Dangerous Times (25 page)

Lisa closed the tailgate. She and Beverly
rested against it. Frank unraveled the tarp and began to snap it
down. Saying to Beverly, “You’re sure it’s a good place to dump
him?”

“Should be…” Beverly panted. “Long time
since the picnic…best place I can think of.”

All right,” Frank said to her. “Leave your
car about a quarter-mile from the spot, then go the rest of the way
with Lisa.”

The tarp secured tightly over the bed, it
sounded with drizzle. Beverly seemed hypnotized by it. Frank took
her by the arm and walked her back under the sheltering eave.

Lisa joined them and said to Frank, “I
really think you should come with us.”

“And I really don’t think I should,” he
answered. No way was he going to leave his suitcase unguarded at
Beverly’s. “Like I told you before, there are people out there
looking for me,” was good enough reason to give Lisa. “I can’t take
the chance.”

“And we can?” Beverly frowned.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Frank
said. “Don’t go over the speed limit. When you get there you’ll be
alone; no picnics in this kind of weather.” Then asked, “Where did
you buy the rug?”

Beverly was dismayed by the question.

“You’re going to get her a new one?” Lisa
asked.

“No,” Frank said. “C’mon, Beverly, try to
remember.”

“Garage sale,” she answered finally. “Dozen
years ago, maybe.”

“Paid cash?” he asked.

“Yup,” she nodded.

“Perfect,” Frank said. “No way to connect
you to the rug.” And now to both women: “Means you won’t have to
roll the body out and get rid of the rug somewhere else.”

“Thank you, God,” Lisa said with a skyward
look, blinking against the drizzle.

“If there’s any way to cover the rug,” Frank
went on, “like with dirt, mud, branches, try to do it.”

“Okay,” Lisa said. “That it?”

“No,” Frank told her. “After you dump the
rug, you’ll drive back to Beverly’s car. That’s where you’ll
abandon the pickup with Staub’s keys in the ignition.” He said,
“Before you both get into Beverly’s car, take the rubber gloves
off, turn them inside out and pocket them.”

With another look of dismay Beverly said,
“Inside out and pocket them?”

“Christ sake,” Frank muttered. “Please, just
do what I say.” Then to them both: “On your way back here, stop and
throw the gloves in a dumpster. Behind a store, gas station,
someplace like that.” Then asked, “Want to go over it again?”

“No, I got it,” Lisa said.

Frank gave Beverly a look. She pressed her
lips together, thought a moment, and then said, “Got it.”

“It’ll be okay,” Frank smiled warmly.
“Looking forward to hearing all about it when you get back.”

Beverly headed for the carport. Lisa called
after her: “I’ll drive out into the street and wait to follow you.”
Lisa then stood there and gazed at Frank.

“Sorry,” he said. “Forgot.” He reached under
the marine jacket, pulled another wad of hundreds out and handed it
to her.

Lisa lifted her slicker up and put it into
the front pocket of her jeans. She gave him a hug, rubbed his
crotch and said, “Keep it warm for me.”

Chapter
84

Kirk and Emily heard a whirring sound and
looked upward. The deck’s loading hatch slid open and stopped
midway. Haze and drizzle drifted down into the storage locker. Da
Shan’s big shoes settled on the top rung of the brass ladder that
hugged the wall. The hatch whirred shut as the Asian giant climbed
downward.

“My God…” Emily said, edging backward with
Kirk, both halting against a supply cage.

Da Shan reached the bottom and lumbered
slowly toward the cuffed pair. “Tell where money,” he said to Kirk
in a deep rumble of broken English.

“There is no money,” Kirk told him.

Da Shan placed his giant palm over Emily’s
face, fingers wrapping her head. “I crush, you no tell,” he
threatened Kirk.

Emily flailed out at him with her free arm.
“Hurt me, my father’ll kill you!” her shout muffled under his
hand.

Da Shan released her and backhanded her
across the face. As he did, his upper torso twisted away from
Kirk.

With a hard slam Kirk drove a fist into the
giant’s kidney. Da Shan dropped in pain onto one knee. Kirk punched
him again, square in the temple. Keeling over, Da Shan swung his
arm out and crumpled into an unconscious heap.

The arm had swiped Kirk and Emily with such
force, the cuffed pair were knocked off their feet, sent flying to
land at the bulkhead hatch. Kirk’s head hit the steel and he
slumped to the floor, out cold.

Emily tried to shake him awake. “Hey,
c’mon—c’mon!” Her green eyes still moist from the burn of Da Shan’s
slap, she shifted them worriedly to the floored giant.

