Girl on a Slay Ride (10 page)

T
HE
snow began to let up at dusk. Mallory stood at the window nearest the stove and watched the flakes thin out and then disappear altogether. A light rain began to spatter the window.

“Chinook wind coming up,” Mallory said. “The snow won’t last long now.”

From across the room, Graef said in his bland voice, “So soon you can start herding your prisoners back to civilization. Is that what you’re thinking, Mallory?”

Mallory stood for a moment watching the rain grow heavier. The snow on the stone steps began to sag, and he could see rivulets of water running from under it.

“That’s right,” he said. “We’ll be able to leave in a few hours.”

“You still don’t believe what I said, eh, Mallory?”

Mallory glanced at Graef. He was seated in the gloom, his back to the wall. Thoms sat beside him. Both men were still barefooted. Both had their wrists bound again. Mallory had agreed to keep them tied on Blalock’s urging.

Mallory said, “I’ve got other things to worry about.”

He turned back to the window. It was growing dusky. He could hear Blalock stirring in sleep. He was stretched out between the stove and the door. Denise was asleep too, curled behind the stove like a kitten. Mallory wondered if her only defense would be continued silence. He hadn’t thought much about her throughout the day; he hadn’t let himself. He’d kept busy stoking the stove and preparing meals. Then with Graef and Thoms’ shoes beside him and the gun in his hand, he’d stretched out on the long counter and managed a few quick naps.

He was still tired but his leg felt better than it had since Graef shot him. The day’s rest had done it good, he thought. That and the steady warmth from the little stove. He considered the distance yet to travel. A two-hour hike at a fair pace would see them down to the state highway that ran along the shore of the Strait. Once there, it should be easy to find a place with a telephone, he thought.

He became aware that it had grown dark inside the room. He heard someone stirring. He turned and saw Denise uncurling herself. She sat up, making a blur of movement as she stretched. She rose quietly and walked to the pan Mallory had filled with snow and left on the stove. She poured out some of the water and rubbed it over her face. She walked toward Mallory, patting her face with a handkerchief.

She stood by him silently. She said softly, “I’m sorry, Cliff. I didn’t know what else to do. When I had a chance to get away from Graef, I took it.”

“And hooked up with Blalock?”

She had her face turned up to his. He could see the anxiety in her expression. “I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t true.”

“What isn’t true—that you were going with Blalock because he had a hundred thousand dollars?”

He saw her shudder. “Would I—with him?”

“It’s a lot of money,” Mallory said. “It might buy you freedom from your husband.”

“I thought of it,” she admitted. She touched Mallory’s arm with her fingers. He made no response. “But not right away, Cliff. Only after I’d talked myself into believing you’d gone back—for the police. Then there was no one else but Blalock.”

“Then I showed up,” Mallory said.

She said, “Yes, then you showed up with them.”

“And you’ve had to change your plans again?”

“Don’t be brutal, Cliff, please!”

Mallory felt her fingers tighten on his arm. He was aware that she had moved closer to him. Her side touched his. Her softness and warmth stirred him inside.

He said, “What are you going to do now?”

“What can I do?” she demanded. “You’re going to turn them all over to the police, aren’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“And where does that leave me?”

“I don’t know,” Mallory said honestly.

She said angrily, “By tomorrow, our pictures will be in papers all over the country, I suppose. How long do you think it will take Rick or his men to catch up with me once that happens?”

Mallory said, “You can ask the police for protection. You can ask them to keep you out of all this.”

“Don’t be naïve, Cliff. You know what newspapermen are!”

Mallory said, “I can’t solve your problem, Denise. Graef was right. I should have tried to tip off that state patrolman. I didn’t and I may be in for some trouble myself.”

“You didn’t—because of me, of course?”

“Mostly,” he said.

Denise moved away from him. “Give me a cigarette.”

Mallory gave her a cigarette and took one for himself. He struck a match and cupped the flame toward her. She looked at him over the flare of light. Her eyes were bleak. She inhaled deeply. Mallory lighted his cigarette and blew out the match.

Denise said, “I could do what Graef said I would, Cliff.”

“And not be a witness for me?”

“That’s right.”

“But why should you?” he demanded. “What are you going to gain?”

“Nothing,” she admitted. Her voice faltered and then grew stronger. “But if you don’t give me a chance to get away, it’s what I will do.”

Mallory said, “In other words, if I don’t keep you completely out of this, you’ll try to give me trouble.”

“Yes, that’s about it.”

