The Sea Grape Tree (26 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

T
he bedroom door banged open and Man-Up stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, feet apart.

“Slim Jim tell me you tie up Clementine and you trying to run away,” he shouted. “You must be a
ee-diot
.”

Sarah folded her arms around her knees and looked outside. It was midmorning, no sunlight falling inside the window yet, and nothing to lose.

“I speaking to you!” he demanded.

She stood up and smoothed the top sheet that had bound Clementine, who'd called her
ungrateful
and refused to look at her as Sarah had untied the sheet and scarves
.

“What do you expect? You have me locked up, won't tell me why I'm here, won't tell me who's behind this.”

“I asking you a question, why you running away?”

Her answer was to walk to the window. She could see the dog for the first time. It was lying near the wall, a large black-and-white dog with fur that needed to be brushed, an old dog on a chain who'd kept her company.

“What come over you?” the driver insisted behind her. “You not acting like yourself. Now you causing trouble.”

“We can try, can't we?” she answered carefully, holding the rage at bay.

He walked around the bed toward her and reached for her arm. “Come here.”

She yanked it out of his reach. “Don't you bloody touch me!”

He laughed. “Remember, you were down on your knees begging me?”

“The offer has expired.”

“I touch you if I feel like,” he said, and snatched at her, the scar popping out of his sneering cheek. She dodged him and ran to the open door. He raced behind her, caught her by her elbow.

“You not going nowhere, not until I finish with you, then all this foolishness stopping today.”

“What are you going to do?”

“You find out soon enough.” He dragged her to the bed. “First, you and I going to get friendly.”

“Fuck you!” Sarah said, and spat at him, the spittle falling short. “You're going to have to kill me first.”

He screwed up his lips and spat. “Is the first time I ever spit on a white woman,” he said, grinning, boasting.

She wiped the spit from her cheek. “If you think you're going to—”

“I don't think, I know.” He reached for her head and she ducked. “You think is game I playing?” He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her down to the mattress.

A piercing ringing at his waist, sounding like an old-fashioned phone, made him loosen his grip and look down.

Sarah pulled her head away. “Answer your phone!”

“More important things to do,” he said, and lunged for her breast.

“
Somebody!
” she screamed, turning her head to the open door, kicking at him.
“Help me!”

“Nobody coming, man, they know you deserve it. After what you done?” He threw himself down on the bed beside her, the old-fashioned ring still pealing. “Who you think Clementine is? Just some stupid old woman you can disrespect? You don't mess with her, tie her up and thing, and don't get what coming to you.”

“Batsman!” she shouted.

An annoyed voice from the door. “She making too much noise,” the whiner said.

“Shut the
raas claat
door!” Man-Up roared.

“Help me!” Sarah called, reaching one hand toward the thin man, but the door slammed shut.

Man-Up put his hand over her mouth. It smelled of raw meat.

She yanked her head free. “Stop it!
Stop!
”

“Like you need little persuasion.” He held on to her arm with one hand, pulled a gun out of his pants pocket with the other, and put it on the mattress beside him. “Now we can have a good time, right?”

She gulped and glared at him. “You big bully. Just because you have a gun—”

“You going to thank me after, man.” His hand darted out and grabbed her blouse, ripped it open. “I going to give you something no white man ever give you.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

A
full minute went by before the door opened. A thin, tired-looking man stood in the doorway.

“What you want?” he said, glancing behind him.

“Lizard send us,” Shad said, one hand in his pocket, two fingers touching the bag with Granny's grave dirt, the other three wrapped around the gun. He hoped his sunglasses hid his racing heart. Beside him, Danny stood with arms folded across his chest, keeping his mouth shut as directed.

The man at the door pursed his lips. “Why Lizard send you? How come I never see you before?”

Inside the living room, a youth sat on a red chair staring at them.

Shad cleared his throat. “He say you might need
reinforcements
.”

“What that mean?”

“You need some help, so we—”

A piercing scream came from deep inside the house, and the man swung toward it.

“Sarah!” Danny yelled, and pushed past Shad through the door.

The skinny man grabbed Danny's arm. “Where you going?”

“Get out of my way!” Danny said, striking the man in the face. The two fell to the floor, the American twice the size of the other. Shad pulled the gun out of his pocket.

“Let him go!” he shouted, pointing the gun at the skinny man. His hand was shaking and he held on to it with his other hand.

The man in the red chair jumped up, drawing a silver gun. “Get out!”

Danny rolled on top of his opponent, pinning his arms. “Man-Up!” the man screamed, looking toward the corridor.

A burly man rushed out of the hallway, zipping up his pants with one hand, a thick, black gun in the other. “What the
raas claat
—”

He stopped in the middle of the room and pointed the gun at Shad. “Drop it!”

“Police outside,” Shad yelled. “All around the house.”

