Disappearance at Hangman's Bluff (13 page)

The howl of the wind and the loud smack of raindrops on the mud drowned all other sound, so I couldn't hear the guard or Leaper or even the bulldozer engine. With the rain lashing sideways into my eyes, it was all I could do to make sure I didn't tumble off the edge and into the hole. Ahead of me Bee's blurred form slogged and squished through the brown goo.

The rain was cold, and my muscles burned, but I was too frightened to care. I had no idea how we were going to get home. I only knew that we had to get away from the guard and Leaper and the man he had called Lenny.

After what seemed like an eternity, we hit the end of the embankment and ran down onto the cleared earth, where we were able to move much faster. The blurred shapes of the two hills of dirt loomed to our left, and the double-wide and the parked equipment were ahead.

Bee slowed for a second and looked back. “Which way?” she shouted.

I pointed to the right, the way I thought led toward the road.

We started running again. Our feet slapped against the muddy ground, but the sound was covered by the storm. It was almost as dark as night, the rain slashing sideways in driven sheets.

Suddenly, through the blur, a pair of lights appeared. It might have been Lenny, but it also might have been Daddy or Grandma Em or even the police coming to look for us. Maybe they had discovered us missing, and maybe they had talked to Mrs. Middleton and found out that we had wanted to come over here.

We had to take a chance, and I shouted to Bee and waved my arms, running toward the headlights. As we got closer the car angled off toward the double-wide, and just as I was pretty sure the driver ought to be able to see Bee and me, they stopped and honked their horn.

We were only a few steps from the side of the car and maybe ten or fifteen yards from the construction shed. I raced over and slapped my hands on the driver's window just as the door of the double-wide opened.

“Help!” I screamed, and then Bee was beside me screaming the same thing. The driver was a man. There was a woman beside him in the front seat and a girl in the back. They all turned their heads, their eyes wide with fear at the sight of two mud-covered girls slapping on their windows. My heart soared with hope that we were going to be rescued, until I recognized the faces of Mr. LaBelle, Mrs. LaBelle, and Donna.

Thirteen

W
e stared at one another
through the rain-streaked glass. For a few seconds no one spoke or moved; then Mr. LaBelle's attention shifted, and he swung his head toward the man who had come out of the construction shed and was now framed in the headlights.

It was the man who had stolen Yemassee, and as he stared at Bee and me his eyes burned with a glowering anger.

Mr. LaBelle turned and said something to Mrs. LaBelle and Donna. Then he opened the door and climbed out of the car.

“What are you two doing here?” he demanded, a worried edge in his voice. He wasn't wearing a raincoat, just a sport coat and shirt. He was getting soaked, but if he felt it, he didn't seem to care.

I stepped in front of Bee before she could speak. “Our kayak got blown onto your property. We need a ride home right away.”

Mr. LaBelle's face relaxed a little. For a second I thought he was going to tell us to get into the car so he could drive us back to Reward, but then I heard yelling behind me.

It was the guard. He was limping, and he and the dog and the shotgun were covered with massive amounts of mud.

“Grab them two, Lenny!” the guy snarled as he got close enough to make himself heard over the storm. “They pushed me and Leaper into the hole!”

“
They
pushed you into the hole?” Lenny said.

“Yeah, they been
lookin' around
.”

That was when Bee chose to step around me and hold out the skull, which the rain had washed clean. “Yeah, and we found the graves you destroyed!”

Mr. LaBelle's eyes went wide, and he threw an alarmed look at Lenny. “What?”

Lenny paid no attention to Mr. LaBelle. He was glaring at Bee and me with an anger that made fear bubble up inside my belly. I tried to tell myself it was okay because Mr. LaBelle was in charge. He was a jerk, but he wouldn't let anything bad happen to us, not in front of his wife and daughter. If we could keep things from getting any worse, I thought we could still get in his car and drive out of there.

That was when Bee pretty much killed any chance of things not getting worse. “I'm telling the police and everybody who will listen,” she shouted. “You're destroying graves. That's against the law, and it's . . . evil.”

Her eyes were slits, the skin pulled tight on her face, her hair plastered to her skull, and rain dripping off her nose. She had no thought of trying to get out of there safely. Those graves mattered to her so much that all she cared about was making sure all these men got punished for what they had done.

Mr. LaBelle held up his hands and smiled. When he did that, he seemed so confident and so totally in charge and believable. Daddy had always said Mr. LaBelle was such a good talker that he could sell snow to Eskimos and that was the reason he had been able to get away with breaking so many rules. Of course that was before he ran into Daddy.

