4th Down Page 15

  I retraced my steps as best I could, not sure I was going the exact same way I'd come but confident I was headed in the general direction. Several times I called Allison's name, but there was no answer. When I reached what I thought was the spot I'd left the boat, I stood under the protection of the trees and stared at the beach. Even through the rain, I could see the footprints, and there seemed to be more than there had been before. But to my dismay, there weren't any boats on the sand.

  I looked out across the lake toward the resort and saw dozens of sailboats battling the choppy water. I tried to count them but lost track. It was impossible to make out the emblems on the sails in the driving rain. I had no way of knowing if Allison's boat was among them.

  Perhaps I'd come back to the wrong spot, I thought. I pulled my windbreaker around me, wishing it were waterproof, and hopped down onto the beach. I stomped the sand and studied my shoeprint, comparing it to the ones already there. I was almost positive this was the same spot where we'd landed. There were drag marks in the sand from the boats.

  One set of footprints led north along the edge of the water and I followed them.

  "Allison!" I called. I wasn't at all sure the footsteps were hers, but I called out anyway.

  When I saw her, my heart lurched. She was doubled over, clutching her side. She looked up, dazed, and fell to her knees in the sand. Her hair was soaked, and water streamed down her face. I ran as fast as I could.

  "What happened?" I shouted. Then I noticed the blood. It had stained her jogging suit, a widening circle spreading across the left side of her ribcage.

  "Somebody stabbed me." Her voice was a whisper and she was in obvious pain. "Just now, when you called out. They ran up there." She pointed to the forest behind us, and I scanned the area for movement, but saw nothing.

  "Let me look." I lifted her sweatsuit jacket gingerly and she grimaced.

  Her voice was strained. "I don't think they hit anything critical. But they might have gotten a rib. It hurts like hell." The wound was an ugly slash and had gone fairly deep. The blood seeped out in a steady flow.

  "Can you reach your right arm around here to hold this?" I asked. I ripped the butterfly flag off of its wooden pole and folded it into squares until I had a thick bandage. I pressed it against the wound. She nodded, grunting with the effort. There was sweat mixing with the rain on her brow.

  "They took the boats," she whispered. She pointed north, away from the resort and for the first time, I noticed the two boats, sails flapping listlessly as they bobbed on the water a hundred feet from shore. The wind was taking them farther away from the island. "We're stranded," she said.

  "Did you see who it was?" I looked back toward the forest, wondering if the attacker was watching us now.

  "She just jumped me. Once I saw the boats, I sat down on the bank to think. I didn't know if you were still on the island, and I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't even hear her come up behind me. The first thing I heard was a grunt, and I started to turn, but the knife was already in my ribs. And then you called my name, and she just disappeared before I could even look up."

  "Can you walk?"

  "Not very far. With stab wounds, it's best if you stay quiet and try to staunch the bleeding. I don't think she punctured any organs, but there's no point in bleeding to death."

  I nodded. She was right, of course. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my thirty-eight, setting it on the ground in front of her.

  "If anyone comes, use this. Turn around so you can face the forest, so you can see them coming."

  "Where are you going?" she asked, her eyes huge. She touched the gun with her index finger and quickly pulled it back. She reminded me of a curious kid who touches a snake's skin for the first time.

  "I'm going after them," I said. "I'm getting tired of being hunted. It's time to turn the tables."

  "Cassidy," she reached out and took hold of my arm. "I'm afraid." Her blue-green eyes searched my face.

  "You'll be okay," I said. "Have you ever fired one of these?" I picked up the gun and showed her how. She watched me and nodded.

  "I'm afraid for you," she said. I didn't know if the tears were from pain or emotion.

  "I'll be okay. But I do need to get going."

  "I'm sorry about last night," she said, letting the tears fall.

  "Shhh ..." I brushed the tears off her cheek and leaned forward, doing something that surprised me even as I did it. I cupped her lovely face and kissed her softly on the lips. It was excruciatingly tender. It lasted only a few seconds, but it seemed longer.

