Naked Frame (14 page)

"And this is your buddy, Gabby. How are you
doing, Gabby?" Joey punched him in the stomach.

Gabby fell to his knees, gasping for
breath.

Joey stepped back. "Now, you can make this
easy. Or you can make it painful."

Rebecca looked straight into his eyes.
"What's the point? You're going to kill us anyway."

Joey laughed. "That's Old School. I'm
sophisticated. Subtle. Just answer my questions and I'll let you go
on your merry way."

Rebecca hoped Gabby wasn't falling for
Joey's bullshit.

He stepped up close to her. "Tell me what
you know about my contract."

"What contract?" said Rebecca.

"Wrong answer." Joey punched her in the
face. "One more chance."

Blood dripped from Rebecca's nose. She
wondered if she had lost a tooth. "Screw you."

"No. Screw
you
." Joey punched her in
the stomach.

Rebecca fell to the concrete in agony.

Gabby said, "You bastard!"

One of the goons jabbed a rock-hard fist
into Gabby's ribs, and he collapsed to the floor in the fetal
position.

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch,"
screamed Rebecca.

One of the goons handed Joey a four-foot
galvanized pipe.

Joey grasped the pipe as though it were a
baseball bat, and stepped over to where Gabby was lying. "You know,
Gabby, back in the day, I was a helluva ball player."

"Okay. Wait." Rebecca gasped. "I saw the
contract."

"Now, see how easy that was? And did you
tell anybody about it?"

"Just Gabby."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

Joey cocked the bat, ready to take a swing
at Gabby's head. "Are you still sure?"

"Yes!"

"Get them out of here," said Joey.

The goon yanked Rebecca's arm, pulling her
to her feet. He and the other thug threw them back into the
van.

It was a long drive, but nobody spoke a
word.

When the van drove into an abandoned marina,
Rebecca understood what Bobby had in mind for them. Her nose was
bleeding and her teeth felt loose. And she guessed that Gabby was
suffering from cracked ribs. But what did it matter? They were
about to be fish food.

Bobby stayed in the van with the driver
while the two backseat thugs unloaded Rebecca and Gabby. They
ordered them to sit down on the dock, and used a rope to tie them
together, back to back. Then they zip-tied their ankles.

The thugs walked to the car. Rebecca
expected them to come back with cinder blocks and chains.

The engine started up, and the van drove
away.

"What the hell?" said Gabby.

CHAPTER 32 - Tuesday, 10:19 p.m.

Gabby said, "So, if Joey's not going to kill
us..."

"He probably hired somebody—like whoever it
was that killed Calvin."

"Wonderful."

"Fall over to your side."

"Why? What are we going to do? Play dead? I
don't think that's going to—"

"—no, Silly. Just do it. Fall over to your
right side."

"Okay, I'll play along."

They tipped over together.

"Now, we'll stretch our legs out straight so
our heels are touching."

"Okay. Now what? Is this some kind of
Houdini trick?"

"Not exactly. We'll roll over to the edge of
the dock. There's a lower deck. I saw the stairs."

"We're gonna roll down the stairs?"

"We'll try to hide down there."

"I guess that's better than sitting here in
plain view."

"Yeah. They could drive out here in a big
truck and just run over us."

"That's not how I want to go out."

"Okay, then let's go with my plan."

"Wait. How are we going to do this?"

"I'll roll on top of you. Then you'll roll
on top of me."

"Sounds painful—especially with our hands
tied behind us."

"If we roll fast, it won't be so bad. Let's
go."

They began to roll, gradually picking up
speed.

"Whoa. Hold it," said Gabby. "I'm going to
be sick."

They stopped on their sides.

"Go ahead," said Rebecca. "Throw up. But try
not to do it where my head is about to be."

"Don't rush me. I'm dizzy. But I think I'll
be okay in a minute."

"Listen. Do you hear that? A car's
coming."

Rebecca heaved to the side and they began to
roll again. She could hear the car getting closer. No. It was at
least two cars.

