2 Dog River Blues Read online

  Jessica looked uncomfortable with her arms folded across her chest. The pained frown she wore was unpleasant and added years to her face. Roy seemed relaxed and was either unaware of the volcano seated beside him waiting to erupt, or so used to Jessica’s moods that he didn’t care. On the other hand, I was getting damned tired of her attitude.

  I had no idea what I’d done to piss her off this time, but I decided to play it cool. “How about you?” I asked her.

  “Just a Coke.” Her voice turned frosty as she added, “Diet if you have it.”

  “Certainly your highness.” I reached into the fridge, pushed aside a diet Coke and pulled out my last regular Coke. I can be as passive-aggressive as the next person. I gave the can a little toss. She fumbled it, dropping the unopened Coke into her lap. The glare she shot me was enough to freeze a steam pipe. She popped the top without a word and I handed her a mug before grabbing a Miller Lite for myself. Finally, I crossed over to the port settee and settled in.

  Roy downed his drink in two long swallows, then smacked his lips. “Nothing like a little rum to help a man relax.”

  He waved me down when I started to reach for the empty cup and added, “I never have more than one. It’s one of those habits I could find addicting, so I control the urge.”

  Roy set the mug on the counter and took a small, darkened pipe from his pocket, holding it up for my inspection. “My biggest vice, one I can’t seem to control. Mind if I smoke?”

  I have an unwavering rule on board; have had since the day I bought the boat. No smoking. Yet for some reason, I said, “Go ahead.”

  He took a pouch out of his other pocket and began to build his smoke. I couldn’t help but smile at his little ritual. Scoop a little, tap the tobacco down, and scoop a little more. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled out an old Zippo lighter and lit the pipe.

  The rich tobacco smoke spewed forth and filled the boat, wrapping us in a scented cocoon. There was a hint of anise or almond or perhaps cherry, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but somehow it made me want to go out and buy a pipe.

  Easing back into the cushions I sipped my beer and watched Jessica. She squeezed and released the can in her hand, playing a metallic symphony that was doing an excellent job of eroding my mellow mood. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I asked, “Something bothering you, Jess?”

  Her head snapped in my direction and she gave me a cutting look. “I told you my name is Jessica.”

  Roy chuckled and pointed his pipe stem in my direction. “When she was six years old she beat the crap out of a neighbor boy for calling her Jess. Since that day I can’t remember anyone calling her that and not suffering some consequence or another.”

  “You mean there’s something worse than the silent treatment and that evil eye she keeps casting my way?”

  “I’m not giving you the evil eye. If I were, you’d know it. It just so happens I was deep in thought. Something you don’t seem too familiar with.”

  I raised my hands in mock defeat. “If there’s something you want to say to me, why don’t you just spit it out?"

  “Fine.” She drained the rest of her Coke. “Were you born an asshole, Wes?”

  I was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

  “Gran’s going into the hospital next week and she’s convinced she’s not coming out. All she can talk about is how she wishes she could meet you and maybe talk to you a little.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

  “You’re being a little melodramatic,” Roy cut in. “She’s going in for a hip replacement and I don’t remember her saying anything about being afraid she wouldn’t make it through the surgery.”

  Jessica transferred her glare from me to Roy and he said, “I’ll admit that she did say something about wanting to see Wes before she died. But I don’t think she was talking about her imminent death.”

  “She told me too many people she knew were going into the hospital and not coming out,” Jessica said. “If that’s not expressing concern about dying, then what is?”

  “You’re right dear.” Roy continued to look down at the pipe in his hand, studying it with exaggerated care, intent on backing away from the discussion.

  “All right,” I said.

  Roy raised his eyes and looked at me without moving.

  “All right what?” Jessica asked.

  “All right, I’ll go see her. Set up a time and place and I’ll be there.” My stomach did a little jig as I said the words, and my hands trembled. I had enough trouble interacting with my mother, let alone a grandmother who hadn’t bothered to contact me in over thirty years.