He looked down at her. He said slowly, “Just what would you do if I did give you a chance to get away?”

Her voice shook a little. “I’ve been thinking about that, Cliff.” She touched him again and moved closer to him. Her voice dropped lower and quickened.

“I think I know where Blalock hid the money. It isn’t in the room, you know. He took the box with him when he went out for wood. He came back without it.”

“I’d noticed it wasn’t inside,” Mallory said.

She said, “If we find it, Cliff, we can take it and go.”

“And leave them all here, you mean?”

“That’s right, darling. Don’t you see? A hundred and forty thousand dollars, with the bonds. Just for the taking. Over twenty years of your salary. There are places in the world where we could live well on that much the rest of our lives. We could even invest part of it and make more.”

Mallory dropped his cigarette and ground out the spark with the toe of his boot. “I told you before that kind of money isn’t my kind.”

“Oh, God, Cliff, don’t be such a fool.” Her hand moved, touching him more intimately. “Can’t you understand? I think back to—to us together, in the motel and in the tent, and I don’t want to let you go. Not ever!”

Mallory said harshly, “We could go where you wouldn’t have to worry about Rick, isn’t that what you mean? I could help you get away from him.”

“Cliff, that isn’t fair! What do I have to do to show you that I love you?”

Her fingers squeezed convulsively into his flesh. Mallory felt the surge of wanting her. He saw her cigarette drop to the floor and shower sparks and then disappear under her foot. Her arms lifted, sliding about his neck. Her body pressed against his, her loins thrusting.

“Now,” she whispered. “Now, here, in the dark, darling. Please.”

Her weight was drawing him down to the deep shadow beneath the bench. He heard someone in the room cough but the sound had no meaning. He felt himself drowning in the darkness and in the scent of Denise. He felt the curve of her breasts under his hands.

Her breath was quick and rough in his ears. She caught his wrist and guided it inside her shirt, over her smooth, warm skin.

“Cliff, darling, darling!”

The floor was rough. He was scarcely aware of it.

Graef said from across the room, “How’s your chinook wind doing, Mallory?”

The voice was like a lash of cold water. Mallory pushed Denise away and got to his feet. He walked to the stove and dipped his hands into the snow water on the stove and washed his face. He could hear Denise sobbing. She was still on the floor where he had left her.

He heard Graef laugh, caught the mockery in the sound. He walked away, toward the door. He lifted the bar from the U-bolts and pulled the door open.

A gust of moist, warm wind drove rain stingingly into his face. He could see the snow on the exposed portion of the porch. Except for the spots where their feet had pressed it down, the snow was almost gone.

He said in a steady voice, “Another hour to wait.”

Graef said, “Why don’t we have some fresh coffee before we go? Or is that asking too much, Mallory?”

Mallory said, “I’ll make some coffee.”

He heard Blalock rise from the floor. “I can hold the flashlight for you,” he said.

His thin, high-pitched voice was clear and rational. He sounded rested and as relaxed as Graef.

Mallory said, “Go ahead.”

Blalock moved in the darkness. In a moment the yellowish, weak beam of the flashlight slid across the room. It touched Graef and Thoms seated against the wall with their hands bound and in their laps. Blalock giggled sharply. The light moved on.

It touched Denise. She had got up, Mallory saw. She was at the other window, away from the stove. Her back was stiff, her head high. She did not turn around.

Blalock giggled again. He moved the light toward the stove.

Mallory went to the stove. He poured water into the coffeepot. He lifted the lid of the stove and prodded the fire into more activity before he stepped back toward the shelf where the supplies were laid out.

“Turn the light this way,” Mallory said.

Blalock came toward him, aiming the flashlight toward the shelf. Mallory located the sack of coffee and set it so that it was outlined by the dim light filtering through the window.

He said, “Turn it off, Blalock. We need to save the batteries.”

The room went dark. Blalock said, “Maybe the moon will be up by the time we’re ready to go.”

“If the chinook blows the clouds away, it will,” Mallory said.

He was nervous suddenly. After even the feeble light from the flash, the darkness seemed intense. He could not locate Graef and Thoms at all now. He could see Denise only because she was standing before a window. And he could make Blalock out only because the man was standing so close to him.

Mallory moved a few feet away and quietly took the gun from his pocket. Blalock said, “You’re afraid you won’t get a chance to turn me over to the police, aren’t you, Mallory?”

“I’m like Graef,” Mallory said. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

Blalock giggled softly. He said. “I saw you and Mrs. Lawton talking. She was trying to persuade you to take the money and go away with her, wasn’t she?”

