Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

But lately it seemed Tim had fallen in with the wrong crowd. She’d heard rumors about him drinking and even using drugs. Though a part of her had wanted to talk to him and try to help him out, she’d been too scared of getting back in touch with the Trevor era of her life to ever follow through with him.

What had Tim gotten himself into now? Was he beyond reaching?

Abby blinked and sat up with a start. She’d almost dozed off for a moment, exhausted and lost in thought. But now she knew exactly what she needed to do. She needed to talk to Tim. Now. And though the Coast Guard guys had been unable to find him, she suddenly realized where he was most likely to be.

The Brick wasn’t like any of the downtown pubs, which were brightly lit and eccentrically decorated to lure in the tourist crowd. The shady bar was a magnet for illegal activity, half-hidden at the end of an alley on a bluff near the edge of town, and could have easily been mistaken for someone’s crumbling old garage if not for the neon signs advertising cheap beer. Like a cinderblock plunked down by a giant, The Brick nestled in next to the hillside, reminding Abby of Mrs. Frisby’s home in Nimh.

Abby had never been inside The Brick, but now was not a time for cowardice. She was long overdue for a talk with Tim. Besides that, it was the only way she knew to help Scott find his mother, the only lead she had in her hands to pursue. So she really had no choice.

The rusting metal door opened on well-greased hinges, and Abby blinked at the smoky fog of the dim interior. A couple of grizzled fishermen sat at the bar, but otherwise, the place appeared to be empty. Then Abby heard the clink of balls near the back and saw Tim bent over the lone pool table, playing a game all by himself.

Reminding herself that the younger man had once looked up to her, even held her in awe as a beloved older sister, Abby drummed up the courage to proceed. “Tim?” She blinked at him and smiled her friendliest smile, as though running into him was a happy coincidence. “Tim Price?”

When Tim looked up and met her eyes, Abby realized how very overdue their conversation was. Though he stood nearly as tall as his brother, his skin clung to his skeletal frame, and his eyes bulged out from sunken hollows, gaunt and haunted. Where once there had been light and life and promise, now there were only shadows, as though his soul had been stolen by the powder and drink.

“Abby?” A faraway smile stole across his features, and for an instant, she recognized the young man she’d once known. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Thought I might play some pool.”

“Well, have at it.” Discordant laughter bubbled from his mouth. Though she had no personal experience with alcohol, she could tell he was wasted.

Abby nodded and took hold of a pool cue. She’d get through this, somehow. And when Marilyn was finally rescued, she’d see that Tim got some help.

Scott stepped into the seedy joint he’d seen Abby enter, and looked around, aghast that she’d venture inside such a place. He’d looked her up in the phone book and had Tracie give him a lift to her place so he could try to apologize. They’d pulled up just in time to see her disappear around the corner on foot. Scott had followed at a distance, wondering what she was up to.

He wondered even more now. But when he heard the name Tim Price floating through the smoke as she approached the man in back, Scott decided he could hold back his fears for her safety for a little while longer. He ducked into a booth close enough to the pool table that he could overhear Abby’s conversation with Tim. When Abby glanced up and saw him, Scott lifted a finger to his lips, motioning for her to keep quiet about his presence.

An understanding smile flickered across her face, but she didn’t pause in her conversation. Fortunately it seemed Tim was one of those guys who liked to talk when he was drunk.

“The Coast Guard job is chicken feed.” Tim’s voice warbled. “It keeps him in the know, is all. He’s got clout, that’s why they let him in on the big deals.”

“Like this one?” Abby prompted. Scott watched her try to shoot pool with Tim, but from what he could see, it didn’t appear as though she’d ever held a pool cue before. Tim, however, appeared to be wasted enough not to notice her obvious lack of skill.

“Yeah, some land development deal. Big chunk of property. They just have to take care of the owners, you know, ’cause they didn’t want to sell.”

“Take care of them?” Abby prompted.

“Yeah, you know, get ’em out of the picture so they can take possession. They’ve got this guy Mitch. Idiot. He was supposed to help them, but he’s getting in the way. What he doesn’t know is, they don’t even need him anymore.”

“They don’t?”

“Nope. Got it all taken care of.” Tim chuckled, sounding pleased with himself.

Scott felt his heart sink. What had been taken care of? Was his mother already dead?

“So what about the jewelry?” Abby asked. “Was that just a cover?”

Scott stiffened. Abby’s question had come out of nowhere. He hadn’t heard Tim say anything about jewelry yet. But maybe Abby figured Tim was so out of it he wouldn’t notice.

Her guess seemed to be a good one. Tim just kept right on chuckling.

“The jewelry!” He slapped his knee and gripped his pool stick for support as his laughter bent him double. “That was just too easy. Too easy!” he repeated.

His loud antics drew a glare from the fishermen at the bar. Tim looked up, saw their expressions and sidled closer to Abby. Scott had to strain to hear.

“They’ve been running diamonds through those islands for years. That’s how Trevor got in with them, see. He keeps the Coast Guard out of their way, makes it nice and smooth for them, gets his cut, no questions, right? That’s how they paid this Mitch guy. Diamonds. He uses them to lure this woman, then has her leave the diamonds on the boat. Bingo! They get their diamonds back, got the woman and the land and the evidence, and nobody’s none the wiser.”

“Wow.” Abby nodded, playing right along. “That’s brilliant.”

“You betcha. And the best part? They ain’t even diamonds.”

“They’re not?”

“Nope. They’re all the same. Syn-thet-ics.” He sounded the word out slowly, as though he might not have been able to spit it out any other way. “Only problem is, now the feds are trying to trace them back here. Trevor’s got to tie up his loose ends. Getting into real estate now, ’cause the gig is up on the diamonds.”

“They need them back?” Abby repeated. “Is that why Trevor wants his ring back?”

“Yup.” Tim nodded. “Yup, yup, yup.” His voice faded. Then his eyes seemed to focus and he looked at Abby as though for the first time. “Oh, Abby.” He shook his head. “Abby, you shouldn’t ought to be here.”

Cold dread slid down Scott’s spine. He needed to get Abby out of there, and fast.

The fisherman at the bar looked antsy, their attention obviously focused on Tim and Abby’s conversation.

“You know, I probably should go. Thanks for the game, Tim,” Abby called. She swept over and grabbed Scott’s hand, whisking him off to the door.

The last thing he heard before the door slammed behind them was Tim’s warbling voice, now frantic, as he shouted, “We can’t let them get away!”

“Run!” Abby screamed to Scott as she pulled him by the hand through the mud-and-gravel parking lot. She’d seen coherence hit Tim’s eyes the second he’d realized what he’d told her. Tim had always cared too deeply about what Trevor thought of him. If he thought he’d betrayed his brother’s confidence, who knew what he might do?