, I was allowed to make a phone call to California to the trustee who took care of my funds. I instructed him to wire one hundred thousand dollars to Reliable Bail Bonds as soon as possible. It would take a couple of hours for the monies to be transferred and cleared. If all that took place without a hitch, I wouldn’t have to spend another night in jail.
Luckily, the transfer went smoothly and, by nine p.m., I walked outside into the salty air, for now a free woman.
A Simple Plan
I TOOK A water taxi back over to Storm and arrived at the carriage house, which had been searched and cleared as a crime scene, around ten o’clock. Before leaving the mainland, I made an appointment to meet with Matt the next day at one p.m. at his office.
On the ride back, I checked my cell. There was a response to the text I’d sent the night of my arrest and, reading it, I breathed a sigh of relief.
I immediately texted back: I’ll call as soon as I get home. Don’t go anywhere. Kate.
Once safely inside the carriage house, I ignored the rapidly blinking red light on the phone’s answering machine and dialed a number I hadn’t used in years.
The phone was answered on the first ring.
“Katy, is that you?”
“Yes, Lyle. It’s me.”
Lyle Waters was an old friend from my undergrad days. Once an Olympic contender in diving, he had had too much to drink one night and wrapped his car around a telephone pole. As a result, he was now confined to a wheelchair. His injury made him turn away from athletics and, instead, he concentrated on his academic studies. He was majoring in computer science and was wicked good at it. After graduation, he took a lucrative job at a start-up in Silicon Valley and currently held one of three top managerial positions in the company. His salary was six figures and, with stock options, he was one of the wealthiest executives in the state.
In addition, he was well-respected and enjoyed his work. However, having an adventuresome spirit, his real love was what he considered his sideline – hacking. He was one of the best underground hackers in the business and boasted that there wasn’t a system built that he couldn’t get into.
“What do you need, honey?” he asked. “Your text sounded positively desperate.”
“I am desperate,” I responded. “I need to get files from a personal computer … not mine … and I need to do it tonight.”
Lyle was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. But first, tell me what’s going on.”
I didn’t hesitate. Not with Lyle. I’d sat with him for hours, days even, after his accident and he’d told me everything, all his secrets … and I’d told him mine. We stripped our psyches bare-naked in front of each other and, now, I told him everything.
“Whoa,” he said when I’d finished. “You’ve got yourself in a real pickle, girl.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Okay. Now, you’re convinced that what you need to exonerate yourself is on this dude’s computer, right?”
“Yeah. It’s got to be there. Raoul is a meticulous man. He’d keep good records.”
“Okay. You’ve got access?”
“Yes. I can get to the computer, but it’s got to be tonight. By tomorrow, he might wipe it clean.”
“Yeah, I got ya. Text me everything you know about him … name of his wife, dog … anything that might lead me to his password. Most everyone uses something familiar, something they won’t forget. Just give me the basics and I’ll take it from there.”
“Okay, consider it done.”
“And, call me when you get to the box. I’ll need the model and serial number.”
He didn’t wait for a response but just went on to describe how to find this information on both a Mac and PC. I took quick notes as he explained.
“Okay. We cool?” I asked.
“Yeah, we cool. I won’t go anywhere. I’m here for you. Main thing is you get in and get out quick.”
“Thanks, Lyle. I’ll text the info on Raoul as soon as we hang up.”
“Good. Take care, Katy. Be careful.”
“Yeah. I will.”
I texted Lyle all I could think of about Raoul and Hettie, then I quickly changed into clean jeans and a sweatshirt. I was pretty sure both my aunt and uncle would be asleep at this late hour, but Vlad was another story. He seemed to have a habit of roaming the tunnels and I worried that I might, once again, cross his path.
“I need a weapon,” I said to my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Deer hunting was popular on the island and I remembered there was a gun case in the storage room behind the carriage house. I’d taken a class in self-defense back when I was in college and, as part of that class, learned how to handle and shoot a revolver. It had been a long time since I’d done so, but I was sure I still remembered the basics.
I knew the gun case was kept locked so I took a few minutes rifling through the kitchen drawers until I found the key.
Hurrying, I went to the storage unit and unlocked the case. Four rifles of various gauges hung from the back wall, but I rejected them. I didn’t want to lug a rifle with me through the tunnels. The case also had one long drawer and I opened it. Inside, was a lone pistol and a box of cartridges. I picked it up, testing its weight in my hand, and examined it.
It would do.
