Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 01 - Wendy and the Lost Boys Page 8

  “Why go ashore?” I checked my watch. “Where’s Kit?”

  “Wendy, stay cool. Dale’s holding Kit as hostage. You have to go. Hook wants you with us so Croc won’t turn him in.” Jaxbee grabbed my arms. “Dale is ruthless and homophobic. He’d have no problem cutting off Kit’s eyelids and throwing him overboard. He’s that kind of wacko.”

  The coppery taste of fear shot into my mouth. Kit was the nicest, kindest person. He’d put his life out there for me.

  She patted my hand. “Hook holds all the cards. If you push him, he’ll have your friend killed. All he can think about is the treasure.”

  “We’re going to Savannah for treasure?”

  “The artifacts Croc was trying to find on the Predator.”

  I shook loose from her grip and threw the pirate garb at her.

  She squared off with me. “The first rule is to never argue with drunks or crazy people. Hook’s not drunk, but he’s so obsessed he’s certifiable. Get dressed and meet me on the bridge. Shower first. If you have any lotion or perfume on, the mosquitoes will eat you alive.”

  She might be right, but I was going to have it my way. I locked the door and braced a chair against it. I showered, sprayed myself with bug repellant and then dressed in the buccaneer outfit. I put Peter’s locket on for luck. A glimpse in the mirror told me what I already knew. I looked like an idiot. The mosquitoes were going to have me for dinner. They’re drawn to black. Why couldn’t I be a pastel pirate?

  It was dark by the time I approached the bridge. The sound of helicopters drawing closer was like background music from a war movie. Right now we were invisible, but at any moment someone could flip the cloaking switch on the Predator and we’d be exposed to the Black Hawks, the Coast Guard, and all sorts of creepy crawlies.

  Strings of tiny lights lined the yacht’s walkways and stairs. I kept my right hand on the railing and clutched a flashlight in my left as I followed the little glowing beads. Anything could go wrong and probably would. I was so worried about Kit. I hated the thought of him being in the hands of that evil Dale.

  When I got to the bridge, Hook was at the wheel standing next to Jaxbee. They looked like two extras from a low-budget Mutiny on the Bounty. “Where’s Kit?” I asked. “I’m not going anywhere unless and until I know he’s safe.”

  “Pipe down. Mr. Happy Face is being well cared for. He’s my guarantee you’ll behave. What you need to hope is that if Croc follows us, you can stop him. That is, if you want Kit to live to see his next birthday.”

  “I see Kit or I don’t budge.”

  Hook pulled me to him and attempted to grope my butt. Slamming him with an upper cut, I could hear his perfectly capped teeth grind.

  “You’re turning me on,” he said.

  “Cop one more feel and I’ll turn you off permanently.”

  “I like it when you talk tough.” He looked aroused.

  Jaxbee shook her head and walked to the tender’s bow fussing with the lines.

  “Kit. Now. Or I’ll walk myself down the plank.” I said.

  Hook shrugged. “Get her boyfriend,” he told a crewman.

  Two minutes later Kit was at my side. “You look ridiculous in that tacky pirate outfit,” he said.

  “I love you, too.” I hugged him and whispered, “I need you to stay here. You have to be a hostage. Sorry big guy. I promise I will come back for you. And then we’ll catch Marni’s killer.”

  “What about world peace? Let’s take that on, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was time to go aboard the Nibs. Jaxbee and Dale were huddled in somber conversation at the helm of the Predator. She took the key to the cloaking device from her neck and handed it to him. Then she turned to Hook and me. “The anchor’s down and the Nibs is in the launch position.” She nodded toward a lanky crewman, “Slightly will come with us and bring the Nibs back.”

  That alarmed me. “Wait… we’re going to be dumped on shore?”

  “We’re heading for the Savannah River and then on to the city of Savannah. We have another boat waiting for us there.”

  “Enough! Wendy doesn’t need to know anything,” Hook said.

  “I’m in charge of this operation,” Jaxbee snapped. Her golden curls were tied up with a navy bandana; she was wearing a short, black skirt over jeans, and a black sweatshirt. She reminded me of an angry pixie.