  Jessica jumped up, threw herself across the cabin and engulfed me with a hug. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

  I disengaged from her and said, “I’m not making any promises beyond the one visit. I still feel some resentment toward her.”

  Jessica grabbed Roy’s hand and gave it a tug. “Come on, let’s get out of here before he changes his mind.” To me she added, “I’ll talk to Gran tomorrow. Maybe we can do lunch?”

  “I guess we can do that,” I said, regretting my decision already.

  “Good.” Jessica raced up the stairs, towing Roy along behind her.

  He paused on the top step and turned to me. “I’ve got a friend who owns a helicopter. I’ll give him a call come daylight and see if he can fly us around. If Rusty’s on his boat, we’ll find him.”

  “If we don’t find him soon the book’s as good as gone,” I said.

  He gave a quick nod, and then followed Jessica out into the night.

  Chapter 19

  Alone, I took another beer from the fridge and stepped out into the cool night air. Time was running out and I dreaded the thought of defeat at the hands of Rusty and Fish.

  Dispirited, with depression creeping up on me, I sat down in the cockpit, put my feet up, and sipped my beer. As I contemplated life’s unfairness, I heard the sound of a boat motor in the distance. A few minutes later I saw the red port navigation light and the aft white light. Even though it was dark, I scooted down in the cockpit.

  I was pretty sure it was Rusty’s trawler, and as it motored by I managed to make out the name Carpe Diem on the transom. Rusty was headed home.

  I slipped into the cabin and grabbed my phone to call Roy. He didn’t answer. I picked up Roy’s gun and stuffed it into the pocket of my sweatshirt where it dragged against the stretchy fabric. I’d promised not to go off half-cocked by myself, but I told myself it wasn’t my fault Roy hadn’t answered his phone. I clipped the phone to my belt, grabbed the truck keys, and hastened off the boat.

  I tried Roy again as I pulled out of the parking lot. I considered calling Jessica, but I really didn’t want her involved anymore. Instead, I pressed down on the accelerator and pointed the truck toward Rusty’s place.

  The house was lit up and Rusty’s Cadillac was parked under the carport. To my relief, Fish’s truck was nowhere to be seen. I parked one house down from Rusty’s, and made the trek up the drive with my hand on the gun in my pocket, jumping at every night sound I encountered.

  A quick check around the house confirmed that Carpe Diem was tied to the dock and that no one was laying in wait for me outside. At the front door I took a deep breath, pulled the automatic from my pocket and turned the knob.

  Pushing open the door I was surprised to see Rusty seated in the lounge chair reading a book. On the table next to him was a large glass of brown tinted liquid and a cell phone. As I drew the door shut behind me he looked up, closed the book, and smiled. “I’ve been expecting you ever since I saw you slinking around in the cockpit of your boat.”

  “You don’t seem concerned by the fact that I’m standing here pointing a gun at you.” I looked around. “Why’s that, Rusty?”

  “That’s because I’ve taken out an insurance policy.” Placing his book on the table next to the phone, he picked up his glass. “Can I offer you a glass of sweet tea?”

  I glanced across
the room to the hallway leading off to the kitchen and bedrooms.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” he said. “We’re alone. I’ve decided to try another approach, rather than kill you that is.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Maybe you could put the gun down and we can talk about it.”

  “I don’t think so.” I moved two steps closer to Rusty so that I was standing over him. “Why don’t you give me the manuscript and I’ll leave you alone.”

  Rusty set his glass down and picked up the cell phone from the table. “There’s someone you need to talk to,” he said.

  “Who?”

  Rusty raised the phone and made a show of pushing a button, and then he held the phone out to me.

  I snatched it from his hand and held it to my ear. “Who the hell is this?”

  “Wes?” Cathy’s voice trembled out from the phone. "Fish says he’ll kill me if you don’t listen to Rusty.”

  What she said was almost drowned out on her end by the piercing bray of a train horn.

  “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t like the way he looks at me, Wes.”

