Soundkeeper (9 page)

Hall said “All summer long, for two summers in a row.” Between his freshman and sophomore years at the College of Charleston he cleaned hundreds of pounds of fish that the tourists caught on the charter boats. They often let him have some of the catch and he shared it with his friends at Fort Johnson.

The old man laughed and spat tobacco juice into the sink. When they had dressed all of the fish the old man looked out the window and spoke again.

“Dinner time’s soon. We’d be blessed for you to join us,” he said.

Hall declined the invitation, but didn’t refuse a piece of pan-fried redfish stuffed inside a homemade biscuit. It was delicious and made him second guess his decision to leave.

On his way back out to the river, he relied on his instruments to help him navigate in the darkness and noticed a light in an old fishhouse that he had believed to be abandoned. A dump truck was pulling up to the dilapidated building and Hall wondered how soon the area would become the newest gated waterfront community. He ate the last bite of the biscuit and pointed his boat toward home, into the setting sun.

Chapter Fifteen

Gale used the bezel on her dive watch to mark the time when Arnold left. So far he had been gone for forty minutes. During that time she had explored her prison as much as her chain would allow. Before he left Arnold had closed the window by nailing a piece of plywood over the opening. It was dark inside the building, but her eyes had adjusted and there was enough light coming under the door and through the holes in the roof for her to see. The light was orange from the sunset, and she knew the weather was going to be good tomorrow.

Her restraint was simple, primitive, and escape proof. There was no way for her to free herself unless she amputated her foot. The heavy chain that was connected to the handcuffs was bolted to a steel girder that ran the length of the building. She considered trying to climb the chain to get to the bolts, but she could see that they were rusted in place and doubted that she could loosen them, even if she had the proper tools.

Arnold had been gone for two hours when she heard his small boat return. He burst through the door as if he expected her to be gone, breathing hard from his effort. She purposely sat facing away from the door and didn’t turn toward him until she heard him approach.

“I got you some things,” he said. He dropped two grocery bags on the floor in front of her and waited for her to look inside them. Gale made no effort to see what was in the bags. Arnold blinked first and went over to his lawn chair, opened a can of beer and turned on the small television set.

Gale opened the bags and found some clothing, a package of baby wipes, a towel, a stick of deodorant and a few other items. There were two warm up suits, sweatpants with matching tops. She must really smell bad for Arnold to have gotten her some clean clothing. She held the top against her body to see if it would fit.

“It’ll fit.” Arnold startled her when he spoke. He was close to her and she hadn’t even heard him move across the room.

“You look like you’re the same size as my sister and that’s what I got her for Christmas last year.”

What a lucky girl, Gale thought.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” She wanted to stay on his good side but didn’t want to do anything he might misread.

“You can change clothes now,” Arnold said.

He stepped toward her and she stiffened. The lid, her only weapon, was wrapped inside her blanket and every time he got close to her she realized how enormous he really was. He bent in front of her and took the handcuff off of her ankle and she saw that he put the key in the front pocket of his grimy blue jeans. He threw the empty beer can on the floor on his way out the door and closed it behind him.

Between the plywood covering and the window frame Gale could see his shadow. He was watching, waiting for her to take her clothes off. She felt the hot tears in the corner of her eyes and clenched her fists. No problem, asshole. She’d changed out of wet bathing suits on the beach so many times she had it down to a science. She draped the blanket over her shoulders and changed out of her shorts without taking her shoes off. The sweat pants were a little loose around her waist but she tied them with the drawstring. The she pulled her shirt over her head without unbuttoning it, left her sports bra on and slipped on the sweatshirt. When she was finished changing she turned around and glanced at the window. He was still there. The door was several feet from the window. If she rushed toward the door she thought she could make it before he knew she was trying to escape. She could dive off the end of the dock and swim to shore or to the shallow marsh where he couldn’t follow her in his boat. She took too long to decide.

Arnold burst through the door so quickly she screamed, and her scream scared him so badly that he screamed back at her. She screamed again when he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a small closet. She hit him as hard as she could on the top of his head but he didn’t even blink. After several blows her hand started to hurt, and she opened her hand to claw his face with her fingernails.

Every speaker she’d ever heard talk about personal security told women not to fight their attackers because a violent response usually meant the victim was hurt worse than they would have been if they were submissive. Separate your mind from your body and imagine anything to ignore what was really happening, she had always been told. But one speaker was different. She had been raped and told women to fight like hell. Scratch their eyes out. Bite their tongues off. She told them if they could tear twelve sheets of typing paper in half they were strong enough to rip an ear off of their attackers head.

She reached for his ear but he caught her by her wrist.

“He’s here. Don’t make any noise. He’ll kill you this time,” Arnold warned before he closed the closet door.

“Arnold!” Gale heard someone outside yell. She recognized the voice. It was the man she thought of as Blondie. The one with the knife. She held her breath.

“Since you’re lying around on your ass I assume you fixed the boat,” Blondie said when he walked into the building. He put a fresh six-pack in the cooler and took one back for himself.

“Yeah, sure,” Arnold mumbled. “Have you got some money for me?” he asked Blondie.

“I told you you’d get paid when we finished. You nervous ‘bout that bitch?”

Arnold nodded his head.

“Don’t worry. They haven’t found the body yet. The sharks and crabs she loved so much will take care of her. Back the truck up and dump the dirt into the barge. I want to drop another load and get back to town before it gets dark. That old truck doesn’t have any taillights.”

Arnold looked at the closet and hesitated.

