Death at Devil's Bridge (10 page)

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Authors: Cynthia DeFelice

BOOK: Death at Devil's Bridge
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Even in the gathering darkness, I had no trouble making my way up the cliffs to the cave. The climb was as familiar to me as the crash and hiss of the waves and the taste of the salt on my lips. I turned sideways to slide in the narrow opening and said, “Donny, it's me.”
My words echoed eerily back to me, followed by a deep silence. I felt the first stirrings of doubt. Could I have been wrong? What, after all, had made me so sure Donny would be here?
But then a low whisper came from the depths of the cave. “Daggett?”
To my surprise, my own voice sounded clear and strong. “Yeah, it's me. I thought you might be here.”
I didn't turn on the flashlight, even though I couldn't see Donny in the back of the cave. I was remembering something Pop had told me about cornered animals. He said you didn't want to stare directly at them, or crowd them, or make any sudden moves. You had to let them get used to you, and let them know you meant them no harm. It occurred to me that Donny probably felt just like a cornered animal, especially if he knew that Ray and the cops were looking for him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Looking for you,” I said. “What are you doing?”
He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. “Good question.”
I had to get on with what I'd come for, quickly, and get home. “Listen, Donny.”
“Yeah?”
“I opened the envelope today and saw the dope. And I ran into Ray, and he's looking for you. And so are the cops, I think.” I was talking really fast, trying to get it all out at once. “And, anyway, I don't want to do deliveries anymore, and neither does Jeff.”
I didn't actually know that for sure, but I thought it was a pretty good guess.
“So, here.” I reached into my pocket and took out the money I'd brought. “That's ninety dollars. Forty-five for me and forty-five for Jeff. It's what you've paid us so far. We're out.”
Donny laughed again, bitterly. “You think it's that easy, Daggett? Just give back the money and you're out?”
“Yeah,” I said uncertainly. “Why not?”
Donny made a strangled sound somewhere between a cry and a moan. “Oh, man,” he said.
Now that my eyes were becoming used to the darkness, I could see him put his head in his hands and shake it back and forth.
“This is all so
screwed up
!” His voice rose in anger or despair, I couldn't tell which. “It's just a matter of time, anyway.”
“Until what?”
“Until I get busted. Until we all get busted. And maybe even charged with murder.” Donny broke off with something that sounded like a sob.
This sure wasn't the tough-talking Donny who'd taken me to the fireworks and bragged about getting some of his own back. This was a kid who was just as scared as I was.
“Murder? You mean Cameron Maddox?”
“That stupid jerk! I wish he'd never come here.”
“But you didn't…” I didn't really want to ask, didn't want to know.
“Kill him? No!”
“Then why would you get blamed for it?”
He didn't answer, but asked instead, “You said you met Ray?”
“Yeah. He was at your house.”
“Well, Ray's the one who's in charge of our little business. I guess you already figured that out. Maddox came to the island with a couple pounds of dope to sell to Ray. Except after the deal was made, Ray discovered that the order was a few ounces short, and he totally flipped out. You don't want to be around Ray when he's mad, I can tell you. He's little, but he's mean. The next day, Maddox was missing.”
“Then Jeff and I found him—”
“Dead.”
“You think Ray—?”
“I don't know,” Donny said with a groan. “The whole thing is so messed up. The cops know Maddox was into drugs. I'm pretty sure they know about us, or why do they keep coming around asking questions? How long before they put it all together?”
I didn't know what to say.
Donny went on. “And the other stuff I did just makes it look worse. Pushing the car in the water was kind of a joke that got out of hand. But if they know I did it, it'll be easy for them to think I killed him, too, right?”
“Maybe. But are you sure he was murdered and didn't just drown? I mean, do the cops know for sure?”
“From the questions they're asking, believe me, they suspect something. They even went to Jen's house. Can you believe it? She broke up with me. I figured her old man made her do it, but she said she didn't want to hang out with a druggie.” Donny laughed bitterly.
I took out the flashlight and checked my watch. Nine-fifteen. Mom was already mad.
