Turtle Island (41 page)

Fortune unfolded a knife. The blade dirty and rusted and
proceeded to slash through the duck tape holding Rick to the seat.
Montoya’s body slumped forward and splashed into the water face
down. Fortune dragged the chair sideways and sat next to
Jo-Lynn.

‘Let me tell you about your husband.’

‘Please help him.’ Though she despised the thought of what he
had done, part of Jo-Lynn was still struggling to accept what
Prentice Fortune had told her as being the truth.

‘We’ll see…the more you interrupt, the longer this will take.
The longer this will take, the longer Ricky boy drinks sewerage. By
the time I am finished telling you all about your adorable husband
though, I am sure that you will want me to kill him anyway. Hell,
you’ll want to kill him yourself.’

The sight of the helicopter landing in the middle of the
street induced a mixture of curiosity, excitement and panic.
Georgina barely waited for it to touch down before her feet were
running along the road to 14162 Harpenders Grove. Leroy followed,
puffing slightly as he fought to catch up. Narla was already
waiting at the door, an anxious look embedded on her face. Georgina
made it to the door ahead of Leroy.

‘Where is she?’

Narla nodded with her head, indicating upstairs. As Georgina
passed, Narla turned

‘She'll only tell you, she won't even tell me.’

‘Looks like I'll sit this one out.’ Leroy said, watching
Georgina take two stairs at a time.

‘Coffee, Mr LaPortiere?’ Narla asked, then added. ‘It's
already brewed.’

‘That would be fine.’

‘How do you like it?’

‘Sweet and white.’ Leroy replied.

‘Don't tell me; just like your women.’ Narla joked, she didn't
know why she joked; she certainly didn't feel funny.

Georgina grasped the handle to the bedroom door and pushed it
open. The sound of a printer continuously working was audible just
above a CD, which was playing through the speakers of Harley's
computer, where she was sitting. Kelly Clarkson was going through
another therapy session. The computer screen was on and Georgina
didn't need to guess what the image flickering on the small monitor
was.

Harley didn't turn. ‘104 Headbridge. It's a mile or so upriver
from the three bridges. The house is an old wooden constructed
colonial style.’ She leaned forward and clicked her mouse. The
image on the screen changed and the house appeared. Georgina moved
closer ‘What...Where did you get this?’ She was dumbfounded and for
a moment her legs felt leaden, then her heart started pumping as
adrenaline began to surge through her.

‘I found it in a folder marked homework, except I knew it
wasn't mine. It wasn’t even on this computer it was on a web based
online storage account. I tried all of the names listed with
various e-mail web based accounts. Dad wasn’t too imaginative about
the password…Harley. Guess he thought no one would ever find
it.’

Georgina sat beside the young girl. ‘What else is in
there?’

‘You know, I remember the house. My father took me there, a
couple of times, we were always at different places, different
houses he had on the market, usually furnished though, but I
remember this one because it was empty, except for bed and a few
other things..’ Harley closed her eyes to recollect. ‘There was a
load of cameras, videos…you know.’

Georgina put her arm around the fragile child. Harley clicked
on the image and the live feed to Jo-Lynn returned.

‘That's a flood chamber. It's at the back of the house but
connected by stairs, first to the basement then directly into the
house.’ The noise of the printer suddenly stopped. Harley stood and
walked over to the tray by the printer and collected a pile of
printouts. She rearranged the order, tapped them into a neat pile
before sliding them into a bright fluorescent orange folder and
then handed them to Georgina.

‘Catch them.’ She looked pleadingly. ‘Please.’

‘What's in here?’

‘Everything I could find.’ Harley looked sad. The hidden
emotion was drawing to the surface, the turmoil of abuse and
victimisation, the indignity and suffocation of her childhood.
Georgina flipped open the folder. She sat back on the bed so that
she was eye level with the young girl.

‘Sometimes I knew that the things they were doing to me was
wrong. Daddy always said that they would stop if they hurt me…but
they never did and after a while it kinda felt funny.’

