The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2) (22 page)

“The knife, Cody. You need to get me the knife.”

Cody nodded, focused, and struggled for a long minute. Finally, when the boat rocked in his favor, the knife skittered toward his grip. “Almost… Almost... There! Got it.”

“You’ll only have one chance to get it to me. Try to throw it across the deck.” She kicked off the flip-flops she’d borrowed from Libby, and lifted her feet off the floorboards, tucking them beneath her. “Now. Do it.”

Cody almost lost his balance with the next swell, but miraculously tossed the knife in a trajectory that bumped it against the bottom of the bench where Viv sat.

The waves grew higher, and she knew with the next rock of the boat she might lose her only chance. Quickly, she lowered her feet and cocooned them around the knife handle so it wouldn’t slide away.

“Careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

Viv grimaced. “I don’t care if I do. It’s our only chance.”

She thought of the great artists who’d used their toes to paint masterpieces when their hands gave out. If they could create such amazing works of art, she could maneuver a little knife up onto the bench. Couldn’t she?

Twice, three times, she tried and failed. But she didn’t let the thing out of her grip.

Uvi moaned and coughed.

“Hurry,” Cody said. “She’s waking up.”

This time she went slower, gripping the knife handle between her toes and slowly sliding it up onto the bench. Once there, she positioned herself sideways and used her feet now to raise it to her hands.

“Got it!” she cried.

“Be careful,” Cody said. “Don’t drop it.”

“I know,” she said, working it into a position where she could cut away the plastic ties. “Ouch.”

A spurt of blood trickled from her wrist, but she’d cut through one tie-wrap and her hand flew free. Quickly, she broke through the second and released her hand.

“Good job,” Cody said. “Now get the keys to the handcuffs.”

She dropped to her knees and leaned over Uvi’s prone body, probing her pants pockets until she found the keys. “Here they are. I’ve got ‘em.” Her heart swelled with the joy of near-success.

She stood and handed the keys to Cody, but was yanked down to the deck when Uvi grabbed her ankles.

“Not so fast, sweetie.”

Uvi seemed unsteady. For one brief moment, her eyes almost rolled back into her head again, but she maddeningly recovered and scrambled for the gun, clutching it in her hands. “You’re clever. I’ll give you that.”

Cody unlocked himself in seconds and threw himself across the deck at his boss, who hadn’t time to aim and shoot. The gun went off, nicking Vivian’s cheek.

Viv raised hand to the trickle of blood on her face, and looked with horror as Uvi turned the gun toward Cody’s stomach.

“No!” she screamed, lunging for the woman with the knife still clenched in her hand. “Let him go.”

The boat rocked. A giant wave assaulted them, rolling all three into the gunwale. Soaked and disoriented, it took Vivian a second to regain her bearings. Still gripping the knife, she brought it forward, straight into Uvi’s leg.

The woman dropped the gun and clutched at her calf, screaming obscenities at Vivian through a veil of soaking hair hanging over her eyes.

 Cody grabbed a rope and encircled Uvi’s body, pinning her arms to her sides.

She writhed. She kicked and screamed. When that didn’t work, she tried to bite him. “You’ll pay for this, you low class vermin,” she hissed.

Another wave hit the boat, this time tipping it dangerously on its side.

“Tie her up and let’s get out of here,” Viv said, eyeing the waves with apprehension. “Hurry.”

Cody dragged the woman to the stern, tied her to a metal bracket, and ran aft to the steering wheel. The keys still dangled in the ignition, and he quickly turned the key. “Come on, come on.”

It spluttered twice, then caught with a roar. Still naked, like a bronzed God, he took the wheel and turned the cabin cruiser into the waves to minimize the rolling, setting his sights for shore.

Chapter 41

It took the police two hours to arrive at The Seacroft.

Cody glanced across the living room at Uvi, who now sat primly on an antique chair with legs crossed, still in damp clothing, with hair hanging ragged over her face. It was as if she didn’t know she was a soaking wreck. She acted as though she were in polite company, chatting with a policewoman and smiling. Occasionally, he heard her words, laced with phrases like “…so hard to get decent help these days…” and “…wild imaginings of the lower class.”

Vivian had just mentioned the passport to the detective who’d taken the case. He’d forced it from Uvi’s hands, and after a brief struggle, examined it. “Hmm. This guy, this Mr. Polansky. You say he’s supposed to be alive, traveling abroad for business?”