I loaded it and then, making sure the safety was on, tucked it into the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back and concealed it with my sweatshirt. It felt awkward, but would perhaps give me the leverage I’d need should I bump into Vlad.
Returning to the house, I put on my miner’s cap, grabbed a flashlight, and, with one last glance at the red light on the answering machine, walked into the bedroom closet and descended into the tunnels.
Back To The Tunnels
I MADE GOOD time. The tunnel system was more familiar now and I traversed the passageways with ease. I was almost to the tunnel leading to Stormview w
hen a sudden noise stopped me in my tracks. Was someone sneaking up behind me?
Slowly, I pivoted around, my hand reaching for the gun secreted at the small of my back.
The tunnel behind me was empty.
Keeping my hand on the pistol grip, I searched the passageway with my headlight. No one was there.
Taking a deep breath and chiding myself silently for my foolishness, I removed my hand from the gun and, once again, continued on. When I reached the juncture where the tunnels branched, one going to the room with the kennels and the other to Stormview, I began to relax. It was almost over.
Stepping into the tunnel that led to Raoul’s office, I was surprised to find myself suddenly hurtling through the air … landing on my butt, my head cracking painfully against one of the stone walls.
“We meet again, Dr. Pomeroy,” said a heavily accented voice.
Black dots swam before my eyes, but nothing could make me mistake that voice. It was Vlad.
The impact of my fall had, somehow, knocked out my headlamp and I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to adjust my vision to the now dim light.
A hand reached out of the darkness, roughly pulling off my hat, allowing my hair to cascade down around my shoulders.
“That’s better,” Vlad said, chuckling. “Now, take off that sweatshirt.”
I stiffened. What was he up to now? I could just make out his outline in the dark and I tried to scoot backward to put more distance between us, but was hampered by the wall.
“I’m waiting,” he said impatiently.
He turned on a high-powered flashlight and positioned it so that I was lit up like a Christmas tree. I could see he had his cell in his hand and was texting or emailing something.
“Come on, princess,” he demanded. “Take off that top. The customers will want to see what they’ll get for their hard-earned money.”
As he spoke, he took a step closer, towering over me. I thought about going for the gun, but knew I would be better off biding my time and waiting for a chance to catch him off-guard. Right now, all of his faculties were trained on me.
He leaned over and grabbed my chin in his hand, pinching painfully. “Take it off now or I’ll do it for you.”
Reluctantly, and careful not to dislodge the gun, I pulled the shirt over my head. I was now clad only in my bra and jeans.
Vlad reached out and ruffled my hair, spreading it across my shoulders.
“Sit up and stick that skinny chest out. And, smile. Do it now, or you’ll regret it.”
Taking a deep breath, I did as he instructed, plastering a false smile on my face.
Grinning now, Vlad used his phone to take several photos of me and, after he checked them, picked up my sweatshirt and tossed it in my lap.
“You can put it back on now. We don’t want you to catch your death, do we?”
Quickly, I shrugged on the sweatshirt, making sure the gun was still hidden in the back.
“Now get to your feet,” he said. “It’s time to get out of here.”
I struggled to my feet, still slightly dizzy from the blow to my head.
“Where are you taking me? Back to the kennels?”
He laughed. “No, no more cages for you, sweetheart. At least, not in this place. We’re getting out of here. My boat is waiting. Your Uncle Raoul has overstepped – killing your father was a mistake. It’s time to move on. And you, my sweet, are going to provide me with the currency to do so. Do you have any idea how much the Chinese or Indonesians will pay for a pretty Western girl like you? And, a doctor to boot! I bet I’ll get six figures easy.”
He grabbed my arm and pushed me ahead of him. After a few steps, he pulled me to a stop. “Look,” he said brandishing the phone in front of my face. “Already, Mama Chunhua from the Howlin brothel has bid 612153 Chinese Yuan! That’s close to ninety thousand. And, you’ve only been posted for minutes!”
He laughed as he started to tuck the phone back into his pocket, but stopped when it chimed again.
“Probably another bid,” he grinned, turning his attention away from me and back to the phone.
This was my chance. Greed had distracted him.
Keeping my eyes trained on him, I reached behind and pulled the gun from my waistband.
“Stand back!” I shouted as I flicked the safety off and pointed the weapon at his chest.
Vlad looked surprised, then, unexpectedly, he laughed. “So, the little princess still has some tricks up her sleeve … or should I say, in her pants.”
He was leaning toward me, so I took a half-step away from him.
“You get back,” I ordered. “I know how to use this and, believe me, if you give me any provocation, I will.”