Mallory said, “How could we? You’ve hidden the money again.”

“But you could have found it,” Blalock said. “And with the gun, you and she might have got away from me. But you lost your chance. And now I’m going to take the money and get away from you.”

His voice was perfectly rational, Mallory thought. And perfectly sincere. Mallory said, “Sorry, but no.”

“But I will,” Blalock argued. “Because I’m smarter than you. I’m smarter than any of you—even Graef. I’ve just stayed this long because it was too hard to travel in all that snow and I was tired. But I’m rested now and the snow’s almost gone.”

Mallory lifted the gun slightly. “We’ll all be going in less than an hour,” he said.

“I just didn’t want you to count too much on turning me and the money over to the police,” Blalock said.

Mallory didn’t answer. Blalock moved slightly. “I think the water’s boiling.” The flashlight came on, the beam touching the shelf of supplies. Blalock reached out and picked up the sack of coffee. The light went out. “One handful, Mallory?”

“That’ll be enough,” Mallory said.

Blalock moved toward the stove. “Why didn’t you take up Mrs. Lawton’s proposition?” he asked.

Mallory said, “No one said she made me a proposition.”

He couldn’t see the stove now; Blalock was blocking his view. But he heard the lid of the coffeepot rattle and he heard the sack of coffee rustle.

“But she did,” Blalock said. “She’s willing to try anything to avoid being caught by her husband.”

Mallory heard Blalock set the coffeepot off the stove and onto the bench. He could smell the sharp fragrance of freshly boiled coffee.

Blalock said, “I suppose I could take her with me. But I really don’t think I want her that bad. Even I can buy a lot of women for less than fifty thousand dollars.”

Denise screamed an incoherent curse at Blalock. Mallory looked in her direction. He heard Blalock giggle. The coffee sack rustled sharply. Mallory glanced back at Blalock. He saw movement from the dark blur that marked the man’s position. He lifted the gun.

He swore as a handful of coffee stung his face. The grains filled his eyes. He heard Blalock coming for him and he lashed out with the gun barrel. He went off balance with the force of his swing. He tried to catch himself, to dodge to one side as Blalock’s foot scraped on the floor behind him.

Mallory felt the bitter bite of the flashlight against the back of his neck. He went to his knees. The gun slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. He groped blindly for it. Blalock’s foot scraped again. Mallory barely felt the second blow. He smelled the acrid stench left by the rodents as his face struck the floor.

He thought, Blalock will get the gun and kill us all.

Then it didn’t really matter. Nothing mattered. He felt a warm, gentle cocoon of darkness wrap itself around him. He wanted only to burrow deeper into it and to sleep.

M
ALLORY
opened his eyes. He remembered the gun and he ran the flat of his hand over the dirty floor. There was nothing there but rodents’ litter. He pushed himself to his knees. The stove draft was open in front and flickering light splashed out. The room came slowly into focus.

Even before he looked, he knew that Graef and Thoms were gone. He could feel the emptiness. He knew before he really looked that Denise was gone too.

He caught the edge of the shelf and pulled himself to his feet. His head throbbed. He could feel the stiffness of drying blood on his neck. He looked carefully toward the window. He saw the splash of moonlight outside and he could hear the warm wind whipping against the window, but the rain had stopped. Broken clouds scudded across the sky, letting the moonlight through in full force so that he could see the trail at the foot of the steps. The snow was almost gone.

He heard the movement on the porch. He felt along the shelf and closed his fingers over the handle of his hunting knife lying there. The door bumped open. Denise was framed in the moonlight. She carried a panful of water. She kicked the door shut and came on into the room.

Mallory said, “I thought you’d gone too.”

She set the pan on the stove. “I went for water to wash your head.” Her voice was withdrawn. “Blalock gave you a nasty cut.”

Mallory lifted the pan from the stove and took a deep drink. The water was icy, chilling his teeth and mouth.

He set the pan back. He said, “How long have Graef and Thoms been gone?”

“About an hour,” she said. She moved, and he could see her face in the flickering light from the open draft.

There was a large discoloration high on one cheek.

Mallory said, “You tried to stop them?”

She touched her cheek. “They must have been working to untie one another all the time you and Blalock were talking. Thoms got up less than five minutes after Blalock ran away. I was trying to wake you, and he hit me and knocked me away.”

“Why?” Mallory demanded. He put his finger in the water. It was still icy to the touch.

