Dead Asleep (26 page)

Chapter 46

J
oseph dragged Carrow back into the Blue Heron villa. He marched him into the kitchen, where the voodoo priestess was sitting at the table, humming and swaying over a plate of various objects.

“What the hell are you doing?” Joseph said.

She looked up at him. “Curse. He be mine, too.” She pointed at Carrow, grabbed a handful of white powder, stood to face him and blew on her palms. Carrow coughed twice before sucking air in a deep gasp. The woman turned toward Joseph and he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, hitting her dead center in the chest. She jerked backward, got a look of surprise on her face and slowly slumped to the ground.

He stalked to the watercooler in the corner, pulled off a cup from the holder and drank a full cup. He filled it again. When he was done he saw that Carrow was staring at the woman's body. His face was pale and stress lines bracketed his mouth.

“That's what will happen to you if you cross me. I don't care who you are, do you understand?”

Carrow looked at Joseph and nodded.

“This long way around, will it take us past the mangrove?”

Carrow nodded again.

Joseph smiled at him. “What, cat got the famous singer's tongue?” He looked around the kitchen. “Anybody else in this house I should know about? Where's the staff?”

“Gone,” Carrow said.

“You sure? Maybe we check each room. I'm not leaving any witnesses.”

“I'm sure,” Carrow said. “I know everyone on this island.”

Joseph shook his head. “No you don't. You don't know the one guy who's brought all this hellfire down on your heads. If you did you wouldn't have let him on this fancy island.”

“Is he staff or owner?”

Joseph snorted. “Owner. He owns everything. Except me. He only rented me.” He tossed the wax-covered cup into the sink. “Let's go. Bring it.”

“It?” Carrow asked. Joseph waved the gun in the direction of the corpse.

“Put it in the trunk of the car.”

Carrow walked to the corpse and put his arms under the body's armpits. He began to drag her across the floor, through the house, out the front and to the car. Joseph kept his gun aimed at him the whole time. Carrow arranged the body in the trunk and closed the lid.

“Now back.”

“Into the house?”

“Yes. Time to clean.” Joseph watched with satisfaction as Carrow cleaned the floor on his hands and knees, using paper towels and floor cleaner. Joseph sat in a chair and drank some more water. “I read once that you guys worshiped Satan. Word was that you embedded satanic ritual sayings in your albums. That if they're played backward the words ‘God is dead' can be heard. That true?” Carrow got to his feet and tossed the used paper towels in the garbage. He walked to the sink and washed his hands.

“It's not. It was all we could do to arrange them when played correctly. We had no idea what the albums would sound like if they were played backward.”

“But the Satan worship. That true?”

Carrow looked at the spot that he'd just cleaned and swallowed. “Martin did some.”

Joseph stood up. “So you got what you asked for. You got me.” Joseph was pleased to see a flash of despair cross Carrow's face. He needled him further. “I mean, you wanted what Satan does, right? He kills. Like me. You prayed for me and Satan answered.” He put his arms out. “I'm the answer to your prayers.” Joseph laughed. He loved his joke. After a moment he stopped. The skinny singer was looking at him as if he was strange. Evil. Joseph felt his mood swing to angry in a second. “You're not better than I am. Don't forget it.” He waved at the hall. “Back to the car. You're going to drive.”

They worked their way through the house and Joseph kept the gun on Carrow while he buckled up.

“Which way?”

“Just take this road back around. I'll tell you when to stop.”

Carrow raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He drove with precision, dodging branches and twigs. The windshield wipers slapped against the glass and the wind howled around them, occasionally buffeting the car. When they were still some distance away, Joseph told him to stop.

“Get in the trunk.”

Carrow gave him a look. “What? The trunk?”

Joseph nodded. “You heard me.”

“There's no more room.”

“Make room. Unless you want to see where we're headed? In that case, I'll have no choice but to kill you. No witnesses, remember? So you can either get in the trunk with your girlfriend or you can die.” He put the gun up against Carrow's cheek. He waited for Carrow to flinch, but Carrow stared back at him with a solemn look that lacked fear. He has some guts, Joseph thought.

