78 Keys (14 page)

Washington State ferries were built as a series of decks. Each deck sat atop the other and diminished in size the higher the deck, like a cigar-shaped wedding cake. The bottom two decks held vehicles that varied in size from semi-truck to bicycles. The bicycles and motorcycles rode at the very front on the lowest deck. It was a wonderful view from there but usually too windy and frigid for anyone to stay there long.

Above the two vehicle decks were the two decks where passengers lounged after leaving their cars. There was always a cafeteria or food vending area on one of those decks. They also held the restrooms and outdoor promenades where people enjoyed the fresh air. A semi-protected smoking area allowed smokers to, theoretically, avoid offending the clean-air breathers.

Laura and I attempted to act casually. Never mind that she looked like a war casualty and I had a tire iron stiffening my left arm. In fact, we were so noticeable that all the passengers pretended they weren’t staring at us. We edged into one of the empty booths that lined the outside walls of the largest passenger cabin and sat opposite each other.

“See him?” I asked in a lowered voice.

“Not yet, but everyone else sees us. That can’t be good,” Laura said mimicking my voice level. She rested her casted wrist on the table in front of us. I noticed her thumb had lost most of its swelling.

“If they can see us, they can see him. We’re safe right here. Let’s wait a little longer until we’re closer to the Islands. It’s a short ride.” I had no idea why I suggested that and apparently, Laura didn’t either.

“I don’t think I can wait.” She was almost whispering now. “I’ll go crazy if we do. Let’s just take a moment and think over our plan again, see if it still holds. Okay?”

I nodded and thought about the plan while scanning the room. We no longer interested anybody. Everyone was busy fiddling with phones and cameras. One boothful of passengers had a deck of cards and cribbage board. A few booths were occupied by twentysomethings with their backpacks. Their tanned, strong bodies nestled down for naps because gorgeous scenery meant nothing at their age. Getting to the destination while listening to their entire music library was their goal.

Just as I was convinced that nobody was paying attention to us, I saw him. He had positioned himself toward the front of the ferry, his back toward us. Like other passengers, he was occupied with what looked like a cell phone. He was a walking cliché. His bulk filled the army green T-shirt so that the sleeves wrapped tightly around his solid biceps. He even had camouflage fatigues of the desert variety. His head was shaved, except a two-inch band down the center where a fuzz of blond was allowed to sprout.

I was sure anyone who noticed him thought he was a soldier on leave from one of the Middle East entanglements. For all they knew, he was a hero. That bought him clueless allies. We really did need to isolate him.

“He’s behind you, Laura. Don’t turn around. Just look out the window for a while and wait for the rest of the passengers to empty their bladders. He’s playing with his cell phone. At least I hope that’s what it is. Let’s pray he won’t detonate something even though he’s on this boat. I don’t think he’s the martyr brigade type.”

Laura’s eyes widened. She started to touch the bandage on her cheek but stopped herself. “What makes you think he won’t destroy all of us for his cause, whatever that is?”

“Two reasons. First, I suspect he’s too valuable to his handlers. He’s their golem, the monster they’ve created. Second, he wouldn’t spend all those hours in the gym only to spatter his rock hard abs over the Strait of Juan de Fuca.”

“Glad you feel so sure, but I don’t. Plus, he probably isn’t working alone. Where are the others? And there is one more thing I wanted to tell you. I think my pill popping is making my memory sluggish, but it started working as we climbed the stairs a few minutes ago. I think I know who that guy is. I just need to take one more glance at him to be sure. What’s he doing now?” She sat up a little straighter.

“Looks like he’s texting, not sure. I think you can look now. I’ll count to three. Ready?” She nodded and I began counting. “One, two…not now. He’s looking up.” I closed my eyes as if dozing. The rumble from the ferry engines and the murmurs from other passengers were so mundane that, with my eyes closed, I could almost believe the world was normal again. When I opened my eyes, he was gone. “Shit. Laura, he’s gone. We need to move. Now.”

“Okay.” She was taking deep breaths, cradling her broken wrist, and looking in my eyes. “We follow the plan?”

“Yeah, we follow the plan. Ready? Go.”