Vivian nodded, lowering her voice. “Yes. She’s told everyone she knows that he’s in various Asian countries. She’s faked phone calls with him. And it’s been going on for ten years, far as I can see. She admitted it to both of us on the boat. Said she killed him for um, having relations with a parlor maid.”

Detective Warren’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right?”

Cody wandered over to her side. “That’s what she told us today, Detective. It’s all in my statement.”

A shrill laugh came from Uvi, who tossed back her hair and glared under furrowed brows at Vivian.

The detective pursed his lips. “Let me have a word with Officer Pierce.” He nodded to the uniformed black woman who still sat with Uvi, scribbling on a pad. “We’ll compare notes and decide what to do next.”

“Detective,” Vivian said in a hushed whisper. “She threatened to kill us. And she nearly succeeded.”

He grunted and stood. “I heard you two the first time. But we may have to address her mental state, if you know what I mean.”

Officer Monroe, a rookie blond cop with a crew cut and washboard abs, had done a quick search of the house. He joined them. “You mean she might have to go to a psych ward?”

Detective Warren nodded. “It’s possible. From the way these folks described her behavior, she could be losing it. Stress, like this hurricane we just suffered through, can cause a lot of problems in people. Sometimes it really messes them up for a while.”

Cody knew the woman had gone off the deep end before trying to kill them, but she’d always seemed sane before that. Mean. Surly at times. But sane.

Maybe the hurricane had brought it out of her? She’d been worrying, wondering where Vivian and he were. She’d had no lights. Maybe she hadn’t eaten or slept much. It could have pushed her over the edge.

Then again, he thought. Maybe she’d been completely sane when she murdered her husband a decade ago.

The landline rang, and Vivian automatically reached for the heavy black relic on the side table. “Polansky Residence.”  

“Who is this?” an annoyed male voice asked.

Vivian replied. “I’m Miss Wood, Mrs. Polansky’s assistant.”

The stentorian voice sighed. “Of course you are. Well, Miss Wood, this is Jeremiah Polansky. Tell Uvi I want to speak to her.”

“Who?”

“Jeremiah Polansky. I own The Seacroft, inside whose hallowed walls you are now standing. Put my ex on the line, for Christ’s sake.”

Vivian dropped the phone, letting it dangle on its cord. She backed up to the wall.

Cody and the Detective rushed to her side.

“What is it, Miss Wood?”

“It’s, uh. It’s someone claiming to be Mr. Polansky.”

Cody blanched. “What? Whoa. Mr. P?”

Vivian nodded. “Yes. He wants to speak to Uvi.”



Cody watched Uvi take the phone.

She casually removed her right earring, then pressed the receiver to her ear. “Hello?” She smiled as if all were right with the world. She listened for a few minutes, and then backed away with a horrified expression, dropping the old fashioned receiver. It was as if every string of fiber holding her aloft was cut in one swift motion. She crumpled to the ground, her face a gray mask.

Cody picked up the phone.

“Hello? Mr. Polansky? This is Cody. I’m the grounds keeper. Your wife has taken a bad turn. Are you in the United States, by any chance?”

“My ex-wife,” he snorted derisively. “Am I in the US? Of course I am. I live in Boston, for crying out loud.”

“What?” Cody hesitated. “Er. Sorry, sir. She said you were traveling abroad, for business.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He sighed over the line. “I divorced that nut case ten years ago, boy. And she’s still making up stories about me?”

“I. Er. I guess so. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I just called to insist she stop telephoning in the middle of the night. I’m about to get a restraining order on her if she doesn’t stop. My wife is royally pissed.”

Cody regained control of himself. “I see.” He hesitated for a moment. “Uvi’s in trouble. She might need a lawyer.”

Mr. Polansky sighed. “Seriously? Now I have to pay her legal fees?”

“I’m not saying—”

“Damn her.” The man interrupted, growling his next words. “Not that I owe that bitch anything. She stays for free in that goddamned mausoleum… ” His voice trailed off. “What did she do? Is there someone in authority I can speak to?”

“Um. Yes, of course. Detective Warren’s here. I’ll let him explain it to you.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Here you go.” Cody handed the phone to Warren, unsure why he’d advocated for the woman who’d just tried to kill Vivian and him. He turned when Viv appeared at his elbow.

“He’s alive? Mr. P is alive?”

Cody shrugged and smiled. “So he says. Guess he divorced her ten years ago.”