  "I could have loved you," she said, looking into my eyes.

  "I know," I said. I stood up, my legs shaking. "I could have loved you, too."

  I leaped up onto the grassy ledge above the beach and ran into the forest, my heart pounding, my throat tight with emotion, the wooden flagpole with its pointed end still clutched in my hand like a spear.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I'd have liked it better if I'd known which suspect I was chasing. It might make a difference in how they tried to trap me, which was what I was anticipating. But I didn't have that luxury, so I just forged ahead.

  As quickly as possible, I leapt from rock to rock, avoiding the twigs along the forest floor. I stopped often, listening, but the sound of the rain overhead drowned out most other noises. That was good. They'd have trouble hearing me, too. As I ran, I scanned the ground, looking for footprints, anything that might indicate a direction. I knew, though, that with all the women who'd been here in the last hour, footprints probably wouldn't be much help. Even so, when I found some heading east, I followed them.

  I was nearly to the highest part of the island when I heard a crashing sound ahead of me. I stopped, my heart thudding against my chest. Slowly, I crept forward toward the noise, wishing I had my gun.

  Just then, a flash of color caught my eye through the thick foliage, not fifty feet away. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, a yellow blur between the trees, but it had been enough. What I'd seen was the unmistakable silhouette of Reeva's flattop.

  Of course, I thought. Reeva was the one with the Swiss Army knife. I wished I had something more than just the skinny flag pole in my hand. Still, clutching it made me feel somewhat better, and I stealthily made my way after her disappearing form.

  She was much more quick and lithe than I would've given her credit for. Like a feral cat, she moved from rock to rock, much as I'd been doing. I followed her, staying back, wondering what she was up to. She seemed to be circling back toward the spot where I'd left Allison. Judging from the way she moved, it was almost as if she were hunting something. But I was behind her. Did she know I was following her? Was this some kind of elaborate trap? I stayed low and did my best to keep up with her, waiting for the break I would need in order to make a move.

  It came so suddenly I almost missed it. We'd been traveling downhill, back toward the lakeshore, and the path she was following wound through the trees in a spiral. When I saw her, she was crouched on a flat rock, watching the forest in front of her, almost directly below me. I, too, was crouched on a rock, and when I realized I'd finally gotten my chance, my heartbeat quickened.

  As quietly as I could, I stood up, counted to three and heaved myself off the rock, landing directly on top of her. She let out a terrifying yell and rolled over, taking me with her.

  "You!" she panted, grabbing me by the hair and slamming me to the ground. She was bigger and stronger than I was, and she was wild with rage.

  "Give it up, Reeva," I managed. I still clutched the pole in my right hand, but she was too close for me to use it. I dropped it and punched my fist into her throat. She let go of me, clutching her neck. I knew this might be the only break I got. With all the strength my legs could muster, I kicked her, connecting with her chin. She went flying backwards. But before I could get to my feet, she was on hers. The red army knife was in her hand.

  "You don't understand," she said, circling me. Her eyes were wild, and blood trickle
d down the corner of her mouth where I'd kicked her.

  "You're jealous of Allison," I said. "Everyone loves her and you wish they loved you. You've got great ideas, but no one will listen. How's that, Reeva? Close enough?"

  She was shaking her head and her eyes kept darting around as if she expected the cops to arrive at any moment. She had a wild-eyed look that scared me. "It's not me," she said, panting.

  "No? You've got some alter ego doing all this? Put down the knife, Reeva. There's been enough damage done." I was breathing heavily myself, tired of circling. But she wouldn't stop.

  "I don't hate Allison," she said, huffing noisily. "One of them does." Her eyes had gone steely and were fixed on something over my left shoulder. Hearing a twig snap behind me, I wheeled around.

  Sabrina Pepper and Fay Daniels stood facing each other in the pounding rain, both looking wild-eyed with fear. Sabrina clutched a bloody knife which she waved at Fay.

  "She tried to kill Allison! I saw her!" Sabrina wailed.

