Storm Force Page 10

  Kate didn’t say anything, just kept that looping stitch going.

  “I’m not like these men,” Shane said. Somehow, it seemed important to say that and to let her know. And he was surprised to find that he even wanted her to believe him. He was different.

  “When you’re helping your friends hold us captive,” Kate said, “I don’t see a whole lot of difference.”

  Shane couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t. He just hoped he could find a way to get Raymond Jolly to let Kate and the wounded man go before Jolly decided to kill them. Shane had no doubt that Jolly would do exactly that if he had to.

  And Kate Garrett already seemed like trouble. Just enough to get herself killed. And maybe him with her.

  Less than an hour later, whipsawed by the wind, Kate rode in the back seat of the truck cab sandwiched between Deke Hannibal and Ernie Franks. From their conversation, she’d learned that they were cousins, and that Ernie was the career criminal while Deke was young and hadn’t even really taken part in the Desiree Martini kidnapping.

  Deke was young and sallow, shy and backward. He sat stiff as a board against Kate’s right side. Ernie was the heavy guy with an Elvis haircut and sideburns. While Deke was quiet, Ernie was a blusterer, always talking about jobs he’d done with Jolly or on his own. With everything he’d claimed to have done, Kate thought he’d have needed his own wall at the post office.

  Monte Carter, the man she’d knocked out with the Asp, sat in the front seat between Shane—who drove—and Jolly. Tyler, who was still unconscious, rode in the truck bed by himself. At least the tarp had been replaced and the rain was kept off him, but Kate knew he was taking a beating from the rough road.

  “When are we gonna go after the money?” Ernie asked after he’d finally stopped telling one gruesome story after another. Even Deke seemed a little put off by them.

  “Soon,” Jolly said. He kept flipping through the radio stations, trying to find one that would come in.

  Is that what this is about? Kate wondered. The missing ransom? Over the last few months, any number of treasure hunters, insurance agents, and law-enforcement officials had been out roaming Big Cypress Swamp looking for the ransom money. No one had ever turned up a thing. As far as anyone knew, the money was still sitting out there waiting to be found.

  Unless the rats or nutria had gotten to it. Or it had rotted, which sometimes happened in the southern Florida climate.

  “Man,” Ernie complained, “the whole time we were locked up, the only thing that got me through was the idea of that cool ten million waiting on us.” He absently stroked the barrel of the shotgun he held.

  “After all this time,” Shane said, “you can’t even be sure it’s still there.” He glanced up in the mirror, a mocking smile on his bruised and swollen lips.

  Kate took a little satisfaction in his looks. She was even more proud of the job she’d done on Monte Carter, who—Ernie had stated—looked like a reject from a freak show.

  “It’s still there,” Jolly said. “Don’t wind them up like that.”

  “Why wasn’t the money ever found?” Shane asked.

  “Because,” Ernie retorted sarcastically, “we hid it. Got a lot of things we hid. Even a few bodies over the years.”

  “Is that what happened to the heiress?” Shane asked. “What’s her name? Dierdre Something-or-Other?”

  “Desiree Martini,” Jolly said.

  “Why don’t you know her name?” Ernie asked. “It was all over the damn news.”

  “Because seven months ago I was finishing up a shot in Huntsville.”

  “That’s in Alabama, ain’t it?” Ernie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What were you in prison for?”

  “That time?” Shane shrugged. “Some damn thing or another.”

  That caught Jolly’s attention. “Most guys doing a stretch know what the stretch is for.” The menace was inherent in his tone.

  “Is it that important to you, Raymond?” Shane asked.

  “Yeah,” Jolly said. “It is.”

  Shrugging again, Shane said, “Receivership.”

  Kate vaguely knew that receivership had something to do with stolen properties. Some of the guys she’d interviewed for guide positions had had that on their applications. Plus, the charge was one that was on a lot of the guys she’d worked with on the construction sites.

