Death By The Riverside Part 41

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Lafitte came over to Korby and handed him his omnipresent phone. He listened for a moment then glanced at his watch.

"Dawn is in a few hours, Miss James. You have until them to think it over. I suggest you sign or you will find out how unpleasant things can be. I have no more time for this."

Korby stood up. So did the rest of his gang.

"Lieutenant Lafitte and I are going to rendezvous with the stalwart Sergeant Ranson," he continued, "to convince her of the error of her * 264 *

ways. You were very lucky last time, Miss Knight. This time some of my boys will keep you company and you shall not be so lucky. Milo, stay here and make sure they don't get away."



Milo nodded, holding his broken hand. He knew better than to whine.

Korby, Lafitte, and their a.s.sortment of goons left. Milo and two other thugs stayed. They led the three of us out to the barn and hog-tied us with nylon rope, knotting it halfway between our hands and feet.

Milo held a lighter under each knot to melt the strands together.

"Try your luck against these knots, b.i.t.c.h," Milo sneered. He was holding his left hand. I hoped it hurt like h.e.l.l. "I ought to put it in you and straighten you out, so you don't die a d.y.k.e," he threatened.

"Milo, you're such a hot stud that all the watermelons in the area are trembling," I retorted. One of the thugs snickered.

"c.u.n.t," he spat out and kicked me in the stomach.

Someday I will learn to keep my mouth shut. If I live long enough.

Then they left. It was cold here in the barn and I guess they wanted to be comfortable.

I lay on my side, not moving, hoping the pain would ease a bit.

* 265 *

CHAPTER 24.

Prisoners have one advantage over jailers. The jailer believes captivity is a constant, that, for example, once you're securely hog-tied and left in the barn, you will stay that way. The jailer doesn't constantly worry about recapturing you. But the prisoner is always looking for ways to escape.

Korby was right. The last time I had been lucky. But this time I was prepared.

I rolled and inched my way over to Cordelia until we were back to back and her hands could touch mine.

"You can't untie this," she whispered.

"What are you doing?" Th.o.r.eau asked from where he was lying.

"Not so loud," I cautioned. Milo might have posted a guard. "Can you maneuver a little closer and touch my hands?" I asked Cordelia.

"But what are you doing?" Th.o.r.eau persisted.

"Quiet," I hissed at him. To Cordelia, "The left sleeve edge." I felt her hands groping for my sleeve. "There's a flat object inside the cuff, through the torn part. Can you get it?"

"I think so," she grunted, straining for the right angle. "I feel something... Aha, I think I've got a finger on it."

"Can you pull it out?"

"What are you doing?" Th.o.r.eau again.

"Trying a new s.e.xual position," I retorted. "Oh, yes, put your fingers on it, take it, faster..."

"Quiet, both of you," Cordelia said. "I've got it out. I'm taking the paper off now."

"Careful, don't cut yourself," I cautioned.

* 266 *

It was an industrial razor. One side is blunted with a metal flap and the blade is wrapped in light cardboard. They come in handy at times like this. And fit neatly in the cuff of jean jackets.

"Can you cut my ropes?" I asked. She performed surgery on people; she could probably handle nylon rope.

"Yes, I'll try. Don't move."

I tried not to move. "Speed counts. I can tolerate a few nicks," I said. I grunted as she took my advice to heart.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"Just keep cutting."

She did. Even so it took a while for her to cut through the ropes.

It's hard to get good cutting leverage when your hands are tied behind your back. I could only hope that Milo was feeling c.o.c.ky and wouldn't check on us every half hour or so.

As soon as I was free, I started to work on Cordelia's bonds. They had used a lot of rope on each of us, and I had to saw through several strands to get her free. Time was pa.s.sing and I wanted to be long gone before dawn showed up. I finally hacked through the last nylon fibers and was able to untangle the coils from her wrists and ankles.

"G.o.d, that's good," she said with a quick smile at me.

"Hurry up, I'm in pain," Th.o.r.eau whined.

I started cutting through his ropes. He was probably a decent guy; I just wasn't in a position to like him. It seemed to take longer to cut his bonds. The razor was getting duller, but his constant requests to hurry up didn't speed things along. When I finished cutting, I left him to untangle himself. He could tell himself to hurry.

I wanted to know where Milo and the goon brothers were. Opening the barn door a crack, I looked out. No one in sight. But it was still too dark for sight to be wonderfully reliable.

"I'm going to look around," I whispered to Cordelia. Th.o.r.eau was still thras.h.i.+ng about. "Be right back."