  Fay took a tentative step backwards, holding her hands in front of her. "Cut the act, Sabrina, and put down the knife before you hurt someone else." She looked at Reeva and me for help. "I saw her running out of the woods and followed her. I just hope to God Allison's okay."

  "She's lying!" Sabrina shouted. "I didn't do it! She did!"

  Reeva and I exchanged glances, not knowing what to believe. Cautiously, the two of us moved in closer, flanking them.

  "What were you doing out here?" I asked Fay.

  "Following her! Obviously she's the one who's been trying to kill Allison. When I saw her with the knife, I knew I had to stop her."

  "That's not true! It was you! You tried to hide the knife and I found it! Reeva, you know I wouldn't hurt Allison!"

  "Which one were you following?" I asked Reeva.

  "Sabrina," she said. "When it started to rain, I headed back to the boat and that's when I saw her run by with the knife."

  The four of us stood in the downpour, looking from one to the other. We were streaked with mud, the hair plastered to our heads.

  I finally broke the silence and turned to Fay. "If you were following Sabrina, how did she get behind you?"

  Fay's eyes narrowed. She took a tentative step toward Sabrina, her hand held in front of her. "Give me the knife, Sabrina." Her gray Army T-shirt was soaked through and I recognized it from her room as the one with the name penned on the label. The name Anderson. Suddenly, I felt a chill run through me. The connection I'd been searching for was right in front of me.

  "Put down the knife, Sabrina," I said, moving closer. Sabrina's eyes worried me. They were glassy with false bravado. She clutched the knife even tighter, not taking her eyes from Fay.

  "Tell me, Fay. Did you used to have a sister? A younger one, perhaps?" I took another step toward her, keeping an eye on Sabrina's knife. Fay shot me a quick glance, then turned her attention back to Sabrina. "I know you're married, Fay. Your maiden name was Anderson, right? It says so on your shirt label. And your sister was Mary Ann. Only they called her Andy. She was Allison's first lover, wasn't she?" This time, Fay's attention was riveted on me. Her lips had gone into a snarl. "She killed herself and you blamed Allison," I finished, taking another step toward her.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," she spat.

  "It's a long time to hold a grudge, Fay. Did it take you all this time to track Allison down, or just this long to get up the courage to try to kill her?"

  "You're as crazy as she is! I didn't try to kill anyone. Look at her! She's the one who's disturbed!"

  Reeva took another step toward Sabrina and held out her hand. "Give me the knife, babe. No one's going to hurt you."

  "She tried to pin the murder on you, Reeva! Don't you see? All those notes about football? She was trying to frame you and now she's doing the same to me!" Sabrina's pupils had become pinpoints, tiny dots of black disappearing into vapid pools of blue. She stared at Fay, hatred seeping from every pore. Suddenly, she lunged.

  "No!" Reeva and I shouted together. Before we could stop her, Sabrina was on top of Fay, pummeling her with her fists, the bloody knife still lying on the ground where she had dropped it.

  As strong as she was, Fay was no match for Sabrina's fury. By the time Reeva and I managed to pull Sabrina away, Fay was nearly unconscious. Sabrina collapsed on the ground, a thin smile spreading across her pale complexion.

  "Touchdown!" she whispered, blowing blond bangs off her forehead. Then she fainted.

  We made quite a motley crew. Reeva carried Sabrina all the way back to the beach and I helped Fay hobble behind them. She offered no resistance. She seemed broken, as if all the life had gone out of her.

  We now sat beside Allison, waiting for someone to notice our absence. The rain had let up and there was even a thread of sunshine stretching through the clouds. Sabrina had regained consciousness and seemed a different person — stronger somehow, and more at peace with herself. She was curled up with her head on Reeva's shoulder, a strange smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  Allison seemed to have gone into shock, not from the knife wound, but from the news that Fay was Andy's sister. The old pain of her lover's suicide was made new by the realization that someone besides herself had blamed her for the death. Fay refused to look at any of us, refused to speak or to explain her actions. She sat stoically, staring out at the lake, her bloodied nose dripping onto the front of her T-shirt. When I tried to stem the flow, she turned her head, refusing even that small gesture.