Carrow pressed the trunk release and opened the driver's door. Joseph angled out on his side and kept the gun on the singer while he pulled the lid open. He pushed the body farther into the trunk, arranging the woman's limbs. Then he folded himself into the trunk as well, keeping his back to the corpse. Joseph pointed his gun at the emergency trunk release inside the space. “Touch it and I kill you, understand?”

Carrow flicked a glance at the handle but said nothing.

Joseph slammed the trunk closed, got behind the wheel, and drove the rest of the way to the villa. He pulled into the front under the portico and got out to ring the bell. After a couple of minutes the door opened. The large idiot stood in the doorway and looked at him with his dead eyes.

“Tell him Caldridge and Sumner are dead. The minerals are back on the boat at the harbor. I want my money. I'm getting out of here.”

“Tell him yourself,” the large man said.

Joseph waved at the car. “I got a guy in the trunk that I have to watch. Unless you want to?”

The man turned and disappeared into the house. Joseph returned to the car and leaned against it. Leaves blew across the yard and the rain kept hammering down. He couldn't wait to leave the stinking island behind him. After ten minutes the front door opened and the large man emerged.

“He says you're wrong. They aren't dead.”

Joseph pushed off the car. “You lie!” he said. The man smirked. Joseph pushed past him into the house.

“What about your package in the trunk?” the large man said.

“I don't care. Where am I going?”

The large man glanced at the car, shrugged and closed the door. “Follow me.”

Joseph followed behind the man and did his best not to urge him to go faster. The man ambled in a loose-jointed slow manner. When he reached the back of the house he turned left and went back to the library door where Joseph had last seen the Vulture. He opened it and stepped inside.

The thin man sat behind a desk in the corner of the room tapping on the front of a paper-thin tablet computer. A green accountant's light lit the desk pad.

“Why are you lying to me?” the Vulture said, but he didn't look up from his computer screen.

“I'm not lying. I saw them go over the side of the mountain. The car rolled down at least fifty feet, maybe more. I watched it for a few minutes and no one moved. They're dead.”

“My contact at the West Hill says they both just appeared there at the door.”

Joseph gritted his teeth together to contain himself. If what the man said was true, then he looked like a liar. Worse, he looked like a traitor. He had no illusions about what this man would do to him if he thought for a second that he was being double-crossed. He felt the first inkling of fear run through him.

“Where's Aiesha?”

“The voodoo lady?” Joseph asked.

“Yes.”

“Dead,” Joseph said.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Really dead or presumed dead?”

“I shot her. She's dead. She's in the trunk of my car. Want to come see for yourself?”

The man got an annoyed look on his face. “I might still have had some use for her. You shouldn't have killed her without my permission.”

“She used her powder on Carrow. I didn't want to be next.”

“Her knowledge of plants might have yet come in handy. Especially if the chemist is still roaming around.”

“She won't be. Not for long.”

“One can only hope. Now get rid of the body. Throw it into the sea, and then go back and finish the job or I'll finish you. Take Carl with you.”

“No, I work alone,” Joseph said.

“Not anymore you don't,” the thin man replied.

Joseph turned away and looked at the large idiot Carl, who seemed even less enthused about the idea than he was.

“I have to watch the cameras,” Carl said. “The security team left in the evacuation.”

“Don't bother. There's no one left on the island. Go with him and make sure the chemist is dead,” the thin man said. Joseph strode past Carl into the hall and back down to the front door.

“You have a gun?” Joseph asked. Carl nodded.

“How could you have let her get away twice?” Carl sounded disgusted.

“No one told me that she could shoot. I was told that she was a scientist.”

Joseph opened the door and bent his head while he fought the swirling wind back to the car. Carl followed. When they were both in the vehicle, Joseph started it, put it in gear and began to drive. After they'd traveled a couple of feet there was a pinging sound and the image of a car with its trunk lid open appeared in red on the dash. Joseph slammed the car into park. He got out and walked to the rear. The trunk lid hovered open an inch from the clasp. He swung it upward and started breathing faster. The trunk held only the corpse. Carrow was gone.

