Chapter 28
Loni found the blanket without difficulty and looked back at the road. She could just see the rock where she’d come off. Another five minutes and she was directly above the house. She could see no signs of life. She took off her blouse and skirt. God, it was cold! Could she actually pretend she was doing this to get a tan? She unfolded the blanket and lay down on it. The cool breeze wasn’t so noticeable there. Cilla for all her toughness was pretty naive. About a lot of things. A man like Harv coming on a girl in bra and panties on a remote hill isn’t going to be called off by anyone. Mr. Carver knew. She was going to be raped, for that’s what it will be. She wondered what would prolong it more, if she fought him or flirted with him. Sammy Gardner was dead. Cilla and Mr. Carver hadn’t said so, but she knew it. The thought added more tremors to her already shaking body. What had she gotten herself into? For the first time in her life she wished she’d learned to fight. Her only weapon was the face and figure that came compliments of her genes.
Several minutes went by. Harv should be coming. He had to be out of that house when Cilla and Mr. Carver got to it. She stood up. Cilla said Harv was probably watching. She reached behind her back and undid her bra. Very slowly she slipped one arm out of it, then the other, holding it to her breasts. Then she threw it to one side and raised her arms over her head, stretching. That ought to do it, she thought, lying back down on the blanket.
Another minute passed. Then a door closed. He was coming. She tried to control her shaking body and pretend she was enjoying the sunshine. The sounds of heavy boots climbing up rocky soil. She closed her eyes, trying to keep from stiffening. And then he was there. She could feel him. He was standing looking at her. She held her breath. Maybe he’d just look for a while, long enough for...A shadow across her eyes. She kept them tightly closed, pretending sleep.
“Quite a performance.”
Loni’s eyes flew open. It was Dora. “What?”
“Don’t try to fool me, hot pants. You didn’t come up here for a tan. That strip you did in full view of the house. I agreed to protect you from the people that killed your father, not let you make out with my husband.”
“I wasn’t...your husband? You and the doctor are married?” Loni suddenly felt as naked as she was and put her arms across her breasts. Damn. Harv was the one she needed to get out of the house. Cilla and Mr. Carver were probably already there.
“You and the doctor are married?’” Dora mimicked. “As innocent as a lamb, aren’t you?”
“Honestly, I didn’t know. Believe me I have no interest in attracting Frank.”
“But you do have an interest in Harv?”
“He has got...muscles.” Could she get Dora to send Harv up?
“And you thought you’d lure him up here to play Jack and Jill.”
“Is that so bad? I’ve been shut up in that house. Why do you care?”
The venomous look that came into Dora’s eyes told Loni she’d made a mistake.
“Because Harv is my husband, as if you didn’t know.”
“Oh Dora, I swear I didn’t! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not completely your fault. The man’s after anything in panties. It’s just the way he is, too much testerone or something. I can handle it most of the time, keep him drained. But you. You’re something else, that face and that body. I can’t compete on even terms, so I’m going to have to level the field.”
“What...what does that mean?”
“It takes two to tango, baby, even for Harv. I’m just going to make sure you’re not one of the dancers.”
“I won’t be! I promise! Really, Harv doesn’t attract me at all!”
“He won’t, that’s for sure.”
In panic, Loni started to get up. Dora took her right hand from behind her back. It held a revolver, with a tube that could only be a silencer on its front. “I think some lead in one of those long legs will turn you off a bit.”
“Dora, I didn’t know Harv was yours! What are you doing?”
“Stand up so I don’t get a ricochet.”
“Dora, you’re supposed to protect me!”
“If you keep jiggling around I may hit a knee, and you’ll never walk let alone dance.”
“Dora, please! This is all a mistake! I don’t want Harv! I...”
The gun fired. Loni felt something sharp hit her leg and screamed.
Cilla’s first emotion was shock. Then shame for allowing Loni to substitute for herself. She hunted for a rock, found one the right size and drew back her hand to throw it at one of the front windows. Wally had come up behind her and grabbed her arm.
“Let go!”
“What will that accomplish?”
“The sound of breaking glass will stop whatever in hell he’s doing.”
“And then her sacrifice will have been in vain. And Hudson will die.” Another scream from the hill behind the house.
Carver could almost feel a physical blow as Cilla’s cold gray eyes swung to his. “I hate you Wallace Carver!”
“So do I sometimes. More importantly, where’s the ambulance?”
Cilla turned quickly. “It was right here. Oh, no!” She ran to the front door. Carver flattened against the front of the building, as she went in. She ran quietly down the entrance hall. In a room off to the right a large man was looking out a window toward the hill. Harv! Then what...? He heard her and turned.
