Buzzard Bay (27 page)

“Good.” Henekie was in agreement with this, “I’ll feel better if she and the kids are looked after.”

“There is a woman who lives in my house. She and I have been together for a long time, but I can’t take her with me to the Bahamas, so I want you to bring her to a certain spot where I have a going-away present for her.” Henekie had thought Grundman was going to tell him to kill this woman and was relieved that he hadn’t.

Henekie listened as Grundman told him when and where, and then he had a question. “How do you know Green’s heading for the Bahamas? It’s such a stupid place for him to go.”

“Because my business partner is holding his wife there, and we know he’ll do anything to get to her.”

Henekie just shook his head, “I’ll never understand how a man can lose his head over a piece of tail,” Henekie said as he opened the car door.

“Yes, well, to hear my business partner tell it, you haven’t seen this piece of tail,” Grundman said as Henekie shut the door.

Grundman drove over to Lena’s apartment. “Are you ready to leave in the morning?” he asked her. This was very traumatic for Lena. She had it made here, or so she thought. She realized she had a lot to learn. She had thought that once her clients found out she was underage they would back off, but they had outfoxed her. Some of the girls she had hired for her escort service were younger than she was, and suddenly her age was of no consequence. She had no choice but to leave Germany as quickly as possible.

Lena had supplied consorts for too many influential people to think they would allow her to appear in court. To add to her problems, most of her money had been confiscated. Where in hell was Grundman taking her anyway, some backward island where she’d have to live in a grass shack?

“Yes,” she said sounding bored, “I’m ready to leave in the morning.”

Lena was more dependent on Grundman than she wanted to admit. The German police wouldn’t let her leave the country, but Grundman had supplied her with false ID to get her over the Swiss border with him. They would leave for the Bahamas from there. She knew why Grundman was here, he wanted her to start paying him back now.

Besides, he had put something around her neck that she’d do anything to have. She went to work on him gradually and professionally and was quick to get a rise out of him. His mind floated away in a cocaine haze, and he thought of all the things he would be doing to Lena. He felt the juices begin to boil in his loins.

Lena sucked on the end of his cock, keeping her hand on his balls so she would know where they were at. She felt his balls move up and then eject; she quickly pulled his cock from her mouth and rubbed it against her bare chest. His cum shot out, flooding her bare skin running down between her breasts and onto her nightgown. Grundman stood with his head thrown back and his mouth open. She rose up and kissed him. “Oh! Grundman, please let me keep it.” He quickly came to his senses and unclasped the necklace from her neck.

“Not yet,” he told her, doing up his pants.

“Please,” she pouted, putting her arms around his back and rubbing her breasts against him. Grundman laughed; he had her where he wanted her.

“It will take more than a blow job to get this,” he told her and turned away walking toward the door. He stopped in the doorway, “Don’t forget, we leave at six o’clock in the morning. Don’t keep me waiting.” He closed the door just in time to stop the ashtray aimed at his head.

That evening Rona showed up at Grundman’s house. She didn’t know Mona that well, but everyone knew she was a pushover when someone cried on her shoulder. She and Rona began to talk. They had a few beers and then smoked a few joints. It was still early in the evening, but the two women were in a jovial mood.

“Tell you what,” said Rona, “I just met this new guy. He’s not bad looking and one hell of a good fuck.” They both giggled.

“Sure, phone him up,” Mona told her, “and we’ll try him out.”

Henekie arrived on a bike half an hour later. They both met him at the door buck naked. It didn’t take Henekie long to get in the mood. Rona made sure Mona got her fair share. She took hold of Henekie’s hard cock and guided it into Mona then stood behind him pushing back and forth in rhythm with his strokes watching Mona squirm and heave. “Enjoy it, you bitch,” she thought of the times Mona and Greta had fucked Ginter and then laughed at her. When Henekie couldn’t control himself anymore, he pulled out and blew his load all over Mona.

Rona reached around from behind him and held his cock as he ejected, and then she felt herself shudder as she came herself. Henekie and Rona lay back on the couch, lighting up a joint, while Mona went into the bathroom to clean up. When she came back, Rona suggested they go for a ride on the bikes.