He was breathing in and out so fast that he started to feel light-headed. He wanted to slam the lid down and scream his frustration to the sky, but he didn't want the fool in the passenger seat to know that he'd lost control of the hostage. This job was becoming a series of disasters.

Joseph slammed into the car, threw it in gear and floored the gas pedal. The car wheels spun on the wet cobblestones before grabbing. He turned toward the ocean.

“I'm going to the dock. You can help me throw the piece of trash in the trunk into the sea,” he said to Carl.

“Do it yourself,” Carl said. “I didn't kill her.”

Once at the dock, Joseph slammed out of the car and opened the trunk. He grabbed her arm and dragged the body forward. He picked it up, slung it over one shoulder, and walked to the beginning of the plank walkway.

Ten-foot-high waves crashed over the wooden structure. The skinny man's yacht was docked on one side, and it bobbed up and down in the turbulence. Joseph took two steps farther onto the pier before bending over and tossing the body. It hit the water with a smacking noise and a wave slammed it against the round wooden dock supports. Joseph didn't stay to watch. He returned to the car and was relieved to close the door on the driving rain and howling wind.

He drove down the long driveway to the main road and turned to continue around the mountain. Carl gazed out the passenger window and remained silent. The whole time that Joseph navigated the mountain turns he boiled with anger. He wanted to hit something until it died. Anything to release the well of rage inside him. He focused on the chemist. She was the key. Find her, retrieve the minerals, kill her and take off.

As he drove his anger abated and he started thinking a bit more rationally. He thought about how easily the Vulture took the news that the voodoo bokor was dead. How completely expendable she was to him. Was that how he viewed all those who worked for him? It occurred to Joseph for the first time that the thin man had no intention of paying him. He would collect the minerals and have him killed.

He wouldn't take that risk. He'd steal the minerals for himself, kill all the witnesses, and take off in a boat. Once away he'd arrange his own sale.

And keep all the profits. He smiled in the dark as he drove to the West Hill.

Chapter 47

E
mma watched Belinda Rory stagger around the living room of the West Hill villa. She was alternating between talking to herself and crying. Sumner stood next to Ian Porter at the wet bar and stared at the corner of the room with an astonished look on his face. Emma could only imagine that he was seeing more beasts. Porter shoved a rocks glass in Sumner's hand.

“Drink,” he said. Sumner drank, all the while keeping his eyes glued to the corner. Porter poured another shot and walked over to Emma. “For you. Glad to see you're in one piece.” Emma still wore her soaking, filthy coat and her hair was plastered against her face. Wet strands hung in front of her eyes. She sipped the drink, which was a smooth orange brandy, while she watched Rory. The woman had moved in front of a framed black-and-white photo of Carrow onstage that hung on the wall and was muttering to it.

“What's wrong with her?”

Porter sighed. “I haven't the slightest idea. She keeps saying that the dead people are all around us and they want to make us join them. She's been talking this way for hours.”

“Where's Warner?”

“Asleep.”

“Oh no,” Emma said.

“Sorry, I meant normal sleep.”

Emma brightened. “So the disease hasn't hit her?”

“Not yet.”

Rory let out a shriek and pointed to the corner. “Do you see the beast?”

Sumner nodded. “You bet I do.”

Porter frowned. “He's got it, too?”

Emma shook her head. “The witch woman drugged him with scopolamine. He's having hallucinations.”

“How long will that last?”

“I have no idea, but I hope not much longer, because we all have to leave the island and he's the only one who can fly the plane.”

Emma felt an overwhelming exhaustion settle over her. She knew that every moment she stood there was a waste of precious time, but she needed to regroup and think. She hoped that Joseph thought they were dead and she could buy some time. She went over to Sumner.

“Do you think you can fly a plane in this condition?”

