Haunted

20

Carmelo was following us. I could feel the rumble of his engine through our hull despite the smoke and clatter of the little outboard. Nothing to see behind us, though, because we had rounded several bends, and another sharp turn lay ahead. I said, “He’s following our motor slick.”

“Our what?”

I motioned toward a trail of froth left by the outboard’s exhaust. “He knows there’s a boat ahead of him.”

“But he can’t be sure it’s us. It could be anybody-unless Tyrone set us up.”

“Tyrone wouldn’t do that,” I said, which came out sharper than intended. “We can’t outrun him, we have to find a place to hide. Do you recognize this part of the river? We need a spot too shallow or too narrow for him to follow.”

Belton sat facing me, looking aft, still fixated on the branches he’d heard breaking ten minutes before. “A spotlight. Carmelo just turned on a spotlight.”

I glanced back to see a smoky beam ricochet off the clouds. “That’s good. The moon’s bright enough, he’d only use a light to search for us onshore. That means he’s not sure we’re in a boat. If he was sure, he’d be on us by now. Top end, that Bass Cat probably does sixty.”

Belton said, “Then I was right,” and allowed his eyes to explore ahead. “We never got more than a few miles north of the RV park. It gets narrow fast and Carmelo was worried about damaging his propeller. There was a little spot I wanted to see. I suggested we use his trolling motors, but he wouldn’t give in. This was two days ago.” He swung his legs around to face forward. “I remember a place where the river forks. Oh, and a couple of feeder creeks where Carmelo said the bass fishing was particularly good.” His head swiveled like slow radar. “I don’t know… it all looks so different at night.”

I pivoted the tiller without slowing for the next turn and followed the concave bank. The current wasn’t strong enough to abrade snags that lay beneath the surface, but shoals and sunken limbs were easy to spot because the moon was bright behind low sailing clouds. Around the next bend, trees funneled closer, a section of river so narrow it would be difficult for Carmelo to spin his twenty-foot Bass Cat around without coming to a stop. I asked, “Does this look familiar?”

“It’s hard to see anything until we’re past it. I wish we had a light.”

“In my bag there’s a flashlight, but I don’t want to use it unless we have to.” I craned my head forward. “There… to your left… does that look like an opening to a creek?”

It was, but I plowed past because there was another opening ahead and to our right-a pool of shadows like the mouth of a cave where low trees sealed the entrance. I slowed the boat and idled into the bushes after telling Belton, “Duck your head, then get the oars ready. Unless you want me to row.”

“You’re kidding. We’d need a machete to cut our way in here.” He was fighting off leaves and spiderwebs.

I killed the engine, stood, and snapped a few limbs, letting them hang. As I did, the rumble of Carmelo’s boat moved closer, no spotlight showing now. “Okay… help me push us back into the river. Once we’re clear, I’ll row. “

“Row where?”

I waited until I had the boat moving, skating across the surface like a water spider. “He’ll follow our motor slick and think we somehow disappeared into that cut. Or even get out to explore on foot. That’ll give us time to find a hiding spot in the creek we just passed.”

“Smart girl.” Belton nodded, but then reconsidered. “I don’t know… We’ll be on the same side of the river as the serpentarium. Maybe we should keep going.”

“There’s no time,” I said. “Open my bag. There’s mosquito netting in there and spray. We’ll need it.”

Belton replied, “I still think the other side of the river is safer.”

It wasn’t snakes he was worried about.

CARMELO AND THEO were in the Bass Cat, close enough to hear their voices but impossible to see because we were twenty yards up a feeder creek, hidden under moss and limbs, when they stopped and used the spotlight.

Theo’s voice: “Boats don’t just disappear. See the broken branches?”

Carmelo: “Get that damn light out of my eyes. More likely, they went to the road and hitchhiked. Probably already talked to the cops. Fat old man, should’a broke his neck and taken all them maps and files. How you think he knows so much?”

“You’re saying a boat can disappear? I don’t see any slick upriver. Their trail ends here.”

“That don’t mean nothing if they run close to the bushes.”

“Tree branches don’t break themselves. Take the shotgun and get in the water. “

“Huh?”

“Hike in there and have a look.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because you still owe me five grand for this goddamn boat, that’s why. No… I’ll hand you the gun after you’re over the side. They can’t be far.”

