Red Rum: A Rosie Casket Mystery R.M. Wild (inspirational books .txt) đź“–
- Author: R.M. Wild
Book online «Red Rum: A Rosie Casket Mystery R.M. Wild (inspirational books .txt) 📖». Author R.M. Wild
Before I could ask him to clarify, bars of faint, white light swept across the floor. Headlights. A car was back, its beams muted by the fog.
“Where is my sister?”
“I don’t know your sister.”
“Don’t lie. Every boy in high school new my sister.”
“Not me!”
I glanced at the beams of light. I had to get back to the cabin. If Kendall found me down here, he’d never let me go.
I raised the rag to put it back in his mouth.
“No, no. Do not leave me here!”
I didn’t say I was sorry, I just shoved the rag into his mouth and tied it behind his head. He thrashed and put all his body into breaking away from the support column and the hooved feet stomped on the floor, shaking the whole shack.
I backed away and then turned and ran for the door. I kicked it open and ran three steps through the dark mist and jumped into the water. My body had dried enough that the cold was a shock again, but I ignored it and swam as hard as I could for the headlights. They were getting larger, stronger, and Kendall was close to parking.
I kicked as hard as I could, the fog hiding my splashes. Ahead, the crooked edge of the dock jutted toward me in the mist. Up the hill, the headlights had stopped growing and moving and were still, firing off into the distance above my head.
I paused and treaded water. Then the headlights shut off and I could hear the faint sound of the car door opening and closing.
I was too late. A dark figure, hazy in the fog, crossed the driveway and entered the main cabin and the lights turned on. I couldn’t tell if it was Kendall or someone else.
I kept treading, not sure what to do or where to go. If that figure was indeed Kendall, it would only be a matter of minutes before he realized where I had gone.
But if it wasn’t Kendall…
Through the haze, I could see the lights in the various rooms turn on, one after another, as the motion sensors tracked the figure’s path.
Whoever it was, was looking for me.
I kept treading. Something brushed past my leg. Then another thing. I bobbed up and down and tried to breathe steadily, tried not to think about the slimy things gathering around my legs.
An idea. A single chance. While the figure was in the cabin looking for me, I could run for the basement, grab a drill and a screwdriver and get that car started.
It would take a miracle.
But right now, a miracle was my only bet.
I swam hard for the dock.
43
The underwater vegetation felt like demon claws reaching up from the underworld and grabbing ahold of my legs and trying to pull me down. I twirled and kicked, trying to get my legs loose. I twisted onto my back, gave a hard downward kick with my heel, and then squirmed free and swam for the dock.
I put a hand up on the slimy wood and was kicking to squirm myself up onto the dock when a beam of light blasted from the main cabin. It waved back and forth and cut through the fog.
A flashlight.
“Rosemary Casket! Where in the devil’s name are you?”
It was Kendall. The light cut a bouncing beam as he marched down the hill, straight for the dock.
The light pointed at me and I slid back down into the water, hiding beneath the edge of the dock.
“Rosemary!”
He stomped across the dock, the whole structure shuddering above my head. I held my breath and slipped underwater, the seaweed scratchy on my face, my feet touching the soft bottom and then sinking. The mud pulled me under, my feet stuck.
“I know you’re down there! I saw your fingers!”
I struggled. The bottom of the lake was like quicksand. There was nothing to push off, no rocks, no nothing. The harder I pushed, the deeper the muck sucked me down. I thrashed and flailed, the bubbles escaping my lips and boiling the surface.
Suddenly, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me up. He dragged me onto the dock and rolled me over.
“Didn’t I tell you!” he shouted, saliva flinging from his lips. “It’s dangerous down here! I told you to stay away!”
I shivered, my hair clinging to the side of my face, my jeans covered with slime. He pulled off my glasses, wiped them on his sleeve, and then put them back on my face.
“I thought we had a deal.”
“We did,” I managed.
“Then why were you trying to escape?”
“I wasn’t. I came down here for a walk.”
“In the rain?”
“I-I needed to clear my head. I came down, but the dock was slippery and I fell in.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Nothing?”
“No. I want to sign the papers. Can we sign the papers and be done with this?”
He looked at me suspiciously and then helped me to my feet. “You’re shivering. Let’s get you back inside.”
Not caring if his expensive suit got covered in slime, he put an arm around me to keep me warm and helped me climb the hill back to the main cabin.
Once inside, he sat me down at the table.
“You look like a mess,” he said.
Two briefcases sat on the table. On the counter, was another bottle of Red Rum.
He poured two shot glasses. The rum was so thick and red it looked like tomato juice.
“This will help you warm up,” he said and set the glass in front of me. “Drink.”
It was false comfort. “Where’s the money?”
“Right here,” he said and patted the second briefcase. He opened it and showed me. It was full of stacks of money, all crisp. “I had to beg my client to get the money upfront. And I don’t like to beg. But it’s all over now. He agreed and it’s settled,” he said. He took a pen from his pocket and rolled it toward me. Then he opened the first briefcase, pulled
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