“You should see Henekie’s new bike, Mona. He’ll take you for a ride, it’s brand-new.”

“Look what I’ve got,” Mona already had some white on her nose. “It’s Grundman’s private stash.” She handed them the cocaine.

“Let’s go naked,” Henekie suggested. The girls were too far gone to do anything but giggle and decided it might be fun. Henekie and Mona got on Henekie’s new bike while Rona followed on his old one.

It was close to midnight, but the air was still warm. There wasn’t much traffic; most cars flashed by, some honked their horns, and the two girls would wave and yell back. They were having great fun. They cleared the city limits and took a narrow winding road along the river.

With no traffic for Mona to play with, she turned her attention back to Henekie, playing with his cock. He stopped, and Mona did some more coke; she was almost out of it by the time they got to the bridge. Rona pulled up beside him and watched as Henekie got off his bike and handcuffed Mona’s legs and wrists to the bike leaving her straddled on top of it, tits down. Mona just lay there giggling, she was sure she was going to get fucked. Henekie and Rona got dressed with the clothes in their saddle bags and left Mona, as instructed.

Grundman took one last snort of coke and came up on Mona out of the darkness. He was already naked except for the gloves on his hands and just thinking about what he was going to do made him hard. “I’m going to give you a goodbye fuck, Mona, how’s that?”

“I don’t care, Grundman, I just need to get fucked,” she giggled.

“I’m going to fuck you up the ass, Mona,” he straddled the bike and started to work his way into her. She began to squirm, and that made him worry he would come to quick. He reached forward and pulled the bag up over her head. Now he felt her really start to jerk like a bucking horse; it was driving him mad. He came as she began to slump, and for the first time in his life he felt total satisfaction.

He lay on top of her gradually coming back to life. He pulled the bag off her head then raised the kickstand and pushed the bike over the bank of the river. The bike was stolen and had no registration. He watched as it and Mona tumbled into the water below.

Even lawyer Krugman had told him someday he was going to have to do something about that woman; she knows too much, he had warned. Well, she’d fucked around one too many times, and he’d taken the bitch out in style. He went back to his car and sniffed a little more cocaine up his nose. All he could think about was Lena.

Rona rode behind Henekie back into the city. It was around two in the morning as they stopped down the street from Grundman’s apartment. Henekie walked down the street and entered the apartment. He threw the firebomb inside and walked back to where Rona was waiting with the bike. They were a long ways away when they met the first fire truck. As soon as they arrived back at Rona’s house, they began making love. Henekie had never felt anything like this before. Women had always been something to get satisfaction from, good for one thing and one thing only. He’d never learned to love or be loved. Looking after himself had always been a priority.

One mistake like Ginter made, and you were gone. Maybe that was why Ginter had been so hard on Rona and the kids. He wouldn’t let himself feel for them, Henekie thought, as he held his cock in Rona, looking down on her face. Rona’s eyes had a look of pleasure he’d never seen before. They were partners not only in bed but in life.

“I’m not protected,” Rona told him, “if you don’t want to get me pregnant, you’d better pull out before you blow your load in me.”

He’d never been faced with this before. “Yes, we’ve got enough mouths to feed,” he told her. Still she’d given him the choice. And he respected her for that. Rona was out of it; her eyes shut; she bucked and twisted beneath him. He knew what he wanted to do and the shape she was in she had definitely left the decision up to him. At the last possible second, he pulled out. She held his lips to hers.

“Oh, Henekie,” she moaned, “thank you.” He thought she might be mad, but now for the first time he felt at peace. He fell asleep like a little baby, his mouth on Rona’s nipple.

The next day when Rona went to get the kids from her sister’s place, Henekie poured over the information Grundman had given him. “The daughter’s the key,” he thought. Henekie didn’t like the idea of going back to Minnesota. But if he was going to get to Green, that was where he was going to have to go. Rona came back with the kids. They all jumped on him trying to get his attention before the other. Henekie played with the kids for a while then he went over to Rona. “I have to go away tomorrow,” he told her.

