Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2 (14 page)

W
hile June continued
to give Eddie a piece of her mind, I stepped back over to the porthole with the view so I could get a look at Eddie as he explained his actions. The next time I heard Eddie’s voice, he didn’t sound anything like the ingratiating, overzealous nitwit we had come to know but not to love.

“Listen, June. This is not a game. This is not a drama exercise. This is life and death, and you need to listen carefully.”

Even though I was five feet away, I had no trouble hearing every word he said. But in contrast to his new, commanding voice, he was shifting from foot to foot and looking right to left and over his shoulder, clearly uncomfortable and agitated.

June wasn’t buying it just yet. She cut him off before he could say anything else. “Eddie, you little sneak, you better tell us what’s really going on, and be quick about it.”

Still observing Eddie through the porthole, I knew the exact moment he spotted the
Devil Chaser
. He froze in place and stared right at the boat. June held the receiver at arm’s length because the volume of Sneed’s voice was off the charts. I had no trouble hearing his next questions.

“You’re onboard the DeVille’s sailboat aren’t you? Are you nuts? Do you have a death wish?”

June did not reply. I was wondering who the real Eddie Sneed was. Was he the annoying but harmless interloper from the convention? Or the manipulating force behind the accident at the beach office? Was he a klepto-clown trying to untangle his association with a blackmailer? Or maybe, like us, he had found himself in way over his head. Perhaps he was trying to unravel the mysteries and prove himself a worthy sleuth, but instead became another victim of something much bigger and sinister than any of us had imagined.

June covered the mouthpiece of the sat-phone and whispered, “What should I tell him? I think he knows we’re on the boat.”

Before either of us had a chance to come up with a good response, Eddie’s voice got deathly serious. In a low, measured tone, unlike anything we ever expected to come from him, he continued. “June, you and Francie need to stay where you are. I’ll figure out a way to get you ashore before you both end up getting killed.”

I had to get right next to June and put my ear up to the receiver to hear what he said next.

“Listen to me. It’s not safe for you to stay on board that boat. I’m sorry if I’m scaring you, but seriously, you should be afraid. Now just stay put. Don’t do anything to give away the fact that you’re on this island. You do not want these people to know you’re here, if you ever want to get back to your families and your normal lives.”

The line went dead. The connection was lost.

“Is he for real? What’s going on here?” June said out loud exactly what I was thinking.

June hung up the phone and plunked down on the nearest chair. “I’m sorry, Francie. This was probably a terrible idea.”

“It’s too late for that kind of talk,” I replied, even though in my mind I had to agree with her. “Let’s focus on what we need to do right now. Do you think he’s telling the truth about us being in danger?”

“I think he actually does like us, maybe even a little too much or in a weird sort of way. I’m feeling like we should trust him for now.”

I agreed with June and went back to look out the window. June joined me, and we both pressed our noses against the glass to watch Eddie walk back over to the guard. He was gesticulating in the direction of the main building. The guard looked irritated, but he left his post and headed up the slope to the white building at the top of the hill, glancing over his shoulder at Eddie, who was standing in the spot the guard had just vacated, presumably taking over his post for the time being. As soon as the guard was out of sight, Eddie ran straight for the docked sailboat.

Eddie slapped the hull of the boat to get our attention. I poked my head out of the cabin and heard his hoarse whisper. “Girls, you can come out now, but lay low and don’t say anything.”

We did as we were told. He directed us to keep our mouths shut and follow him. I stayed right where I was for a moment, scrutinizing Eddie from head to toe. I needed to make one hundred percent sure it really was him before putting my life in his hands. I concluded that it would be nearly impossible to impersonate this skinny, five-foot-five guy with a bad toupee and a knack for choosing the most horrible wardrobe combinations known to man. And then there were his voice and mannerisms, which even the best actor would be hard-pressed to imitate to the degree of accuracy necessary to fool my trained eye. Yep, to the best of my knowledge, it was indeed Mr. Eddie Sneed who now stood before us and was about to give us orders. What other choice did we have? We closed the cabin door and followed him off the boat, down the dock, and up a path leading in the opposite direction from the one the guard had taken.