Not nearly as mad as she's going to be
, I thought. But I had come to find Donny with my mind made up about what I was going to do, and I didn't see any reason not to go through with my plan. I turned on the flashlight and shone it on the back wall of the cave until I found the place where Pop's initials were carved, right near Jeff's and mine. Seeing the letters JUD, for Jack Ulysses Daggett, gave me courage.
“Donny, the reason I came to find you is because—” I faltered for a moment. “I'm going to the cops.”
“You're
what
?”
“Look, Donny, I wanted to warn you first and give you the chance to go with me. I'm sure it'll be better that way, better than getting caught. I'm going to tell them everything I know and hope—” My voice broke as I thought about getting sent to juvenile reform school. I swallowed and went on. “Hope they won't be too tough on us.”
“Ben, you
can't
,” Donny said, desperation in his voice. “See, you and Jeff won't get in too much trouble because you're minors. That's why Ray wanted me to hire you guys. But I'm over sixteen, man. I could go to
jail
.”
I was still standing close to the cave's entrance, facing inward toward Donny. A voice came suddenly from behind me. “That's right, Donny.”
Startled, I dropped the flashlight. With shaking hands, I fumbled for it in the dark, then tried to hold it steady as I pointed it in the direction of the voice.
The powerful beam illuminated the scowling face of Ray.
“And that's why nobody's going to the cops,” he said. Then he swore and held a hand up to cover his eyes. “Turn that thing off!” he ordered.
But I didn't. I was too shocked to move.
“I said turn it off!” Ray repeated. Keeping one hand over his eyes to block the light, he reached toward me with the other and shoved me, hard. I fell and landed sprawled on my back on the floor of the cave. Before Ray could do anything else to me, I turned off the flashlight and lay there for a moment, stunned and furious and humiliated.
As I slowly picked myself up, I could see Ray's skinny frame silhouetted against the cave's mouth. Now, I figured, he was blinded by the sudden plunge into darkness.
“So you want to go crying to the cops, huh?” Ray kept talking into the blackness.
Warily, I watched his arm move. He was reaching slowly into his shirt and laughing mockingly, saying, “Poor little babies are getting scared, is that it? Well, listen up.”
But I didn't want to listen up. And I didn't want to find out what Ray was reaching for. I felt a rush of power and energy flood through me, fueled by anger at Ray and the need to stop his taunting voice, stop his reaching hand.
Moving quietly, I took two steps that brought me within reach of Ray, and snapped on the light, shining it full in his face. In the instant that he squinted his eyes shut and raised his hands to cover them, I swung the heavy flashlight and crashed it into his head as hard as I could.
Ray's knees buckled, and I felt him going down as the flashlight fell from my hands and went out. He lay in a crumpled heap in the doorway to the cave.
“Come on, Donny! Quick!” I called. “Before he gets up!”
Ray moaned, let out a curse, and began trying to struggle to his feet.
I stepped over him and started running down the cliffs toward the beach, waiting to hear Donny coming along behind me. When I didn't, I stopped. I could hear sounds of struggle from the cave. Then a figure appeared and began moving toward me. Donny!
Relieved, I began running again, wanting only to get to my bike, pedal to the police station, call home, and—
The night was shattered by a piercing blast. At first my mind couldn't make sense of what I was hearing. Then another blast followed the first, and I knew that what I'd heard was a gun. I knew it, but I couldn't quite believe it—
a gun
!
No!
I thought.
Wait! No!
Ray was shooting at us!
This couldn't be happening.
This was crazy.
“Donny!” I yelled. My voice carried across the cliffs, sounding high and panicky. “Donny! Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Donny pulled up behind me, panting. “Keep running! Go!”
I raced along, tripping, falling, tumbling, too panicked to notice or care, thinking only of the gun pointed in my direction, waiting for the crack
of the trigger firing, the whistle of the bullet, the feel of it exploding into me, ending everything.
There was a
thunk
in the clay ahead of me, then another blast, and a bullet ricocheted off a nearby rock. I wanted to lie down and cover my head, but I knew I had to keep moving.
