21 Dares: A Florida Suspense Mystery (28 page)

“Why are you fighting me on this? You were
there. You saw what Charlie Hicks did to my brother.” He stood panting as Abbie
pushed up to her knees, rubbing her throat. She swiped the tears from her eyes
and the saliva from her mouth. Towering over her, he screamed. “Why are you
ruining this?”

Rocky grabbed Abbie under the arms and
dragged her backwards to the empty swimming pool.

“You were there. You saw what he did.” He
dragged Abbie to the edge of the pool,
then
kicked her
in the rest of the way. She rolled against the rough gunite surface to the
curved bottom, splashing into a puddle of floating scum. She
lay
on her side, crumpled over, face down. The gray water bubbled.

Abbie breathed out. The cold against her skin
reached her brain and kicked it into semi-consciousness. Abbie groaned, for a
second thinking she was in her room, in bed, with Clem snuggled up against her.
She groaned again. Now she was swimming in a lake, back in Pembroke Pines, at
night. Wait! Something didn’t make sense. Sliding on the slimy gunite, she
rolled over on her back. She drew a breath. Saw Rocky leaning over the edge of
the pool.

It all came back.
McKenzie’s
body.
The box cutter.
Professor Cunningham.
The attic.
Clinton Reed.

Rocky leaned further over the edge. His body shuddered.
The box cutter shook wildly in his right hand, as if he were cutting the air
around him.
 

Abbie sat up in the puddle. Her hand scraped
against the clogged drain grate. Her sprained shoulder throbbed in sync with
her heartbeat. She struggled to clear her mind.

Rocky landed on the concrete shallow end with a dull
thud. She saw him from the corner of her eye. A sharp pain shot through her
neck when she tried to turn her head.

Rocky was talking. Abbie wasn’t sure, but he
may have been talking to her all along.

“McKenzie. Susan.
Your
therapist.
Your professor.
Your
father.
It wasn’t personal. I just wanted Charlie Hicks to take the rap
for their murders. That would be justice. That would avenge my brother’s death.
I want to see Charlie Hicks locked up, sitting on death row.”

“Charlie Hicks isn’t coming.” Abbie could
barely get the words out through the pain. “He was arrested at my apartment
complex.”

“No, he’ll be here.
Soon.”
Rocky pointed the blade on the box cutter toward her. “So we better hurry.”

Rocky jumped forward, splashing into the murky
puddle. In that one movement, he was almost on top of her.

Abbie backed against the rough, curved
surface. She tried to stand. A dynamite charge went off in her shoulder and she
had to stop. She twisted her back, looked up at the pool edge above her.
Her right leg gave out
and she fell forward on her face. She was too exhausted to rise again.

Rocky
raised the box cutter. He came at Abbie, towering over her. He waved his arm,
pointing the blade. She looked up at him.

“The
police will be here,” she said, no longer caring about the quiver in her voice.
“They’re on their way.”

“And
they will find McKenzie’s body and your therapist’s body and your father’s
body.” He seemed to count the bodies in his head, as if he was making sure not
to omit anyone. Once satisfied, his eyes locked with Abbie’s. “Then they will
find your body.”

“You
won’t get away with it.”

“They’ll
say Officer Charlie Hicks didn’t get away with it. Officer Charlie Hicks, the disgraced
cop whose been stalking you.”

He grasped the back of her neck and slammed
her face into the gunite surface. Blood poured from her nose. Stunned, Abbie went
limp for a second then struggled to her hands and knees. Rocky kicked her,
knocking her arms from under her as he slammed her head down again.

Abbie cried out in pain. For one startling moment,
she believed her heart exploded. The breath was completely knocked out of her.
She struggled to see him. He was little more than a blurry shape.
A burst of motion.
Maybe an arm?
Something
glistened?
The blade?
It sparkled like the stars.

She waited for the inevitable. Instead, she
heard Rocky cry out in pain.