He nodded and stepped away from me, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You have me dead to rights, sweetheart. Now, what are you going to do with me?”
“Walk,” I ordered, indicating the tunnel that led to the room where the cages were. “It’s time you got a little bit of your own medicine.”
Again, he laughed, then barked like a dog. “Your wish is my command, Dr. Pomeroy.”
Slowly, we retraced our steps to the tunnel that led to the cavernous room.
When we got to the row of cages, using the revolver, I motioned for him to open the one I had been imprisoned in.
“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” I said. “Now, get inside.”
Still grinning, he bent down in an attempt to maneuver his body, which was much larger than mine, into the small opening.
“I don’t think I’ll fit!” he exclaimed, turning his head toward me.
Again, I pointed to the cage with the gun. “Get in!”
He shrugged, then turned back toward the kennel.
I took a deep breath as he started to enter the cage. It was almost over.
Without warning, he pivoted and rushed toward me, head low. For a big, middle-aged man, he moved with an agility and grace that caught me off-guard. His head butted into my mid-section, causing me to lose balance and, doubled over, I went sprawling across the floor. At the same time, his arm lashed out with a karate chop to my gun hand just as I was squeezing the trigger. My shot went wild and the gun flew from my hand.
Panicking, I tried to get to my feet, my eyes searching in vain for the gun, which now could be anywhere.
Vlad, who recovered more quickly than I, pushed me back down to the floor.
He towered over me, standing with hands on hips, an angry scowl on his face.
“I think, before we leave, I’m going to have to teach you a lesson, Dr. Pomeroy. Maybe I will have to break you in for your new role in life.”
As he spoke, he reached for his belt and began unbuckling it. I tried to scoot away from him, eyes searching for the gun, but to no avail.
He pulled the belt from his pants and wrapped one end tightly around his hand, making a fist. He slapped the loose end, which held the buckle against the cavern wall.
“Turn over,” he ordered.
When I didn’t comply, he kicked me hard in the thigh.
I screamed.
“Turn over,” he repeated.
Not knowing what else to do and fearing the boot again, I rolled over on my stomach.
Laughing, he now stood straddling me as, once again, he snapped the belt buckle against the wall above my head.
“Now for your punishment,” he said, raising his arm.
I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip, anticipating the pain he would inflict as he lashed the belt buckle across my buttocks, and I thanked the Lord for the heavy jeans I wore.
The belt came down and, despite the denim, bit into the tender skin underneath.
Again, I screamed.
Vlad laughed and raised the belt again. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact to come.
But instead of the horrible caress of the belt, I heard a loud “OOOMPH” and then a clanging sound as the belt buckle hit the stone floor.
I rolled over, surprised to see Vlad struggling
with another person.
Jeremy!
I couldn’t believe my eyes. How had he found me?
Scooting away, I watched the two men fight. Vlad, though much older, moved like a snake, worming his way out of Jeremy’s grasp and taking the offensive.
The two men circled around, each taking the other’s measure. The Russian was obviously experienced in martial arts but, to my surprise, so was Jeremy. Did that have anything to do with those two tours he did in Afghanistan? I didn’t know, but I worried that, even with his youth and experience, in the end, Vlad would come out on top.
But there was one thing that could give us the upper hand … the gun.
Struggling to my feet, I tried in vain to find it, but in the darkness of the tunnel, it was next to impossible. It could be anywhere.
I glanced back at the two men. Vlad was now on the offensive, pounding Jeremy with his fists, and I feared it would soon be over for him. Somehow, I had to intervene.
I took a step toward them, intent on joining the melee, but was halted in my tracks by the sudden and overpowering nectar of roses.
The perfumed air surrounded me and, as I inhaled the heady bouquet, my flashlight, which I had dropped when Vlad ambushed me, began to flicker and come to life. Transfixed, my eyes followed the path of its light and I gasped as it illuminated the revolver, lying in a niche at the base of the tunnel wall.
Quickly, I dashed for it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Vlad caught my movement and, landing a heavy blow to Jeremy’s midsection, tried to beat me to the weapon.
But, this time, I was faster.
Grabbing the pistol, I braced my feet as I’d been taught and aimed it at the Russian’s head.
“Stop right now or I’ll blow your ugly face off!”
Vlad halted mid-step.
Behind him, Jeremy staggered to his feet, catching his breath. “I’ve got him, Katy!” he yelled, putting Vlad in a headlock and forcing him to his knees. “What do you want to do with him?”
Storm Island: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 1) Page 25