“Whoa there, young lady,” Mr. LaBelle said. “Those are some pretty serious allegations you're making.”

Lenny cleared his throat. “I think we got us a problem, LaBelle,” he said. I noticed he hadn't said “Mr. LaBelle,” and for some reason that made me nervous.

Bee's chest was heaving and she still had that crazy look in her eyes. Even so, I was praying she might give in and let Mr. LaBelle think he'd had a victory. Then we could get in the car and go home. Please, Bee! I thought.

“We won't really say anything, will we, Bee?” I prodded.

Bee never got a chance to answer, because the guard spoke for a second time, his voice louder than before. “Is anybody listenin'? They was
lookin' around
!”

About that time Mrs. LaBelle opened her door and got out of the car, holding a newspaper over her head. She was soaked in seconds, and her hairdo collapsed like a dead bird. “What is going
on
?” she demanded. “Why are these girls here, and
what
are we waiting for? We need to get off this island!” She glared at her husband. “I don't even know why you
insisted
we come here.”

Mr. LaBelle's face had changed again. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but for the first time since I'd met him, he didn't appear to be in control of what was happening.

“Get back in the car, sweetheart,” he said. “I just need to talk to these two gentlemen privately for a moment.”

Mrs. LaBelle made an angry sound, but she got in the car and slammed the door. Then Mr. LaBelle turned to Bee and me. “You girls stay here.”

Finally he waved Lenny toward the double-wide. “Step over here, please.”

Lenny looked at the guard. “You come, too, Possum,” he said.

The guard told Leaper to sit, then followed Mr. LaBelle and Lenny to the double-wide. When Mr. LaBelle pulled open the door, I swore I saw a sort of wire pen inside. That could have been where they were holding Yemassee, but at that moment I had a lot more on my mind than her.

As soon as Mr. LaBelle and the two men disappeared inside, I looked at Leaper and thought about trying to make a run for it. I gave up on the idea right away, because Leaper was staring at me like if I moved half an inch, I was going to be dinner.

If we couldn't run, maybe we could get in the LaBelles' car. Once we were inside, we could just flat refuse to get out. I reached for the door handle, but as if she'd been watching me and waiting for me to make exactly that move, Donna's hand shot out and hit the lock button.

“Donna, let us in,” I pleaded.

She put her face up close to the window and shook her head.

“Please, it's life and death!”

She gave me a look like she knew I was lying, and her mother wouldn't even look at me.

Before I could say anything else, the double-wide door opened and the three men came out. Right away I knew something was wrong, because Mr. LaBelle walked in front with a sick look on his face and his hands in the air.

Mrs. LaBelle must have caught it right away, because she got out of the car, and this time she didn't even try to keep her hair dry. “Darling? What's going on?” she demanded.

“Shut up, lady,” Lenny said. “I'm sure you've heard of corporate reorganizations. Well, we've just had one.” His voice was low and gruff. He didn't sound nervous or stupid like Possum. As they came closer I saw that he was aiming a pistol at Mr. LaBelle's back. “Get your daughter out of the car.”

“Come on, Lenny, put down the gun,” Mr. LaBelle said. “We can work this out. You're making a big mistake.”

“I'll tell you the mistake,” Lenny said. “The mistake was not killing those girls the very first time I saw 'em.”

Mrs. LaBelle's eyes were as wide as saucers, and her head was swinging back and forth between Lenny and her husband. Confusion etched her face. “David,
what
is going on? Why is that man pointing a gun at you, and why is he making threats?”

“Shut up, ma'am,” Possum said.

“You will
not
speak to me in that manner!”

“LaBelle, shut your wife up before I shut her up for you,” Lenny snarled.

Mr. LaBelle looked at his wife and held up a calming hand. “Just take it easy, sweetheart. We'll work this out.”

Donna LaBelle had gotten out of the car, and she stood there getting soaked, looking at her parents and at Lenny's pistol. “Stop aiming a gun at my father,” she demanded. She pointed at Bee and me. “Aim your gun at them! They're trespassing.”

“Lenny,” Possum said, shaking his head. “I ain't sure I understand. Are we takin' all of 'em prisoner?”

“Whatta you think?”

“Well, I just . . . I think we got us a problem.”

“Thanks so much for explainin' that, Possum,” Lenny snapped. “All you were s'posed to do was guard the place and make sure nobody came trespassing. It oughtn't to been that tough. Is there anything you can't screw up?”