We walked in silence for about a half mile on an overgrown path until Eddie stopped in front of a low, cement-block building similar in appearance to the employee dormitories back on Devil’s Island. Definitely not one of the attractions listed on our all-access VIP passes. To make matters infinitely worse, the ugly building was surrounded by cottonwood trees.

Eddie put his index finger to his lips and brought us around to the back entrance where, about ten feet from the door, a rickety, rusty, metal staircase led up to an equally unsafe-looking balcony that ran the entire length of the second story. Without a word, he gave us a signal to follow him, and up we went. At least the building didn’t have eight stories.

Once on the balcony, Eddie pulled a key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock and slipped inside. Again, we followed.

We found ourselves in a musty-smelling room with one grimy window. I spied the tops of cottonwood trees through the lifeless, threadbare curtains.

I figured it was okay to speak at this point. Standing with my feet firmly planted and my hands on my hips, I cleared my throat and mustered up my best teacher voice. “Eddie, you need to quit stringing us along and explain what is going on here.” Then I waited.

“All I can say right now is that your snooping is liable to get us all killed. Why did you come here in the first place? It was obvious you weren’t all that concerned about my whereabouts or safety.”

The guilt trip he was laying on us was working. I remembered being glad Eddie hadn’t shown up at the theater and angry when we saw him at Bob’s house. There was concern for his well-being when he disappeared from the fun house, but the main reason we were here was to find out how he fit into all the weird stuff going on and to get some answers. I was tired of being interrogated by the police about events to which I had no connection other than being in the wrong place at the right time.

There would be no satisfactory explanation from Eddie, at least not yet. What he did was give us more orders. “Stay right here until I come back for you. There’s a slim chance I can get you off the island safely. I repeat, stay here. Trying to leave will only end badly. The people here are not open to visitors, especially Nosy Nancies. I’m serious. Now, promise you’ll just stay put. You will stay, won’t you? You know I’m trying to help, right?”

Eddie was regressing back to his old annoying self. It was comforting in an odd way. He continued his running monologue as he backed from the center of the room toward the door. Before either June or I realized what was happening, he was pulling the door shut behind him. When we heard the
click-thunk
of the lock, we realized he’d gotten the better of us.

“Wait a minute,” I said as June sprinted to the door, twisting and jangling the knob in a futile attempt to get it to turn. “What kind of dormitory has rooms that lock from the outside?”

“This kind, apparently,” June snapped.

We were both embarrassed and more than a little angry at ourselves for being duped by such an unworthy adversary, so I let her curt reply go.

“Focus. We need to focus and prioritize. What is our goal? What are our options?”

“Seriously, Francie? You sound like a life coach, not someone tricked by an oversized rodent and trapped in a cement cell on an island run by criminals.”

“We don’t know that for a fact. All we know is that Eddie is being his overdramatic self. He probably wants to prove to us that he’s a hero and can save the damsels in distress.”

“Namely us.”

“Well, let’s not sit around moaning about it. We need to come up with a way out of here.”

“You’re right. What about the window? I think I can reach it if I pull that desk chair over.”

It didn’t take long for June to determine that opening the window wouldn’t be an option. The grime on the glass camouflaged a diamond pattern of steel wire embedded between two panes of glass, most likely shatterproof, at that. From my spot on the narrow bed, it was plain to see there were no other exit options. The only other furniture in the room was a cheap metal desk and an old wooden dresser with a murky mirror hung above it. The rest of the room’s space was comprised of a dinky closet and a windowless bathroom of about the same size. Since it didn’t look like we’d be leaving on our own any time soon, we decided to examine the contents of the room. Maybe we could uncover some clues as to who lived here or what kind of a dormitory this was. I started with the bathroom; June took on the dresser and desk. Opening the medicine cabinet, I found a bottle of generic aspirin, some contact lens solution, and a lonely tube of lip gloss. Nothing behind the toilet or in the tank. A rock-hard bar of Ivory soap in the shower. Not even a bottle of shampoo or conditioner. Either the resident was bald, or this was a bare-bones, essentials-only room. Boot camp? Reformatory? Prison? None of these thoughts gave me the least bit of comfort.

June had more area to cover, so she was still busy opening drawers when I stepped back into the room. She glanced over her shoulder at me and nodded toward the bed. “Over there. That’s what I’ve come up with so far.”