“Batsman, take his gun,” Man-Up ordered, straightening his shirt. “Check the door.”

Batsman yanked the Glock out of Shad's hand and glanced around the yard before closing the door. “Nobody outside,” he said. He stuck Shad's gun in his pants pocket and pointed his own at the bartender.

“Why the damn dog didn't bark?” Man-Up growled.

“He too old,” Batsman said. “I tell you that long time.”

“What you want?” the big man demanded, looking from Danny to Shad. “Who send you?”

“We want the Englishwoman,” Shad said. “Let her go and we won't go to the police.”

“Sarah!” Danny shouted as his opponent struggled up.

“Shut up!” Man-Up said, brandishing the gun. “I should just kill the two of you one time.”

“I tell you, no killing in my house,” the thin man said, standing and brushing off his pants. “All them DNA tests—”

“You hear what the man say,” Danny said as he got up. “Just let Sarah go and there'll be no killing.”

Man-Up threw himself into an armchair. He smiled a slow, easy smile. “Oh, is
you
—the black Yankee man. I hear about you. You own all kind of beauty shop and thing, man, making plenty money.” He said the last sentence with an American twang.

Danny frowned and shook his head. “All we want is Sarah.”

The thick man laughed. “Is two of us have guns on you, star. Don't get excited. You watch your manners and you can have little piece of the business.”

“I don't want no part of your business, whatever it is.”

Man-Up dropped the smile. “Is
you
don't understand, Yankee. You might as well get comfy, because she not going nowhere and you not going nowhere.”

“Danny!” All heads turned to Sarah, standing at the entrance to the corridor holding her torn blouse together. She was sweaty, her face almost as red as a poinciana flower, almost as red as her wild, frizzy hair.

Danny threw a fist toward Man-Up. “What you do to her, man?”

“Get back to your room!” Man-Up shouted at her.

“No bloody way!” Sarah shouted back, a new fire in her eyes.

“Let her go,” Shad urged.

“What you going to do with us?” Danny said at the same time.

“You can't kill us,” Shad said. “Is three of us, and if you kill one you have to kill all three, then they going to hunt you down. We tell them where we coming.”

Man-Up sucked his teeth, an ugly scar rising with his cheek. “I don't believe you one damn. You don't tell nobody.” He sighed. “You put me in a terrible position. We going to have to take you to a cane field and shoot you. All they going to find is three dead bodies. They never going to know who leave you there.” He nodded to the thin man. “Tie them up.”

“With what?” the man complained. “I don't have no rope.”

“Pshaw, man, you want me think for you now? Just go in the back and find something.” The man headed to the corridor. As he passed her, Sarah gave him a dirty look, and slipped farther into the room.

“Stop!” Man-Up barked at her, sitting up in his chair.

“Bollocks! Don't tell me what I can do!” she retorted. Batsman looked from Sarah to Man-Up, nibbling his lip.

The skinny man returned with a plastic clothesline, and Man-Up told him to tie Danny and Shad together by the wrists, haranguing him as he did so.

“Don't even have twine or nothing to tie up a person. You just as stupid as your dog. The boss tell you what to do, but you don't want to do it, arguing with me whole time. All you can talk about is putting her on a plane. Then we can't find her passport and now you can't find your friend in Montego Bay to make a new one.” The man didn't respond, just finished his task and pushed Shad and Danny onto two of the red chairs, Shad's left wrist bound to Danny's right.

“And now you see what it come to?” Man-Up continued. “If you listen to me—”

“I telling you,” Shad interrupted, “the—”

“Shut your
raas claat
mouth,” Man-Up threw at him. “Nobody know you come here. We can do what we want with you.”

The front door banged open. Man-Up jumped out of the chair and the older man jerked around. Lambert was standing in the doorway, his gun planted in the elaborately braided hairdo of the woman he was clutching. She was thin and wiry, not an ounce of fat on her, a woman with a powerful voice, the kind of woman you didn't mess with if you could help it.

“Lemme go!” she snarled as she struggled, the angry, protruding eyes above the straight nose reminding Shad of someone, somewhere.

“A volunteer hostage,” Lambert said. He wasn't smiling, but his voice had a proud lift to it.

“What the
blood claat
—?” Man-Up shouted, and raised his gun.

“Why you don't answer the fucking phone when I call you?” the wriggling woman yelled, three gold teeth parading along one side of her mouth. “I was calling to tell you them was coming.”

“I was busy.”

“Just when I need you, you
busy
?” the woman shrieked, the tight skirt sliding up her thighs.

“Who are you?” Sarah flung at her, advancing one step closer.

“Is the boss, Lizard woman,” Man-Up said. “Gecko she name.”

“I know you,” Sarah shouted. “I saw you with Carthena in the bar—”

“And you was with her in the kitchen—” Shad added.

“Why'd you have me kidnapped?” Sarah demanded. “I never did anything!”