  “We have to return here with the truck in exactly forty-eight hours. That means every member of my team needs to know exactly what’s expected of him or her.” She stood toe-to-toe with Hook. He backed down.

  Turning to me, Jaxbee said, “There’s a pirate festival underway on Tybee Island. Once we get through the marsh outside Tybee, we’ll have to whip through a couple of hundred drunken buccaneers. Just keep your head and Kit will be fine.”

  I almost hated her at that moment.

  I glared at Hook and said, “If anything happens to Kit I swear by every penny you’ve swindled I will kill you!”

  A seagull flew across the bow. Tinkerbelle barked and leaped after the bird, coming within a smidge of going overboard. Kit raced after her. As he scooped her in his arms he kept running, hit the spiral staircase, and disappeared below deck. Dale gave chase.

  “I’m not going unless I know Kit’s safe.”

  “Dale’s under orders not to harm him unless he hears from me,” Hook said. “Get going!”

  Jaxbee, Hook, and I made our way to the stern. The sub was in dry dock on overhead rails. The Nibs was in place on the launch, which opened from a watertight hydraulic wall. The tender was almost thirty feet long with a small wheelhouse. Dark brown, it would blend with the river marshes and keep us from getting shot.

  I was wearing Sketchers with rough soles, but still I slipped and slid like a baby seal. Crewman Slightly grabbed me and held me until I was secure on the boarding ramp. Someone was already sitting in the tender.

  “There’s my doctor,” Hook said with relief.

  Roger turned around and smiled. He was wearing a headscarf, a blousy white shirt, leather vest, a penciled-on mustache, and those brown wingtip shoes. He stood to help me. I dodged his grip. I hadn’t forgiven him for his prank, even if he did look like Johnny Depp. How dare he leave me alone with Hook and his UpUGo.

  We took our seats in the wheelhouse. Slightly was at the controls, Jaxbee and Hook next to him. The five of us were embarking on the strangest ride yet in the Charlie Hook amusement park.

  With a rush of water and the sound of a vacuum seal being broken, the hatch filled with murky water. The tender slipped into the sea with a gentle rock and silently moved away from the mother ship. I looked back at the Predator. For a fraction of a second it was visible and then it was gone. How would we find it on our return? As I watched Jaxbee’s face, all concern and concentration, I was sure she hadn’t left it to chance.

  I stuffed the plume hat under my butt and lay back looking at the stars. This was not the journey I had planned when I told my secretary I’d be gone for a few days.

  The night was silent except for the muffled sound of the engines. The quietude intensified my anxiety. A bug flew down my throat. I coughed and the sound bounced off the water.

  Tybee Island was a soup of salt marsh and mosquitoes. The water was bejeweled with reflected stars, inky, and still. Twice Black Hawk helicopters flew over. Both times Hook pretended to be fussing with the Yamaha outboards, his head down, away from the spy cameras. I kept my eyes heavenward, thinking maybe Marni was watching us.

  As we got closer to Tybee, bugs attacked. Little airborne vampires, they bit everywhere. My vision was blurred as I rubbed my eyes forgetting I had insect repellant on my hands. I heard the sounds of smacking as my boat mates whacked away at their tormentors. These were super-bugs, resistant to repellant. Approaching silently was going to be a challenge.

  We lurked off the coast until we saw two small craft carrying partying buccaneers. Their voices were loud and happy. They sounded as if they’d had their share of rum.
We joined them with a wave and fake laughter, swept up in the pretend pirate raid.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We were to scurry up the Savannah River unnoticed, but things don’t usually go as planned. A small Coast Guard boat followed us into Tybee, insinuating itself into our movements. I figured they couldn’t resist the sight of two blondes in a boat.

  One of the motors on the Nibs hesitated, shuddered, and then conked out. We docked near some tiki torches and Jaxbee went to work on the Yamaha.

  She motioned me to come close. “We’re being watched. Take Hook for a walk. I’ll keep these guys busy.” Two Guardies approached. “Need help?”

  Jaxbee morphed into a helpless girl as she batted her eyes. “This motor’s being a beast.”

