Authors: Deborah Brown
I put it in my sweat pants pocket and returned to the patio. Will stepped out from behind a tree, and stood staring at me. Pure fear shot through me. “What are you doing here?” I squeaked, trying to stay calm.
“Happy to see me?” he said with pure hate written on his face.
I turned to run, but he grabbed me by the back of my hair and my phone fell out of my pocket. He jerked me around to face him, his fingers digging painfully into my arm. “What do you want?”
“Plenty,” he shouted, shaking me hard. “You’re going to give me everything I want, you bitch,” he growled.
I kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. When he yelled and stumbled, I jerked away and raced toward the house.
“You
will
do what I say,” he threatened before I heard a sizzle sound. Everything went black.
* * *
When I opened my eyes, darkness surrounded me. I lay curled in a fetal position, my body needled with pinprick sensations. It dawned on me that I was locked in the trunk of a moving car. Trapped in such an enclosed space, I told myself to breathe shallowly, before panic set in.
The last thing I remembered was trying to escape from Will while he yelled about wanting something. I didn’t remember him putting me in the trunk. Why was he doing this? The car made a sharp turn onto a bumpy road, throwing me abruptly from side to side.
The car jerked to a stop, and I hit my head. The engine cut off, a door slammed, and the trunk opened. Will stood over me.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” he laughed, sounding deranged.
His eyes were black pin dots, looking like a rodent on crack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just let me go.”
“Shut up.” He grabbed my arms, and dragged me out of the trunk, dumping me on the ground.
Tall grass grew out of murky water, and it was eerily quiet except for the loud chirping of the cicadas. Thousands of mosquitoes were swarming, a clear sign of mating season. We’d come in via a single lane of dirt and rock through thick overgrowth. There was no doubt we were in the Everglades.
“This isn’t your aunt’s place, but you’re getting better than you deserve,” Will said.
“Where are we?” I asked. We stood in front of a run down, rusty singlewide, on the verge of falling apart.
“Welcome home,” Will laughed. “Stop asking questions.” He grabbed my arm, pushed me up the stairs, and onto the rotted porch. “Get in.”
I had no intention of going inside. I wrestled away, jumped off the steps and picked myself up. Then once again, I fell, then felt nothing.
* * *
I was lying on a dirty mattress; the room was dark and smelled like dirt and mold. A tiny sliver of sunlight shone through a hole in the sheet covering the window. When I tried to sit up, I was disoriented and the pinpricking sweating sensation returned. My stomach was rolling and churning and it tool all of my concentration to not throw up..
How would I escape? Even if I managed to get outside, finding my way out of the Everglades would be next to impossible. I didn’t want to have to choose between Will killing me, or being eaten by an alligator.
Will kicked opened the bedroom door. “Don’t you just love a stun gun?”
“I feel sick,” I whispered, head down. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
He pulled it from his pocket and stroked it as though it were a lover. “Makes a person do what you want them to do.” His smile was evil.
I felt weak all over. “I’m going to throw up.”
He kicked a filthy trashcan, complete with dead palmetto bugs in the bottom, toward the bed. I threw up several times before he jerked me to my feet. I swayed unsteadily my body scrambled from the gun. Live palmetto bugs, Florida’s version of the cockroach – plus they could fly – scurried into the corners and I screamed.
He slapped me hard. “Shut up. Nobody can hear you anyway.” His face full of rage, he pushed me back on the bed.
Fear – gut wrenching, cold fear – went quaking through me. Getting out of the Everglades would be impossible unless I had help. I was under the control of a lunatic.
“Get off the bed.” He grabbed me, dragging me out to the living room, and threw me on the couch.
“If you make another attempt to run off, I’ll shoot your foot off,” he threatened with the real thing. He pulled a handgun from his waistband.
“I won’t try to get away,” I cried, holding my cheek while tears rolled down my face.
He grabbed me by my hair and shook me back and forth. “This is all your fault,” he screamed. He slapped me a couple of more times with his open hand, and then hit me with his fist. I rolled away and curled up into a ball.