I watched as she stood and said in a clear voice, “I need to go to the bathroom. Could you get me a cup of coffee?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you back here. Cream or sugar?”

She looked at me like I’d lost my mind, then said, “Cream,” and marched toward the restrooms.

I waited exactly one minute, then made my way to the cafeteria. The tire iron in my sleeve made me look disabled; I was sure of that. Using only my right hand, I poured the largest cup of steaming coffee that they sold from the dispenser. I skipped the cream and waited in an excruciating line before I paid for it without waiting for change. I walked toward the entrance to the women’s bathroom. It had been about four and a half minutes since Laura and I split up.

When I paused outside the bathroom, I worked the tire iron into my pants so it stuck out of my waistband. I prayed it wouldn’t fall down my pant leg before I had a chance to clobber someone. After I removed the lid to the coffee, I slid into the bathroom entrance grateful there was no heavy door to push open. A stall door banged so hard the wall shook. Turning the corner, I was faced with our stalker holding a knife under Laura’s throat. She was bleeding where the blade touched her throat. Her terror-drenched eyes met mine in the mirror. The back of his neck was at least seven inches in diameter. A swastika tattoo peeked from under his T-shirt collar and was within my reach.

“What’s up?” I tried to sound clueless. Before he could move, I pulled open the back of his T-shirt and poured the blazing-hot coffee down his bare back.

He barked once and threw Laura against the sink. The sight of her blood on the porcelain was all I needed. I jerked the tire iron out of my pants just as he turned to face me. I swung the tire iron at the brute. My blow glanced off his forehead. Enraged, he stepped toward me but didn’t see the puddle of coffee on the floor. He lost his footing and crashed forward. While he was on his knees, I hit him again on the back of his muscle-dense neck. He wasn’t out, but he was down.

I jerked the lever on the paper towel dispenser and ripped off a few lengths of towel. I handed the towel to Laura, grabbed her upper arm, and pulled her toward the bathroom door. “Cover your neck,” I said. Then I went back and hit the back of the brute’s head. The splat sound it made was revolting. I almost dropped the tire iron but remembered to hang on to it. I pushed it back into my pants, blood and all, and pulled my shirt over it.

“I’m bleeding,” she gasped.

“I know. Let’s get downstairs.” I grabbed her purse off the floor. If she was walking, she was okay enough to get somewhere away from the wheezing assailant and all that blood collecting around his head. When we left the room, I vaguely noted the blended smell of blood and coffee and thought what a rare mixture that was.

There was no way Laura’s color could have gotten whiter. Luckily, the restroom was located a few feet from the stairs that led to the car decks. We passed one startled mom and her kid on their way to the bathroom.

“They’re out of order,” I said to them. “Use the one on the other side.” I hoped she didn’t hear the hysteria in my voice. I also hoped she didn’t know that there was no women’s restroom on the other side. I just wanted them away from the danger and mess on that bathroom floor.

We stumbled down the stairs but stopped at the upper car deck. It was a ferry mezzanine harboring only cars. It overlooked the lower deck of vehicles that included cars, trucks of all sizes, and towed vehicles. My car was on the lower deck sandwiched between a pickup truck and an SUV towing a small speedboat. We could see the faint reflection off the sunroof of my car. From our vantage point, nobody was near it. In fact, there were no people moving on any of the upper or lower car decks. Either the passengers were enjoying ferry amenities, or they had stayed in their vehicles for privacy.

“Is it safe to go back to your car?” Laura was talking just loud enough for me to hear her over the engine rumble and blasting sea wind. Her hair was batting into my face, and I noticed that some of it was bloodied. I felt my cheek to find it was wet with Laura’s blood.

“It’s not safe anywhere on this boat. Let me look at your neck.” I peeled the paper towel away from her throat and inspected the cut. “It’s not that bad, really. It’s already coagulating. We probably should get a bandage on it just to keep you from looking like you’ve been in a slasher film.”

“I am in a slasher film. I…I don’t think…” She started choking sobs.

“Hey, hey, now’s not the time. I promise you can melt down all you want later. For now, we need to hide out and get ourselves to Tranquility.” I was cupping her uninjured cheek. She looked into my eyes and I could physically sense her trust. I felt like a major
schlamozel
, a luckless loser. She was the most captivating woman I’d ever met, and it was my fate that she was my client’s target.