He tore his eyes from the corner and looked at her. “I can fly a plane in any condition.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact manner. If it was anyone else but Sumner, she would have assumed that he was bragging, but she knew him to be an excellent pilot.

“We have to collect all the people who are still awake, load them on the plane and get the hell out of here,” she said.

“My plane only holds six. We should take Carrow's jet.”

“Can you fly in this storm?” Porter asked. Sumner looked out the row of French doors. The rain was still a deluge, and the lightning and thunder continued unabated.

“I think I can. It's going to be unpleasant, though.” He returned his gaze to the corner. “Oh no, the beast is gone.”

“Is that a problem?” Emma said.

“I like to keep it in my sights. I hate to have it roaming about the island.” He gave her a wry look. Emma couldn't help it, she smiled, and his lips crooked in amusement as well. He followed it with his usual serious expression. “But we can't fly away just yet. If we do, then we won't get done what Stromeyer asked us to do.”

“I've been thinking about that, but realistically, would the sale go forward under these conditions? With a quarantine in place and a tropical storm?”

“Those are ideal conditions. Especially if the buyers were already on the island before the quarantine was put in place.” He shivered. “Before I decide anything, I'm going to shower. I'm freezing and my stomach is rebelling. Could either symptom be from the drug?”

“The nausea, for sure.”

He put his drink down. “Then I'm going to see if I can settle it down.” He asked Porter to show him to a spare room. Emma decided to follow his lead. She shrugged off the coat and continued to a different room to shower.

Thirty minutes later she was clean, dry, and wearing a robe while she waited for their laundered clothes to dry. She sat in a chair in the spare bedroom and stared out at the rain, brooding. She'd come to a decision. There was a soft knock on the door and Sumner entered. He was dressed and holding a pile of clothes.

“Yours,” he said. She crossed the room to take them from him. They were still warm from the dryer.

“Hallucinations gone?”

He shook his head. “No. They keep popping up at odd times. I wonder how long a half-life this stuff has. Maybe it's like LSD and can keep affecting you months later.”

“I think you should fly everyone out of here and let me check out the two villas that Stromeyer asked us to,” Emma blurted out.

Sumner frowned. “No.”

“Let me tell you why I think it's a good idea.”

“Don't bother. It's a terrible idea. Joseph is still out there somewhere, not to mention a handful of arms dealers bent on buying a weapon that will allow them to pass undetected through metal screening. While I know you can shoot—due to my fine instruction, I might add—I doubt that you can shoot as well as this Joseph. I, however, can.”

“There are too many people at risk and no one else can fly Carrow's jet.”

“I'm not leaving you here alone to face them,” Sumner said.

“I'm only going to do half of what we discussed. The reconnaissance. See which villa is hosting. We can call back to Stromeyer to arrange for her to take it from there. It's not ideal, because the buyers could disappear, but at least we'll know who the players are, and that might be enough information for Stromeyer to track them. I can handle this. You need to get these people out of here.”

“I know you can handle it, but I'm still not leaving.”

Emma blew out a frustrated breath and headed to the attached bathroom to dress. When she emerged, Sumner was gone.

She found him in the kitchen, standing at the sink and cleaning his gun. He nodded at her when she entered before returning to the task. Every few seconds he glanced at the corner of the kitchen with a grim expression on his face.

“Beasts?”

He nodded. “I don't suppose you see them.”

“No.”

He sighed. “It's all that I can do to stay calm.”

Emma walked up behind him, put her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his back. His body vibrated with tension. She held him and tried to give him the strength he needed to keep ignoring what his brain told him was true. He stilled. They stayed that way for a minute or more. He put down the gun, placed his hand over hers at his waist and wrapped his fingers around her palm. She listened to the pounding rain and the murmuring voices of the others in the villa and felt his regular breathing and warm body heat. Someone coughed, and Emma turned to see Porter standing in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you wanted to know if anyone approached the villa,” he said. She still had her left arm wrapped around Sumner's waist, and felt his stomach clench in alarm. She stepped away from him.

“Yes. Is there?”

“The entrance gate has a camera mount. Come take a look.”

