Death Angel (47 page)

Time to get help. For a moment she debated
between the woods and the water. If she went into the woods she might lose her
way entirely. In the water, she at least knew the direction to the main part of
the lake. Leaving her shoes on, she stepped into the lagoon.
 

The moon came out from behind the
clouds, shining magically across the water. She took it as an omen and smiled
as she dove in, swimming toward the wall of grass where she hoped to find the
channel. She had almost reached the entrance when the moon once more ducked
behind a cloud. She felt disoriented. She stopped swimming, treading water
until her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

In the silence, she heard the slap of
water against the aluminum side of a boat.
 

Terrified that it was Mike returning to
the cabin, she dove underwater, turning her body and kicking strongly toward
the weed beds at the back of the lagoon. Once again she slithered into the
concealing cover of the cattails. She was well hidden before the next patch of
moonlight highlighted the area.
 

Chest heaving and breath whistling
through her open mouth, she peeked through an opening in the grass, just as the
boat slid from the channel into the lagoon. In the night silence, she
recognized the hum of an electric motor and raised herself in the water to get
a better look at the single occupant. Just before the moon disappeared again,
she recognized Daisy wearing a green long-sleeved shirt and her trademark red
and black plaid cap.

“Daisy?”

“Here.”
 

She could barely hear the old woman’s
whisper over the pounding of her heart.

“I’m coming,” she said.
 

She swam in the direction she’d last
seen the boat. Without the moonlight, she overshot the mark. She spotted the
outline to her left, silhouetted against the lighter background of the lagoon.
She whistled as loud as she could. The boat turned toward her, and she waited
until the bow loomed above her and then reached a hand up to grab the
side.
 

Hands braced on the gunwale, she hoisted
herself out of the water, and Daisy grabbed her by the seat of her pants. Her
stomach cleared the side and she flopped over, landing in a heap at the bottom
of the boat.

On her back she stared at the huge
figure towering above her. Beneath the red and black plaid cap, Mike grinned
down at her.

“Welcome aboard,” he said.

He reached down to help her up but with
a yelp of fear, she rolled away from him, coming face-to-face with Daisy Rice.
Her mouth was open above the crescent of red. Her throat had been cut. Carl’s
hunting knife lay beside her head.

Kate was stunned by the senseless murder
of the old woman. Daisy had been Mike’s friend. Just like Richard and Jenny.
Blinded by anger, Kate picked up the knife and lunged at Mike, slashing at his
legs.

The move was so unexpected that he
staggered backward. The tip of the knife brushed the leg of his pants. He fell
against the side of the boat. The shift in weight tipped it over. Kate tried to
dive clear but at the last second before they hit the water, Mike grabbed her.
One arm was pressed across her nose and mouth. Frantically she twisted her body
back and forth until his grip loosened slightly.
 

Opening her mouth, she bit him. With a
bubbling cry, he released her. Bringing up her feet, she kicked him, swimming
with all her might toward the protection of the weeds. She slithered in among
the cattails then stopped, aware that Mike was somewhere in the water and any
noise would give him a clue to her whereabouts.

She shook at the narrow escape. The hat
and the change to a long-sleeved green shirt had given him the perfect
disguise.
 

The overturned boat floated just a few
yards away, its rounded back giving the impression of a whale at rest. She
could see Carl lying on the shore, covered by the sleeping bag.
 

The moon ducked behind a cloud and
darkness descended on the lagoon. She hadn’t seen Mike. She strained, but she
couldn’t hear him either. He must be somewhere in the weed beds. Among the tall
grass and cattails, it was so dark he could be only a foot away and she
wouldn’t be able to see him. For the moment, it was a stalemate.

She’d have to make the first move. The
water and the darkness were to her advantage. Mike knew he had her trapped
inside the lagoon. He could afford to wait until morning. Although she was the
better swimmer, his strength would be more important than speed.

If Mike still had the gun, would it work
now that it was wet? She had to assume it would. She stared at the hunting
knife clenched in her hand. In the morning light, Mike would be able to shoot
her without ever getting close enough for her to stab him.

She’d have to act soon.
 

It was too dangerous to go through the
marsh. Even with a head start, Mike knew the way better than she did, and if
she got out of the channel and into a patch of shallow water, he’d be able to
close the gap and catch her.
 

Carl hadn’t come through the marsh, he’d
come through the woods behind the cabin. If she could find Carl’s boat, she’d
be able to get safely away. She’d have to go quickly. Carl needed help. Her
energy wouldn’t last too long either.
 

The peek-a-boo moon flooded the lagoon
with pale light. The overturned aluminum hull of Daisy’s boat shone like
burnished silver. It had grounded on one of the shallow spots, rocking gently
to the motion of the water.
 

Just beyond, Kate could see Daisy. Her
body was floating toward shore.

Kate stared up at the sky. A cloud was
heading for the moon, ready to swallow it up. If she timed it right, she could
swim to the boat before the moonlight returned, then, when the next cloud
blocked the light, she could reach Daisy and use the body to camouflage her
approach to the shore. If everything went well, she’d reach land before Mike
spotted her. Once out of the water, she’d make a run for the woods and try to
find Carl’s boat. Deciding it was her only hope, she got ready.

Trying to minimize her movements, she
slithered through the marsh grass until she had a straight shot to the boat.
She watched as the cloud reached the outer rim of the moon and inched across
the surface. The light dimmed and was gone.

