Ragged Man (38 page)

When his parched throat no longer screamed, he looked at the clock and frowned, 11:15. He had forty-five minutes left.

He wanted out of the tub. He wanted clothes. He wanted his mother. And he knew that help was probably not coming. He was on his own.

His hands were free, so things that were out of reach, when they were tied up, might now be within grasp. With a renewed eye, he studied the bathroom. The bathroom sink, next to the tub was off limits. Too high. But the drawers below were not. He stretched against the noose, reached for a drawer. He was able to ease a it open and using his hand like an eel, he snaked it into the drawer and felt around.

A few small bottles, emery boards, a larger bottle, then pay dirt, a pair of nail clippers. He could snip away at the rope and get free. He latched onto the clippers and pulled his hand out, banging it on the top of the drawer, dropping the clippers on the wet floor, where they bounced and slid out of reach.

“
It’s not fair,” he said, but he wouldn’t give up.

He sat in the tub with the noose pulling at his neck and thought, and he realized there was something nagging at him, like in school when the teacher calls on you and you know you know the answer, but can’t remember it. It’s on the tip of your tongue, but your tongue is frozen.

There was a way, he was sure. He just had to reason it out.

* * *

Without talking, they dragged Storm’s body to the rail, Judianne at the shoulders, Rick at the feet. They lifted the lifeless form and hoisted him over the side. Then Judianne made a quick trip to the galley and returned with a painter’s tarp that covered the grill when it wasn’t in use and draped it over Wolfe Stewart’s body.

“
Can you drive this thing?” she asked.

“
How hard can it be?” he answered.

She helped him up to the bridge.

“
Where are we and where is back?” She looked around, seeing only fog, mist and blue ocean.

“
We’re on a heading of two-seventy,” he said, looking at the compass, “so in theory, if we swing the boat around to a heading of ninety degrees, we’ll wind up back where we started.”

“
You’re sure?”

“
No. In an airplane you’d have to take wind direction into account, so I would assume in a boat you would have the same problem with the current.”

“
So what do we do?”

“
Turn to a course of ninety degrees and pray.” He swung the wheel around, shoving the throttle full forward.

“
I’m going down to get some hot water. I’ll be right back.” She left the bridge, returning a few minutes later with a pan from the galley, a wet rag and the ship’s first aid kit. Then she washed and bandaged his wounds. When she was finished she handed him Wolfe Stewart’s flannel shirt and he put it on.

“
Does the shoulder hurt much?” she asked.

“
I’m trying not to think about it.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
Don’t be, it’s not your fault.

“
It’s 11:30, we only have a half hour left.”

“
We’ll make it?” he said.

“
What if we don’t?”

“
We will.”

“
How do you stop it?”

“
What?”

“
The boat. When we get there, how do we stop it?”

“
I suppose we slow down and throw it into reverse just before we dock, then shove it into neutral.”

“
Oh,” then she said. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“
I don’t know.”

They spent the next five minutes silently on the bridge, with their eyes reaching out ahead, then Judianne said, “I see it,” and Rick saw it too, land dead ahead.

“
We’re about half a mile south of the pier,” she said.

He continued on a straight course.

“
You have to make a left if you want the pier.”

“
I don’t want the pier.”

“
Why not.”

“
There’s no time. If I have to slow down and try and park this damn thing, we’ll never make it.”

“
So what are you going to do?”

“
Run it onto the beach.” He pulled the throttle back to a quarter. “When we get as close as we dare, I’ll make a hard right and you can dive off and swim to shore. Then flag a car and save J.P.”

“
What about you?”

“
I’ll beach the boat and follow you up.”

“
I don’t want to leave you.”

“
I’ll slow you down, right now the important thing is to save J.P.”

“
You’re right.”

“
You better get on deck.”

“
I love you,” she said, leaving the bridge.

“
I love you, too.”

* * *

She climbed down the ladder, stood on the starboard side, waiting and watching as the beach closed out of the fog, and when it looked like the beach was impossibly close, Rick slid the boat into a left turn. She took her shoes off and dove into the surf, swimming for shore with long easy strokes. As Ann, she had been a mediocre swimmer, but as Judy, she was world class and in excellent shape.

She caught a six foot wave as she closed on the beach and body surfed into three feet of water, where she stood and sloshed her way to the sand. Then, without looking back, she broke into a dead run for the road, waving and screaming at a black Toyota that sped up as she approached, its driver ignoring her.