Garbled complaints from Carmelo preceded the splash of a man lowering himself into the water.

“A motor slick don’t mean nothing if she run close. The girl’s a fishing guide. That’s something a fishing guide would do. And not bad-lookin’ neither, if you know what I mean.” Laughter.

“Just do what I tell you.”

“The boy genius, I keep forgetting. You don’t think she’s got a nice rack? Well, she does-I found out for sure when I patted her down. And them legs-long legs can be fun on a woman.”

Theo replied with something too rude to repeat, then added, “Like a stork-she’s all yours.”

“I take you up on that one. Man… this muck… it like walking in shit.” More splashing, then silence. “They’d’ve needed a chain saw to go any farther.”

“Keep looking. They might have found a canoe. Maybe the one with the electric motor-that thing’s fast. I told you to find out which boat’s missing.”

“Trolling motors don’t leave a slick, man. Hell… there ain’t nothing in here to see. Call the midget twins. You should have heard from them by now. We’re wasting time.”

“Only if someone tries to slip past the docks. That’s what I told them. You’re saying it’s too narrow even for a Gheenoe? They could have taken the one with the kicker.”

“Look for yourself.”

“Well, someone broke these branches. Why would they bother?”

“While we’re standing here jawing, that girl and old man could be getting away. Another mile or so north, it’s too narrow for us. Depends on what they stole-if they’re in a boat, which I doubt they are. You know what tickles me? Both them marks actually believed I was simpleminded.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t convinced me. Come on. We’ll take a look upriver.”

Carmelo said to Theo, “How can I when you’re blinding me with that damn light?”

The Bass Cat’s engine slipped into reverse. The noise of cavitation cloaked the conversation that followed, Theo speaking in a low voice, Carmelo replying, “Well… if you say so.”

Belton’s hand found my shoulder and gave me a pat. “Good job.”

I whispered, “They’re not gone yet.” We were scrunched low, both of us clinging to foliage to hold the boat steady. Seconds later I said, “Quiet. They’re coming this way.”

The bass boat was idling downriver, not upriver. That’s what alerted me. Willow boughs formed an awning, a curtain I could part. Through a veil of leaves I saw the spotlight probe the entrance of the feeder creek… then the boat appeared, two cookie-cutter men standing behind the console in silhouette. The spotlight panned toward me. I ducked and leaned my shoulder against Belton as a warning. He understood. He got a better grip on the branch above, which allowed me a free hand to find the pistol. As the men idled closer, I raised the weapon and aimed it at the spotlight.

Carmelo’s voice: “We’re kicking mud. I don’t want to fry another water pump. You know… I think that girl would’a pulled the trigger. I truly do. Back there in the Land Rover.”

Theo’s response was muffled.

“She could shoot us from the bushes, hide anywhere and wait for us to go by. Bang-bang-bang-just like that. That’s why I don’t like this poking-around crap.”

Another muffled response but lengthier.

Carmelo disagreed. “That’s one way. But it ain’t the best way.”

Theo spoke louder. “You leave the thinking to me, Einstein,” then rambled on for a while before allowing Carmelo an opening.

“All I’m saying is, you take the shock collars off them monkeys, there’s no telling who they attack. It’s not like they fussy-I’ll shoot that damn female, she charges me again. Don’t think I won’t. Liked to bit my arm off, that time.”

“After what you did-good. And don’t call them monkeys.”

“You weren’t even around. All I did was compliment her on her pretty pink-”

Theo hissed, “Shut up,” then his voice softened. “Hey… what’s that over there?”

I felt Belton squeeze my knee when the light found the overhang where we were hidden. A bright wafer of white that probed and expanded, steam rising off the water where moths collected, then the light swung away.

Carmelo continued talking. “As if that damn animal understood what I said. Shit, just crazy to let them two loose. You can hide a dead body every few years or so and get away with it. Fine. But more than two in one night, man, it’s us they’ll send to prison. You keep them damn monkeys on a leash or I’m done with this business. I mean it this time.” He hacked, hacked again and spit. “That’s not to say I won’t find that gold and silver on my own.”

Theo snapped, “Shut up. Just shut up,” then got control of himself and spoke in a more careful way. “I think you’re right. They’re not in a boat. Let’s head back.”

“Say what?”