Kate was lying flat in the water and in
the darkness ducked her head and swam underwater to the boat. She came up on
the side closest to the cabin, keeping the boat between herself and the weed
beds. The moon emerged. With only her head above water, she waited as another
cloud approached. It was smaller than the first, but she didn’t think she could
wait for a larger one.

She watched Daisy’s body. She knew she
could reach it. Even if Mike saw her, she should be able to out swim him.
 

The breeze picked up, chill on her wet
face. A quick glance at the sky told her it was time. The instant the moon was
blocked, she took a deep breath and dove underwater, swimming toward Daisy. It
was farther than she’d estimated. Her lungs were bursting and she came up for
air.

She was two feet short.

The moon emerged, pinpointing her on the
surface of the lagoon. From behind her, came Mike’s triumphant cry. Now that
silence was no longer necessary, Kate kicked her feet hard, diving beneath
Daisy’s body. She swam with all her strength toward shore. She knew she’d swim
faster without the knife in her hand but she couldn’t bear to let go of her
only weapon.
 

She heard Mike thrashing his way through
the water and risked a peek back over her shoulder. He must have been in the
first row of weeds because he was only twenty feet away and gaining fast.

It was hopeless. She wasn’t going to
make it. For a second, she had a mad desire to give up, letting the water close
over her head forever.

Kick
your feet, Kate. You can make it.

Her father’s voice shouted in her head.
It was the spur she needed. She kicked hard, reaching ahead to pull herself
through the water. She was almost there. Hurry!

“Give it up, Kate,” Mike yelled.

Her downward stroke hit the mud bottom.
She dropped her feet and tried to run. The mud sucked at her shoes and in panic
she looked back. Just a yard away, Mike was getting to his feet.

“I’ve got you now!”

His voice boomed across the quiet
lagoon. He lunged forward and grabbed her legs. Kate fell forward. She twisted
her body and landed on her side, half of her body out of the water. Another
foot or two and she’d have been safe.

Mike held onto her legs, crawling up her
body until he was lying on top of her. His chest heaved with his exertion and
his panted breath was against her face.

“You’ll beg for death.”

He straddled her. One hand circled her
throat, pressing her against the mud bank. Arms out at her sides, Kate went
limp, knowing if she fought him, he’d strangle her. Reaching underneath her
shirt, he squeezed her breasts. She cried out at the bruising pressure of his
fingers and saw the gleam of his teeth in the light of the moon.

He grabbed the waistband of her shorts.

It was the feel of his hand on her
abdomen that brought her back to her senses. She reached her arms up to fight.
Forgotten until now, the blade of the knife shimmered in the light. She raised
it above his shoulders.

With a sweep of her arm, Kate brought
the knife down. At the last second, Mike must have sensed danger. He ducked to
the side until her body was free of his crushing weight, but his move came too
late. She stabbed him in the back, feeling the blade scrape across his ribs
then slide between two of them, sinking in up to the hilt.
 

Mike stiffened. Still on one knee and
one hand, he hovered above her. She rolled out from under him as he brought his
other hand down. Slowly he lowered his body to the mud bank.

“My God! You stabbed me!”
 

Kate scrabbled backward, breath rasping
through her lips from exertion and the shock of her actions. She stared in
fascination at the knife sticking out of Mike’s back. The ivory handle gleamed
above the green of the shirt.
 

She stared up at the sky. The clouds
were gone. The moon lit up the lagoon and the entire area in front of the
cabin.

“Kate, you have to get help.” Mike’s
voice was a harsh whisper.
 

Gritting her teeth, Kate stared down at
him. He was lying motionless, elbows at his sides, hands underneath his
shoulders to raise his chest slightly above the ground. His head was turned
toward her, his expression concentrated as he tried to assess his
injuries.
 

“Kate?”

She moved into his line of vision.

“Kate, listen to me. Don’t touch the
knife. I think my lungs are filling up. If you take the knife out, I’ll drown
in my own blood. You have to go for help.”

He stopped to catch his breath, then
took several panting gasps. His pleading eyes held hers. Hearing a low moan,
she cast a quick glance at Carl, lying so still just a short distance
away.
 

“Take the boat. Go for help.”

She struggled to her feet. His eyes
followed her as she walked up the bank to where Carl lay. She knelt down and
put her hand on his forehead.
 

His eyes opened and he stared up at her.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. Her chin trembled as she blinked
away tears then watched as his eyes closed again.

She was no nurse, but she was confident
that Carl was not in any immediate danger. She pulled the sleeping bag back
over his chest, tucking it carefully in place. Taking a deep breath, she stood
up.

Mike’s eyes showed relief when she
returned to his side. His breathing was a little more labored, but not
critical.
 

“Hurry, Kate. I need help.”

She stood above him, staring down at the
man she had known for eleven years. The monster who had destroyed everything
meaningful in her life.

“You need help? You killed Jenny. You
killed Richard. You killed Daisy, and you even tried to kill Carl and me. God,
how I despise you.”

Raising her hand, Kate touched the angel
charm, rubbing her fingers across the smooth gold figure.
 

“Where’s Jenny’s bracelet?”

Her question startled Mike. For one
brief second, defiance flashed in his eyes, then disappeared at the realization
that he was at her mercy.

“Inside pocket of duffel bag. Now will
you go? Hurry, Kate.”
 

“There’s no need to hurry. We’ve got all
night.”

She knelt down facing him. Her fingers
wrapped around the carved handle of the knife. With a quick jerk, she yanked it
out of the wound.

“Oh, God! What have you done?” he cried.

She held the knife directly in front of
his eyes. When she spoke, her words were formal.