Page 37 of Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat
‘Now we’re well and truly up how about I fix us some breakfast?’ Tom’s cheery smile didn’t fool her for a minute. She considered forcing him to tell her what had beensaid but kissed him instead. Later would be soon enough to find out what he was holding back.
Tom would be buying Sandy’s beers for a damn long time but it’d be worth it. Out of Fee’s hearing he’d asked his brother not to gossip about them, hopefully buying them some time. Fee showed more guts than him this morning and Sandy’s parting comment was that Tom had found him a good one and hebetter not screw up. The casual observation stopped him short and made Tom wonder what Fee might expect of him now. After breakfast he’d made the excuse of needing to finish painting the canoe shed but Fee only gave him a sweet smile and invited him to join her for dinner later. Tom came within a hair’s breadth of offering to go with her when she mentioned her plan to drive into Knoxville and buya new camera but managed to resist.
He took advantage of the pale sunshine and worked through lunch to get the last coat of white paint on the shed door. A sudden movement in the trees caught his eye and Tom glimpsed a large, dark shape moving through the shadows. Pretty sure it wasn’t an animal he laid down his brush on top of the open paint tin. He inched along the path before veeringoff through the long grass moving in the quiet deliberate way his father taught him when they first went hunting. An empty cigarette packet lay in the grass and he bent down to pick it up. Officially, smoking wasn’t allowed in the resort but he had to trust his guests to comply. Walking further along he spotted a crumpled crisp bag and an empty soup tin before a glint of metal caught his eye. Tomfrowned as he retrieved his aluminium water bottle from the dense grass He pushed away the niggling idea of any connection between this and the two escapees, reassured by his father’s update last night on another unconfirmed sighting of the pair in Jacksonville. He kicked at a large stone and exposed a small ring of blackened ground, the remnants of a recent fire. Kids with nothing better to domessing around that was all.
‘Long time no see, MrChambers.’
Damn. ‘Hello, Pete.’ Life in prison hadn’t filled out the young man’s scrawny body but his deep-set eyes were dark with weariness. ‘I thought you’d have headed for sunnier parts by now.’
‘Who’ve we got here then, boy?’ A deep, gravelly voice boomed out and a man with a massive build stepped out from the trees.
Randy Watling. 35years old. Heavyset. Light brown hair. Blue eyes. A rattlesnake tattoo on his right arm and a jagged scar on his left cheek.
‘Tom Chambers. He owns this place.’ Kemp’s voice wobbled. ‘He’s an ex-cop. His daddy’s the local sheriff.’
‘You dickhead.’ Watling snarled. ‘You didn’t fuckin’ tell me that when you brought us here.’
‘But your pal from Floridawasn’t around to pick us up and we didn’t have no money. We couldn’t pester my folks because the cops would be checkin’ up on them so I thought—’
‘Thought? You haven’t got a damn brain to think with, you moron. I should’ve known better than to trust some dumb yokel.’
‘What’re you goin’ to do, Randy?’ Kemp asked and Tom was pretty sure he wouldn’t care for the answer.
Watlingswung his right hand out from behind his back and waved a gleaming knife in the air with a harsh laugh. ‘I’m thinkin’ I might cut up his pretty face.’
‘That wouldn’t be a smart move,’ Tom ventured.
‘How’d you work that one out, smartass?’
He forced his legs to relax because if he decided to make a run for it he needed them to function. ‘It won’t be hard for the authoritiesto put things together.’
‘Oh yeah, and what fuckin’ difference is it going to make to me?’ Watling jeered. ‘I’m headed for Death Row anyway. I might as well go down for you too. One more don’t matter.’
Tom swallowed hard as the cold logic settled in the air between them.
‘I’m not gettin’ involved in no murder.’ Kemp turned chalk white. ‘That wasn’t our deal. I said I’dget us to the meetin’ point and you’d give me a ride to Florida then we’d split up.’
Watling swung his other arm in a wide arc and swatted Pete to his knees. The young man flung out his hand in an effort to stop himself falling but his wrist hit the ground and buckled. The loud crack of bone breaking ricocheted around them along with Pete’s agonised screams. Instinctively, Tom moved tohelp the boy.
‘Leave him,’ Watling yelled. He gave his accomplice’s arm a swift kick, setting off another round of pitiful cries. ‘Shut up or I’ll slice you.’
On his own he could outrun Watling but Tom’s conscience wouldn’t let him abandon Pete. The boy might be dumb but didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood. He forced himself to ignore Pete’s whimpers and faced the otherman. ‘I’ll do you a deal.’
‘You’llgivemea deal?’
‘You escape from here on your own and I’ll take care of Pete,’ Tom offered. ‘Why did you bother with this useless kid in the first place?’
‘He knows the area.’
Tom snorted. ‘Have you any idea how many times this dipshit got caught doing stuff around here growing up? He’s a goddamn liability. Got the brains of apeanut.’
‘You’ll set the cops on me.’ Watling’s eyes turned to ice.
‘There’s no cell phone coverage here. I’d have to drive into Pine Ridge and that’ll give you a forty-five minute head start before anyone can get back here.’ Out of the corner of his eye Tom saw Pete move. The kid grabbed his partner’s ankle with his good arm and Watling stumbled, lashing out with the knife andbarely missing Pete’s neck. Tom hurled himself forward but the man suddenly crumpled to his knees with a loud yell.
‘Don’t move,’ Fee hissed. With one knee pressed into Watling’s back she reached her right hand around his neck to rest a curved knife against the man’s throat.
Tom stared at her in shock. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