I could hear Donny still running right behind me. For all I knew, Ray was right behind
him
, closing in, waiting to get a clearer shot. My breath was coming in huge, rasping gulps and my legs felt wobbly from fear and fatigue, but I made myself run faster.
Finally, the steep slope of the cliffs gave way to flat, sandy beach. I ran down closer to the waterline, where I'd get a better foothold in the packed, wet sand, and kept running. I looked back just once and saw, to my relief, that Donny was still right behind me and there was no sign of Ray.
Did that mean we were safe? I didn't know. I had no idea of how far a gun could shoot, and no idea where Ray was.
Facing ahead once more, I thought I caught a glimpse of a light. Then again—yes, it was definitely a light—no, two lights. People were walking toward us, one with a flashlight and another holding a lantern. I heard voices. Probably fishermen.
Oh, thank you thank you thank you
, I thought.
Thank you
. But then along with relief came the thought: would Ray just shoot us all?
I could feel tears running down my face as I ran toward the light, and suddenly the beam was shining in my face and I stopped, gasping, blinded as Ray had been, and a familiar voice came out of the darkness.
“Ben?”
“Mom?”
“Ben! Thank goodness! Are you all right?”
I ran straight into Mom's outstretched arms and was about to let loose the sobs of fear that swelled in my chest. But Ray—and his gun—were still out there somewhere. Where was he? I grabbed the flashlight from Mom's hands and wheeled around to point it into the darkness.
Donny stood nearby, his breathing loud and ragged over the sound of the waves. I couldn't see anyone else, just the dark mounds of the dunes and the smooth sweep of sand stretching away into the areas beyond my torch's beam. Barry was with Mom, holding the lantern. The four of us stood for a moment, peering about uneasily.
“Shut off the lantern,” I said to Barry as I turned off the flashlight. Ray might be close, and we didn't have to make targets of ourselves.
“Ben, what's going on?” Mom's voice held an edge of terror. “I thought I heard
gunshots
.”
“I'll tell you later, Mom,” I said. “But right now, we've got to
go
. Come on,
hurry
.”
I wasn't used to giving orders and having people follow them, but there must have been something in my voice that made Mom and Barry understand that their questions had to wait. We raced the rest of the way up the beach, each of us stopping from time to time to look back. Mom and Barry didn't know what they were looking for, but Donny and I did, and that made our steps even quicker.
In the parking lot, we climbed into Barry's car, and he and Mom turned to me. “For heaven's sake, Ben. What's going on?”
I took a deep breath and replied, “Can we go right to the police station? I'll tell you everything there.”
At the station, Jeff's Uncle Cully was the desk sergeant on duty. As soon as he heard we'd been shot at, he called Chief Widdiss, who arrived within minutes. The chief made some calls, including one to Donny's mother, who showed up shortly afterward looking shaken and angry. He called the Mannings, too, and Jeff came with his parents. I could tell from Jeff's face that he was really scared.
A search was begun for Ray Nugent, whom, it turned out, the police had been watching for a long time. Ray had a drug-dealing record that went back to when he was fifteen. He'd already been convicted twice, done jail time, and been paroled. His new tactic had been to use young kids like Jeff and me to actually make the exchange so he could deny any involvement.
We didn't find out all that right away, though. First the chief said, “Tell me about what happened tonight,” and Donny and I began talking. It was a long time before we stopped.
Finally, the chief said we were finished for the night, but that there were going to be a lot more questions in the next couple of days. It was the district attorney's job to decide what charges would be brought against whom. That got me pretty nervous. But then the chief took Mom and me aside and said he thought Jeff and I might not get charged at all, because we hadn't known what was in the envelopes, because we were minors, and because I had come to him to tell what I knew.
I got the impression the chief considered Ray the really bad guy. Donny was kind of in the middle, and Jeff and I were just little fish, which was fine with me. Stupid little fish for sure. But at least we weren't treated like criminals.