“What?” Vivian frowned. “That’s when Uvi claims to have drowned him.”

“Who knows? She may have fantasized about killing him so often she finally believes it.” Cody slung an arm around her, moving her away from their employer who still lay slumped on the ground. “Maybe that was her way of dealing with the rejection.”

“You sound like a therapist, Cody.” She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. “But you could be right.”

Officer Pierce hunkered beside Uvi, helping her sit up. “Are you okay, Mrs. Polansky? Can I get you some water?”

Uvi smiled feebly. “Yes. Of course, I’m fine. I was just speaking to, ah, my husband. He’s on his way home. I need to make him a nice dinner.” She looked around wildly for a moment, taking in the sea of eyes watching her. “And now,” she stood with the woman’s help. “I just need to lie down for a moment. I’m feeling a bit wobbly. Would you mind escorting me to my room?”

Pierce shot a questioning glance at the detective. He nodded. “Okay for a few minutes. Take her upstairs, but keep a close eye on her.”

When Uvi and the policewoman began to ascend the stairs, the detective turned back to Cody and Vivian. “We are so short staffed right now. It’s putting a huge strain on the force. We’re still putting out virtual fires from the aftermath of Delilah. I’ve got people still being dug out of collapsed buildings, emergency power lines strung over mud holes a mile wide, hospital wards being set up in cafeterias… it’s a goddamned mess. I can’t go by our standard procedures here. Even our station house is shut down until they can confirm its stability. It got shaken up pretty badly by the tremors during the flood.” He swiped his hair back from his head. “Not that you need to know all this. Sorry. Regardless, this woman needs to be evaluated by a doctor in a safe place.” He opened his phone and scrolled through the contents. “Maybe I could get my old pal Doc Wheeler to stop over. He’s just a few streets down. If the hurricane didn’t get him, that is. Wheeler used to evaluate patients all the time for us, before the new doc took over.”

Cody and Vivian waited while Warren called the doctor, who apparently was available and willing to stop by. They watched Officer Pierce gently guide Uvi up the last few stairs to the landing.

“Now I feel sorry for her,” Vivian said.

Cody gave a low chuckle. “Me, too. Kinda. Especially since she’s not about to shoot my ass and drown me.”

Chapter 42

A half hour later, Viv heard the doorbell ring. From force of habit, she strode forward and opened it. A white-haired gentleman stood on the porch holding a beat-up leather satchel.

“Doctor Wheeler?”

“Yes,” he said in a smooth baritone voice. He held out a steady hand. “Pleased to meet you, young lady.”

“Thank you. You, too.” She shook his hand. “Please come in.”

With a nod to the detective, the doctor looked around. “So, where’s my patient?”

Detective Warren came closer, gesturing to the ceiling. “She’s upstairs, resting.”

“Uvi’s lost it,” Cody blurted out. “She tried to kill us, Doc. She held us at gunpoint. Was going to shoot us and throw us overboard out there.” He gestured toward the sea, his face graven. “And to tell you the truth, she almost got away with it.”

The doctor held up a hand. “I’ve heard the story, son. Warren here gave me the scoop. I’ll talk to her and give you my recommendation shortly.”

Vivian turned to the detective. “Shall I take him up?”

Detective Warren nodded. “Thanks. Officer Pierce is up there, too. She’ll stay with you while the Doc here questions Mrs. Polansky.”

Vivian had just started up the stairs when she heard a heavy thump overhead. Her brow furrowed, and she hurried up the stairs with the rest of the group close behind her. “Everything okay up here?” she called, expecting the policewoman to answer.

At the top of the landing, she saw a flash of white at the end of the hall, heading for the attic stairs. Skidding around the corner to Uvi’s bedroom, she found Officer Pierce lying on the floor next to a smashed lamp. “Detective Pierce? Oh, no. Doctor! Over here.”

Cody and the policemen arrived in the room seconds later. Monroe leaned down to check his partner, beckoning to the doctor who followed close behind. “She’s breathing.” He stepped aside to let Doc Wheeler bend over the unconscious woman.

Detective Warren swore and turned toward the hallway. “Where the hell did that woman go?”

Vivian pointed to the stairs, running beside him. “The attic. This way.”

They tromped up the narrow staircase, Vivian in the lead, but Warren closed in on her fast. “Move aside,” he said roughly, panting. “I need to go first.”