Donna started to cry, and Mr. LaBelle stepped over and put his arms around her. “It's okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “This is just a big misunderstanding.”

Lenny let out a nasty laugh. “The mistake was you thinkin' you could throw me and Possum to the wolves.”

Mr. LaBelle straightened, gently pushed Donna away, then turned to face Possum. “Don't listen to Lenny. He's just going to get you in deeper. You don't want to go down for murder.”

Without seeming to give it a thought, Lenny came up behind Mr. LaBelle and hit him over the head with the butt of his gun. Mr. LaBelle fell to his knees and grabbed his head. There was a little bit of blood leaking out between his fingers and turning pink in the rain as it ran down onto his collar.

Donna and Mrs. LaBelle both screamed, and Lenny pointed his pistol at them and cried, “Shut up, both of you.”

I knew, if Daddy was there, he would've said that if an idiot was waving a gun around, the first thing you need to do is get him to stop waving it. “Do what he says,” I hissed.

Mrs. LaBelle's face remained frozen in fear, but at least she quieted down. Donna continued to wail, so I walked over, grabbed her shoulders, and shook her hard. “Stop it!”

She looked at me with a shocked expression. I stared hard into her eyes. “You have to be quiet. You understand me?”

Her eyes were unfocused like her brain was someplace else, but she nodded. I glanced at Bee. The crazed anger had left her eyes. From the look on her face, I knew she now understood that if she had kept her mouth shut, there was a good chance none of this would have happened.

Lenny was dangerous and maybe crazy, and from what Mr. LaBelle had said, he intended to kill us. I didn't know why he would do that, or what the huge hole was all about, or how Mr. LaBelle was going to throw him to the wolves. But what I did understand was that bad guys didn't like witnesses, so I thought it was a good bet that Lenny wouldn't risk killing any of us if he didn't have all of us under his control.

That meant the only way to save any of us was for one of us to get away.

I also knew I couldn't count on any of the LaBelles. Mr. LaBelle was still on his knees. Mrs. LaBelle was trying to help him get to his feet, but she was too much of a wacko to think clearly. As for Donna, she didn't have enough common sense to blow her nose. Which meant hatching an escape plan was going to be up to Bee and me.

I also realized we didn't have much time, because Lenny leaned down and gave Mr. LaBelle a slap. “Get up and get moving.” He pointed vaguely in the direction of the big dirt piles. “Take all of 'em over yonder, Possum.”

My brain was working overtime. I was thinking that people
just don't
do this kind of stuff, not for real. Part of my brain was convinced this whole thing was just a plan to scare the bejesus out of us, but then I felt a big blast of doubt when I glanced at Possum and saw him lick his lips. Fear sparked in his eyes, and it seemed like he didn't want any part of what was about to happen next. Which meant, unless he was a lot better actor than I was giving him credit for, we were in seriously bad trouble.

“Over yonder, where?” Possum asked.

“Over by where we dug out the dirt pile. Where do you think?” Lenny snapped.

“What're you gonna be doin'?”

Lenny pointed toward the LaBelles' Mercedes. “Gettin' this here car outta sight.”

Possum scowled but did what Lenny told him, waving his shotgun, silently telling us to walk. We went in a slow line, with Bee and me in front and the LaBelles behind. Donna was sobbing like a baby, but at least she wasn't making much noise. Mrs. LaBelle was helping her husband walk, and Mr. LaBelle was stumbling and still looking pretty dazed.

The wind was coming hard from the east, hitting our backs as we walked. The rain continued to sheet down, coming so fast the ground was one shallow puddle.

Possum walked a few feet off to the side with Leaper at his heels. He didn't seem worried that any of us would try to escape—not too surprising, since he had a shotgun and a hundred-pound killer dog, and his strongest prisoner could barely walk.

For the past couple minutes, I had been trying to analyze all the angles. It seemed totally crazy to go shooting people just to cover up the fact that they'd dug up some old graves. I mean, that was bad, but nowhere nearly as bad as murder. But if Lenny was as crazy as I suspected, then he wasn't using his head, he was just reacting. Problem was, all my thinking hadn't gotten me anyplace except walking toward what I was starting to suspect was going to be my grave. I decided that now was the time to chuck thinking out the window.

I turned and looked at Possum. I was as scared as I had ever been in my life, but I couldn't let fear choke off my words. Right at that moment talking was the only thing that could save us.

“What was the blond guy's name?” I asked.

Possum gave me a sharp look. “Who?”

“The guy whose face was on TV after the gas-company robbery.”