“You heard me.”

“What’s got into you? I thought you wanted to head upriver. Might as well since we’re here.”

“I’m worried about Oliver. He wasn’t in his room and goddamn snakes everywhere. There’s no telling what else that bitch did to him.”

“Lucia-yeah, good riddance. Total bitch.”

Theo said, “No, you idiot, that hick with the smart mouth. I’d like to see what Savvy does to her if Oliver’s hurt. In fact, that’s what I’ll do-let Savvy handle it.”

“I ain’t got nothing to do with that, I just told you.” The engine clanked into reverse. “Shit… Hang on… Sit yourself so I can see.”

The creek was so narrow, the boat had to back all the way to the river. Several minutes later the engine revved and powered southward. It left a wake of squawking birds, a wash of waves that dissipated as the engine faded, then suddenly went silent. Belton waited to speak. “Theo wanted us to hear that.”

“I know. I lost track of their engine. Did they stop?”

“He wasn’t convinced we’re here, though. More of a just-in-case thing. He’s afraid you’ll shoot. Me, I wouldn’t hesitate. Are you sure you don’t want me to take the gun?”

I said, “I’m wondering if he dropped Carmelo at the point, then stopped downriver to see what happens. What else explains why it took them so long to leave?”

Belton slapped a mosquito on his cheek and stretched his legs. “Stay here for a while and listen, I guess. What do you think? It’s not quite ten-thirty.”

I returned the pistol to the backpack and left the bag open. “I want to disinfect those cuts on your arms. We’ll give it half an hour. If it was Theo who stayed behind, he can’t keep quiet that long. Roll your sleeves up.” I used the flashlight for a moment-several deep gouges beneath dried blood-then switched it off and went to work from memory.

He said, “Don’t worry about me, how are you feeling?”

“The Benadryl pills made me a little sleepy. Otherwise, fine… Belton?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I want to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“Now would be a good time to tell me that secret you’ve been holding back.”

A FEW MINUTES after eleven I drifted the boat clear and paddled toward the river, the water shallow enough that I used an oar as a pole. For the first time in my life, I despaired of moonlight, because the moon flung my shadow ahead like a warning to anyone who might await. Belton and I had agreed no talking, so we traveled in a hush of insects with a northwest breeze that tasted of smoke. He sat with his back to me, hollow-eyed, heavier for the history he had shared, me standing in the stern so I could use the tiller to rudder.

How do you comfort a man who, after four years’ searching, is finally convinced his missing son was murdered? Worse, two men who at the very least had played a role in that murder were now chasing us.

“I was a poor excuse for a father and a worse husband. Kenneth was only twelve when we divorced, so he naturally sided with his mother. She remarried, so did I. That began a twenty-year estrangement.” Belton, sitting in darkness, had kept his voice low, spoke matter-of-factly as if time had distanced him from events.

“After police notified me of Ken’s disappearance-this was four years ago-I sat down and counted the times I’d made a serious effort to reconcile. There was once when he graduated from high school, then another after he got his master’s. That’s it. Both times, he refused. And, know what? Secretly, I was relieved. Relieved. Can you imagine? All the awkwardness, I guess, that comes with patching up a relationship, he spared me that. I was fixated on building my business, living the new life I’d planned. Selfish, an overachiever. It’s strange how people like me rationalize the damage we do. We’re convinced there’s plenty of time to make amends, but that’s a lie. It’s a lie that postpones guilt and buys us freedom. You won’t be able to understand, Hannah. I’ve met damn few who are genuinely good and decent. People like you stand out.”

Belton’s story did not mesh with the person I had believed him to be, so I could only respond, “We all do mean things. You’ve changed or you wouldn’t be here. When did you start looking for Kenneth?”

A year after police had tracked all leads to a dead end, Belton had sold his business and gone to work on the case on his own. As police knew, the son had an addiction problem-painkillers after a skiing accident, oxycodone his favorite. Because drugs were the focus of the investigation, the disappearance was dismissed as an unfortunate but all-too-common side effect. Belton was willing to believe what seemed obvious but wanted details.

