Клэр Донелли - Hiss And Tell

Cale picked her up without any sign of straining at the job and carried her along what Sunny soon realized was a tunnel.

“Another of Great-Grandpa Neal’s built-ins,” Cale explained as he walked. “A rum-running tunnel that goes from the basement of the house to the pier—and also to the gazebo. That was probably an escape hatch. There was another tunnel leading off the Neck, but that one collapsed, so I don’t know where it was supposed to go.”

Sunny shifted uncomfortably. Collapsed. There’s a cheering thought.

“But this section is sound,” Cale assured her. “I made certain of that, just as I made sure the trapdoors in and out of here still work.”

He apparently reached their destination, because he set Sunny down.

“Need both hands for this,” Cale said, sticking the flashlight in his mouth. He approached a wooden section angled into the wall ahead and heaved. It took a couple of tries, but the panel finally gave way, rising up and revealing the blazing sunset.

Cale gathered Sunny up again and stepped outside onto the pier. Behind them, Sunny saw that a section of the stairway leading down to the wharf had swung up. Cale deposited Sunny in the rowboat tied conveniently nearby and then went to shut the secret door. “Now for a little cruise.”

*

Shadow dodged backwhen he heard Sunny being sick. Then he heard footsteps approaching down a long, dark hallway. And far, far away, he saw light. A single sniff was enough to tell him that Smells Good was coming back.

Crouching in the gloom beyond the circle of light, Shadow tried to decide what to do. What he really wanted was to leap on this two-legs with his claws out. But the human was much bigger than he was, and strong. He’d carried Sunny as if she weighed nothing. From the times she’d rolled over on him in bed, Shadow knew that wasn’t true.

And now they were stuck in this dark place. Even if he overcame Smells Good-Acts Bad, could Shadow free Sunny? The sticky stuff around her hands had resisted his efforts to bite it. And it tasted very bad.

When Smells Good picked up Sunny again, Shadow silently trailed along.

They walked for a while, until the male put Sunny down and pushed against a wall. It moved away, and Shadow caught the scent of salty fresh air. Maybe now was the time to strike.

But too quickly for Shadow to act, Smells Good had Sunny again, stepping out into the fading light. Shadow charged after . . . and then froze. They were on a long thing made of wood, with water all around. That’s where the salty smell came from.

And the bad human was putting Sunny down into a smaller wooden thing that floated on the water! Shadow didn’t like this at all. Oh, he’d had times when he got caught in water. He’d been lucky enough to paddle with his paws and get out of the wet stuff. But Sunny’s arms and legs were tied together, as if she’d been playing with string and gotten tangled. She wouldn’t be able to swim.

He’d have to wait for a better chance.

When Smells Good went back to close up the opening he’d made, Shadow waited until the human’s back was turned, then darted forward and leaped into the floating-thing. Sunny stared at him as he landed, her eyes very big over the sticky stuff covering her mouth. Shadow squashed his way behind her so that the bad human wouldn’t see him.

Smells Good soon returned, climbing into the floating-thing and making it rock in a way Shadow really didn’t like.

From his hiding place, Shadow couldn’t see what the human was doing, but he could hear rhythmic swishing sounds and got the feeling that solid ground was getting farther and farther away. He nudged at Sunny to bring her hands within reach and again started gnawing at the disgusting sticky stuff. Then the rhythm changed, and they stopped, merely bobbing in place.

Shadow risked a look to see Smells Good’s back as he used a very thick string to tie the thing they were on to—Shadow wasn’t quite sure what this was. It was as big as a house, but it floated on the water. Why would anybody want to have a house that floated?

That’s the problem with two-legs, he thought as he dropped back into hiding. They make some good things. But they’re crazy.

*

Cale deposited Sunnyrather unceremoniously onto the deck of the Merlin —more like a sack of potatoes than the gentlemanly helping hand he’d given her the other day. At least he had the manners to apologize as he moved her over to the cockpit, not that Sunny felt like appreciating them. As Cale ranged around the yacht, getting it ready to sail, she was shocked to see Shadow jump up onto the deck. He returned to the job of attacking her wrist restraints. He’d managed to tear a couple of holes in the tape with his teeth, but it wasn’t giving—it hadn’t been weakened enough. When Cale returned to raise the anchor, Shadow disappeared beneath the hem of her dress.

“Now we’ll just sail away. No engines, nothing to draw notice.” Cale took the wheel, and the Merlin surged forward. After a while he leaned over and removed the tape from Sunny’s mouth. “I’m really sorry about this, but I had my suspicions after I overheard you talking with Priscilla. And then when I tested the cameras and saw you in the gazebo, my hands were tied.”

“I think that’s my line,” Sunny said. She looked at the rowboat trailing along behind them on a towline. “So, secret passages and a rowboat. That’s how you were able to get around without anyone knowing.”

“Yes. That much worked well at least.”

Sunny nodded. “You’re used to having things work well—as the Taxman.”

Cale shot her a glance.

“You’re a legend in certain circles,” Sunny told him. “Mainly crime reporters.”

“Crime.” Cale repeated the word as if it had a bad taste. “I didn’t set out to commit any crimes. After the accident, I was looking for a second act—that was what the foundation was supposed to be, why it’s called Act Two. But people weren’t willing to give me a chance. Well, if they wouldn’t give voluntarily, I figured they’d have to be persuaded. I knew things, and I parlayed that into funding—seed money. No one I put the bite on was a saint, you know. At least now they were doing some good, even if they didn’t realize it. Those first transactions were pretty crude. But when we began extending our programs to work in prisons and I discovered the hackers, I was able to route money in more indirect ways.”

“So it was about the money,” Sunny said.

“Well, sure, it started out about the money,” Cale explained. “Seed money, like I said. But I didn’t want to make a pig of myself, or draw attention. After a while, when we showed what the foundation could do, we had more legitimate donors.”

“And then it became about the favors.”

“In a way I guess I’m a victim of my own success.” Cale sat for a moment with his hands on the wheel, then said, “My little projects went so well, I stopped planning for failure anymore. And maybe the old saying is true—you shouldn’t foul your own nest.” He started to laugh. “But look at the prize! If Carson actually becomes Mr. President, he’ll owe my family. But I’ll own him. The black sheep of the Kingsburys, armed with a presidential sex video. I’d be able to write my own ticket.”

Sunny winced. He told me almost the same thing about getting Augustus de Kruk’s breakdown on camera—that I’d be set for life. “So that’s what this was all about,” she said slowly, “a sex tape featuring Carson de Kruk? You planned to force Eliza Stoughton to act as the leading lady in your little production and even extorted a supply of Rohypnol to get Carson into a compromising position without him even remembering it. Except it didn’t turn out the way you’d planned.”