“Stop!” I cried. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
He put his face to mine, nose-to-nose. “You bet you will,” he snarled. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do. When I say jump you’d better start jumping. Got it?”
I blew my nose in my shirt.
“How’d you figure out my real name, and turn me into the cops?” he yelled.
“I didn’t tell anyone anything. Dee Burke is the one who had you investigated and made the call that got you arrested.”
“How do you know?”
“She called me the day the sheriff picked you up, to inform me they were on their way. She was more interested in letting me know Mr. Patrick intended to put me in a jail cell alongside you. Your real estate deal is dead. Mr. Patrick cancelled it.”
“How in the hell did she find anything out?”
“Apparently, you sat around the pool talking one day and you let a few things slip which she remembered as being inconsistent with your application.”
“I don’t believe you,” he sneered. “I’ve told the same lie so many times I’d never screw up.”
“When did you get out of jail?”
“Checked myself out yesterday,” he snickered.
“What does that mean?”
“You’re a stupid bitch. The jail staff messed up. I was scheduled for video court, and instead they put me on the bus for a personal appearance. I slipped out of custody at the courthouse when the guards had their backs turned.”
“The police will turn the city upside down looking for you.”
“You think that means someone will be coming to your rescue? No one,” he emphasized, “is going to find you out here except the alligators.”
“What do you want?”
“Money and lots of it.”
I wasn’t going to tell him I didn’t have
lots of
money. The omission would be my ticket out of here. “How much?”
“One million.”
“Dollars?” I said.
“Funny. You want to live? You cost me three mil from the deal. One million is a bargain.” He pulled a pint of spicy dark rum out of his pocket and downed more than half in one swallow.
For now, I needed him to believe I had the money and that he needed me alive to get his hands on it. “I’ll make arrangements with my accountant.”
“You dumb bitch. What’s your plan, to demand a suitcase full of cash? Like that wouldn’t attract attention. Or is that how you plan to get away?”
“I said you can have the money.”
“Every detail has been planned, and you’re only on a need-to-know basis. You don’t get out alive if I don’t get the cash,” he said, spitting on me.
I’d never realized it was possible to be so scared. My face throbbed with severe pain.
“You’re a clueless piece. You know how many people were lined up to take advantage of you?” He downed the rest of his rum and threw the bottle across the room, sending glass flying.
“What are you talking about?”
“News flash. Tucker knew about my scam, and he didn’t give a shit. He figured the worst I could do was create a legal nightmare, and he’d ride in and talk you into selling to end all your troubles. He’s partners in a real estate development company, and they need The Cottages for a big project they have in the works – shopping mall and condos.”
I massaged my face, trying to digest the news and alleviate the pain.
“Connor Manning is his partner,” he continued. “His bright idea was to force a shotgun wedding on you, giving him control. Even though he found you ‘totally boring and uninteresting’, his exact words, by the way, both he and Tucker would do whatever they had to, to get their hands on your property.”
“All this for one piece of property?”
“Manning’s a total jerk, and I knew he didn’t stand a chance, but he planned to continue pursuing you even though your date sucked. Until some big ugly guy, Scarface he called him, paid him a visit, and threatened to kill him if he ever breathed the same air as you,” Will laughed. “Connor said the guy scared him so bad he peed himself.” Will laughed even harder.
Will pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lit up and blew a smoke ring in my face. “Tucker didn’t care what I was up to cause he figured my plan was going nowhere. He’d pretty much dismissed me as a stupid ass, but I knew too much and now he was forced to deal with me. You know the old line ‘keep your enemies close’? He went ballistic when he found out the deal was done and ready to close. Just my luck that the title company I chose had connections to Tucker. Once I opened the file at the title company, Chandi-the-closer got hot on the phone and informed him. Then he tells me to back off, and I’d get my money at the conclusion of the deal.”
“I agreed to it, wanted to appear to be a team player. If I didn’t, I knew I’d end up disappearing. I managed to convince Tucker that I cancelled the closing, and then went ahead with my plans behind his back. Tucker didn’t have a clue. I bribed another closer at the title company to keep her mouth shut. By the time he found out anything, I’d have sold the property out from under you both, and been long gone. The two of you would be fighting in court for a long time and I’d be happy and comfortable.”
