Andrew Gross - The Dark Tide

Teddy’s Beach. Suddenly a new fear swept through Karen’s body. That beach was tiny and deserted. It had a protective rock-wall jetty, and other than a few teenagers who might’ve gone down there at night to make a bonfire or smoke some pot, Karen realized that it would be totally deserted. And blocked from the other homes.

That’s what Dietz had meant when he’d said “All clear.”

Goddamn it, no. She kicked Dietz in the shins with the point of her shoe, and he spun, angry, and smacked her in the face with the back of his rough hand. Blood spurted out Karen’s nose. She choked on it.

Dietz glared at her. “I said behave!”

He hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of flour and ripped off her shoes. He thrust the barrel of a gun up into her nose. “Listen, bitch, I told you what the choice was. You want it easy-or rough? You can fucking decide. Me, I can do it either way. My advice is to lie back and enjoy the ride. It’s gonna be over before you even know it. Trust me, you got a much better ticket than your boyfriend.”

He carried her through the tightly wooded path, thorns and brambles scratching her legs. Her only hope was that someone would see them. She screamed and fought against the tape, but she could barely make a sound. Please, let someone be down here, she begged, please…

But what would that even get her? Probably only a bullet in the head.

They came out of the woods onto the end of the town road. Totally dark and deserted. No one. The salty breeze crept into her nostrils. A few lights shone from houses in the distance, across the cove.

Dietz dropped her and pulled her by the arms. “Let’s go.”

No… Karen was crying. Fiercely, she wrenched her bound wrists away from him, but there was nothing she could do. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She thought of Ty, and the tears grew heavier and uncontrollable, choking her, making her unable to breathe. Oh, baby, you can’t be dead. Please, Ty, please, hear me… Her heart almost split in two at the thought that she had caused him harm.

They dragged her down through the sand, and she shook her head back and forth, screaming inside, No!

Cates, the ponytailed bastard, yanked her into the water.

Karen kneed him in the groin. He howled and then spun in rage. “Goddamn it!” and kicked her in the stomach. He dropped her at last, face-first, in the shallow water. Exhausted, out of resistance. Forcing Karen’s face under the warm foam.

“Heard the jet stream’s nice this time of year.” Cates chuckled. “Shouldn’t be too bad.”

It took just minutes, Hauck’s Bronco speeding down Route 1 with its top hat flashing, for him to pull outside the house on Sea Wall.

Two local blue-and-whites had already beaten him there.

Hauck noticed Karen’s white Lexus parked in front of the garage. He grabbed his gun and slid out of the Bronco, favoring his right leg. Two uniformed cops, each carrying lit Maglites, were exiting the front door. He recognized one from the station, Torres. Hauck went up to them, clutching his side.

“Anyone inside?”

Torres shrugged. “There was a dog locked in one of the rooms, Lieutenant. Other than that, negative.”

That didn’t wash. Karen’s car was here. If they had come after him, it seemed inevitable that they had come after her. “What about Mrs. Friedman? Did you check upstairs?”

“All over the house, Lieutenant. O’Hearn and Pallacio are still in there.” The officer’s eyes fell to Hauck’s side. “Jesus, sir…”

Hauck headed past him into the open house, the patrolman left staring at the trail of blood.

He called out, “Karen?” No reply. Hauck’s heart started to beat wildly. He heard barking. Officer Pallacio came down the stairs, with his gun drawn.

“Fucking dog.” He shook his head. “Shot by me like a Formula One.” He looked surprised to see Hauck. “Lieutenant!”

“Is anybody here?” Hauck demanded.

“No one, sir. Just Rin Tin Tin out there.” He pointed out back.

“Did you check the basement?”

The cop nodded. “All over, sir.”

Shit. Karen’s car was here. Maybe she had gone to her friend’s… He racked his brain. What was her name? Paula. Hauck’s gaze fixed on a roll of packing tape on a chair. A pile of mail and magazines were scattered about the floor. The French doors leading to the patio were ajar-Tobey barking like crazy out there.

He didn’t like what he was feeling at all.

He went through the doors and looked out at the yard. The night was bright, clear. He smelled the nearby sound. The dog was on the deck, barking nonstop. Clearly upset.

“Where the hell is she, Tobey?” Hauck sucked in a breath. Every time he did, it killed him.

Limping, he made his way into the backyard. There was a small pool out there, a couple of chaises. Every instinct in his body told him Karen was in danger. She had talked with Charles. She knew. He should never have let her come back here without him. Why would it make sense to silence only him?

Farther along, his eyes were drawn to something lying in the grass.

Shoes. Karen’s. The ones she’d been wearing earlier tonight. A pattering of nerves drummed up in him. The beating in his heart intensified.

“Karen?” he called.

Why would they be out here?

He looked further. There was some gardening equipment on the ground, a plastic watering jug. Near the end of the yard, he came upon a wooden gate-unlatched. It opened to a narrow wooded path. He went through it. Hauck suddenly realized what it was.

It led around to the end of the town road off Surfside.

To Teddy’s Beach.

He heard a voice from behind him. “Lieutenant, you need any help out there?”

Clutching his gun, forcing the pain out of his mind, Hauck stepped along the path. He pushed a few branches out of his way. After thirty or forty yards, weaving behind other houses on Sea Wall, he saw the opening to the town road.

He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Karen!”

No reply.

Something on the ground caught Hauck’s eye. He knelt, almost buckling from the surge of pain shooting through his thigh.

A sliver of fabric. Orange.

His heart stopped still. Karen had been wearing an orange top.

A tremor of dread rose up in him. He looked out toward the beach. Oh, Jesus. He did his best to run.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO

Her face was pressed under the surface, breath tightening in her lungs, flailing at him with her arms, Cates’s strong hands pinning the back of her head.

Karen had fought him with everything she had. Clawing, trying to bite his arm, gasping to suck a gulp of precious air into her lungs. Once she even pulled him over on top of her, amusing Dietz, getting Cates all soaked, and he drew his fist to her face in a menacing rage. “Jesus, Cates, what a fucking woman!” she heard Dietz cackle.

Karen spit water out of her mouth and tried to scream. He dunked her under again.

Now it was ending. Cates had finally ripped off the tape from her mouth, and she was taking in water, gasping for breath with every last ounce of strength, coughing, but he cupped his hand over her mouth and forced her back down before she could scream.

And who would hear anyway? Who would hear in time? Her thoughts flashed to Ty. Oh, please…please… Now water was pouring in. She twisted away from his grasp a last time, gagging. This was it. She could no longer fight it. In desperation, Karen reached back, vainly trying to claw at the bastard’s leg.

She heard him shout, “How’s the temperature, bitch?”

A desperate will fought the urge to simply open her mouth, just surrender. Give herself over to the dark tide. She thought of Sam and Alex.