“Loni! But you’re...” He half turned back to the window.
“Where’s the ambulance, Harv?”
He blinked, still unable to adjust.
“The ambulance. I went out for a walk and it’s not there any longer.”
A sly look came into little piggish eyes. “Your friend came around. Frank took him for a drive.”
“Where did they go?”
“Into town I think.”
“No. I came in that way and didn’t see them.”
“How could you come...?” A puzzled look up the hill.
“Harv, you tell me where they’ve gone or...”
“Or what?” He leered. “You going to break my arm?”
“If necessary. Where? Tell me!”
Harv’s eyes glittered. “Little bitch!” He reached out, putting his beefy hand on her chest. She clamped her hands on top of his and bent the fingers back. He dropped suddenly to his knees. She got hold of his thumb.
“Ow! That hurts!”
“It’ll hurt more. Where did Frank take Hudson?”
Perspiration appeared on his forehead. “I don’t know! They didn’t tell me.”
“They?”
“Dora and Frank. Shit! Let go, will you! It’s FBI stuff, you know that! Dora’s the agent, not me!”
“She’s not FBI. You’re all in some kind of a plot; you’ve tried to kill us before.” She squeezed harder. “Is that where Frank’s gone? To kill Hudson?”
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Christ, stop!”
“Tell me and I’ll stop.”
“Yes! Yes! He’s taking him out in the desert! Please...agh!” With a sharp pull, Cilla dislocated his thumb. He rolled on the floor grabbing at it, screaming with pain.
“They must have gone south,” Carver had come into the room. “Is he under control? I’ll get the car.”
“Loni. We can’t leave her.”
“Every minute lessens Hudson’s chances.”
“Damn you, Wally! Don’t you think I know that?”
She moved to a side table and grabbed a heavy bronze candlestick. Harv was moaning, holding his hand, oblivious to everything. She started out of the room. Dora appeared in the doorway holding the pistol.
“What’s going...Loni?...How...Harv!” She ran to the big man. “What’s happened? No, hold it right there!” This to Cilla who started to move toward her.
“My thumb! She’s broken my thumb!”
“Poor baby!” She knelt, peering at his hand. “We’ll put some ice on it.” She waved the pistol. “We’re going to the kitchen.”
She got Harv, still moaning, to his feet, and then stopped still, staring hard at Cilla. “You can’t be Loni. I left you on top of the hill.”
“Did you leave me dead?”
Dora cocked her head, bewildered. “Of course not. I fired at your feet, just to scare you off...What the hell am I saying? You’re not...” She peered closer. “My God, those are your clothes! How did you get down before me?” She swung to look at Carver. “You! You’re the sick old fart that came to the door. What the Christ is going on?”
“You’re in over your head, Dora,” said Cilla.
“Eh?” She turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“She means your mind is going,” said Carver.
“None of this is real,” said Cilla.
“Ooooh! Let’s get the ice,” moaned Harv.
“Shut up, Harv. We’ll find out how real it is!” She pointed the pistol at Cilla.
“I’m over here.” Loni leaned against the doorframe.
“What?...”Dora swung toward the door. Cilla kicked the pistol out of her hand. It skidded across the floor. Carver picked it up.
Cilla faced her. “Dora, where has Frank taken Hudson?”
The woman was still trying to take in the situation. “Frank? How should I know? Let me get some ice for Harv.”
“We haven’t time for this,” growled Carver moving toward her with the pistol. “Listen carefully, Dora. Minutes count, so I’m not going to waste even one. I’m going to put the first shot through your dress, the second through your hair, the third in you.” The pistol exploded. Dora cringed at the sound.
“No!”
“Aagh!” Dora grabbed at her head. “Stop! Stop! He took him to the desert! I don’t know where, I swear I don’t!” The words tumbled over each other. “He said he was going out where it’s hard and flat and there are no roads.” She crouched in fright, elbows close to her body, hands hiding her head. “Don’t shoot! Please! I’ve never been out there!”
“When did he say he’d be back? Quick!” Carver pointed the weapon at her face, where she could look down the barrel.
“For dinner? Yes! I’m sure he...” Her voice faded as she saw the fierce look in the old man’s eyes.
Cilla picked up the telephone. “We’ll never find them on our own.” She dialed.
“Krestinski?” asked Carver.
“Yes.” As the phone rang at the other end, Cilla said, “Loni, are you all right? We...” Into the phone. “Mr. Krestinski please. Cilla Rogers calling from Arizona.” Back to Loni. “Did she hurt you?”