  Reeva and I took turns consoling Allison, but finally we just let her cry. I held one hand and Reeva held the other, lending her our strength while she finally let go of years of silent grief.

  "I've made so many mistakes," Allison said, when she'd finally cried herself out. Fay snorted, a pathetic sound, given her bloodied nose. She quickly resumed her silence.

  Reeva put her arm around Allison. "We all have, babe. No one's perfect. Even you. Though you're about as close as they come. To tell you the truth, I like you better knowing you're mortal." Reeva reached over and punched me playfully in the arm. "What about you, cowgirl? You ever do anything wrong?"

  "I was wrong about you," I admitted. "When I saw you up there in the woods, I thought —"

  "No shit, Sherlock. I've damn near got a broken chin to prove it. But that's not what I meant." She let it hang, and so did I.

  Allison couldn't stand it. "What?"

  "She wants to know if I'm really John Girl in disguise. I think she wants to know if we slept together."

  Allison's cheeks turned slightly pink, but she covered quickly. "Are you kidding? Cassidy James is madly in love with some woman named Maggie, and she wouldn't even think of screwing that up. In fact, rumor has it, they're about to have their one-year anniversary. Am I right?" She poked me in the ribs. Obviously, Billie had told all.

  "Absolutely," I said, feeling both proud and achingly sad.

  "Well, you sure did a good job of acting, I'll give you that," Reeva said. In the distance, an aluminum motorboat chugged toward us, battling the waves.

  Allison snuck her hand over and squeezed mine. I squeezed back. The electricity that passed between us could've lit a city.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  It was the first citizen's arrest I'd ever made, and hopefully the last. Once the police finally arrived, I was almost sorry I'd contacted them. There was no end to the depositions and statements. The fact that Fay had maintained her vow of silence, refusing to speak, or even to eat or drink, didn't help matters. Fay's estranged husband had been summoned and was finally able to shed some light on the situation. He was a timid man, as nervous as he was concerned.

  "She saw Allison Crane s name in the paper," he explained, "and it ate away at her. Back when the suicide happened, she believed it had been her sister who was twisted. Allison claimed to be straight and so no one really blamed her. But then, here she turns out to be the president of some damned homosexual group and flaunting it like she's proud
of it, and it was more than Fay could bear. I tried to tell her the past was the past, but she became obsessed. When she told me she wanted to spend some time away from me on her own, I thought maybe she had met another man. Then the next thing I know, she's quit the Army and run off to Portland. Things weren't that good between us anyway, but when she wouldn't return my calls, I got worried. I never thought it would come to this, though. Never in a million years."

  Martha came up and helped cut through the red tape. Even with Fay's husband's testimony, the local police seemed overwhelmed by the twists and turns. Finally, they decided to take Fay back to town for questioning. By then, it was Sunday, the day before everyone's scheduled departure.

  Meanwhile, Martha was in her true element. An attractive cop with a Don Juan complex and a romantic history that made mine look anemic, Martha positively glowed. Women have always swarmed to Martha. She exudes this kind of sexuality that few straight people would understand. But I knew she had Tina at home. I also knew that Tina was the first woman Martha had ever really committed herself to, and that they had something special. I wasn't about to let her screw that up.

  "Maybe we should wait until everyone pulls out," she said, flashing me those big brown eyes of hers that had melted my own heart once, long ago.

  "We're going now, Martha."

  Reluctantly, she agreed to accompany me down the mountain.

  "I suppose you'll be wanting Diablo," Buddy said. His grin was ear to ear. I'd gained status now that he knew I was a private investigator, and he'd been bird-dogging me.

  "Absolutely," I said. "Unless you want him?" I glanced at Martha. She looked unsure. Until she saw Diablo. His eyes were all whites rolled back in his head and he pawed the ground, snorting.