Porter hurried through the villa to the front hall, where a small screen was attached to the wall near the door. It showed a man making his way through the trees.

“Is that Joseph?” Sumner said to Emma.

“Who's Joseph?” Porter asked.

Emma watched the man working his way around the ten-foot-high brick boundary wall. The pouring rain and shadows from the trees made the image blur. She couldn't see the man's face clearly enough to be sure. After a moment the man disappeared from the screen. She shook her head.

“It's hard to tell, but he had the right body shape and height. My gun's in the bedroom. I'm going to get it.”

“Who's Joseph?” Porter asked again. “And why do you need a gun?”

“We think he's a hired killer,” Sumner said.

Emma glanced back and paused when she saw Porter's stunned expression.

“Please tell me this is all a bad dream,” he said.

“Go get Warner and Rory,” Sumner said. “I'm going to cover you while you run to the garage. Take the first car you can and drive away as quickly as possible.” Porter started down the hall to where Emma was standing.

“Where are we going?” he asked her.

“To the airport. Get inside Carrow's jet and wait for us there.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“Not right away. I have something to do first.”

“
We
have to do something first,” Sumner said. He gave Emma a pointed look. Since she couldn't exactly force him to go with the others, she just nodded her assent. There was no time to argue with him. She looked back at Porter.

“Give us an hour. If we don't arrive, leave the jet and get over to the
Siren's Song
. Take it out. You don't have to go to sea, but you should go far enough so that he can't find you easily. Oz is at Island Security right by the airport. Please don't leave without him.”

“The sound man?”

“Yes.”

“I can see someone lurking in the backyard,” Sumner said. His voice was low.

“Porter, go!” Emma said. Porter ran down the hall.

“Meet me in the kitchen,” Sumner said.

Emma sprinted to the bedroom and grabbed her gun from the coat. She ran into the living room to check on Rory. It was empty. The bank of French doors lacked any curtains and so she shut off the lights in order to make it more difficult for someone outside to see in. She saw a man working his way through the trees at the lot line. He seemed taller and bulkier than the man she remembered as Joseph. The lawn was illuminated from a lightning burst as the man turned to look at the house. Emma gasped and ran back into the kitchen. She found Porter and a sleepy-looking Warner standing there.

“Where's Rory?” she asked.

“I don't know. I couldn't find her anywhere,” Porter said.

Sumner was against the wall next to the bay window keeping an eye on the lawn. “I was just telling everyone to go out through the front. I'll keep him pinned down here.”

“Forget it. I have some bad news. He's got an accomplice. I've seen this guy before. His name is Carl. He works for the water company.” She waved a hand at the Springfed water dispenser in the kitchen corner. “We're going to have to stage a distraction.”

Sumner nodded. “Makes sense. What do you have in mind?”

“You're the sharpshooter. I think you should stay focused on Joseph and I should draw the other one away. He's on the side with the pool gazebo, which is good, because it's far from the garage. What do you say that I draw him out and you cover the rest while they run to the garage.”

“How do you intend to draw him out?” Sumner looked at her with suspicion.

“On foot. I'm going to run into the trees. There's a trail that leads from the villa down to the beach. I've run it before. It's the one we talked about, with the poison garden and the manchineel trees at the bottom. If the big one follows me, he can't keep up, and with the wind and the rain I doubt he'll be able to get a clean shot. I don't know anything about him, but he didn't seem the type to be superskilled.”

Sumner nodded. “Okay.” He looked at Porter. “Hit that garage, head to the airstrip, and don't look back.” He looked at Emma. “Just concentrate on running as fast as you can.”

Emma checked her own weapon. “I need a flashlight. I'll kill myself on that path otherwise.”

Porter walked to a pantry and returned with a heavy Maglite flash.

“This one should work,” he said. Emma put a hand on Sumner's arm.

“Give me a moment to get some glasses and cover up my face from the manchineel tree sap. Can you take the second car and go to the dock and get Marwell? Meet us all at the airstrip?”

Sumner nodded. “Let's do it.”