“That guy wasn’t dead, Dev. He’s either going to blow the whistle on us or come after us, with vengeance as an added motive.” She leaned her head into my hand.

“For the moment, he won’t bother us. He’s hurt and he’s in a women’s bathroom. The ferry personnel may suspect him of some perverted foul play. At least that’s what I hope.” I turned and peered at my car. He would look for us there if he were able-bodied, but we needed that car.

My watch read 1:05 p.m. We’d be at the Lopez dock in fifteen minutes. I glanced at Laura and found her slumping over the railing. She needed rest and probably something for pain.

“It won’t be long now, Laura. Can you make it down one more flight of stairs?”

She nodded, and I wrapped my arm around her waist. “Just lean into me. I’ll give you support. When we get to the bottom of the steps, wait while I check things at the car. If he comes down the stairs, start screaming and get to the car as fast as you can.” She was swaying against and away from me. I had to get her to a safe location.

We tottered down the last flight of stairs. “Hold on to this railing, Laura. Wait here. I’ll be right back to get you. Don’t step onto the car deck until I come to get you or unless he comes after you. Okay?” I left without looking back because I was not willing to see fear etched on her face. There was part of me that was laughing at Dev Rosten pretending to be brave, and another part of me was, in reality, fearless. I didn’t need the fearless me derailed by Laura’s terror.

Crouching low enough to keep my head below car roofs, I inched my way toward my car. It was parked two rows over and about six cars back. I peeked through car and truck windows looking for anyone tampering with my Lexus. Nobody was near the car as far as I could tell. I wended my way back to Laura.

We shuffled to the car. Just as we got there, the loudspeaker proclaimed we were docking on Lopez Island. “All passengers with Lopez Island as their destination must return to their vehicles.”

“Perfect timing,” I said as we settled back into our seats. I shoved the bloody tire iron under the seat.

“Dev, would you recognize a bomb if you saw one?” Laura had her head on the seat back.

“Do I really want to know why you ask?”

“Well, don’t people like him use explosives? You probably think I’m being melodramatic, but taking out this car would be simple for him.” Beneath her fear, I detected exhaustion, pain, and resignation.

“I’ll look, but I have no idea what to look for.” I opened my door. She was right. I had to at least look. I crawled out of the car and got on my hands and knees on the gritty deck. My first thought was of all the men that had spit right where my hands were placed. Then I figured dried spit was the least of my worries.

My knees didn’t like the unforgiving deck floor, but I took my time and inspected the underside of the car from several different angles. I looked into the tire wells. Several people groused over and around me trying to get to their own vehicles. I was glad they were there because their presence gave me a sense of security.

My unskilled eye didn’t detect anything foreign. I opened the hood and looked at the alien territory known as a car engine. Every gizmo in there looked like a bomb. So I closed it and whispered a prayer to any entity that cared.

“We have to check your car, ma’am.” A woman came from behind. I spun around and was face-to-face with a short, stocky ferry security official. She wasn’t the same security guard I’d met here on Monday. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun that stuck through the opening of her ball cap. She had an official security badge and a firearm hanging off her belt.

“Why? What have I done?” I’m sure I looked like I’d done it, whatever “it” was.

“We have reason to believe someone is injured on this ship. You will need to consent to a search, or we will have to detain you.” She was one of those women who probably guzzled a beer and swore like a trooper just before she threw her husband into a wall. I wasn’t going to argue.

“Officer, my friend is recuperating from an accident. See the bandages? Does she have to move?”

The little Attila went to Laura’s door and opened it. She bent, took note of Laura’s cast and bruises, and clicked the door shut. I willed myself not to sweat or shiver.

“Have you seen anyone pass by with immediate injuries, maybe bleeding?” She was inspecting my face for any sign of deception.

“No! Uh…no. I was just checking my car. I’ve been having some trouble with it.” I patted the car hood. “It seems okay, though.”

The guard nodded and without a word, moved to the next car.

“They’ve found the blood in the bathroom, but they haven’t found him,” I told Laura when I got in.