Almost to the edge of the dock. The cars
would be there any moment. They rolled down the stairs at full
speed, banging their way to the lower deck. At the bottom,
Rebecca's head hit the wood, nearly knocking her out.

They continued to roll several more
feet.

Rebecca said, "We've got to roll over
there—under the overhang."

They were all banged up, but getting pretty
good at maneuvering themselves. They rolled under the upper deck,
to the very edge of the lower deck. Gabby faced the edge.

Cars drove onto the dock. Rebecca figured
two cars. Doors opened.

One of the men said, "I thought they were
supposed to be sitting right here."

That's no hit man or gang
member, thought Rebecca. It's
cops
. So, they
weren't
going to be murdered. Her
arms and hands were both sore and somewhat numb from the rolling
trip. But the zip-tie around her wrists didn't seem as tight. Could
it have stretched? Not likely, she thought. In fact, her wrists and
hands should have been swollen after the all that rolling. She
pulled with all her might. There was no pain—only numbness. Would
she even feel it if the plastic zip-tie was peeling the skin off of
her hands?

Another cop said, "Mike, you and Ron check
that building over there. And that old pickup. Me and Bill will
search the boats."

Rebecca saw the flashlight beams
approaching. She heard two cops coming down the stairs.

They began to shine their lights into each
boat.

It was only a matter of time before one of
the flashlights pointed toward them. She yanked her left hand,
trying desperately to free it. But if she did manage to get her
hands loose, then what? She and Gabby should probably give up. Yell
to the cops. Go to jail.

But she still didn't know who framed her for
Big Bill's murder. Could she trust the cops to figure it out? She
was the obvious killer. Open and shut case. Why investigate
further?

The cops worked their way outward to the
ends of the dock, and began to walk back toward the center.

Rebecca saw one of them shining his light
under the edge of the upper dock. Within twenty seconds she and
Gabby would be discovered. No! She thrust her body upward and over
Gabby.

They rolled off the dock, into the
water.

CHAPTER 33 - Tuesday, 10:39 p.m.

As they sunk ever deeper into the dark
water, Gabby wondered why in the world Rebecca had done it. Jail
would have been better than instant death. If they could hold their
breath long enough, would they eventually bob to the surface and
float? But even if they could float, being back to back, wouldn't
one be breathing while the other drowned?

Surely the police had heard them splash into
the water.

Gabby felt the gradual rotation to vertical
as they went down. When he felt the soft muddy bottom, he
instinctively bent his knees, hoping Rebecca was doing the same. As
soon as he reached a squatting position, he jumped up. Apparently
she had done the same thing, because they were now bulleting toward
the surface. Would they make it to the top? They might not have
enough oxygen for a second try.

Miraculously, their heads broke through the
surface of the water.

Gabby began to move his legs frantically,
like a mermaid's tail, trying to stay above the water.

Rebecca whispered. "Be still. I've got
us."

Gabby stopped. How were they staying afloat?
What was Rebecca doing—resting her chin on the ledge? For now, he
didn't care how she was doing it. He wanted to call out to the
police before they went under again.

One of the cops said, "I think it came from
over here somewhere."

Gabby saw the flashlight beam, and realized
that he and Rebecca were under the lower deck. There was a foot of
clearance between the lower deck and the water. He almost yelled
for help. But he couldn't. Rebecca had told him to hold still. He
trusted her.

"Probably just a fish," said one of the
cops.

"Must have been a big one."

After the cops had walked along the back
edge of the lower dock inspecting it with their flashlights for
another minute or so, they went back up the stairs and joined their
fellow officers. Soon, doors opened and closed, and the cars drove
away.

Gabby said, "How are you holding—"

"—quiet," said Rebecca.

When the cars were far away, Gabby wanted to
speak, but he waited. He could hear his heart beating in his
ears.

"Okay," said Rebecca. "They're gone."

"How are you holding us up?"

"I managed to pull my hands loose. I'm
holding onto a joist. It's one of the boards that support the
decking."