  “PD detective in Mobile had a grudge against me,” Shane said. “Bastard planted evidence on me, took out a storage space in my name, and let me take the fall. I was in almost a year before my attorney got me out.”

  “Then you were in Everglades Correctional Institution,” Deke said.

  Shane gave the young convict a good-natured grin. “Took a fall for a drug shipment. I screwed that one up, trusted too big, and got nailed by an undercover policeman. One of the guys got killed. I took the long fall for a homicide. I wasn’t going to get out again. I’d just gotten out of Huntsville. Decided I’d try my luck here. The problem was, I was flat broke. Too eager to do business and not on my home turf.”

  “Why were you in Miami?” Jolly asked.

  “Because that’s where the action is,” Shane said, “and I was too well-known on my home turf. I had to get out of Mobile.”

  On the other side of the spiderweb of cracks running across the hole, torrential rain continued to batter the countryside. Two and a half hours into the storm, Genevieve didn’t look close to blowing herself out yet. Or to breaking apart.

  At the top of a rise, a radio station decided to come through. A faint voice issued through the speakers.

  “—in Everglades City and Broward County need to take precautions now,” the announcer was saying in a tense voice. “The United States Coast Guard has confirmed the existence of a thirty-foot storm surge that’s heading for the coast now. We’ve lost all contact with even the emergency agencies in that area. Genevieve is proving she has a few nasty surprises to show us, folks, and—”

  As Shane headed down into the lowlands on the other side of the rise, the radio signal faded out again.

  “Dammit!” Jolly hammered the dash with a big hand.

  “Did he say, ‘a thirty-foot storm surge’?” Deke asked in a small voice.

  “Yeah,” Ernie said. “Now don’t get your panties in a bunch. Them news people have habits of making things out worse’n they seem. Makes people keep listening.”

  A rumble, this one different than any the thunder had made so far, sounded off to the left.

  Even scared as she was, Kate was on the verge of going to sleep when she noticed it. She also thought the ground was vibrating, too, though she felt certain that was more from the lack of sleep than anything else.

  When she looked, leaning forward to see around Ernie, Kate couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A wall of water at least twenty feet high was rolling through across the land, barreling and crashing through the cypress trees. There was enough momentum behind the thousands of gallons of water that nothing stood before it. Genevieve had turned churning destruction loose on the land.

  And they were directly in its path.

  “Look!” Monte yelled, pointing at the storm surge.

  The water was moving fast, coming at them hard.

  “Drive!” Jolly ordered.

  Shane cut the wheel instantly, bringing the truck around in a mud-slinging one-hundred-eighty-degree turn as he tried to power back up the high ground. But it was too late.

  The wave hit them and lifted them from the road like a child’s toy.

  Chapter 7

  Water didn’t immediately flood the truck. The closed windows prevented that. But the truck sank all the same, and every second in a vehicle that had gone down under water counted against the survival rate. Kate knew that from stories she’d been told by her dad, who had salvaged sunken vehicles.

  Her first thought after the shocking realization that she was being tossed in a storm surge over twenty feet high was for Tyler Jordan. Her only hope was that the ta
rp over the truck bed had held and he was still with the vehicle, not lost somewhere out there in the floodwaters.

  As the truck turned over with surreal slowness, Kate unsnapped the seatbelt and pushed up. Several inches of water sloshed across the floor, then ran up the side of the truck cab and across the roof. Lights in the instrument panel flickered and shorted out.

  “Son of a bitch!” Ernie squalled. “We’re underwater!” He had his face pressed up against the window.

  Kate grabbed the sliding window that overlooked the truck bed. With the outside water pressure working against it, the sliding glass was hard to move. But she managed. As she opened it, water poured into the truck cab.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Ernie demanded, reaching for the window.

  Kate fought the man off, elbowing him in the face and drawing curses. Jolly pointed the pistol at her from the front seat. Water continued to cascade into the cab.

  “Stay in the truck and you’re going to die,” Kate shouted.