“I know,” she smiled, “we still have tonight.” The problem, he realized, was that he didn’t really want to go; distractions in his business could be deadly. Hopefully, once he was away from here, he could forget all this and concentrate on the business at hand.

The next day he was on a plane to the United States. He spent the first night in New York and went right to sleep. The next night he slept in Minneapolis. Already he was horny, wishing Rona’s warm body was next to his.

SEVENTEEN

T
HE WOMEN RAN
the farm when the men were away. In fact, the men were so distracted that the project actually ran better when they were away. The girls knew they could get more out of the people working there than the men could. The men were too easy on them.

The girls were actually clones of the men. Pearl looked after the office, while Hania and July looked after the field work. Hania spent most of her time in the produce barns, leaving July to roam the fields, making sure the work got done. Often, she worked in the evenings when it wasn’t so hot. That’s when most of the picking and harvesting was done.

Today, she had gone out early. One of the irrigation pumps had broken down, and she had to make sure it was fixed. It was a terribly hot day, but now the early evening breeze had begun to cool the air.

July drove her pickup with the windows open trying to get the air to cool her sweaty body. She’d just have time for a shower and a bite to eat before she went back to the fields, she thought as she pulled up to her lane.

Down the road, she noticed two cars; one was a police car. They were parked in front of the Drinkwaters’ and Shonavons’ houses which were side by side. July nearly went down to see what was going on, and then she thought better of it. She was tired; they’d let her know soon enough if there was a problem. She parked the truck and went in the house, glad to be out of the hot sun. Sitting at her kitchen table was Horatio Norton.

“You startled me,” July gasped, putting her hand to her sweaty chest.

“July,” he said, “listen and listen carefully. You, Hania, and Pearl have all been deported. The police from Nassau are with Pearl and Hania right now. I told them I would wait for you.”

“Why?” was all July could say.

“It’s not totally clear,” Horatio told her, “but it’s got something to do with your husbands.”

“Are they all right?” July asked.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered. “What bothers me, July, is that Pearl and Hania are being sent back to Canada, but you’re to be detained here in the Bahamas. I find that very odd. The other thing is that I cannot find out why you’re being detained or where the order is coming from.”

July sensed he was trying to tell her something. “What can I do?” she asked him.

“If I were you, I’d take your boat and get the hell out of here. You can meet Rikker coming back from school, that way he’ll be safe too. That’s all I can do for you, July, the rest is up to you.”

“What about Bob?” said July, starting to panic.

“You’re no good to him if they hold you somewhere, now get going.”

July grabbed the keys to the boat off the wall peg and headed out to the dock. She heard voices in the house as she untied the boat and pushed off. She sat behind the steering wheel and turned the key, but the engine wouldn’t start. Don’t panic, she told herself. She gave it some choke and the engine coughed to life. July headed across the lake, never looking back.

When they had first come here, the channel from Fresh Creek to the lake was overgrown and too narrow to navigate. The men had gone to work clearing and widening it big enough for small boats to push through. It was a good quarter of a mile before the channel widened, and she dared look back. No one was in sight; her heart began to settle down.

There were enough kids on the project now that a school bus hauled them back and forth to school. A new road to False Creek had shortened the trip considerably. Rikker still preferred to ride his Sea-Doo if the weather was good.

he met him just as she came into the main stream. She waved him over and told him what had happened. She was proud of Rikker; he had grown into a good-looking young man, well liked by everyone, especially the girls. He had begun to remind her more and more of his dad with his smile and stubborn determination.

Last week they had taken some boys from Andros over to Nassau to play soccer. Nassau was a far superior team, but Rikker had his team full of confidence. It was Rikker’s determination that had inspired the team. They hadn’t won, but the other team knew they were in a game right to the end. He was the kind of man who would make something of the Bahamas someday, that was if they got to stay.

Rikker was hopping mad, but his mother cooled him down. “We’ll worry about all that later,” she told him. “Right now we have to find a place to hide.”