"Well, you could have told me, so I wouldn't
have thought we were going to drown."

"They would have heard me. I pulled it free
right before I rolled us into the water."

"I really thought we were dead."

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't let them put us
in jail knowing Big Bill's killer might never be caught."

"We'd probably both get life."

"Or the electric chair."

"Well, I don't want to fry. But I sure don't
want to drown either."

"Don't worry. I've got it under control."
She began to untie the rope that was holding them back to back.

"Don't lose me," said Gabby. "I'll sink to
the bottom if you let go of me."

"I've got you." She pulled the last knot
apart and the rope began to loosen.

"I'm going under!"

Rebecca grabbed his arm and pulled him back
up. She let go of the board and started tying the rope around
Gabby's chest. They both began to sink.

"What are you doing?"

Rebecca reached up, grasped the board, and
pulled them back up. "I'm going to tie you to the dock and go find
a knife."

"Okay. Sounds good. I think."

"Here we go again." Several more times, she
released the board, worked at tying the rope around Gabby's chest,
grabbed hold of the board again, and pulled them back up.

She eased them over to the edge of the lower
deck and looped the rope around a dock post and pulled on it until
Gabby's head was positioned safely above the top of the water.

Rebecca pulled herself up, and climbed on
top of the deck. "Okay. Now we need to cut the rest of these
zip-ties off. There's got to be a knife on one of these boats." She
began hopping toward one of them.

"Be careful."

She tripped on something and nearly fell off
the dock.

"Maybe you'd better find a flashlight
first."

"Good idea, Smart Ass."

CHAPTER 34 - Tuesday, 10:52 p.m.

Gabby shined the flashlight under the dash
for Rebecca. "You really think you can hotwire this thing?"

"Sure."

"How do we know if this old truck will even
run?"

"We don't. But we're about to find out. Our
only other choice is to walk all the way back to town."

"I guess you do this a lot in your line of
work."

"Haven't done it in years. But it's pretty
easy on these older vehicles." She stripped another wire with the
knife she'd found on an old fishing boat.

"I hear a car coming."

"Get down."

Rebecca peeked over the top of the
dashboard, and her heart skipped a beat. It was a fully-restored,
1963 Riverside Red Chevy Impala Super Sport. She had dated a boy in
college with that exact same car. She loved classic cars like her
dad, and it had been the only reason she agreed to go out with the
otherwise unworthy suitor.

"Rebecca, get down."

The car doors opened, and one of the men
said, "Where the hell are they?"

Judging by the man's accent, he was
Hispanic.

Rebecca took another peek, and saw the man
taking out his cell phone.

"Bobby? We're here at the marina. Where are
they? I thought you said they'd be sitting out here in the plain
sight...yeah, we just got here...well, don't blame me. We were on
the other side of town when you called...Yeah, we've been drinking.
So, what?...You must not have tied them up very well, Bro, because
they're gone...Okay, yeah, we'll look around. If they're here,
we'll find them."

He led the other two men over to the stairs,
and down to the lower deck. "If they're still tied up, they
couldn't have gone far."

Rebecca said, "Okay. It's now or never." She
touched two wires together and the truck's starter clicked.

"It's not going to work," said Gabby. "We'd
better make a run for it."

The leader of the gang started barking
orders in Spanish.

Rebecca tried again, and the starter clicked
again. "The battery's weak."

Gabby took a quick look out the window.
"They're coming fast. We've got to run."

Rebecca tried again. This time the starter
worked. The engine coughed and sputtered at first, as though it had
not been started for several weeks. She revved it a couple of
times, dropped it into gear, and stomped the accelerator. The truck
began to move.

"Can't you go any faster?" said Gabby.

Rebecca glanced back at the truck bed. "It's
all that treated lumber in the bed." She had built a backyard deck
with her dad, and knew that the eight-foot 4-by-4's weighed about
forty pounds each.

They heard a gunshot and ducked. The back
window shattered and shards of glass rained down on the back of
their heads.