‘‘I understand. Just let me tend his wound and I’ll tie him back up,’’ she said. God, he’s a little maniac, unpredictable and with a temper, thought Diane. Her hands shook as she reached for Kingsley’s jacket. Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, she kept telling herself.
‘‘You’d better. Remember, I’m watching,’’ he said, grinning at her and pretended to shoot, mimicking an explosion noise before he disappeared from the window.
The ferry rocked back and forth on the water and Diane felt sick. She concentrated on breathing evenly.
Kingsley helped her take off his jacket and shirt, wincing at the effort. Blood was running from the entrance and exit wounds, but they were small and Kingsley could move his arms and shoulders. It was painful, but it was possible. She used strips of his shirt to fashion bandages. She put his jacket back on. She untied and retied his feet, then she tied his hands in front of him.
‘‘I’ve tucked the end of the rope under the loops here where it’s hidden,’’ she said, her mouth close to his ear. ‘‘If he checks your hands, he’ll see that the ropes are tight. But if you pull on this loop here, free the rope and pull on it, it will come undone,’’ she whispered.
‘‘That’s right, you know your knots.’’ He grinned.
Diane thought he looked pale.
‘‘I did your feet the same way,’’ she said.
She got busy and untied her feet and retied them in the same manner as she watched their captor at the helm of the small flatbed ferry.
‘‘I want you to look very sick whenever he sees you,’’ said Diane. ‘‘That way he won’t consider you a threat.’’
‘‘Yes, ma’am,’’ he said. ‘‘That won’t be too hard.’’
‘‘Now we need to eat this food,’’ she said.
‘‘Okay, I was following you up until that point. Why do we need to eat the food?’’ he asked.
‘‘Because I don’t know when the marshals will get here or when we can escape. I think we both know we are going to Clymene’s house. Do you want to eat or drink anything she prepares?’’
‘‘Oh, good point,’’ he said. She gave him a banana.
Diane hoped she could keep hers down. Just focus on the goal, she thought, and breathe slowly and deeply.
They were quietly eating the food when the kid peeked in.
‘‘What are you doing?’’ he asked, pointing the gun.
‘‘Eating,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Oh, okay,’’ he said and went back to the helm.
Diane wondered if Kingsley could swim. If she could get loose she would swim back and get help, but she could do nothing with her hands tied up. She looked at him. He really did look sick. She began trying to untie her rope with her teeth. She was making progress when she saw the kid coming back.
‘‘We’re about to dock. There will be a little jolt, but that’s all.’’ He grinned at them. ‘‘How we doing back there?’’
‘‘Just fine,’’ she said.
They felt a small bump and saw him get down to secure the ferry. She tried to hurry and finish untying her hands, but the kid was quicker than she was. He climbed in the van, walked over to Diane, and put his gun to her temple.
‘‘I don’t want any trouble. None.’’ His voice was very quiet. ‘‘You understand, don’t you?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ whispered Diane. Her voice shook as she spoke, and he laughed.
‘‘Good. I will shoot you.’’ He shoved the muzzle of the gun into her temple until she winced in pain. ‘‘You know I will.’’
He hit Kingsley in the shoulder with his fist and went back to the driver’s seat as Kingsley yelled in pain. Diane could see his eyes in the mirror. He looked amused.
‘‘Arrested development,’’ whispered Kingsley. ‘‘I think Rosewood is as far as this kid had ever been before now. God, that hurt. Damn little bastard.’’
Diane watched out the front window as they drove along a winding dirt road. When the house came into view she was startled. She expected a rundown old mansion past its prime and falling into decay, with hanging vines and huge trees overrunning the place. What she saw was beautiful. The winding paved driveway led up to an oversized freshly painted Greek revival house with large white columns. The front gardens were filled with bed after bed of roses, lilies, and irises in full bloom. A black jaguar was parked in front.
The kid took an offshoot road, drove to the back of the house, and stopped in front of a rock building that looked like it might have been lifted out of Wuthering Heights.
‘‘Here we are. It ain’t home, but who the hell cares,’’ he said, laughing. ‘‘You can untie your legs now.’’
Diane made it look as if it was an effort to untie the rope as she pulled the end of the loop, releasing the bonds on Kingsley’s legs. She did the same with hers. Bobby Banks didn’t watch closely. He kept looking up at the house as if something up there worried him. When their legs were free he led them to the building, locked them in, and left them alone in the dark.
Little light seeped in past the shuttered windows. Diane tried the door but it was bolted shut from the outside.
‘‘Don’t undo your bonds yet,’’ she said. ‘‘Wait until you have somewhere to run to.’’
‘‘I do still have some wits about me,’’ Kingsley said. But it wasn’t a defensive comment, Diane noticed.
She and Kingsley tried the windows. All were nailed shut. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness. It was too much to hope that he had put them in a tool shed. It looked like Daniel Boone’s bedroom. There was a twin bed with a gray wool bedspread, rough-hewn furniture. It was some kind of rustic one-room guesthouse with no bathroom.
‘‘What is this, a playhouse?’’ said Diane.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘Why don’t you lie down on the bed?’’ said Diane.
‘‘We need to get out of here,’’ he said.
‘‘Yes, but you need rest and it would be good for them to think you’re worse off than you are,’’ she said. ‘‘If someone comes, they need to find you lying down.’’
Diane led him to the bed and made him lie down. He was just settled when she heard voices outside that sounded like they were coming their way. She took her phone from her pocket and checked the signal bars. No service, as she suspected. She put it on mute anyway and quickly put it under the chest of drawers, display side down, and stood up to meet whoever was coming to get them.
Chapter 49
Diane was sitting on the bed with Kingsley when the door opened. She could see that it was two people but the light behind them kept her from seeing anything but silhouettes. She waited as they walked in. One was the kid; the other was a woman. The woman turned on a battery-operated lantern and put it on the table. It was a dim light, but Diane could see them clearly. Clymene.