“He said he was going to kick you to death. But Graef stopped him. He told Thoms to hurry up, that they’d take care of us later.”

Mallory had his cigarettes out. He held one in his hand, unlighted. He repeated, “Take care of us later? What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know,” Denise said. The withdrawal was still in her voice. “It was all hazy after Thoms hit me. I could hear them leave but I couldn’t do anything for the longest time. Then it got better, and I built up the fire. Then I tried to wake you up. I couldn’t so I went for some water.”

Mallory saw the coffeepot still on the shelf. He put it on the stovetop to heat. He tried the water in the pan again. The chill was gone; it was lukewarm.

He said, “Why didn’t you go after Blalock?”

Denise dropped a piece of cloth into the pan of water. He recognized it as part of her shirt. She lifted the cloth and squeezed it half dry. She went up to Mallory and began to wash the back of his head gently.

She said, “I wanted to, Cliff. But I couldn’t.”

“Because of what he said about you?”

She said, “Why should I care what a madman thinks of me?” She took the rag away from Mallory’s head and dipped it in the water again.

“Oh, hell,” she said abruptly. “You know why I stayed, Cliff.”

“Don’t pull that ‘you love me’ stuff again,” Mallory said savagely. “You’ve taken me in with it too many times already.”

“It could be true,” Denise said in a low voice. She pressed the rag to his head again. “That looks cleaner.”

“It’s fine,” Mallory said. He lifted the coffeepot from the stove and poured two cups. “We’ll drink this and go.”

Denise took a cigarette from her jacket pocket. She lit it and inhaled deeply. She said angrily, “Why did I stay, then? Why didn’t I try to catch Blalock with all that money?”

“Because you added up all the possibilities and decided I was your best bet.”

He heard her breath catch. She said in a low voice, “Do you really believe that?”

“What difference does it make?” Mallory demanded. “What difference does any of it make now? They’re gone and the money’s gone.” He turned sharply. “The briefcase?”

“Graef took it. I heard him tell Thoms to be sure not to leave it behind.”

Mallory took a deep gulp of the coffee. It scalded the inside of his mouth, but he scarcely noticed the burning. “Then the same thing holds as before,” he said. “If I can’t catch up with them, I’m going to the police.”

“And then you’ll want me for a witness?”

Mallory said, “That’s up to you.”

“I’m supposed to decide if forty thousand dollars worth of bonds is more valuable than my life?”

“You’re supposed to decide if you want to run and hide or stay and fight,” Mallory said.

“I don’t fight very well, do I, Cliff?” Her voice was low again.

“You do well enough when you’re backed into a corner,” Mallory said.

She said, “That’s when rats fight, isn’t it—when they’re backed into a corner. Otherwise they run.”

Mallory felt a surge of pity. He said harshly, “Let’s get out of here.”

• • •

The trail was muddy and the mud deepened as they dropped lower down the slope of the mountain. Once they stopped to rest and Mallory saw the moonlight shining on the water of the Strait. He turned the feeble flashlight beam on the trail at his feet.

He said, “The way these tracks look, they’re still an hour ahead of us. We’ll never catch them.”

Denise said, “While I was with them, Graef kept talking about a boat he had waiting in some cove.” Her voice was cooly impersonal.

Mallory remembered a remark of Graef’s. “To take them to Canada,” he said. “They’ll be on their way now. Our only chance is to find the police and get them to act. They can alert the Mounties.”

Denise said, “Graef and Thoms won’t go anywhere without the money.”

Mallory said, “No, of course not. The bonds aren’t enough for them. Maybe they haven’t found Blalock yet. Let’s get moving.”

A short distance on the trail pitched steeply. It broke suddenly out of the timber and onto a narrow forest road. Mallory stopped and turned on the flashlight. He examined damp grass that grew on the crown of the road.

“They all came this way,” he said. “And went down the road. If I remember right, it leads to the state highway.”

Denise walked behind him, not speaking.

Mallory could see the highway after they had gone some distance. A car flashed down it, splashing light over the blacktop. He hurried his steps.

Another car appeared. He threw up an arm as it turned sharply into the forest road and the headlights Struck him in the face. The car growled toward them in second gear.

Mallory turned and caught Denise’s arm. He pulled her to the side of the road, toward the trees bordering it.

He heard the car stop. He turned, and saw the gun resting on the sill of a rear window. He could see Blalock behind Graef. Thoms was in the front seat. A stranger was behind the wheel.

Graef said, “Come in, you two, and join old friends.”