The chief asked Donny a lot of questions about Ray and Cameron Maddox. Apparently, the coroner had said that the wound on Maddox's head had come from a blow at close range, probably from the butt of a gun. Ray was wanted for suspicion of murder, as well as for drug dealing.
I shuddered every time it hit me that I'd gotten myself involved in something so big and so bad. It had been so
easy
, too, to take the first little step, and then the next and the next.
News came from the searchers that it looked as though Ray had stolen a boat and headed for the mainland. Chief Widdiss jumped to his feet. He told us we could go home, and started bellowing orders to get the state police and the Coast Guard on the phone right away.
“We're going to find this guy,” he declared grimly as we left the station.
Donny and Jeff went home with their parents, and Mom, Barry, and I drove to our house in silence. Barry pulled into the driveway and said, “I'm going to leave and give you two a chance to talk this over.”
Mom and I got out, and we both thanked Barry. “I'll call you in the morning, Kate,” he said. “And, Ben, I'm glad you're safe.”
Mom and I went inside and sat down at the kitchen table, the place where we'd always had our “big talks.” Even though it was after midnight, I knew we weren't going to bed just yet. I was way too wired, anyway, and I could tell Mom had a lot more she wanted to say to me.
She poured me a glass of juice and boiled water for tea for herself. She began by saying, “Ben, I hardly know where to start. I find it hard to believe that all this has been going on, and I didn't know a thing about it.” She shook her head, fighting back tears. Finally she whispered, “Honey, why didn't you tell me?”
I already felt so awful about everything that had happened, and now I felt worse, seeing Mom cry. I sighed, and opened my mouth to try to explain. But before I could say anything, she went on. “Actually, I think I understand most of it. I can see how you wanted to protect Donny, and how one thing led to another. But what upsets me is that I suspect in some ways you were trying to protect
me
, along with Donny.”
Her eyes filled up and she wrapped her arms across her chest. “It's hard for me without your father, Ben, but you have to believe that I'm not going to fall apart at the first sign of trouble. You can count on me. You don't have to take on everything by yourself. Okay? Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mom,” I said. And I did. We were still learning how to get along without Pop, and we didn't always get it right.
“Not talking to me about your troubles is bad enough, Ben, but you lied to me. That's the worst of it. Lying can change everything between people. Do you see that?”
I nodded miserably, because I really did understand it—now. First Ray sucked Donny in; then Donny sucked Jeff and me in. Donny had lied to us more than once. I wasn't mad at him so much as at myself for believing his lies.
Mom's face looked tired under the kitchen light. “The most important thing is that you're alive. But, Ben, you've got some real hard thinking to do about why you let yourself get into this situation. I feel as though I've failed somehow, failed to teach you right from wrong. And when I think of how close you came—how much worse it could be—I—” Her face crumpled, and she turned away to pour hot water into her cup.
“I know,” I said, swallowing the big lump that had risen in my throat. “Mom? Don't cry, okay? None of this was your fault. It's just that—” How could I explain this? I struggled for words that would make clear all the things I'd figured out. Finally I said, “You know how there's a little voice inside you that tells you when you're messing up? I heard it. I mean, it was
there
, but I didn't listen to it. I knew I should speak up, say no, ask questions, all that—but I didn't. Because…”
I listed all the stupid reasons. “Because I thought Donny was cool and I wanted him to like me. Because I didn't want Jeff to think I was a weenie. Because I wanted to impress other kids from school by hanging around with Donny. Because I want a boat and a motor and stuff we can't afford. Because I let Donny convince me the rules are different for islanders and other people.” My voice trailed off, and I looked at Mom.
There was an odd expression on her face, a combination of anger, disappointment, love, and, I thought, even understanding. “Ben,” she said softly, “it's late. We'll talk more about this tomorrow.” Then she exclaimed suddenly, “Oh, my goodness! I forgot that you're working in the morning. After tonight, are you sure you should go?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I'm sure.” I didn't explain—and was suddenly too tired to explain—how much I wanted to go to work.
It felt like the only part of my life I hadn't messed up.

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