Then everything changed. A year ago, he had found Kenneth’s hidden hard drive and paid an electronics expert skilled enough to decrypt what it contained. Gleaning the names of more drug dealers was the objective, but Belton discovered something else. He was aware that his son had embraced a hobby while in rehab-metal detectors and the American Civil War-but until then did not realize the significance. Kenneth was as driven as his father. Florida, with its little-known and often untouched battlefields, soon became an obsession. He spent a month at the National Archives, where he accessed forgotten diaries and letters. By the next winter he had unique files on the Battle of Natural Bridge near Tallahassee and battles fought at Olustee and Santa Rosa Island and Fort Brooke, Tampa. He visited them all as a devoted hobbyist. So far, nothing to hide. What the hard drive revealed, though, was that Kenneth returned to those sites at night with his metal detector and dug for artifacts that he sold on the black market. It was criminal behavior that meshed with his addiction to unscripted drugs.

“Four months ago Ken’s notes led me to a collector who lives outside Labelle. A nice guy, once I’d convinced him I was an artifact hound and knew a young collector from Virginia named Kenneth. He had no idea why I was really there, didn’t even know that Ken had disappeared. It’s the way that business works: don’t ask, don’t tell. Stick to dollar amounts and small talk. He gave me an e-mail address for Theo Ivanhoff-identified only as T.I. in my son’s notes. And he said Ken had asked him where he could rent a motorboat to do some bass fishing on the Telegraph River.”

“The canoe we found,” I said, “which could have had a motor.”

“I don’t want to believe that, but I’m afraid so. Anyway, that was my big break. Know why?” Belton had to gather himself before he could explain, “Ken hated fishing. Too impatient. Like father, like son-my god, I wish I had gotten to know him better.”

For some losses, there is no comfort. Even so, I tried by saying, “Once we’re out of this mess, I’ll help in any way I can. Promise.”

Find the killer or killers of the missing Kenneth Matás, I meant, but felt certain we already had.

THE MOUTH OF the feeder creek was deeper, but I waited until we had drifted into the river to use both oars and turn the boat north. It would have been just as safe to start the engine if Theo or Carmelo was watching from nearby-safer, probably-but that didn’t dawn on me until Belton suddenly stirred and looked behind us. “Was that the wind?”

Oarlocks creaked when I folded the oars inboard and let the boat glide. To the southwest, the sky was a charcoal sketch of trees, moon, and a sky that boiled with slow-motion clouds. “There could be a squall building. Some of those look like they hold rain.” I placed the pistol on the seat beside me. “Rowing’s a waste of time. I should’ve started the engine to begin with.” Then hollered toward the bank, “Carmelo… Theo. If you’re here, let’s get this over with. We’re not going back, so if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Belton cupped hands to his ears and whispered, “Listen.”

Far, far in the distance, I heard what sounded like a school of fish feeding. No… one big fish that crashed the surface, waited, then crashed the surface again. The rhythm varied but was so relentless I soon changed my mind. “Could be a waterspout. I heard a tornado once. It sounded like a waterfall coming through the trees until it got close, then it was more like a diesel truck. A loud, roaring noise.”

“Trees,” Belton repeated, thinking about it. “Yes… something coming through the trees. But still a long way off.”

I cocked my head and concentrated. Gradually the roar of a waterfalls became the rhythmic crash of what might have been an animal swinging through the forest canopy, growing louder as it traveled toward us from the southwest.

I said, “Oh my lord,” and got to my feet. “We’ve got to move.” I started the engine and put the boat in gear.

Belton said, “We’re imagining things-it’s just the wind. Before a rain, the wind does that. You don’t really think it could be-”

“Of course I don’t,” I said. “But there’s no point in sitting here.”

“It’s because of Theo, the power of suggestion. That chimp is a damn monster-you don’t have to tell me. Out here, though, he wouldn’t know where to look. Animals will attack, sure, but they don’t follow people for miles. The whole notion is absurd.” Belton seemed satisfied yet soon added, “I’ll watch behind us while you steer. Give me the gun.”

I couldn’t do that. He was an old man with a guilty conscience who believed he had nothing to live for, therefore nothing to lose-a dangerous combination. That’s what I told myself anyway, although in truth my reasons were too personal, too complex, to understand, let alone explain. The Devel had been owned by my late Uncle Jake. Entrusting it to someone who was not afraid was an admission of my own self-doubt. Jake would not have approved.

I replied with an evasion. “If you see something I don’t, the gun is all yours.”