“The bullet drove a stone into my leg. It’s okay.” Cilla could see a thin stream of blood running down Loni’s leg. “She scared the shit out of me though; I thought for sure it was the bullet. This blubbering pile of meat is her husband.” Harv was wrapped inside his pain, continuing to make noises.
“John?...Oh, well when...? I see...No, I haven’t...Yes.” She hung up and turned to Carver. “I’ll get the car. We go it alone.”
“Krestinski?”
“Isn’t in or expected, nor is anyone else from the way this man was talking. Something’s happened. He asked if I’d seen the news today.” She handed the pistol to Carver. “You call police, I’ll get the car.” She hugged the girl who could be her twin. “We have to go after Frank. You’ll be okay, we’ll have the police out here in no time.” She held Loni so she could see her face, gave a quick smile of encouragement and ran out.
Carver, keeping an eye on Dora and Harv, dialed 911 and spoke. “We need an ambulance and some police...I don’t know the address here, but if I leave the telephone off the hook can you trace the call?...There’s no time for questions, can you do it?...Good.” He put the receiver on the table and turned to the “agents”. “All right you two, into that storage room I saw off the kitchen.”
He told Loni to wait for him in the den, then herded Dora and Harv into the windowless room. After a little extra safeguard, locked the door behind them. He called, “Loni will be right outside the door with the pistol and instructions to shoot if either of you attempt to get out.”
Back in the room with Loni, “They won’t bother you, and someone should be here soon. Are you alright?”
“Sure,” said Loni. Carver was about to say more, when a honk from outside told him Cilla had the car. He touched his chin, telling Loni to keep hers up and went out. Cilla gunned the engine as he climbed into the front seat. He grabbed the armrest to hold on, then opened the map. “This only looks like a driveway. It merges with another road in a few miles.”
“What did you do with them?”
“Locked them in a storage room. No windows.”
“Harv is strong. He could break down the door.”
“Not any more.”
She looked at him. “You didn’t...?”
“No. Just a tap on the head. I told Dora I was leaving the gun with Loni with instructions to shoot if the door opened.”
“But you didn’t. Leave the gun.”
“No. We might need it.”
They drove in silence for a while, on a road that at times almost disappeared. But the way was clear enough.
“Would you have shot her?” asked Cilla.
“She’d be no use to us dead.”
“Only a ploy, in other words.”
Carver stared straight ahead. “I hope your ploy doesn’t prove fatal.”
She glanced at him. “Mine?”
“Your `leaving’ Hudson.”
“I was the dangerous one. I had to keep him away from me, how else was I going to do it?”
“You probably weren’t. But look what’s happened from what you did.”
“Damn you, Wally! Don’t you put this on me!”
“You must know Hudson well enough by now to predict his actions. Did you expect he’d sit in his room counting the hairs on his chest?”
Cilla eyed him coldly. “He doesn’t have hair on his chest; it’s on his head. Wallace Carver, have you stopped to think that none of this would have happened if you hadn’t agreed to take in your old friend Sturgis?”
With disgust, “Of course I have.” Though where the disgust was aimed was not clear.
The road suddenly ended at an even more rudimentary road running perpendicular to it.
“Go right,” said Carver.
The rocky road they were bumping along made conversation difficult, to the relief of both. Carver, a very private person, found admitting an error to anyone difficult. To this young woman... What was it about her that made it particularly distasteful? Because it showed weakness. For Wally, weakness was the cardinal sin. Wolves make dinner of weakness, cutting the faltering animal from the pack. When his case in court had least merit was when Carver was his most confident. And it usually worked. Opposing attorneys found themselves settling on terms less favorable than they’d have demanded of another opponent. A thought inserted itself. Unwelcome, he realized he’d been suppressing it. In the airport garage at Logan she’d suggested the rental car office. On North Garrison Street it had been her plan not his that got them into the house and Loni out. Damn it, he was along to supply the brains, not this half-breed fresh from two years in that ashram, where dropouts from life congregate to put their one horsepower thinking apparati in mothballs.
Cilla was also suffering her own little hell. She hadn’t thought it a good plan. It was the only plan she could come up with. The man with the whispering voice seemed to know what was going on in her daily life. She had to convince him that she and Hudson had split, that her husband was no longer of value to the man with the graveside voice. Anyone can kill anyone if they want to enough, and these people don’t care how many others get hurt in the process. The use of the bazooka proved that. What else was she to do? She’d had to get Hudson out of the line of fire, and he wouldn’t have gone unless pushed. But the old buzzard was right. She should have thought that one extra step. She ought to have known he wouldn’t go easily. And now...Somewhere ahead a man was driving the only person she really cared about to his death.
The hills began to flatten, miles of desert appearing between solitary peaks. And Cilla kept driving.