  “She’s right,” Shane said, rolling down the window and letting more water in. That seemed to act as a control for the truck, sending it down like a diving submarine. “We’ve got to get out now!”

  Kate caught the edges of the window and heaved herself through. Grabbing the tarp, aware that suddenly submerged trees were on all sides of her, she struggled to hang on. Then the truck hit a tree and spun sideways lazily in the water.

  Peeling the tarp back, she located Tyler by feel and hooked her fingers in his shirt. He floated up easily. Lightning flared across the sky and looked strange through the murky water. Kate tasted the salt of the ocean and felt it burning her eyes and nostrils.

  She held on to Tyler and grabbed an orange life vest from the toolbox. She never went anywhere without them. Too many fishing clients forgot them, or simply decided they didn’t need to wear them. The law required they wear them, and Kate kept them on hand to provide.

  Swimming strongly, Kate kicked for the surface, still struggling with the concept that this had once been dry land. The coastal areas had been underwater before. In 1960, Hurricane Donna had sent six-foot floodwaters four miles inland, well past where they were now. Andrew, Wilma, Charles and others had all slammed Florida over the years.

  But Kate had never seen anything like this outside of the levees breaking in New Orleans. If something like this hit Everglades City—

  She made herself not think about that. Steven and Hannah were there. The flooding only looks this bad because we’re so close to the coast and because we’re in a low area. She wanted desperately to believe that, but she knew her house was in a low area, too.

  Then she was above the water’s surface, glancing back toward the incoming tide in time to get hit with another cascade of water. Wind howled above the storm surge.

  If this isn’t a Category Five storm by now, Kate thought, they’re going to have to reinvent the scale.

  She held on to Tyler, feeling him slack and loose in her grip but feeling his breath warm on her cheek as well. Getting the life vest on over his head while keeping him afloat was hard work, but she managed. When it was in place, securely tied, she activated the compressed air cylinder and the vest filled almost instantly. As soon as the vest was inflated, a bright red light beacon activated, blinking to attract attention.

  “Hang in there, Tyler,” she told him. She wished she’d been able to grab a second vest. She was a strong swimmer, but there were several trees all around them that posed hidden dangers. If she got knocked unconscious or broke an arm or a leg, she could still drown.

  Holding on to Tyler, Kate rode the rush of water and steered toward a towering bald cypress. She caught hold of the tree and stopped their movement, anchoring them to the tree. Kate held on against the swirling rush of water. She didn’t know if she was calm or if her senses were just so overloaded that nothing made sense any more. But the panic felt removed from her, as if it was an alien thing that couldn’t touch her.

  Lights blinked in the dark sky. A moment later, Kate recognized the wasp-like shape of a helicopter. The aircraft jumped and jerked in the high winds, but the pilot had definite control as it scooted along just a few feet above the water.

  Working quickly, she held her breath and slipped underwater long enough to take the lace from one of Tyler’s boots. Surfacing again, she used the lace to tie Tyler to the tree through the metal rings on the life vest. In seconds, he was securely held and she could manage her own position with two hands.

  Looking out at the water, Kate wondered if Shane or Jolly or any of the others had survived. Then something grabbed her left foot, unleashing the panic that she’d been holding back.

  Her first thought was that an alligator had gotten hold of her. Fear thudded through her. She jerked her feet up, hoping that whatever it was would go away or get pushed along by the incoming water. Above, the helicopter had started to come in their direction. It was possible the pilot or the spotters had seen the blinking beacon on the back of Tyler’s life vest. She hoped so.

  A hand closed around her ankle. She knew what it was then. But before she could fight against it, the grip tightened and pulled her under. The current moved her along rapidly, whipping her through branches and against trees. Finally she grabbed a tree and climbed up, pulling herself out of the cold, churning water up to her waist.

  She coughed and choked for a moment, then looked around wildly for Tyler, spotting the life vest’s flashing beacon nearly a hundred yards away. She breathed a sigh of relief. The helicopter was a US Coast Guard Craft. It descended now, homing in on Tyler’s beacon.

