“I saw Tom and Marty huddling and looking worried,” Chad picked up the story, “so I decided to see what they were up to. Followed them to Marty’s den where I eavesdropped and found out everything including the fact that Fisher might be a homicidal stalker.”
“Broke in,” Marty smiled. “Demanded to be part of the posse.”
“But why didn’t you just call the sheriff?” Elgin asked, glancing up from the towels now starting to turn red.
“Because as Mr. Simons pointed out,” Marty answered, “we had no way of knowing if Fisher actually had you and if he did, where he might be holding you. Not to mention that if he had abducted you, the sight of police cars might have caused him to do something drastic. So we decided to reconnoiter as it were. Since this place is only about ten minutes from my house, it seemed the logical place to start.”
“And Jim?” she asked timidly.
Marty sighed, glancing from Chad to Elgin and back again. “We could see through the window Fisher was armed,” he replied quietly. “Fortunately, so was Mr. Simons. He broke the window, shouted at Fisher to drop his gun and put up his hands. Fisher fired and Mr. Simons returned.” He stopped, looking again at Elgin, the pain of his story evident in his face. “Before we could do anything, he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.”
“Oh!” Her eyes went immediately to his body sprawled on the floor. Unaccountably, after everything that had happened, she could only remember her lifelong friend, Jim and the tears started anew, Harm running his fingers lightly up and down her arm, powerless to comfort her.
Charlie reappeared, pale and drawn. Quickly crossing the living room, he knelt by Harm, wadding up more towels.
“How you doing?” he asked, smiling thinly and replacing the soaked towels.
“Other than it hurts like hell?” Harm managed.
“We have to get him to a hospital,” Elgin sobbed.
“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to hold a little longer, Pard. We’ve got a problem.”
“What do you mean, ‘a problem?’” Marty leaned down slightly.
“9-1-1 says there’s a major smash up on the north end of the lake. Chain reaction. At least ten, twelve cars. Most of the sheriff’s deputies are either on scene or stuck in the traffic trying to get there. Only ambulance and paramedics on this side of the lake are up there too. They’re trying to get another team up there from West Shore right now. And the Life Flight ‘copter from West Lake is making an emergency flight to the coast with a kidney for a transplant.”
“What about a local doctor?” Chad ventured. “Surely there must be someone on this side of the lake?”
“I’m afraid not,” Marty shook his head. “We’ve been trying to get a doctor up here for years. I’ve offered to build and furnish a clinic and pay a doctor myself but there’s such a shortage and we just can’t afford to compete with big cities and rich suburbs.”
“Then let’s put him in my car and take him to West Shore.”
“According to the dispatcher, the fireworks traffic is a solid jam all around the lake. Who knows how long it might take to get there.” Charlie glanced down at Harm. “Don’t worry, Camp. We’ll think of something.”
“I know.”
They lapsed into silence, watching as the stains on the towels grew larger.
Suddenly, Marty snapped his fingers and dug into his slacks for his phone. “I think I might have an idea.” He punched a speed dial button and waited a few seconds.
“What…?”
Marty held up a finger and spoke quickly into the phone. “Paul? It’s Marty. Listen, I don’t have any time to explain. Is ‘The Monkey’ ready to go?”
“Yes, sir,” the boatman answered. “In fact, everyone’s boarded. We’re just waiting for you so we can cast off.”
“Get everyone off the boat…now…and get her up to the dock in front of Jim Fisher’s place as quickly as you can.”
“I don’t understand…”
“There’s nothing for you to understand,” Marty snapped, an authority in his voice that Elgin had never heard before. “I’m your boss and I’m giving you an order. Tell everyone that we won’t be going out on the lake for the fireworks this year but that the deck and grounds afford an excellent view of the show. I want ‘The Monkey’ up here and I want her up here now!”
“Yes sir. We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Snapping the phone off, Marty looked at the others. “She’s the fastest thing on the lake,” he told them. “Now, how do we get Mr. Harm down to the dock?”
Chapter Fourteen
“She’s here,” Marty announced as he hurried through the open front door.
Charlie glanced down at Harm and tried to smile. “Taxi’s here, Camp. You ready?”
“Sure” he replied, trying to return his friend’s smile. “Just make sure you guys don’t drop me, okay?”
“Like I’m gonna let anything happen to the guy who signs my checks. You just lie back and take it easy.”
He checked Harm one more time. They’d taken one of Fisher’s large, old fashioned arm chairs from the dining room, laid it on its back and put him in it, securing his arms and legs to the chair’s arms and legs with soft towels. Then they’d tied a bed sheet securely around the whole thing and slid one of the sofa pillows under his head.
Being the largest of them, Chad took his place at Harm’s head, grabbing the chair back on each side just under the arms. Charlie and Marty each took a side, positioning themselves to carry a back and front leg. Elgin walked along side, keeping pressure on the dressing.
On the count, they lifted the chair and started for the dock, winding slowly down the gravel path.
With Paul’s help, they got him on board and settled in the main salon on one of the bench seats under the window. Harm looked up into the silent, star filled sky.
Marty accompanied Paul back to the wheelhouse, watching him for a moment as he fired up the engines and inched away from the dock.
“How long will it take to get to West Shore?”
“An hour maybe. There’ll be a lot of traffic out there tonight.” He glanced at the clock glowing in the dashboard just above his right hand. “Fireworks’ll be starting any time now.”
“What’s the shortest time you’ve ever made the crossing?”
“Forty-three minutes. Four years ago. You made that bet with the loud mouth drunk at The Lodge who called ‘The Monkey’ a scow. Course you were stinking too but it was a hell of a ride.”
“There’s a thousand dollars for every minute you shave off forty-three,” Marty told him calmly. “If you make it under thirty-five, there’ll be an extra ten thousand.”
“Must be a very special friend.”
“She is.”
The pain had relented a little but it didn’t make him feel any better. Harm knew enough first aid to know the numbing effect of shock. They’d managed to slow the blood loss but he could feel a chill settling in, even under the snug blanket that covered him, another sign that he was losing the race.
Beside him, Elgin sat in the chair they’d used as a litter, checking his dressing every few seconds, clutching his hand and trying gamely not to cry. The pain on her beautiful pale face, the silent anguish in those dark eyes hurt worse than the bullet burning in his chest.
“Look,” Chad said, standing behind Elgin and pointing out the window, “the fireworks have started.”
What a lovely way to die, he thought idly. The black sky raining cascades and fountains of red, gold, blue, silver and green, and Elgin close to him. He wished for a wider bench so she could lie down beside him, feel her warm body against him, her soft lips kissing him, murmuring sweet nothings. How wonderful to make love with her just once more…to fill their own private universe with sparklers and streamers and skyrockets.