  Before I could respond Fish’s voice came on. “I owe you big time and it won’t bother me to take it out on her. Then it’s your cousin’s turn. That bitch almost took my finger off. Now put Rusty back on the phone.”

  Rusty kept his side of the conversation brief. “Ah huh. Yup. Just stick to the plan. I’ll take care of him.”

  “She has nothing to do with this,” I said when Rusty put down the phone.

  “And nothing will happen to her as long as you behave,” he said. “Now you go on back to your boat, don’t call your uncle, don’t call Jessica. Sit tight and by noon tomorrow the book will be in the hands of its new owner. At that point I’ll call and let you know where you can find Cathy. That way no one gets hurt, I get my money, and it’s all over.”

  “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  “An unnecessary threat,” he said. “Now if you’ll just close the door behind you when you leave.”

  “How do I know Fish won’t hurt her?”

  “He’s on his way back here as we speak. Cathy will be left tied up in a place Fish assures me is safe and comfortable. I can control Fish as long as you behave. I’m hoping we can put this foolishness behind us. Good night, Wes.”

  I stared down at him for several moments, then turned and left. What else could I do? As soon as I got out to the truck I set the gun on the seat next to me and tried to call Roy again, but my phone was dead.

  By the time I got back to the marina I thought I’d figured out where they were keeping Cathy. I remembered hearing the train when we were at Fish’s place. It would be just like Fish to take Cathy back to his place, and when I thought about what he had tried to do to Jessica a cold finger of fear crept up my spine.

  I was going to check out my theory with or without Roy’s help, but I knew I had to let him know what I was doing. I didn’t trust Rusty to live up to his side of the bargain and I knew that if something happened to me, Cathy would be at Fish’s mercy.

  I parked the truck and ran to my boat. I knew my twelve volt phone charger was packed in a plastic box stored under the front berth. The problem was a dozen plastic boxes were piled under the berth.

  Naturally, the charger was in the bottom box. I fumbled around until I found it, then I grabbed a flashlight and headed back out to the truck. As I drove out of the lot I plugged in the phone and tried Roy again. There was still no answer so I left a message telling him about Cathy and my theory that Fish had her at his place. I also asked him to meet me there if he got the message.

  By the time I reached the turnoff to Fish’s trailer, I’d managed to calm myself down. I was still worried about Cathy, but the truth of the matter was, my keeping a cool head about the whole thing was the only chance she had.

  I parked the truck, climbed out, and took three deep calming breaths. Then I released the automatic’s safety and started off into the woods at a brisk pace. The air was crisp and biting and smelled of apple wood and pine. Above, the night was clear and star filled.

  I paused at the end of the wood line and looked around. The trailer was dark and appeared deserted.

  Fish seemed like the kind of guy who was over confident and I suspected he might very well be sleeping. Then again it may be a trap. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t leave without checking the place out and seeing if Cathy was there.

  I drew another deep breath and took off running along the tree line toward the back of the trailer. This time, without the rain and mud, the going was much easier. When I reached the front of the trailer I climbed the steps and stood listening for a good five minutes before reaching for the door latch.

  The door was unlocked and it squeaked as I pushed it open. Again I stood and listened. I could hear the drip, drip, drip of a leaky water faucet off to my right. I took the flashlight from my pocket, switched it on, and started forward. The floor groaned, and I felt a knot begin to form between my shoulder blades. It began to itch like a giant mosquito bite, but I had the gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other so I couldn’t scratch it.

  I headed toward the bedroom, well aware that if Fish was there the floorboards were telling him he wasn’t alone. Realizing I would not be able to sneak up on Fish, I crossed the room quickly.

  The place was empty. No Fish. No Cathy. But someone had been there since I’d last visited. The bloody sheets had been removed from the bed and lay in a crumpled heap in a corner of the bedroom.

  I moved back to the kitchen and there, lying next to a McDonald’s takeout bag was a small brown wallet. I walked over, picked it up, and opened it. All that was inside was Cathy’s driver’s license.

