Deadly Touch - Heather Graham Page 0,104
Raina said. “Frank Peters? You were a pair of murdering teachers? I mean, it’s obvious the man is horrible, but I’m learning. Being a bad person doesn’t make you a murderer. So who was with you when you took Jennifer Lowry? Jennifer said there were two of you.”
“Jennifer is dead! She couldn’t have said anything,” Loretta argued.
“There were two of you.”
“Oh, and how do you know that?” Loretta demanded.
“Like I said, she told me.”
Loretta stared at her, and then started laughing. “You’re crazy as a loon. This might well be a mercy killing. Damn you, Tate—give me the knife!”
She still didn’t have the knife.
It was now or never.
Raina took off at light speed, slamming into Loretta so that she fell, and raced straight into the brush and muck surrounding the hammock, seeking a trail through the firm ground. She staggered onto one and kept running.
Straight into another man.
Straight into the arms of death?
* * *
He needed an airboat.
Axel knew he needed to follow as quickly as possible. He spotted one and ran toward it, seeing Billie Osceola was just coming in.
“Hey!” Billie called cheerfully. “You’re already here, too. Great!”
“I need the airboat,” Axel said.
“You—what?” Billie was stepping out.
“I need the airboat. Sorry!”
Axel jumped on, followed by the dog, and took the helm.
“Hey!” Billie called again. But Axel already had the vessel geared again. It shot out over the shallow water and grasses.
He vaguely heard his phone ringing. He concentrated on only one thing—reaching Raina as quickly as possible.
But it kept ringing, shrill, even against the thunderous whirr of the airboat.
He pulled it from his pocket. Andrew.
“Andrew, get out here. He took Raina. Frank Peters took Raina.”
“Frank Peters is sitting by the fire.”
“What?”
“Frank Peters is sitting by the fire. But Nigel just reached me. He tried to get you, but you weren’t answering.”
“She’s gone, Andrew. She’s gone. Someone got to her. Raina is gone.”
“So is Jordan Rivera.”
“What? He’s just out of a coma, hadn’t moved.”
“Oh, he moved, all right. He knocked out a male nurse, stole his clothing and left the hospital. They don’t know when exactly. Possibly hours ago.”
“So, it may be Jordan?” Axel asked incredulously. He kept one hand hard at the helm. He was crashing through low water and high water, over roots and other obstructions. He stared ahead, desperate to find the course of the airboat that went ahead of him by minutes.
“Maybe, but...”
“But what?”
“Do you know who isn’t by the fire?”
“Who? Andrew, just talk to me. And get the hell out here!”
“It’s Loretta, Axel. Loretta is gone.”
“Just start searching. Whoever the hell it is, they have her. Andrew, get anyone—anyone we trust.”
He hung up, looking ahead desperately.
And then he saw the ghost.
The ghost of Jennifer Lowry. She stood by a massive tree that boarded a narrow strip of deep wetland.
She beckoned to him, deep sorrow in her eyes.
Titan began to bark. That was the way to go.
He gritted his teeth, ducking beneath the limbs of an outstretched tree.
Then he saw Peg-legged Pete and Joshua and a whole lineup of pirates, waving and guiding him through the maze of little islands.
He wasn’t sure if it was the ghosts, or his own heart beating in his ears. He heard a word, repeated over and over again.
Hurry. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
* * *
Jordan was in bad shape. He caught Raina, but could barely hold her.
“If they killed Jennifer,” he said. “If they killed Jennifer...”
“Jordan, did you...?”
“Did I kill Jennifer?” he asked. “No! I was falling in love with her. I didn’t want to be in love. I didn’t. But I knew something was wrong, oh, God, I knew. There were things said at work, money that went into strange accounts. And Tate’s father. He’d meet with Loretta Oster. So I started to wonder, and I didn’t want to wonder...”
He staggered back, falling against a tree, slipping down to the ground, barely conscious.
“Jordan, why did you leave the hospital?” she asked anxiously.
“Had to. I hit the nurse. I took his uniform, and I just walked out and they didn’t see.”
“How did you get here?” she demanded.
He didn’t answer; his head fell.
She hunkered down by him, searching his pockets, hard going with her hands still tied. Nothing except a wad of bills in the nurse’s aqua tunic he was wearing.
“Taxi,” he mumbled. “Stole...airboat.” He managed to look up at her, his eyes vacant and watering. He was fading. Either exhaustion or medication or the fact he’d awakened from a medically induced coma to make his way out to the Everglades. “Had to