Georgina held her breath. The silence in the room
echoed.

‘Was it wrong?’ Harley asked, confusion written across her
face. ‘Was it wrong to sometimes like the feeling?’

Georgina placed her arm around Harley’s shoulder and pulled
her closer to her and hugged her. She couldn’t look into Harley’s
eyes for fear of breaking down. ‘No…of course it wasn’t, you must
never think that.’

Photographs, pictures that she had never seen before; faces.
Faces she recognised. Ordinary people, vile people. Georgina
shivered. She was leaving the bedroom and running down the stairs.
As she reached the foot of the stairs, Narla was handing a cup of
coffee to Leroy.

‘No time, Leroy. Gotta go, now.’ She took the cup from his
grasp and placed it down on the floor.

‘Where to?’ He asked.

‘I need the quickest way to Headbridge.’ She looked down the
road but the helicopter was gone. ‘Shit!’

Narla raced to her jacket hanging in the hall. ‘Here take my
Jeep, it's parked in the garage.’

Georgina didn't need a second invitation and snatched the keys
from Narla's hand.

‘Press the remote.’ Narla called after them. ‘It operates the
garage door.’

As she ran, Georgina depressed the tiny black button attached
to the key fob. Within seconds they were safely inside the vehicle
with the engine roaring to life. Georgina screeched out of the
garage, with Leroy holding on to the dash to steady
himself.

‘Be careful…it’s new.’ Narla vainly called after them. Knowing
that they would never hear.

After a few seconds racing along the highway, Georgina took
the folder off her lap and handed it too Leroy.

‘Seems there was a lot more on Harley's computer that we first
thought.’

Leroy opened the brightly coloured folder. His stomach turned
but this time it was to do with Georgina's driving.

‘Have you a weapon?’ She asked crunching the gears as her foot
prematurely disengaged the clutch.

Leroy patted his side. ‘Browning.’

‘Browning?’ Georgina said surprised

‘It's not regulation issue. It’s for my own personal
protection. You?’ Leroy enquired.

‘Berretta. It’s back at the motel in the safe.’

‘Oh, fine.’

‘I know. I meant to pick it up.’

Leroy looked at the clock on the dash. ‘Is that thing
right?’

Georgina glanced. ‘Fuck’ She stepped harder on the gas pedal.
‘Fifty-five minutes. How much further?’

‘About five minutes to Independence Bridge, then another
eight, maybe ten minutes, that's if everything is clear.’ Leroy
answered, remembering back to the chaos of the crashed lorry and
the gridlock of vehicles.

The RV4 accelerated, pressing both Georgina and Leroy back
further into their seats.

Leroy took out his phone. ‘I call ahead, see if it’s
clear.’

‘You can't.’ Georgina stressed. ‘Open the folder.’

The photograph was not printed in the best quality, but the
image was well defined and in focus, there could be no disputing
who the man with Harley was, the balding head, slightly ruddy
complexion, puffy overweight face and neck. Leroy knew Norman
Frusco at a glance, the picture would have to have been a hell of a
lot more unclear for there to have been even one grain of
uncertainty.

‘Looks like we're on our own.’ Georgina could see the iron
framework of the bridge, half a mile or so away, down the straight
road.

The rain was now beginning to fill the sides of the road and
in one or two uneven places was forming in larger pools that coved
the expanse of tar macadam. The wipers continually cleared the
windscreen but the left one seemed to smear more than clear. Red
taillights ahead suggested traffic. Georgina prayed that it wasn't
still the congestion from earlier. As they drew nearer the reality
became an alternative scenario that she didn't want to think about.
Leroy saw the flashing light. The deputy was standing in the centre
of the road wearing a waterproof cagoule that unlike the officer,
appeared to have failed in its duty. He was swinging his torch from
left to right slowing all the cars crossing Independence
Bridge.

‘What we gonna do?’ Georgina asked as they neared the tail
back. There were five cars ahead in the line before it was their
turn.