Abbie
wiped the blood and sweat from her eyes just as gray cinder block hit his arm,
knocking the box cutter from his hand. He shrieked as another block hit him
square on the back. Abbie looked past him, upwards, to the edge of the pool.

Josh
and Dharma threw more cinder blocks at Rocky, forcing him to step away from her.

“Get
away from her,” Dharma yelled as she hurled a big chunk of concrete at him. It
struck Rocky on his forearm. He yelped,
then
backed
away to the opposite side of the pool. Dharma chunked another one at him.

Josh dropped into the empty pool. He charged,
slamming into Rocky. Rocky’s back pressed against the pool wall as Josh punched
him in the face.
Then decked him again.
Then again.

Rocky held up an arm in defense. His body
slumped. Josh stopped hitting him as he slid to the floor. Josh stepped back,
looking down at him.

“Tell me something.” Josh shook his open hand
as if he was waving off the pain. “Do people know when they’re crazy? Like,
when you’re looking in the mirror, brushing your teeth, do you ever just stop
and go, ‘Holy cheese and crackers, am I messed up. I mean, like, I’m a total
nutcase.’ Do you every say that to yourself, Rocky?”

Rocky spit blood. Slowly, he stood, shaking,
and tried to push Josh away.

Josh hit him in the ribs. Rocky doubled over.
Josh hit him again, a roundhouse right that slammed into Rocky’s ear. It
straightened Rocky up and maddened him enough to take a swing. He hit Josh in
the temple.

Rocky
charged. The two struggled, with Rocky pushing Josh backwards onto the rough gunite.

The
box cutter lay in the murky puddle at Abbie’s feet. Moonlight glinted off the
blade. Abbie reached for it, fighting off the pain in her shoulder, and picked it
up. She gripped it, tightly,
then
looked over at Rocky
and Josh scuffling on the ground. Rocky sat on Josh’s stomach, his left arm
pressed against Josh’s throat. His right hand pressed the side of Josh’s face
into the grainy concrete. Josh struggled.
Gasped for air.

Abbie
moved toward them, holding the box cutter, and plunged the blade into Rocky’s
stomach.

Rocky
screamed, and rolled off Josh. Stumbling to his feet, Rocky lowered his head to
see the gray handle lunged deep into his abdomen. Abbie crawled toward him, got
to her knees, then to her feet. She came face to face with him,
then
twisted the bloody handle.

“That’s
for Clinton Reed,” she said.

Rocky
screamed. He fell to his knees, splashed in the shallow water of the deep end, then
down onto his side.

Josh
rushed to Abbie and grabbed her before she collapsed. He helped her to the
shallow end. She fell to the steps. Dharma came up beside her.

“You’re
bleeding.” Dharma touched Abbie’s skinned cheek and swollen eye. Abbie
flinched.

“Lay
back and relax,” Josh said. “I think your arm’s broken.”

Abbie
leaned her head back and took a deep breath. Her face was cut and she could
feel hot blood dripping from her nose and off her chin. “Thank you,” she
whispered.

“The
police are on their way,” Josh said.

Behind
him, Abbie watched Rocky get to his feet in the puddle. He pulled the box
cutter out his stomach. She pointed. Josh turned his head. Rocky aimed the
blade, threw the cutter. Dharma raised the taser and fired. The charges shot
forward, sizzling, and missed Rocky. They landed in the murky puddle and exploded.
Sparks ignited across the empty pool. Rocky’s body straightened with the jolt,
his screams competing with the crackle of the wire hitting water. When the
sparks stopped, Rocky was no longer screaming. He dropped, splashing face first
into the puddle. Smoke drifted off his body.

There
was no more noise.

Abbie
looked over at Josh. The blade had grazed his shoulder, but he was okay.

“Why
didn’t you use that sooner?” Josh yelled, looking at Dharma. She shrugged,
dropping the gun.

“I
didn’t have a clear shot,” she said. “I was afraid I was going to hit you or
Abbie by mistake.”