“Let’s go to the old barrel shack,” he told her, “at least we’ll have a roof over our heads.”

It was just a small shed with a dock. It was used to store barrels of fuel for the bigger boats that came up Fresh Creek bringing in supplies. Here the supplies would be loaded onto smaller boats as the water became too shallow for the big boats to navigate. The big boats would refuel from the shack before heading back down the creek. Now with the better roads, the shack wasn’t used anymore.

That night, Riker went back to the project to find out what was going down. When he came back, he had some sandwiches and coffee that he had stolen from the APCO kitchen. “Everybody’s scared,” he told her. “They don’t know what’s going to happen. I saw two APCO guys in our office going through the papers.”

They put the top up on the boat and closed it, so they could sleep on the soft seats. Really, they had nowhere to go.

The next day, July hid their boat in a little channel near the shack. Rikker headed down to Fresh Creek town to see if he could get help.

An hour later, July heard the plane and watched from the shack as it flew low over the creek. There was no way they could see the boat, but she was worried about Rikker. He also heard the plane before he saw it.

He’d been skirting along the edge of the creek and stopped under some overgrowth to watch the plane appear and then disappear over the trees. He continued down the creek till he came within view of the bridge. He parked his Sea-Doo in some weeds.

The town itself was built at the mouth of the creek along both sides. A rusted steel bridge connected one side to the other and was the only access to the naval base. He walked along the bank until he saw a man standing on the bridge. He then skirted around the bridge going through the town and then back toward the creek where the fishing boats docked. He was in luck; Arthur’s brother’s boat was there. Rikker found him working on his engine.

He wiped his hands on a rag and shook hands with Rikker, a big grin on his face. Arthur’s brother no longer grinned as Rikker told him what had happened. He took Rikker up to see Skinny, who had been fast friends with Bob and July since they had first started coming to Andros long ago.

They sat in Skinny’s office discussing what was going down. “I’ll find out what I can,” Skinny told Rikker. Arthur’s brother said he would bring some supplies that night. “That’s as good a place to hide as any until we can move you out of there,” he told Rikker.

Rikker told him there was a man watching the bridge. He headed back to his mother.

Later that night, Arthur’s brought some blankets, food, and a small camp stove.

“We’ll get you out of here as soon as we can find a place where you’ll be safe. It’s not easy to hide a woman as well-known as you,” he smiled.

It was around noon the next day when they first heard the boat. July had just cooked lunch on the tiny stove. Both she and Rikker lifted their heads at the same time. Few boats came this far upstream, especially powerful-sounding ones. They both knew what it meant.

“They’ll check here for sure,” Rikker said, “let’s get to the boat.”

They jumped off the dock and ran down the little path to the hidden channel where the boat and Sea-Doo sat.

“Help me push the boat out to the creek,” Rikker told his mom.

He sounded so much like his father that she didn’t even question his motive. They could hear the powerboat slowing to land at the barrel shack as Riker took the mooring rope and then tied it around the outboard engine of July’s boat. Then standing beside it, he started the engine and set it in gear. The boat leapt from the cover of the bushes hiding the channel and headed across the creek. Even this far upstream, the tide still affected the creek, making it a good one hundred feet wide. They heard the powerful motors of the other boat fire up to give chase.

July climbed on behind Rikker as they left their hiding place heading the Sea-Doo upstream for shallow water. It didn’t take long for July’s riderless boat to plow into the other bank of the creek.

The men on the powerboat quickly saw Rikker and July on the Sea-Doo and gave chase. Rikker thought the distraction would be enough of a head start to get them into where the water was too shallow for them to follow. What he didn’t know was that the craft following them was a jet boat with a very shallow draft. They could go in water almost as shallow as he could.

July watched the powerboat gaining behind them. For a minute, she thought they might make the channel to the lake which was definitely too narrow for the speedboat. Now she saw that this was impossible.

“It’s me they want,” she hollered in Rikker’s ear, “keep going, they’ll stop to pick me up if I jump off.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Rikker hollered back, intent on making the channel.

“Someone’s got to warn your dad,” July told him. “You know he’ll come for us, they won’t hurt me, it’s him they want.”