‘I dunno.’ Leroy said, and then added. ‘Keep cool. Hopefully
Frusco doesn’t know what sort of car to look for.’

‘No, but there won't be many cars out here with a black guy
and a white girl.’

‘Okay…okay.’

The last stationary vehicle; a silver Toyota Celica was now
fifty yards ahead of Georgina.

‘Think fast, Leroy, think fast.’

‘You know I thought you would appreciate the irony of it all.’
Prentice Fortune whispered in her ear. The breath from his lips
clouded as a fine mist in the cool damp atmosphere. Jo-Lynn could
feel the warm air caress her ear. Her spine retracted in an
involuntary spasm, ending a shiver through her bones. This was the
only confirmation to her that she was still alive; any sense of
feeling in her body had been numbed by the freezing cold water,
there was no space for emotion anymore in her mind, all that was
left there was a vacuous hollow and resignation that she was going
to die after all she had been through; her life was going to end in
a flooded basement. The water covered her chest and was beginning
to move up her arms toward her shoulders.

‘What does it feel like to know that your husband used to rent
out your little girl, your pride and joy. Did he come home to you
after energised and give you something to remember. Well, he gave
me something to remember when he killed my girlfriend. Sweet as
honey, but Ricky boy killed her, killed Jordan too. One mad moment,
one rush of blood.’

‘Let me go please, I’ll do anything you want.’ Jo-Lynn did not
want to hear any more of his corruption.

‘Don’t flatter yourself honey. You look like shit, you smell
like shit and your way too old. You know you really shouldn't have
tried to run away. I was going to make it quick, spare the pain.
Give my viewers a bit of an adrenaline rush. But now…’ He sighed as
though the effort of completing the sentence was too much. ‘Now I
think, sloooooowly is the order of the day. What do you think?’ His
hand moved around to his back. Jo-Lynn heard the scrape of metal as
he withdrew a different knife from a sheath, it rubbed against the
leather housing it was encased in. The knife was long, about 11 to
12 inches from tip to butt and the teeth serrated, almost barbed.
The blade edge was extremely thin, around two inches across the
width at the widest point.

‘A cut here, a cut there. I would imagine that the blood going
into the water should get the rats into quite a frenzy. If you are
extremely lucky I may get heavy handed, or too excited, if not…I'm
sure the rats will finish you off…eventually.’ He grinned. Perfect
teeth, white, straight, and no gaps.

Jo-Lynn's eyes widened. She wanted to rise to the bait but the
glint from the knife disturbed some sub-conscious desire for
survival that even now existed when hope was all but
gone.

‘I wonder if you taste as good as Jordan did?’ Prentice
Fortune’s tongue slithered out and ran a trail of wetness across
her cheek. ‘Ooh, not too fresh.’ He mocked in a camp
tone.

‘Come on Leroy, we're getting closer. Any minute now and
they'll be able to see in.’

Leroy crouched down in the rear foot well. Georgina
desperately tried to cover him with a picnic blanket that she found
lying on the rear parcel shelf. She started to slow the car as the
policeman played god, beckoning some cars through and asking others
to pull over to the side. Leroy's hand wrestled his pistol from its
holster, just in case.

‘Come on, come on. Let us through.’ Georgina was biting her
pinched lips. She could see the policeman’s rain splattered
features through the darkening evening gloom. He looked about as
pissed with the detail as he could possibly be. Georgina hated
herself for doing it but she unbuttoned her blouse by three buttons
and stretched open the material to expose a little bargaining
power. She was loathed to think that most difficult situations
could be resolved with the flash of a pert breast but where men
were concerned, especially dumb asses standing in the pissing rain
on a no win duty, it appeared to be a fact of life. She stopped the
car and wound down the window. It was an officer that she hadn't
seen before.

‘Excuse me, ma’am.’ The dumb ass shouted above the rain and
the noise from the car engine. ‘Can I ask where you are
heading?’