  The uniforms bent to look at the outboard. Jaxbee flagged me away. Hook, Roger, Slightly, and I went for a stroll on the dock acting as if we had nothing better to do. “Something sure smells good.” Roger sniffed the air like a hound dog. “Wendy, would you like me to get you something to eat?”

  “No thanks. Please try not to stand out.” I looked down at his brown wingtips and cringed.

  We’d only gone a short distance when a boozing gang of pretend pirates crashed into us. One grabbed me round the waist and did a lumbering polka. When I pulled away, he forced his lips on mine. His breath was a lethal combination of onions and salami. Caught off balance, I tumbled to the ground. The pirate reached to help me. As I was putting all my weight on his shoulder, I felt something yank at my neck. My necklace! It was gone. He’d run off with my Peter Payne locket.

  Roger struggled through the crowd. “Are you okay?”

  “My necklace was stolen.” I clutched at my throat as if it might reappear. “That fake buccaneer took it. I’ve been mugged.”

  “I’ll get him!”

  “Forget it!” Hook said. “It’s a piece of crap jewelry. Don’t draw any attention to us.”

  “Let it go,” I whispered to Roger. “Not worth it.”

  I hate drunken parties, and this was just the foreplay. We still had to deal with the main pirate celebration in Savannah.

  “Let’s check on Jaxbee,” Hook growled.

  “The Coasties should be clear by now!” I chirped.

  Hook glared at me as the four of us elbowed our way to the tender.

  Jax sat in the wheelhouse. “We’re back in business. Hook, stay low. Wendy, stand here and watch what I do. Should something happen to me I want you to be able to take over.”

  “Please don’t say that. That’s what Marni said before she died.”

  As we pulled away from the beach, the air lay heavy with a mix of fuel and fried foods. Leaving a plastic party culture in our wake, we were going back in time to prehistoric settings where giant cypress trees hugged swampy shores and dinosaurs once fed.

  A gator head slipped past the side of the boat, and what seemed like minutes later the tip of his tail surfaced. Big and evil. Kin to Charlie Hook. The moon’s glow revealed more slithery backs, grunting in reptile mating. Eight miles of river before we hit Savannah. If I was going to solve Marni’s murder, it was time to get Hook to open up.

  The scam king was sitting at the foot of the wheelhouse staring at his bare feet. He appeared to be deep in thought.

  “Mind if I sit? I’d just like to talk.”

  He looked at me through dead lizard eyes. Hollow and passionless. “So you’re ready to stop playing hard to get?”

  Grabbing a life preserver, I placed it between us and leaned on it. I reached for a canvas tarp and wrapped it around me to keep the bugs off.

  We sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “How’s the erection problem?” I asked by way of small talk.

  “You think it’s so damn funny. It’s not. It hurts.”

  “The commercials say it shouldn’t last longer than four hours. What did you use? Industrial strength?”

  “UpUGo is supposed to be the best.”

  “Only the best for a psychopath.” The words slipped before I had a chance to catch myself.

  “What does that really mean?”

  I drew the tarp closer around me as a shiver set into my spine. “It means you have no conscience, no feelings of guilt or remorse, no concern for the well-being of others, even family or friends. You feel no shame no matter what immoral thing you’ve done.” Damn, I wouldn’t get him to open up if I couldn’t control my mouth.

  He shrugged. “I guess that’s me. What of it?”

  It was like talking to a black hole.

  He didn’t look at me when he finally spoke. “Everything in life is win or lose. The only way I can win is if everyone else loses. If that’s a psychopath, then that’s me.”

  As much as I wanted to argue the point, I didn’t interrupt.

  “I pulled off the greatest act in my life and no one admires my work.”

  A large water snake slithered alongside the tender slipping under the boat. I worried about it jumping in the boat with us.

  “I demolished all those Ivy League smart asses with my tenth grade education. If you understand human nature you can play folks like a fiddle.”

  Listening to him boast was nauseating.

  He took a deep breath and continued, “People are so willing to cooperate. And that’s where you can get them with silly psychological games.”