  A hand clamped around her ankle again. Whoever had hold of her climbed her, hand over hand.

  Monte Carter surfaced behind Kate, spitting water as lightning blazed overhead, wrapping an arm around her neck and jamming his forearm up under her chin. Kate didn’t have the strength to fight him and try to stay out of the water. Panic kept her fingers locked around the branch. Then he grinned at her, his face lumpy with swelling and bruises.

  “Hey, bitch,” he snarled, leaning in close so the stink of his breath flooded her nostrils. “Guess who’s about to get hers?” He grabbed her head in one meaty hand and shoved her under the water.

  Kate tried to get free but he had a fist knotted up in her hair. Then she remembered the big hunting blade he carried on his hip. She felt around his waist and found the handle, having to work by touch in the darkness.

  She pulled the knife free and shoved it in the closest lethal direction—between his thighs. Turning the edge sideways, she cut deeply into the inside of his thigh. The blade grated against bone, letting her know she’d sliced through the femoral artery where it lay along the inside of the bone. That deep, she couldn’t have missed.

  Monte Carter was a ticking time bomb, a dead man waiting to happen. With the femoral artery cut, he would bleed out in less time than it would take her to drown. She could already feel his grip weakening and wondered if he knew he was dying. In the cold water, he might not have even recognized the knife slash.

  Lightning flickered again, and when it did Kate saw a shadow swim through the water above her. It seized Carter around the neck and wrapped its legs around the man’s waist.

  Carter released Kate and concentrated on his newest opponent, flailing with his fist as he fought to stay above the roiling sea. Kate swam up and sucked in a breath, holding on to a tree limb as she watched Shane grab Carter’s forehead in one hand and his chin in the other. Then, with a sudden wrench, Shane snapped the big man’s neck, separating the skull from the spine the way hunters did to end the suffering of an animal they’d found in a trap or had shot but didn’t immediately kill.

  As Carter died and went limp, Shane grabbed the tree. He looked after the big man’s corpse as it floated away. Kate was surprised to see sadness in Shane’s eyes. He had killed without mercy, but not without regret.

  The rotor wash of the helicopter overcame the sound of the storm for a moment. As Kate watched, a Coast Guardsman
came down in a rescue basket right beside Tyler and started shifting him aboard.

  Kate released her hold on the tree and swam, driving herself through the storm surge. She didn’t know if she had enough strength to reach the helicopter, but she intended to try. She shouted out to be heard. “Over here! Over here!” but knew that her voice couldn’t possibly overcome the helicopter’s own noise or the fact that the Coast Guard team would be wearing helmets.

  “No.” Shane caught her foot, stopping her progress.

  Kate flipped over and kicked at him with her other foot, scoring on his already battered face and snapping his head back.

  He cursed in pain but didn’t let go. Kate bent at the waist, lifted the knife and prepared to plunge it into Shane’s chest. She hesitated for just a moment, remembering how he had helped her with Tyler.

  Then Kate felt cold metal press against the base of her skull and a much larger body bump into hers.

  “Drop the knife, Ms. Garrett,” Jolly whispered into her ear. He wrapped an arm over her breasts and held on tight.

  Stubbornly, Kate held on to the knife for a moment. She stared straight at Shane, who was only then recovering from the kicks she’d administered.

  “If you don’t drop the knife,” Jolly whispered in her ear, “I’m going to blow your brains out in one big, fat puddle.”

  “He means it, Kate,” Shane said. Lightning flickered in his hazel eyes as he implored her. “Drop the knife. Please.”

  Jolly shook Kate roughly. “One wrong move,” he declared, “and you’re dead right here.”

  Slowly, Kate released her hold on the knife. Little more than a hundred yards away, the Coast Guard helicopter reeled the rescue basket back in. The chopper hung in the wind for a moment, swaying wildly from side to side, then began searching the area with spotlights. Kate wished that it had a FLIR, a Forward-Looking Infrared Searchlight that could read body heat in the cold seawater.