Chapter
85

Beverly swerved her Chevy onto the dirt
shoulder, brushed the bushes and came to a stop. Lisa pulled up in
Staub’s pickup and waited with kitchen-gloved hands on the wheel.
The drizzly rain tapped at the roof. It joined the whapping rhythm
of the wipers and sent Lisa deep into thought.

Her concentration was broken by the click of
the passenger door. Beverly climbed in, unzipped her yellow slicker
and took off her gloves.

“Put those back on,” Lisa told her. “Get
fingerprints on anything, we’re screwed.”

Beverly obeyed. She pulled a handkerchief
out and dabbed the drizzle from her face. “Darn,” she said, gazing
at the handkerchief, “my makeup…”

“That’s an easy fix,” Lisa said. “Be worse
if we got our hair wet.” She checked in the rearview to make sure
the hood of her red slicker covered her hair. She then put the
pickup in gear and started forward.

“Go slow,” Beverly said. “Been a long time
since I was here; creep, just creep.”

Lisa slowed to a crawl and said, “I’ve come
up with a plan.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Beverly
whimpered.

Lisa glanced at her. “Are you crying?”

“This is where we had our picnic,” Beverly
choked. “Ray and I had such a good time. It was our wedding
anniversary…”

Beverly thinking now that today is Ray’s
birthday. She had wanted to visit him at the cemetery.

Then with a sudden change of mood, Beverly
went on the attack. “And Bob was with us at the picnic!” she
spouted angrily. “Bob Staub, Lisa—Bob, who’s dead in the back! And
now you’ve got a plan that’s going to get us into more
trouble?!”

“Take it easy,” Lisa said.

“Jesus H!” Beverly huffed as she turned to
look out her window.

Lisa sniffed the air and said, “You’ve been
drinking, haven’t you?”

Beverly kept her attention on the hilly
woods. “What do you care,” she said.

“Damn it,” Lisa grumbled. “You were drinking
while driving—at a time like this! Where’s the bottle?”

“Left it in the car.” Desperate to change
the subject, there was only one thing she could come up with:
“What’s your plan?” she asked roughly.

“Since you’re drunk I want you to listen
carefully.”

“I’m not drunk,” Beverly said, eyes
searching for the bridle path as they crept along.

“Whatever,” Lisa said. “The plan is, on our
way back home we stop at Parson’s. Huge Saturday sale. Get
ourselves some new clothes and—”

“New clothes!” Beverly gushed with laughter.
“That’s some plan!”

“I wasn’t finished yet,” Lisa griped.

“Okay, okay,” Beverly said.

“All right,” Lisa sighed. “We need to buy
the clothes so Frank won’t be suspicious about us being gone so
long.”

“Gone where?”

“Stop butting in,” Lisa complained. “After
we buy the clothes, we go to their Sports and Travel
Department.”

Beverly burst into laughter again. “Sports
and Travel Department!”

“Oh, sure,” Lisa said to no one, “she’s not
drunk.”

“I’m under a lot of pressure,” Beverly
squirmed, laughter slipping away. “I’m worried about my son; don’t
know where he is. He’d get us out of this trouble, you bet.”

“We’re not in trouble,” Lisa said, “and
there won’t be any if we do this right.” Lisa needed Beverly in on
her plan. She played the sympathy card: “I miss Kirk, too…You know
as well as I do that he can use a vacation. Must be having a good
time with all the money Frank gave him.”

“Stop!”

“I’m just trying to—”

“No,” Beverly interrupted. “The bridle
path.”

Lisa hit the brakes, looked to her right and
saw the opening at the edge of the woods. “Shit,” she groaned,
“it’s raining harder now.” Lisa shifted into low. “Don’t want to
get stuck; gotta get to the top of the hill before it gets all
muddy.” She turned onto the path.

Creeping upward Lisa said, “After we get the
new clothes, we go to Sports and Travel and find a suitcase that
matches Frank’s. Shouldn’t be a problem, new Samsonite.”

“And what’re you going to do with it?”

“Money, Bev,” Lisa said. “Where do you think
Frank’s been getting it from?”

“His suitcase?”

“Jam-packed with money,” Lisa smiled. “After
we buy the suitcase we’ll go to the used bookstore on Gaffey and
fill it with paperbacks.” She poked Beverly. “Know what I’m
saying?”

Beverly looked out into the woods, lips
pressed together, grasping what was in Lisa’s money-bag mind. “I
know what you’re saying,” she said turning back to her, “and it
tells me you’re crazy. Frank’s not stupid, y’know.”