“Go on. You know I can’t back that thing,” Blondie said.

Arnold shuffled out the door.

Gale was on her hands and knees watching through the space between the bottom of the door and the floor and lying as still as a stone with her cheek pushed against the dusty floor. She watched Blondie sit on the lounge chair and drink his beer, draining it in two gulps. He tossed the can on the floor and opened another one. While she watched he took a leather pouch out of his back pocket and set it beside him on the chair. There was a small glass pipe in the pouch, and he held a lighter to the end of it. He inhaled and held his breath until he started coughing and wheezing. Then he cursed and pounded on his chest with his fist.

She heard the truck start and then felt the vibrations as it backed down the wharf that was attached to the fish house. She relaxed a little when Blondie took another hit from the pipe and walked outside.

“All done. There’s no more room in the boat,” she heard Arnold say when they walked back inside. Arnold stared right at the closet.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Blondie said and stretched his arms above his head. Then he walked over and relieved himself through a hole in the floor. Both men walked back outside, and Arnold closed the door to the warehouse behind him.

Gale’s heart was pounding when she heard the old marine diesel engine cough to life. Free from the chain she stood up and got ready to run, waiting to hear the old barge depart. She would go right through anyone who got in her way. Her hand was on the closet doorknob when she heard the warehouse door open, and Arnold came back inside. He opened the closet, and without saying anything he locked the handcuff around her ankle and went back outside.

Chapter Sixteen

Coming back from St. Helena Island, Hall slowed for the no wake zone in Skull Creek and looked over at the Lowcountry Seafood docks. He saw someone on one of the shrimp boats and decided to stop.

The fishing guide, the one who helped him free the dolphin and turned out to be Gale’s brother, was working on one of the winches that hauled in the nets. His arms were greasy from his elbows to his fingers, and parts of the winch were strewn across the deck. He noticed Hall and gestured for him to come aboard.

“Did they have any luck today?” Hall asked.

“No,” Silas answered. He didn’t slow in his efforts, and Hall wondered if he had made a mistake by stopping to talk. While he worked in silence a great blue heron floated out of the night sky and landed on the gunwale of the boat, next to Silas. Its wingspan was as wide as Hall was tall. Silas picked up a small dead fish and threw it to the great bird, which caught the delicacy and gulped it into its long beak. Hall watched the bulge in the long, slender neck of the bird move downward until it disappeared into the bird’s body.

“That’s Gale’s bird,” Silas said. “She found him covered with oil one day out in the sound. He had lost so many feathers that he couldn’t fly, so Gale nursed him back and fed him scraps when she helped me clean fish. Now I can’t get rid of the damn thing. He flies in here all the time, expecting to get fed.”

The large bird squawked loudly, almost as if it took issue with how he had been described. It made a few more noises and then lifted off the dock, flying low over the water toward Pinckney Island.

“I wonder if he knows she’s gone,” Hall said.

The two men watched Gale’s bird until it disappeared into darkness. Hall broke the silence once again.

“Do you know where Gale was going yesterday?” he asked.

Silas shook his head.

“I know she planned to check a waterfront development near Beaufort, but she mentioned she wanted take you by there on the way to eat supper with Jimmy and Rebecca. Most likely she got a report from someone and went to check it out.”

“Have you checked her office?” Hall asked.

“Yeah,” Silas answered. He seemed embarrassed.

“Her journal was up to date, right up to the night before she disappeared.”

Hall nodded his head and thought for a while. Then he had an idea.

“Did she have her own telephone line?” he asked.

“Yes,” Silas said.

“Let’s check something out,” Hall said.

Silas unlocked the small office and Hall was saddened once again by the emptiness that existed where Gale should have been. He sat down at her desk and picked up the telephone receiver. He caught a whiff of her sweet scent when he put the phone to his ear.

“Do you know if anyone has used this since she disappeared?” Hall asked.

“I think I’m the only one who’s been in here since she’s been gone and I haven’t used it,” he answered.

Hall punched the star button and a two-digit code. He was connected to another line, and it began to ring. An older sounding woman answered the phone. After identifying himself, Hall asked the woman if she knew Gale Pickens.

“No, I don’t believe I do,” she answered.

Hall was about to hang up when she continued on with her previous sentence. Hall had mistaken her pause for an ending.

“The only Gale I know is that young lady who is working to keep our water free from pollution.”

Biting his tongue to keep from interrupting the woman again, Hall learned she had called Gale the day before yesterday to report some dead fish floating in the water near her house. Hall began writing the directions down and realized she was describing the creek where he had collected the dead fish yesterday. Disheartened, he hung up the phone.

“She reported the fish kill I checked out yesterday,” Hall said.

Silas nodded and looked out the window.

Hall continued to look over Gale’s desk. He picked up a framed photograph and asked Silas who was standing next to Gale.

“That’s Representative Horry. He helped pass new state-wide regulations about the use of fertilizers and pesticides on golf courses. The legislation passed, but he didn’t get re-elected.”

“Strong golf course lobby?” Hall asked.

“You could say that. The money in this county is on Hilton Head Island, the same place the high-dollar golf courses are. It’s hard to keep the greens green in the middle of August without a little dye and other petro chemicals,” Silas explained.

Hall considered the possibility. Could someone have gotten so upset over the new laws that they took revenge on Gale? Silas answered that question for him.

“The developers were smart enough to turn things around. The golf courses advertise that they are sixty per cent organic, the best percentage in the country. They forget to tell everyone it wasn’t their idea.”