  “Like what?” I asked to keep him talking.

  “Here’s one of my favorites.” He flashed a crooked grin. “The SEC auditor would come twice every quarter. By law we had to give him access to our books.” He laughed a snarky laugh. “There was a janitor’s closet near my office. We cleared out the space and put in a small desk and an overhead bulb. There was no ventilation.”

  I pulled the tarp closer. The mosquitoes were chewing on me as if I were their last meal.

  “We hung a sign on the closet… ‘This door must remain closed at all times.’ Regular as a Rolex, the auditor would come and sit his big body at the desk, in the closet. A few hours later, dripping in sweat, he would leave.” Hook laughed. “They never found any irregularities. We never had an auditor last longer than two hours. Never ballsy enough to ask for another room. People are afraid to break rules even if they make no sense. And most working dolts want to please the filthy rich… me.”

  He put his hands on his side of the life preserver. “What do I want? My needs are simple. I want someone with me for the rest of my adventure. My big plans are no fun without a special someone who appreciates the risks I’m taking. Someone who gets me.”

  I couldn’t play any longer. It was a waste of my time, and I felt slimed just talking to him. “That someone isn’t me. You’re a dangerous man. Somebody is going to take you out.” I stood up and pushed the life preserver. “Here, you might need this. You’ve got a good place to hang it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jaxbee leaned over from the wheelhouse and called to us. “We should be hitting the Intracoastal in about five minutes.”

  We were surrounded by black water and bald cypress trees. An otter the size of a calf swam alongside the boat. And there were turtles, tons of turtles.

  “To the right there!” Hook said. “See the light? Wait until it blinks again.”

  “This is not part of the plan,” Jaxbee yelled at him.

  “Quiet! Pull in slowly. Idle the engines and drift in. Bump them only if you have to. Nobody make a sound,” Hook said.

  The water around us was creepy silent. Far in the distance I could see bright lights and orange haze. That must be Savannah. We were coming to shore short of our destination. The boat glided through the marsh.

  Hook pulled a flashlight from his pocket and blinked it three times. The beam on the shore returned two blinks. “Pull in to the clearing by that big dead tree.”

  Crewman Slightly guided the boat alongside a huge stump.

  An airboat waited in the darkness.

  A man about Hook’s size and build greeted hi
m with a hug as he stepped from the tender.

  “Brother,” the stranger said.

  “Joseph.” Hook returned the hug. It seemed weird to see the Ponzi pirate being affectionate.

  I stood by Jaxbee hoping she’d clue me in. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered.

  “Everybody onto the airboat,” Hook ordered as he stepped over and edged past the huge fan. He stood on the bow of what amounted to an engine mounted on a super-wide surfboard.

  I climbed on board the airboat followed by Jaxbee and Roger.

  “Slightly, take the Nibs back to the Predator. No stops,” Hook said.

  “Yes sir!” the crewman saluted as he put the tender in reverse.

  I climbed onboard the airboat, followed by Jaxbee and Roger.

  Joseph pointed out the safe seats.

  We each took an edge as there were no sides. I sat cross-legged, teetering on the wooden platform and gripping the board beneath me. As my fingers touched the water, I prayed no gators munched my digits. I felt rough wood cutting through my pirate pants and private parts.

  “Hold on and don’t let go. Keep your heads down so the bugs don’t get in your eyes. Got it? Ready. Go!”

  We raced up the river and through the marsh sitting next to the loudest machine I’d ever heard. No sense in trying to remember the route. Hanging on was more important. My hair whipped across my lips as the sulfur-stink water sprayed my face.

  I looked over my shoulder in time to see Hook clutching at his thigh, then his leg. The Ace bandage had come loose, slipped down his leg, then out the pant of his jogging suit. It danced for a minute on the airboat deck. Before he could retrieve it, it blew off behind us and down the Savannah River. His UpUGo sprang to attention.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  In the flap of a buzzard’s wing, we were on land following Joseph through the scrub pines to a pickup truck. It was old, rusty, and smelled like a wet dog. It had one of those extra back seats just tight enough to be painful for Roger, Jaxbee, and me.