With that, he felt her let go. She turned a somersault in the water behind the Sea-Doo before coming to a stop. The water was only up to her waist as she stood up sputtering. The powerboat pulled up right beside her; she tried to swim away, but they were on her. She kicked and swung at them until she was played out, and then they loaded her into the boat.

Rikker turned to watch from the mouth of the narrow lake channel. He saw one of the men point at him. The man driving the boat shook his head and turned the boat back down the creek.

July lay in the bottom of the boat completely exhausted. She saw there were five men in the boat with her. All of them were black, and all of them were armed. The boat continued down the creek for a ways and then stopped. July looked up to see them hook a tow rope to her wrecked boat and begin pulling it downstream.

They went until they found a place along the edge where there was a small inlet. Two of the men pushed the wrecked boat in as far as they could then sank it. To July’s surprise, they headed back upstream stopping at the barrel shack.

Here they removed everything that she and Rikker had put in the shack, painstakingly making sure to remove every trace of anyone being there. Then except for the driver, all found some shade to sleep.

“Might as well make yourself comfortable, Mrs. Green,” the driver said, throwing a tarp over the windshield of the boat to protect them from the sun. “We’ll be here till sunset.”

It was almost pitch black when July saw the old steel bridge at French Creek pass overhead. She could see the lights along the edge of the creek from where she was lying on the bottom of the boat.

“We’re heading out to the ocean,” she thought. The water was choppy, making the ride rough in the bottom of the boat. July tried to sit up, but a rough hand would quickly push her down again. It seemed to July the ride went on forever, but suddenly they slowed and then came to a stop. She struggled to get up, but two of the men grabbed her and held her down while a third stuck a needle in her arm. She fought it as long as she could, but she became very tired.

“I’m going to sleep now, Bob,” she murmured.

The driver of the boat was on the radio.

“The harbor patrol is just going by now,” a voice said, “wait another fifteen minutes and then come on in.”

“Roger,” the driver answered, looking at his watch. He waited until the time had gone by then headed into the harbor coming to the APCO warehouse along the waterfront and drove inside. They tied up the boat as the huge front door closed behind them.

“I see you had good luck hunting,” Manly Waddell said to the men as they lifted July’s sleeping body from the boat. He led the way, showing the men a room to put her in.

“Okay, I’ll look after her from here on in,” he told the men. They smiled and left him alone.

July still had the same clothes she’d worn the day she’d taken the boat from the project. Manly took them off her body, undressing her until she was naked. He bent down and kissed her nipples, and then he ran his hand along the inside of her thighs and put his finger up inside her. He felt the lust come in his loins, “Not just yet,” he said to himself, “not till you come to me will I give you my seed.”

He fondled her breasts, hating to leave her. He set the glass on a small table beside her cot. “This will help you understand how much you want me,” he told her then left the room and locked the door. He went upstairs to where a TV screen monitored the room July was in.

The man watching the screen turned to him. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Manly grinned, “Better than most of the riffraff you get in here. Probably has you going off in your pants,” he laughed.

He was Waddell’s interrogation expert. He had learned his trade from Castro before escaping to find better-paying employers. He had shown Manly how, instead of torture, he could with the use of drugs, turn the hardest of men into blithering idiots. He had also assured Manly he could turn this woman into a totally submissive piece of flesh catering to his every command.

Waddell had no worries of this man ever bothering July. He was as gay as they came.

“How long do you think?” Manly asked him.

“A woman is always more susceptible to these drugs than a man. Their metabolism seems to break down the drugs quicker. I’d say we could have her ready in thirty-six hours.”

“Perfect,” Manly told him. It would nicely give him time to get ready.

When July woke up, there was a bright light in her eyes. She rolled over and sat up. She was in a white room, everything was white.

“Where am I?” she thought, “I’m so thirsty.” She saw the glass on the table and reached for it. She tasted it and then drank it all. She stood up shading her eyes from the light and felt the white walls. “I’m tired,” she said to herself, crawling back into the cot and falling asleep.