Abbie
closed her eyes, breathed,
then
opened them again. “Clinton
Reed,” she said. The pain suddenly vanished as her heart pounded in her chest. She
struggled to get up. Dharma helped her walk up the steps and out of the empty pool.

“Where
are you going?” Josh called to her.

“Clinton
Reed,” she yelled back, limping. She leaned on Dharma. Josh followed. As they
approached the house, Abbie pushed away from Dharma and hobbled on her own. “He’s
hurt. I’ve got to get to him.”

Abbie
stumbled through the back door and made her way through the kitchen to the dark
living room. Josh came up behind her and ran up the wide steps ahead of her. Dharma
assisted Abbie up the staircase. They returned to the second floor. She limped
to the attic ladder and looked up. “Clinton Reed,” she yelled.

Using
her one strong arm, Abbie climbed the ladder. She rose through the pain.

In
the attic, her father was slumped forward in the chair. His chin to his chest,
he looked unconscious.
Or worse.
She hobbled to his
side, cradled his head.

“Daddy,”
she whispered. A slight groan came from his lips, and Abbie sighed in relief.
She hugged him as Josh untied the rope binding him to the chair. When freed, Clinton
Reed tumbled into Abbie’s arms. “Stay with me, Daddy,” she cried. “Do you hear
me? Stay with me.”

He
raised his head.
Opened an eye.
Groaned.

“Hey!”
she said again. “Can you hear me? When it’s dark…”

He
moaned. His head bobbed.

“Stay
with me.” Her voice rose. “When it’s dark…”

“Look
for stars.” His voice was barely a whisper, but he said it. He was conscious.
He was alive.

Abbie
laughed through her tears. “Save your strength. We’re gonna get you outta here.”

Police
sirens in the distance grew louder, and filled the attic with hope.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*

A false dawn
broke as neighbors clumped in groups around the old house. Some wearing
bathrobes, others just in their underwear, they stood by the curb across the
street and along the edges of the property. Squad cars lined the streets,
lights flashing. Two ambulances were on the scene.

 
The EMTs put Abbie’s father into the back of
the first ambulance. Abbie wouldn’t leave him until they shut the doors,
leaving her on the street. She watched the ambulance roll forward,
then
speed away.

Josh
and Dharma were talking to several police officers. Captain Parks stood next to
his son, a hand on his shoulder. Abbie made her way to the curb and sat down. Josh
and Dharma approached her.
 

“He’s
going to be okay,” Josh said, taking her good hand in his. She put her head on
his shoulder.

Dharma
laughed. “I bet this is a birthday you’re never going to forget.”

Abbie
forced a smile, but said nothing.

“Hey,”
Josh said. “I got one last dare for you.”

“No
more dares,” she whispered.

“But
it’s the last one,” he said to her. “You’re twenty-first dare.”

Dharma’s
head came close to hers. “Twenty-one dares for your birthday. That was the
game, right?”

Abbie
mumbled something. Even she wasn’t sure what she said. Her words were slurring
and all she wanted to do now was shut her eyes and go to sleep. Somehow she
managed to nod.

“I
dare you to watch the sunrise.” Josh pointed toward the east. The first slivers
of red glowed over the horizon.
 
He
looked back at her. “You made it. You survived your twenty-first birthday.”

“Yeah,”
Dharma said. “And I’m already planning your twenty-second. And, you know, my
nineteenth birthday is in a couple of months. We should all do something.”

Abbie
didn’t take her eyes off the eastern horizon. She couldn’t really think about
anything but Clinton Reed, her daddy. Finally, two male EMTs approached and checked
her vitals. They helped her stand. Laying back in a gurney, Abbie felt them
lift her into another waiting ambulance.

Josh
and Dharma climbed into the back of the ambulance with her. He brushed the hair
away from the cut on her forehead.

“So,
did I ever tell you what the mayo said when the fridge door was opened?”

“Josh,”
Dharma said, scolding him. “That’s not appropriate.”