I slipped out of the barn. I let my eyes adjust to the dark before I moved on. I hung close to the barn until I got to the corner nearest the house. From there I scurried to a covering of trees. I worked my way through the trees until I could see the house. There were still a few lights on and all the curtains were open. Milo and one of the backup goons were in the parlor drinking and eating. Unfortunately, the other backup goon was standing guard in the driveway, lounging on Karen's * 267 *

car. We would have to cross an open stretch of lawn to get to the road.

It would be hard to get across it without him seeing us. All the outdoor lights had been turned on, and the sky would begin getting lighter any minute now. Even if we got to the road, the only cars likely to pa.s.s would be Korby, et al, returning.

I crept quietly back to the barn, pondering our dilemma.

"There's a guard in the driveway with a good shot at seeing us if we cut across the lawn," I reported.

"Why don't we hide in the hayloft?" Th.o.r.eau brilliantly suggested.

"Under some of the bundles."

"Do you know how they find people hiding in a hayloft, Th.o.r.eau, old buddy?" I inquired.

"No."

"When they have guns, as these thugs most a.s.suredly do, they fire into the hay until they hit something that bleeds."

"You got any better ideas?" he retorted.

Several impolite suggestions came to mind, but I refrained from making them. We couldn't afford to waste time arguing.

"Do you have any kerosene, gasoline, anything like that stored around here?" I asked Cordelia.

"I think so. Probably in the gardener's shed," she replied after thinking for a moment.

"But the guard will see you if you try to go there," Th.o.r.eau interjected.

"Maybe," Cordelia said. "What are you going to do?"

"Create enough of a diversion to get us to a car and out of here,"

I answered. "On foot, we don't stand much of a chance, even if we get by that guard."

"You're right. I'll go get the gasoline," she agreed.

"No," Th.o.r.eau protested. "It's too dangerous."

"So is staying here," I said.

"Then you go get the gasoline," he countered.

"Fine." I shrugged. "Where is it?"

"On one of the middle shelves in the back part of the shed," he answered.

"I know where it is. I'll get it," Cordelia said.

"Cordelia." Th.o.r.eau stopped her. "Send the detective. She's the one they're really after, anyway."

* 268 *

Cordelia turned and stared at him for a beat, a tight hard look in her eyes. Then she slipped out the barn door and was gone.

"If anything happens to-" he started.

"You'll kick yourself for not going in her place," I cut him off.

"Find rags, cloth, anything for a fuse."

I didn't wait for a reply, but started climbing up the ladder into the hayloft to get the rags I had seen the night of the ball.

Sometimes it takes only a moment, the briefest of seconds for the irrevocable to happen. To knock a vase off the shelf and watch it fall and shatter, never to be put back together again. The second for two cars to impact, with the lives lost or broken. Sometimes, all it takes is a word, too harsh a truth, too brittle a lie. I had just witnessed one of those seconds. I hoped the look that I had seen flicker over Cordelia's face in that instant was never turned on me. Even more, I hoped I would never do anything that would deserve such a look.

I gathered all the rags I could and several handfuls of hay. I wondered why there were so many bales of hay still here with all the horses either sold or stabled elsewhere. On a hunch, I stuck my hand into one of the bales and probed around. My hand ran into plastic wrapping. I didn't even need to look to know what was hidden in the bales. No wonder Korby wanted this land. No one would question his putting hay in his own barn. I went back down the ladder.

"This is all I could find," Th.o.r.eau said, throwing an old horse blanket at me. It was too thick and large for me to use.

Cordelia came back carrying a gas can.

"Thank G.o.d you're back," Th.o.r.eau said, making a move to embrace her. She ducked around him and came over to me.

"Here's the gas. Now what?" She handed me a heavy red metal can.

I thought for a minute. I would have to take Th.o.r.eau with me, as much as I disliked the idea. But I didn't trust him by himself.

"I left the keys to Karen's car under the driver's seat on the right side," I explained. She nodded. This might be the last time I ever saw her; the thought hit and silenced me. I swallowed hard and coughed to cover. I continued, "We're going to create a diversion. When the guard is far enough away from the car, get in and drive."

"What about you?"

"We'll meet you at the road."

* 269 *

"Good."

"But if we're not there, don't wait. Get to a phone and call every number you can think of, including Dial-a-Prayer."

She nodded.

"Where are you going?" Th.o.r.eau interrupted.

"Get all the rags together and as much hay as you can carry," I ordered. He hesitated until Cordelia nodded at him to do it.

I stood beside her, next to the door, not wanting to let her go. I started to give her directions.

"I know," she answered. "I own the place."

"Right." I tried to think of one more thing to mention to keep her one more second. "Cordelia. Be careful." It wasn't what I wanted to say.

Death By The Riverside Part 41

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Death By The Riverside Part 41 summary

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