Evil's Root

Chapter 13

Ernie thanked the long haul trucker and jumped down from the cab, only a few blocks from Sandra's. He stood on the corner, as the huge semi groaned past him and down the quiet street, rehearsing his lines and preparing himself for the part where he would take her in his arms and commit his life to seeing she had everything she ever wanted.

He wasn't really sure about how yet, and if she asked he would have to fudge a bit, but in the end he would so overwhelm her with his sincerity she would forgive him . . . she had to. He stepped off the curb and went into a little jog as he headed for her house.

No lights. No answer to his knock. He checked his watch and found he was almost bang on the expected time. Where the heck could she be? He wandered around to the rear and saw that there were no cars anywhere and he suddenly felt his stomach turning over very, very slowly. They needed a car; that was how they were getting away. He considered hanging around but decided instead to go to the bar in case she had to work and just couldn't get away on time. If she wasn't there he'd come back and check here again. After that, Ernie's planning board was blank.

Sandra never went to work at all. Her boss said he gave her the day off and none of the customers had any idea of where she might be. Ernie was eventually asked to leave because he kept insisting that somebody must know something. Outside, he paced back and forth totally at sea. Visions of his one night with Sandra played themselves to a frazzle in his jumbled mind. He banged a fist into his hand and started back to her house; maybe she'd been to the store or something.

Ted paid off the cab, grabbed his bag and ignoring the cabbie's smirk at his pants and tie and hobbled across the side walk toward Sandra's just as a familiar figure strode up the street. He eased himself back behind a hedge and watched as the man in the all black outfit stomped up the steps and hammered on the door.

Son-of-a-bitch! Was the guy that shot him and Sandra in league! Ted hopped out from his hiding spot and hobbled down the block to Sandra's, his trimmed pants unravelling in long thready trails down his legs.

"You! You little bastard, stay right where you are!" Ted fumbled the gun out of his bag and aimed it at Ernie. "Get your hands up!"

Ernie nearly fainted. Here was the guy he robbed and shot, aiming his own gun at him. "Don't shoot! My hands are up."

"Get on the ground."

"It's dirty."

"Get on the bloody ground!" Ted waved the gun menacingly as Ernie complied. "Where's my case?"

"I don't have it."

"I can see that you jerk, I asked where it was."

"It was stolen off me." Ernie tried to keep his sweater from getting against the suspect lawn.

Ted choked noisily. "Stolen. you think I just rolled off a melon truck?" He gave Ernie a vicious kick in the side.

"So help me! I wasn't even out of town when some car pulled up and a gun was jammed in my face. Whoever it was knew what I had." Ernie reached back and rubbed his side, his sweater now covered in dirt and grass stains.

"Move again and you're dead, asshole." Ted fumed angrily; breath almost turning to steam blew noisily from his nose. "One last chance. Where is my case?"

"I swear I don't have it any more. It really was stolen from me."

The plea sounded so pathetic, Ted couldn't help but believe the guy. He lowered the gun and ordered him up. "Start from the beginning, pal, and don't leave anything out. How did you know to come to Portsdown and rob me?"

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As Gwen pulled up to the marina gate, Sandra popped the cork on the bottle of champagne and waved merrily from the top of the gangplank. Gwen climbed out of the car and, carrying the money case and her travel suitcase, let herself in through the gate and down to the trot. The tiny wheels rattled noisily as she dragged the suitcase across the wooden planks, and when she reached the boat, Sandra bounced down to greet her with a mighty hug.