Робин Кук - Mortal Fear

As they approached, he could see several well-lit buildings, docks, and a number of rubber boats like their own. He was still afraid the killer might have driven down to intercept them, but he knew they had to land. Jason pulled alongside the second dock and cut the engine.

“You sure know how to entertain a girl,” Carol said through chattering teeth.

“I’m glad you still have your sense of humor,” Jason said.

“Don’t count on it lasting much longer. I want to know what in heaven’s name is going on.”

Jason stood up stiffly, holding on to the dock. He helped Carol out of the boat, got out himself, and tied the line to a cleat. The sound of country music drifted from one of the buildings.

“It must be a bar,” said Jason. He took her hand. “We have to get warm before we get pneumonia.” Jason led the way up the gravel path, but instead of going inside, he walked into the parking lot and began looking in the parked vehicles.

“Hold on,” said Carol with irritation. “What are you doing now?”

“I’m looking for keys,” Jason said. “We need a car”.

“I don’t believe this,” said Carol, throwing up her hands. “I thought we were going to get warm. I don’t know about you, but I’m going in that restaurant.” Without waiting for a response, she started for the entrance.

Jason caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “I’m afraid he’ll be back — the man who was shooting at us”.

“Then we’ll call the police,” Carol said. She pulled out of Jason’s grasp and entered the restaurant.

The Hispanic was not in the restaurant, so, following Carol’s suggestion, they called the police, who happened to be a local sheriff. The proprietor of the restaurant refused to believe that Jason and Carol had navigated Devil’s Chute in the dark — “Nobody ain’t done that before,” he said. He found chef’s smocks and oversized black and white checkered kitchen pants for them to change into, and a plastic garbage bag for their wet clothes. He also insisted they have steaming hot rum toddies, which finally stopped their shivering.

“Jason, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on,” Carol insisted as they waited for the sheriff. They sat at a table across from a Wurlitzer jukebox playing fifties music.

“I don’t know for sure,” Jason said. “But the man shooting at us was outside the restaurant where Alvin died. My guess is that Alvin was a victim of his own discovery, but if he hadn’t died that night, the same man would have eventually killed him anyway. So Alvin was telling the truth when he said someone wanted him dead.”

“This doesn’t sound real,” Carol said, trying to smooth her hair, which was drying in tangled ringlets.

“I know. Most conspiracies don’t.”

“What about Hayes’s discovery?”

“I don’t know for sure, but if my theory is right, it’s almost too scary to contemplate. That’s why I want to get back to Boston.”

Just then the door opened and the sheriff, Marvin Arnold, walked in. He was a mountain of a man dressed in a wrinkled brown uniform that sported more buckles and straps than Jason had ever seen. More important to Jason was the 357 Magnum strapped to Marvin’s oversized left thigh. That was the kind of cannon Jason wished he’d had back at the Salmon Inn.

Marvin had already heard about the commotion at the Salmon Inn, and had been there to check things out. What he hadn’t heard about was any man with a gun, and no one had heard any gunshots. When Jason described what had happened, he could tell that Marvin regarded him with a good deal of skepticism. Marvin was surprised and impressed, however, when he heard that Jason and Carol had come down Devil’s Chute by themselves in the dark. “Ain’t a lot of people going to believe that,” he said, shaking his massive head in admiration.

Marvin drove Jason and Carol back to the Salmon Inn, where Jason was surprised to find out there was a question of charges being filed against him, holding him responsible for the damages in the dining room. No one had seen any gun. And even more shocking, no one remembered an olive-complexioned man in a dark blue suit. But in the end, the management decided to drop the issue, saying they’d let their insurance take care of the damages. With that decided, Marvin tipped his hat, preparing to leave.

“What about protection?” asked Jason.

“From what?” asked Marvin. “Don’t you think it is a little embarrassing that no one can corroborate your story? Listen, I think you people have caused enough trouble tonight. I think you should go up to your room and sleep this whole thing off.”

“We need protection,” said Jason. He tried to sound authoritative. “What do we do if the killer returns?”

“Look, friend, I can’t sit here all night and hold your hand. I’m the only one on this shift and I got the whole damned county to keep my eye on. Lock yourself in your room and get some shut-eye.”

With a final nod toward the manager, Marvin lumbered out the front door.

The manager in turn smiled condescendingly at Jason and went into his office.

“This is unreal,” Jason said with a mixture of fear and irritation. “I can’t believe nobody noticed the Hispanic guy.” He went to the public phone booth and looked up private detective agencies. He found several in Seattle, but when he dialed he just got their answering machines. He left his name and the hotel number, but he didn’t have much hope of reaching someone that night.

Emerging from the phone booth, he told Carol that they were leaving immediately. She followed him up the stairs.

“It’s nine-thirty at night,” she protested, entering the room behind him.

“I don’t care. We’re leaving as fast as we can. Get your things together.”

“Don’t I have any say in the matter?”

“Nope. It was your decision to stay tonight and your decision to call the helpful local police. Now it’s my turn. We’re leaving.”

For a minute, Carol stood in the center of the room watching Jason pack, then she decided he probably had a point. Ten minutes later, changed into their own clothes, they carried their luggage downstairs and checked out.

“I have to charge you for tonight,” the man at the desk informed them.

Jason didn’t bother to argue. Instead, he asked the man if he’d bring their car around to the front entrance. He tipped him five dollars and the clerk was happy to oblige.

Once in the car, Jason had hoped he’d feel less anxious and less vulnerable. Neither was the case. As he pulled out of the hotel parking lot and started down the dark mountain road, he quickly recognized how isolated they were. Fifteen minutes later, in the rearview mirror, he saw headlights appear. At first Jason tried to ignore them, but then it became apparent that they were relentlessly gaining on them despite Jason’s gradual acceleration. The terror Jason had felt earlier crept back. His palms began to perspire.

“There’s someone behind us,” Jason said.

Carol twisted in the front seat and looked out the back. They rounded a curve and the headlights disappeared. But on the next straightaway they reappeared. They were closer. Carol faced forward. “I told you we should have stayed.”

“That’s helpful!” said Jason sarcastically,

He inched the accelerator closer to the floor. They were already going well over sixty on the curvy road. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, then looked up at the rearview mirror. The car was close, its lights like eyes of a monster. He tried to think of what he could do, but he could think of nothing other than trying to outrun the car behind them. They came to another curve. Jason turned the wheel. He saw Carol’s mouth open in a silent scream. He could feel the car start to jackknife. He braked, and they skidded first to one side and then to the other. Carol grabbed the dash to steady herself. Jason felt his seat belt tighten.