In frustration she turned and watched as Rick took the Seawolf into a wide circle under full power. When he had completed the first half of the circumference he straightened it out and headed for the beach.

The Seawolf ended its last voyage with a scraping crash as she scratched along the bottom, but Judianne couldn’t wait and see what happened to Rick, because a green Porsche was coming down the road.

This one wasn’t going to ignore her. She staggered like she was hurt and fell on the road. The Porsche stopped and a leggy, young blond in a low cut sailor shirt and skimpy white shorts, scrambled out of the car.

When she heard the door open, Judianne jumped up, saying, “Sorry, but I need the car.”

“
What,” the blonde said, startled.

“
Life and death—Sorry.” Judianne pushed the girl aside, jumped behind the wheel and sped away.

* * *

Rick braced himself, but when the boat hit ground, he was thrown against the wheel and knocked onto his back. Painfully, he got up and when he was sure the boat was beached, he climbed down from the bridge. He stumbled along the deck and thought he saw someone approaching as he went over the side and into the water. He hoped he could touch, because he was too worn out to fight the waves.

He slid into the sea, holding his breath and his heart cried in dismay when his feet didn’t hit bottom. He opened his eyes and saw only black. He held his breath and pushed toward the surface. Flapping his arms, he grabbed a great gulp of air, flopped onto his back, trying to do the back stroke, but only one arm wanted to obey and he went under again.

He came up, gasping for air, fighting a wave.

“
Don’t panic, I’ve got you.” It was the voice of an angel.

He tried hard not to panic.

“
Relax, let me do the work and everything will be all right.” Not an angel, a living, breathing human being. A woman.

He lay back and obeyed as she circled his chest with a strong arm, then kicked with her long legs, pulling him safely and surely toward shore.

Rick leaned on her as she helped him out of the water and, once they were safely on the sand, he told her, through panting breath, that he needed to get up the hill, could she flag down a car, “It’s a matter of life and death.”

“
I’ve heard that before,” she said as she went up to the road to stop a passing car.

* * *

Judianne slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. She fumbled with her keys on the front porch, opened the door and dashed up the stairs. Out of breath, she flung the bathroom door open and sank to her knees in anger and frustration. The bathroom was empty.

She looked at her watch. 11:59. Dammit, she’d made it on time. He should be here. The man said he would be here. She stared at her watch and watched as the digital seconds ticked away to 12:00 and she cried.

At 12:05 she heard a car drive up and she went outside and met Rick and the woman whose car she’d hijacked. She saw a green van drive away, its driver apparently wanting nothing more to do with a situation he was beyond understanding.

“
Your keys are in the car,” she said to the woman.

“
You said it was a matter of life and death,” the young woman said, “did it end up life?”

“
No.”

“
I’m sorry.” She slid behind the wheel of the Porsche and slowly drove down the hill.

“
Is he dead?” Rick asked.

“
He wasn’t there. He was never there.”

“
Maybe he meant my bathroom.”

Judianne ran across the clearing to the other house with Rick on her heels. They flew through the kitchen, dining and living rooms and up the steps to the second floor. She pushed the door open and saw J.P., tied by the neck to the water faucet, naked, with his hands covering his private parts and a sheepish grin on his face.

“
It was easy,” he said, “once I figured it out. I pulled the plug.”

“
I’ll get a knife, honey.” Judianne dashed from the bathroom to the kitchen below.

She was back in an instant, handing Rick the knife and Rick sliced through the noose that bound J.P. to the tub, and then he handed him a large bath towel, which the boy wrapped around himself.

“
Where’s the Ragged Man?” J.P. asked.

“
Dead.”

“
Did you kill him?”

“
I hurt him, but your mother finished him off.”

“
He killed my birds.”

“
I know.”

“
Did he kill ’em all?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Dancer, too?”

“
I’m afraid so.”

“
He was a bad man. He killed my dad.”

“
He killed a lot of people.”

Judianne couldn’t take it anymore. She held her arms out for a hug, but before he could fall into her embrace, she heard the meow of a small kitten.

* * *

“
Oh, look!” J.P. darted past his mother. For a second he could have sworn the kitten’s dark eyes flashed red, but he paid it no mind as he scooped it up and snuggled it to his face.

He turned and smiled at Rick and Judianne and asked, “Can I keep him?”