“Not much, I see. I didn’t find anything in the bathroom to indicate whose room this is. No prescriptions, but we do know the occupant wears contact lenses.”

“And it’s a girl, based on the clothes in the drawers. Nothing to give away any sense of her style, although she must be petite. The few things she has are all extra-small. There are a few flashier outfits that look more like costumes in the back of the closet. They’re probably from the previous tenant though. They appear to be too big to fit whoever rooms here now.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the pathetic collection of personal belongings June had gathered so far: a pair of tortoise-frame eyeglasses, an employee name tag, engraved with
Sofia,
like the standard-issue ones worn by all the employees at Devil’s Island, and a photo in a black, wooden frame. Two girls, their arms around each other’s tiny waists, beamed for the photographer. I recognized the girl on the left right away. I’d seen her enough times since our arrival at the convention. The girl on the right was almost a mirror image of Sasha, except she looked to be a little younger, with dark hair and piercing green eyes. And now we knew her name was Sofia.

The rest of our search uncovered nothing more of interest. We didn’t find a secret passage in the back of the closet leading to an enchanted world or a keypad with a code to spring the door open. No phone numbers, no address book, just the photo and the name tag.

You never realize how long an hour really is until you’re forced to remain in a place with nothing to do except tick off the passing minutes. June and I had exhausted all the possibilities we could think of, and were starting to give in to a sense of resignation regarding whatever might be in store for us, when a rustling on the other side of the door got our attention. Someone fumbled with a key in the lock and then the door creaked open. Before I could think of an appropriate insult to hurl at Eddie, Sasha’s sister, Sofia, let out a scream, dropped the bag she was holding, and bolted out of the room, down the stairs and away from the building. It must be a genetic thing or, more likely, a response to living in fear. June had the good sense to dive for the door, managing to catch it with her shoulder seconds before it could imprison us for a second time. I scooped up our meager evidence along with June’s phone and tossed it all into my handbag before heading out behind my friend.

N
ow that we
were finally outside, we had a few things to figure out. Were we under surveillance? How could we safely get off the island? What was Eddie up to? And finally, what should we do about Sofia?

First things first. “Ahchoo!” That set off a sneezing fit that brought tears to my eyes and a look of horror to June’s. When I could finally breathe normally again, the first thing I did was to curse the very existence of cottonwood trees. They were determined to kill me one way or another.

“Well, Francie, you already answered two of our questions.”

“Huh?” Sniffle, sniffle.

“Well, first of all, we must be alone because your honking and wheezing would have brought out the cavalry in no time; and second, I doubt there are surveillance cameras out here among the trees. It’s pretty isolated from the looks of things—nothing much of interest to keep tabs on other than the dorm building, and the locked doors do a pretty good job of that.”

“Well, you’re welcome then.” I sniffled again, having nothing of substance to use for wiping my poor nose.

“We can’t stand around waiting for Eddie to return, especially since we can’t even be sure of his intentions. I know you want to trust him, but I’m having a hard time with that idea.”

“I don’t like it either, but I find it more reassuring than the thought of him somehow being involved in illegal activities and trying to draw us into his game. I agree, though, that we need to take some action. Let’s go see if we can get close enough to the big house on the hill to see what’s going on.”

We stuck to the path for a short time, but we didn’t want to end up back at the boat dock, so we headed into the brush, trying to keep to the more wooded areas and walking uphill until we got a glimpse of the big white house. I half expected to see it surrounded by armed guards like you see on TV, but that wasn’t the case. Come to think of it, we were on a well-protected private island, inhabited by private club members who probably felt pretty secure against the threat of uninvited trespassers. And yet, here we were.

We kept our distance from the imposing house and kept ourselves pretty well hidden, for the most part, thanks to the tall hedge of evergreens surrounding the yard, the wooded area beyond the main grounds, and the fact that dusk had settled in over the island, creating lots of interesting shadows to provide additional coverage. After circling the property and determining it would be possible to approach it from the side where the garage was located, we decided we needed to get a closer look at who was inside and what, if anything, was going on. Through a low window on the back side, we could see the glow of a light between the slats of window blinds that ended about a half inch shy of the windowsill. We agreed that this would be our destination.

“What do you see? What’s going on in there?”