“What dis? What going on here?” Another angry woman's voice—Janet's. She was standing behind Lambert, trying to peep over his shoulder.

“Get him, Jan!” Gecko called. “Grab him balls!”

“You grab my balls, you never forget it,” Lambert snarled, turning his head toward Janet. He spread his elbows to fill the doorway.

“Get out my way,” Janet yelled at Lambert, a midget on tiptoe plucking at his clothes, kicking at his ankles.

“You not going nowhere,” the contractor grunted.

“You bitch!” Danny shouted at Janet. “Look what you started!”

“What you mean what I start?” Janet yelled, one eye visible around Lambert's right arm. “Is
you
promise me a green card. Then you change you tune—”

“You promise her a green card?” Shad snorted, staring hard at Danny. “You told me—”

“That was before Sarah,” Danny answered, his jaw working.

“See what I mean?” Gecko spat on the tiles and glowered at Sarah. “You come along and turn the man's head. We couldn't let you mess up everything. And you would be
dead
if these idiots had listen to me. But no, because you is a woman, they feel sorry for you. I should have get women to work for me. They would have shoot you and dump the body long time.”

“I'm telling you, drop your guns!” Lambert shouted, jerking his head toward Man-Up.

Gecko yanked one hand free of Lambert's grip and pointed at Danny with a long blue fingernail. “And you is a idiot, running after a white woman. You could have been
rich
. All you had to do was give Janet a visitor's visa, not even a green card. We make it easy for you. She would have just come up to visit you and disappear—don't even have to take her shopping or nothing—and if you want to, you could have help her run things in America and use your businesses them as a cover. Easy, easy, everything in place already. Man-Up going to handle things down here, collections and shipments. We plan it long time.”

“You never said nothing about no
drug
business,” Danny called to Janet. “You talking trash, talking how you love me the whole time.”

“Love you?” Janet yelled, tugging at Lambert's arm. “You ever hear the song say,
What love got to do with it?
This about business, star.” She frowned at Sarah. “And you have to mess up everything. You teaching him to paint, taking him to dinner with big people, and he stop calling me, don't want no more sexing up. All we had to do was get you out of the way to make the obeah work good.”

“I knew it—obeah!” Danny exclaimed. “Jesus—”

“Let me tell you something, Mistah Savior,” Gecko said, pointing the vicious finger at Danny again. “You not going to mess up our plans, you hear me? I going to make sure Janet get her visa even if I have to pay plenty money for it. We still having our business in America, and I going to be in charge.” She spat on the tiles. “So
all
of you have to dead because I don't take no prisoners. Just shoot him, Man-Up!”

The skinny man put his hand up. “I tell you, I don't want no killing in my house.”

“You too damn coward,” Gecko retorted. “If I woulda know you was so coward—just shoot him, Man-Up!”

“Shoot if you think you bad,” Lambert roared, twisting the gun deeper between the woman's braids.

“Don't shoot,” Batsman called, glancing from his prisoners to Gecko. “You could dead, Franchette, or he could miss and kill Janet.”

“Leave him, Bertie,” Lambert's prisoner yelled.

“The boss say I must shoot,” Man-Up answered, cocking the gun. He took aim, the pink tip of his tongue sliding out of his mouth. Suddenly, a screeching wail sliced through the room.

“What that?” Gecko screamed. The bloodcurdling alarm rotated its shrill invasion, only a few feet away, it sounded like.

Man-Up covered one ear. “What the
blood claat
—”

Everything happened quick-quick after that, Shad told Beth later, just like you were taking one-one photographs
.
Sarah darted behind Man-Up and kicked him hard behind one knee, sending him crumpling to the floor. Her arms had shot up high like a football player who'd scored a goal, showing a flash of white breast, before she ran behind Lambert. She snatched off Janet's wig and delivered a blow to her jaw that sent the seamstress flying out the door. At that, Shad and Danny leaped up together, their wrists still bound. Danny kicked Batsman in the groin and Shad kicked him on his arm, knocking the gun out of his hand and sending the youth to the floor. And just as the skinny man reached for the gun, Danny grabbed him with his free hand and Shad picked up the gun with
his
free hand. And it wasn't over yet, because Man-Up rolled over and fired toward the four men in their tight huddle, and Franchette and the thin man screamed at the same time, the sounds of gun and pain exploding over the siren.

Blood sprouted from the man's shirtsleeve, and he held his arm. “
Bumba,
you shoot me!” he yelled at nobody and everybody.

Shad jammed the gun against Batsman's scalp, the scalp that had been almost clean shaven in Roper's kitchen when he'd appeared with the two women and the baby.

“Man-Up, take your pick,” Shad shouted. “You can shoot again and kill either Lizard's woman or his little brother, maybe both. And you know Lizard coming for you then, and it going to be a long, slow death. Which one you want to dead first, girlfriend or brother?”