Chapter Ten
Cautiously, Zelda lifted her head and looked across the room to where Carrie was sleeping. Light came from the brilliant desert moon, seeping through the slits in the shutters and for some moments Zelda watched Carrie. Then with infinite care, she pushed aside the sheet and sat up. She waited, scarcely breathing, then she swung her feet to the floor.
Silence brooded over the ranch house. Zelda made no further move for some moments. She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to make up her mind whether to take the risk of creeping out of the ranch house and over to the cabin or to return to bed. She didn’t know if the fat Italian was awake. She thought it was probable by now he was sleeping, but she couldn’t be sure.
She burned for Riff. If she could reach him, she had no doubt that he could get her away from this place. She had to reach him!
She stood up. Motionless, her heart thumping, she stared at Carrie, but as Carrie made no movement, she picked up the shirt and trousers she had left on a chair by the bed. Very cautiously, she slipped into the trousers, dropped her nightdress on the bed, then put on the shirt.
Carrie moved in her sleep and Zelda froze, her heart fluttering. She waited, then as Carrie went on sleeping, Zelda moved silently on bare feet to the door. She eased it open and stepped out into the lobby. There she stood for some moments, listening. Satisfied there was no sound to alarm her, she crept across to the kitchen, eased open the back door and stepped out into the hot moonlit night.
Around the front of the house, Moe had struggled to keep awake, but he wasn’t made for the endurance of a sleepless night. He had relaxed in the comfortable bamboo chair, his gun held in his lap, and within an hour he had dozed off. Now he was sleeping heavily.
Zelda skirted the house, paused long enough to hear Moe’s soft snoring, then she ran across the lawn, across the sandy drive to the cabin.
In the cabin, Chita had taken over the bedroom and had shut herself in. She lay restlessly on the bed, half dozing, half awake. In the sitting room, Riff too was dozing. He had spent two long hours watching the ranch house, but as the moon moved and shadows closed in around the house he was unable to see Moe. He now had no idea if Moe was awake or asleep. He hadn’t the nerve to go out there. His ear ached. He wasn’t chancing a bullet in the leg. Now, stretched out on two chairs, he dozed and thought of his future with Zelda.
A slight sound alerted Chita. She sat up to listen. A door creaked, then she heard soft whispering coming from the sitting room. She got off the bed and moved silently to the door. She listened, her ear pressed against the door panel. She recognized Zelda’s voice. A hot rush of blood went through her. Carefully, slowly and patiently, she eased back the door handle and gently opened the door no more than an inch so she could hear and yet not be seen.
As the front door of the cabin creaked open, Riff started up, but relaxed when he heard Zelda whisper, “It’s all right, Riff... it’s me.”
She came through the darkness of the room and knelt beside him, her arms going around him, her head against his chest.
“I couldn’t keep away,” she said, her fingers moving through his close-cut hair, careful to avoid his hurt ear. “Are you badly hurt?”
“Where is he?” Riff asked, his thick blunt fingers against her back, pulling her to him. “Is he asleep?”
“Yes.” She moaned softly at the hard, brutal touch of his hands. “Oh, Riff! Can’t we get away? Can’t we go now?”
Riff could see the bright moonlight coming through the shutters. If he went out there now and Moe woke up, Moe could pick him off like a sitting rabbit.
“This Wop can shoot,” he said. “We’ll have to wait. There’s time. You saw what he did to me.” He was speaking in a voice scarcely above a whisper.
“Where is she?” Zelda whispered, her arms tightening around him.
“In the other room... asleep. Keep your voice down. She mustn’t hear us.” He got to his feet, pulling her against him. They stood in the darkness, straining against each other.
Chita shut the door and went back to the bed and sat on it, her hands into fists gripped tightly between her knees. She listened to the faint sounds that came through the panels of the door. Finally, as these sounds became more out of control, she got to her feet. She stood hesitating. There was one way to stop this thing going any further: one way to keep her brother for herself. She heard Zelda stifle a cry of pleasure and pain and that decided her. She crossed to the window and opened the shutters. She looked across at the ranch house, then she climbed out of the window and closed the shutters after her.
Moving silently, she slid around the cabin, keeping in the shadows. There was one patch of moonlight between the cabin and the garage. This she ran through and paused in the shadow of the garage door. She looked back and listened. No one shouted: no one moved. Cautiously, she lifted the swing-up door to the garage, moved into the darkness and then shut the door after her. For some moments she groped impatiently for the light switch, found it and turned it down. She blinked around the garage where the Cadillac and the estate wagon stood, side by side. At the far end of the garage, she found what she was looking for: a long-handled shovel used often enough when the wind caused the sand to form into drifts.
She picked up the shovel, turned off the light, opened the garage door and walked out into the open.
It took her the best part of two hours to find and open Di-Long’s grave. Riff had indicated vaguely where he had buried the Vietnamese, and Chita had to make several false starts before she finally located where the body lay under the sand. By then it was some time after two o’clock and the moon had climbed high, shedding its hard light over the ranch house.
Moe continued to snore softly. Carrie was dreaming of Vic. Riff and Zelda, exhausted, lay on the floor, half sleeping, half awake.
A quarter of a mile from the ranch house, Tom Harper with Letts and Brody, lay at the base of the nearest sand dune to the house. Harper had borrowed a periscope from the Frisco Field Agency. This he had erected so that he could watch the ranch house without being seen. Letts and Brody were asleep. Harper had been keeping close watch on the house, but he had failed to see Chita leave the cabin. The periscope wasn’t much use in the hours of darkness.
Chita regained the bedroom without being seen or heard.
She lay down on the bed. The hatred for her brother and for Zelda gnawed at her. She listened to the continual whispering that came to her from the other room. The sound was like salt in a wound in her body.
Satiated and now bored with Zelda, Riff finally moved away from her.
“You’d better get back,” he said and sat up. “Come on! Get your hands off me!” Brutally, he shoved her away. “Get moving! It’ll be light in an hour.”
Reluctantly, Zelda got to her feet and began to dress.
“Aren’t we getting out of here?” she asked. “I thought...”
“Keep your voice down!” Riff hissed.
“But aren’t we leaving?” she whispered as she pulled up the zip on her trousers.
“Do you want a hole in your skin?” Riff said. He was sick of her now. He had exhausted his lust on her and now he wanted to be rid of her. “That Wop will shoot... and he can shoot!”
“But, darling, you’re not scared of a fat little man like that?” Zelda said, staring at him.
“Him? Who’d be scared of a punk like him? But I don’t go for the gun... he can shoot. Look, get the hell out of here!” Riff waved to the door. “I’ll fix something! You leave me to handle it... go on, beat it!”
No man had ever talked this way to Zelda. She found it exciting.
“You do love me, don’t you?” she said and moved towards him.
“Sure, sure, sure.” Riff was nearly frantic with impatience. “Now get going.”