“The only thing that makes him stupid is
sex, and that’s where you come in.”

“What?!” Beverly yelped.

“Hold it,” Lisa said as she rolled the
pickup over the crest of the bridle path. On level ground now, she
eyed the clearing, the rain battering the grass and bordering
trees.

“What did you mean by that sex stuff,”
Beverly pressed her.

“Later,” Lisa said, pointing toward a mound
of dirt. “Too much to get done here.” She pulled forward and
stopped with the tailgate alongside the dug-out earth. “Is this
perfect or what?”

“Looks like a grave,” Beverly frowned with
thoughts of her long gone husband.

Lisa hopped out and Beverly stayed put.
“C’mon,” Lisa said, “let’s get moving.”

Beverly zipped up her slicker, slid out and
helped Lisa unsnap the tarp. The rug exposed, Beverly turned from
it with a grimace. Lisa dropped the tailgate and climbed into the
bed. Beverly followed, boosting herself up with a grunt.

They went to the cab end of the bed, dropped
to their knees and pushed the rug. Lisa saying, “Slides easier when
it’s wet.”

It slipped off the bed and landed upright
against the tailgate. The two women stood and watched the rug as it
edged its way to one side. Toppling over, it snagged on the
tailgate and unraveled. Staub’s body rolled out and landed faceup
on the wet grass, feet pointing toward the muddy hole.

Lisa and Beverly stepped to the tailgate and
gazed down at the corpse, rain diluting the blood.

“Jesus H!” Beverly stomped. “Now we’ll have
to touch him,” she said, wiping the rain from her face. “Let’s just
leave him where he is.”

“Frank’s right,” Lisa told her. “Longer it
takes to find the body, the better. We’ll put him in the hole and
lay the rug over him.”

Lisa sat on the tailgate and pushed herself
off. Beverly put her gloved hands out for assistance. Lisa helped
her down and they set their eyes on the body.

Lisa pulled at her red slicker hood to make
sure her hair was covered. “Okay,” she said. “We each grab an ankle
and drag him in.”

Lisa bent and took hold of the left ankle
with her powder-blue gloved hands. She looked at Beverly, just
standing there. “C’mon, Bob’s not going to bite you.”

Beverly drew hesitantly closer. She tugged
her yellow rain hat down and gathered her nerve. Bending, she
closed her eyes and grabbed the other ankle. “Gawd,” she
sighed.

“We pull on three,” Lisa said.
“One…two…three!” Moving backward Lisa glanced behind her and placed
her booted feet into the shallow grave.

Beverly slipped at the edge, let go of the
ankle and screamed as she fell on top of the body, both slithering
down into the muddy hole. A gurgling sound came from Staub’s throat
and his meaty hand clamped Beverly’s arm.

“He’s alive!” she hollered, thrashing
around, trying to free herself.

In a panic Lisa packed mud over Staub’s face
and suffocated him, and the hand lost its grip. Beverly crawled
weakly up onto the wet grass and fainted facedown.

Chapter
86

Kirk was out cold, slouched against the
steel hatch. Emily sat alongside him, her fearful stare on Da Shan,
the giant regaining consciousness.

Da Shan rose clumsily to his feet. Enraged
at having been felled he lumbered forward and reached down. With
each hand he clutched Kirk and Emily by the throat. Emily choked
and struck out at him. The giant tightened his grip and lifted the
pair.

The hatch lock clanked. Da Shan grunted in
frustration. To clear the entrance he flung the couple against a
supply cage. Emily sank to the floor, gasped and fought for air.
Kirk stirred and made a guttural sound.

The entrance cleared, Da Shan backed up,
Asian eyes on the hatch. Dr. May Kuan stepped over the threshold,
medical satchel in hand. From behind her horn-rimmed glasses she
glanced at the couple while conversing with Da Shan in Chinese.

Da Shan raised a fist toward Kirk and Emily.
May Kuan waved the giant off with a “Shoo!” Da Shan went to the
brass ladder and began his climb toward the ceiling hatch.

Finally, Kirk was fully conscious. He gazed
at Emily. She gave him a look of relief. May Kuan approached. “I’m
Doctor May Kuan, Eddie Jones’ niece,” she said. “Da Shan has told
me you refuse to answer my uncle’s question.” She got down before
them and sat back on her heels.

“You’re Ty Moore’s cousin?” Kirk asked. May
Kuan nodded apathetically. Kirk sensed there must be trouble
between her and Ty.