  Chapter 20

  I turned and ran for the barn, the pistol held out in front of me. This time there was no light on in the building. When I reached the door I took out my flashlight and stood listening for about a minute. In the distance I heard the rumble of a train and somewhere off toward the highway a car engine sputtered to life.

  The barn itself creaked and groaned as old buildings often do, but there were no voices. No sounds that indicated anyone was nearby. I slipped inside, crouched, and staying as deep in the shadows as possible extended the pistol in front of me.

  I then held the flashlight in my left hand out to the side, as far away from my body as possible. I knew that if someone was waiting for me they were likely to shoot as soon as the light went on. I hoped if that happened they would shoot toward the light, which was now three feet from my body.

  I turned on the flashlight. Nothing. No shots. No sounds of someone rushing toward me. No Fish. Just the old car sitting in the middle of the barn.

  When I stepped outside I found Roy, rifle in hand, leaning against the side of the barn. He stood staring out into the night, watching and listening.

  “I see you got my message,” I said as I joined him. I tucked the pistol into my belt and asked, “You alone?”

  Roy shook his head. “We got here just as you started running to the barn. I’d have followed you in but I was afraid you’d shoot me, so I decided to stand guard out here. I left Jessica at the trailer. I take it you didn’t find Cathy.”

  “I found her wallet in the trailer, but she’s not here.” I said. “Looks like Rusty keeps the manuscript.”

  A branch snapped and Roy put a hand on my arm. He brought his rifle up, and I reached for my pistol, but it was Jessica who raced from the shadows. She was holding a phone book and seemed excited as she ran up to us.

  “I think I know where Cathy is.” She pushed the book into my hands. I took it from her, shined my flashlight on the open page, and looked at the heading: MOTELS.

  “This doesn’t tell us a thing.” I said. There was a ring of disappointment in my voice and she snatched the book back from me, pointing to a small ad that had been circled in red.

  Roy and I both leaned in and read:

  Turner’s M
otel and rustic cabins.

  Daily, weekly, monthly rates.

  “What’s the likelihood he took her there?” I asked. “He could have circled that ad months ago. And even if she is there, what do we do? Go up to the desk clerk and ask if Fish Conners came in with a kidnapped woman. I think we’re just going to have to trust that they’ll let her go once they sell the manuscript.”

  I started back toward the truck, but Jessica stopped me. “Don’t be so pig headed, Wes. We can’t trust Rusty, and we can’t trust Fish. I’m telling you, the book was right next to the phone and the red pen was sitting on top of it. You’ve seen his place, what are the chances that he’s organized enough to keep a specific pen with his phone book. If he used that pen, he did it today.”

  I moved away from Jessica, but Roy stepped in front of me. “She’s right, Wes,” he said. “It’s worth a shot. An old classmate of mine, Leroy Parkens, owns the place. It’s only a five minute drive. If she’s not there, we let them have the damn book.”

  I stared at him for several moments, then looked over at Jessica and saw the excitement reflected in her eyes. “You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes, after all,” I said.

  “I prefer Kinsey Millhone,” she said. “Sherlock’s a little too stuffy for me.”

  “Who the hell’s Kinsey Millhone?” I asked.

  “You mean you’ve never read any of Sue Grafton’s books? You’re not one of those guys who wouldn’t think of reading a mystery by a woman, are you? What, a tough woman detective threatens your masculinity?”

  Roy reached out, grabbed Jessica’s arm, and began to steer her back toward the way we’d come. “This isn’t a book club. This girl must be scared out of her wits and the sooner we find her the better. Besides, once we find her we can go after Rusty. I’m getting real sick of this guy.”

  Deep in thought, I followed them to the car. I no longer cared about getting the manuscript back. It wasn’t right that Cathy had to suffer because my grandfather took a souvenir off of a dead German soldier over sixty years ago. If we didn’t recover the book, so be it. But I’d be damned if I was going to let Rusty and Fish profit from its sale after this.