He stomped on what was left of his cigarette, throwing it at me. I jumped back, a couch spring popped loose, and hit me hard in the butt.
“Here’s a good one. Elizabeth never even
named
Tucker executor. She only hired him to draw up her will. After she died, he changed the will appointing himself executor. I took the original, so that’s my leverage over that fool,” Will scoffed, reaching for another cigarette.
Not another cigarette
. There was so little air in here already.
“I ransacked the old bitch’s house the morning before you arrived. His days of ignoring me were over, because I now had the ammunition to blow his ass out of the water. I’m smart enough to figure out he’d never give me a dime. He’d get rid of me somehow.”
“Boy was he pissed when he discovered your name was on the title to the Cove Road house. He wanted that house bad, and all Elizabeth’s possessions. He figured he could go anytime and get what he wanted. His mistake was thinking it was all his before he had the legal right. He’s consumed by everything that belonged to your aunt. When you turn up dead, it’ll all be his. The big prize is The Cottages. You were never going to get control.”
“I picked the lock on your aunt’s safe. Nothing there but her will and some cash. Then the will ended up being a big score for me. Who knew the damn thing would give me power? I searched her bedroom too, went through her granny panties and decided she was too cheap to buy any jewelry.”
He continued, pleased with the story. “Tucker dismissed you before he even met you. You were a puppet with Tucker pulling the strings. After I met you, I realized that controlling you wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. We sat around in his office one afternoon, tossing around ways to get rid of you, and decided if it came to that, there’d be a convenient accident involving your old lady and bro, too. All three of you dying together would remove all the obstacles.”
If I had Zach’s Glock, I’d have pulled the trigger without a second thought, murder or no, blowing that stupid smile off his face. Did Zack know I was missing? Would he be able to find me? I bought time. “What were you doing last night?”
“Yeah, that was me,” he gloated. “I wanted to run you off the road, and grab your ass then. You’re a better driver than I thought you’d be. Plus you got the sheriff to come out in record time.”
“What about Forrest?”
“That old whore. He got away. He’s got a woman out by the dog track.” He shook his head. “No one else would help him. I’m not worried. When I get the money, one call and he’ll go wherever I tell him.”
I wanted to keep him talking, to get as much information as I could in case I got out of here. “Why did you tell Detective Harder I killed the guy in Cottage Nine? You and I know I didn’t do it. Did you kill him?”
“Oscar Wyatt, the stupid fuck, was trying to blackmail me,” he snarled. “I gave him money once, and he came back for more. That’s the problem paying a blackmailer. They don’t know when to quit.”
“Forrest is to blame for Oscar. He likes to go out, get drunk, and run his mouth. I wasn’t paying close enough attention, and the two of them got too chummy. I didn’t expect fidelity from Forrest, but I do expect him to keep his mouth shut. He told Oscar about our scam, and then came the demands for money. So I had to punish Forrest. I needed him under control and not out causing trouble. The one time I let him briefly off his short leash, he blew it. The dumbass.”
He reached into a backpack and produced another bottle of rum, taking a healthy swig. “Blaming you for the murder was fun,” he sneered, as he pointed at me with the bottle. “Harder already hated you because of your boyfriend. He was just looking for an excuse to dick you around. Too bad you had an alibi. Even I would’ve gotten a boner watching you being cuffed and taken to jail. The last obstacle on my way to payday.”
“What about Gavin Patrick? Did you have feelings for him?” I felt awful for a man whom I never met; that he’d been jerked around emotionally by this piece of crap.
“Are you out of your mind?” Will asked. “Gavin had no chance with a man like me. He was a tool. I made him fall in love with me, and then used him. He deserved everything he got. He needs to learn to be realistic.”
It sickened me he had no remorse for taking advantage of a man in a wheelchair. Poor Mr. Patrick, he’s much better off without Will Todd in his life. “I need some water.” My throat was feeling scratchy and dry, making it difficult to swallow.