I had to shush June with a finger to my lips. There was only room for one snoop under the window, and this time it was me. I remained motionless, even holding my breath, so as not to give our presence away. The room I was looking into was an office or study. Three highly polished tables were positioned around the room. A man with jet-black hair and olive-colored skin sat at the one closest to the window, just off to my left, concentrating on the task before him. On the table, there was a satchel that looked much like the one Angelina had brought with her onto her sailboat. The man reached in the bag and drew out a stack of neatly wrapped cash. He laid it on the table in line with a row of stacked and bundled bills exactly like it.

He paid no attention to the other activities going on around him. At a second table, directly in my line of sight, there were four equally menacing-looking men engrossed in a card game that I was pretty sure was not Old Maid or Go Fish. The third and final table was occupied by a pair of younger men, probably in their thirties but no less intimidating in their dark suits. These two were looking through a collection of papers that from my vantage point looked like photographs and spec sheets. Six young girls, late teens to early twenties, stood against the wall behind the card-playing group. They did not look happy to be there. They did not speak, and none of the men spoke to them.

June was tugging at the hem of my pants, which by now looked nothing like the crisp, summery, white linen slacks I’d put on after our spa visit. I waved her off, but she was not going to sit idly by while I got all the intel. She tugged again.

When I had committed the scene to memory, I moved away from the window and around the corner. June followed and we both scooted ourselves down onto the grass with our backs against the windowless garage. “What’s going on in there? Did you recognize anyone?”

I recounted everything I saw in detail. June’s eyebrows came together as she thought about what I had just told her. “We can’t really come to any definite conclusions based on that, but it doesn’t sound like they were planning a holiday barbecue. Let’s go around to the back of the house and see if we can find out anything else. And this time, you get to be the lookout and I will be the look-in.”

Since we were right up against the house now, it was easier to make our way around to the back yard—easier logistically, that is, not physically. I was racking up some major activity points moving around the house in a deep squat. My thighs would be screaming in the morning. When we reached another window with a view into a dimly lit room, we made sure we could peek in without being seen and then June had her turn. After a minute, she stepped away from her post. The first things I noticed were her pale face and worried expression. “What did you see, June? Were there more girls in there?”

“Oh yes. There are more girls. Four of them, and they aren’t dressed as waitresses or house maids. In fact, they’re barely dressed at all.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“They were lined up against the wall. There are four men in there too. Three of them looked like they were arguing or bidding on the girls. The fourth guy grabbed one of the girls by the hand and dragged her over to a flight of stairs.”

“I don’t believe this, June. Move. I want to see for myself.” Of course I knew she wouldn’t lie to me, but what she was describing was just too awful to be true.

Soon, I abandoned my post at the window, lowering myself to the grass. I was numb with disbelief and didn’t even bother to turn away from the wall. “I think they’re selling girls in there. It looked like the other two men were bidding again, and the winner disappeared upstairs with another one of the girls. The last guy wandered off looking deflated. Ugh. This is disgusting. Do things like this really happen right here, practically in our own backyard?”

June sat beside me. What a sight we must have been—two women sitting in the grass facing the house. “I don’t know. Everyone assumes that sex trafficking rings only exist in major cities or third world countries, but if the mob really does occupy this island, then I’m sure nothing is out of the realm of possibility.”

I slumped even lower, the weight of what I had just witnessed acting like a heavy anchor on my heart. “We have to find a way off this island so we can tell Detective Reed what’s going on. Do you think Bob found out about this and threatened to expose the operation? Do you think that’s why he was killed?”

“I don’t know, Francie. It’s possible, but we can’t prove anything, and unless we can sprout wings or grow some gills, how are we going to escape from this island? Do you have any more tricks up your sleeve or, more accurately, in your bag?”

I rummaged through the depths of my handbag, pulling out three different shades of lip gloss, two empty bottles of hand sanitizer, a book of matches from the Cheesecake Factory, and a month-old IOU for a kayak rental. So far nothing looked promising. Before I could continue my scavenger hunt, a shadow obliterated the last anemic ray of sun that illuminated our hiding spot. I looked up to locate the source of the unexpected blackout, but before I had the chance to scream, a clammy hand smelling faintly of salami and garlic clamped over my mouth. June was being silenced by Eddie Sneed’s other palm.