Chapter 31
Steele pulled up to the security box, dropped the driver’s window, and punched in his code. The gate opened. It was nice to be home.
“We’re here,” he sing-songed to Eddie. “Home sweet home.”
He kept his eyes fixed on Eddie in the rearview mirror, hit the accelerator, and raced up the steep driveway fishtailing and kicking up rocks and dust behind them. Eddie rocked back and forth in the backseat, his eyes wide and red with weariness. He gripped the back of the passenger seat to steady himself. Steele smelled the fear on him. Strong, pungent, like sweat. Eddie was going to be quite the screamer.
“Are you ready to play hero?” he asked.
Eddie raised the shotgun in response.
“Don’t you think that’s getting a little old? I mean how many times are you going to wave that thing at me? You realize the effectiveness gets lost in all the repetitiveness.”
“Where’s Paige?”
“Paige, Paige, Paige. Where did I leave her? As if she’s some lost token.” Steele parked the car on a concrete slab, killed the engine. “She’s right inside,” he said, pointing. “Go get her hero.”
“She better be,” Eddie said, shifting his eyes from him to the door then back. “Get out.”
Steele unhooked his seat belt, climbed out of the car, and strode around the front of the Honda. He dragged his finger across the hood as he went. He was going to enjoy this.
Eddie quickly stepped out of the car, brought the shotgun up to his shoulder. “Back off,” he said.
The gaping hole of the shotgun barrel was an insult. It would not stop him. Nothing could stop him. He saw Eddie slide his finger onto the trigger. But he also saw the hesitation in him.
Steele reached for the barrel. Eddie pulled the trigger.
The hammer fell, made a hollow snapping sound.
Surprise bloomed in Eddie’s eyes, and Steele smiled. His fingers wrapped around the barrel and he snatched the shotgun out of Eddie’s hands. Then with a quick step to one side he brought the stock of the weapon down on Eddie’s right knee. Eddie dropped to the ground in howling pain clutching his kneecap.
“I gave you chance after chance,” he said, firing a kick into Eddie’s upper lip.
A tooth flew from Eddie’s mouth, and he raised his hands to protect his face.
Steele kicked him in the back, and Eddie rolled over in an attempt to get away from his boot.
“You could have beat me to death with that pool cue,” he said. “But you didn’t have it in you.”
Eddie rolled away, and Steele followed. He stomped down on Eddie’s hand-covered face, was rewarded with the branch crack sound of boot against bone. Blood filled Eddie’s hands, covered his face. He shrieked in pain.
Yes. He was definitely going to be quite the screamer.
Steele tossed the shotgun aside, grabbed Eddie by the hair, and dragged him to the Sycamore.
“You’re about as bright as your average one watt light bulb,” he said. “You know that, Eddie? You knew I had been in your house. I was inside when you came home.”
Steele pulled the cable with the leather collar to Eddie. He strapped it around Eddie’s neck and locked it in place.
“Didn’t it occur to you that I would have searched your house for weapons?”
Eddie said nothing. He held his nose, groaned in pain, spit blood.
“I found the shotgun first,” Steele said. “It was loaded, and it wasn’t even locked up. Do you have any idea how unsafe that is? Disabling it only took moments. From the amount of dust, it looked as if you hadn’t used it in a while.”
Steele walked away from the tree to a pair of light-switches mounted next to the door to the house. Even with twenty feet of slack in the cable holding Eddie, Steele was well out of his reach. Not that Eddie seemed to be all that interested in continuing their little confrontation. He was too busy holding his bleeding nose and sobbing like a schoolboy.
“The .45 was a tad more difficult,” Steele said. “That little lock box safe you have for it is quite clever. It took a while to get it open. But after all, there could only be so many combinations.”
Steele snapped on one of the switches, turning on the flood lamp mounted to the roof of his house. It spotlighted Eddie and the Sycamore. Eddie’s face and hands were blood on pale white. His eyes were the knowing eyes of a jackrabbit caught by a mountain lion, awaiting the final pounce.
Steele snapped on the second switch turning on the electric winch bolted to the concrete. The winch whirled to life taking up slack in the cable, dragging Eddie closer to the tree. Eddie grabbed at his throat and kicked with his feet, forcing himself along with the cable to prevent being choked.
Steele opened the door to his home, went inside. He lifted a length of rope from a hook on the wall of his foyer and carried it back to the tree.
Eddie clawed at his collar. His feet thrashed about, kicking up puffs of chalky dirt as he backpedaled in an attempt to keep slack in the cable as it slowly pulled him to the tree.
Steele uncoiled a portion of rope, tied it into a lariat, and dropped the rest. He tossed the lariat at one of Eddie’s feet, lassoing him around his shin as he was pulled across the ground.
The cable reached the tree and began hoisting Eddie into a standing position. He kicked down at the rope around his leg, struggled to get it off him.
Steele waited, kept slack in the rope.
The winch stopped with Eddie’s neck pulled tight against the bark, his feet dangling inches from the ground. He raised his hands to the collar and pulled at it to keep from choking. Spittle sprayed from Eddie’s lips as he wheezed for breath. He put his heels at the base of the tree and pushed himself up to relieve the pressure on his neck and lungs.
Steele stepped around to the back of the tree, knelt down, and tied Eddie’s shin to the side of the tree with a hitch knot that could hold Eddie’s weight. Then he looped excess rope into his hand.
Eddie gasped and coughed and spat blood on the ground.
Steele grabbed Eddie’s free ankle, wrestled it into place, and tied it to the other side of the tree in the same fashion as the first. He stood then and circled the tree, just outside Eddie’s reach. The trunk split Eddie’s feet. The ropes bore his weight, kept him from hanging by his neck, allowed him to breathe.
“Where’s Paige?” Eddie asked, his voice still sounding strangled. His hands remained on the leather collar surrounding his neck.
Steele stopped in front of him. Eddie seemed to be trying to fix him with a malevolent stare, but the result looked frightened, pathetic. His eyes wet, blinking. He was clearly terrified. It was easy for Steele to see that. And to think, he’d just started. He hadn’t even brought out his razor.
“Still concerned about her? How noble. She’s right where I said she was. We’ll bring her out for a happy reunion in a few minutes. Right now let’s take care of you.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Lots of things. We’re going to have great fun together. I’m going to start by hobbling you, can’t have you running away, then we’ll get your blood flowing.”
Eddie looked away. “You won’t get away with this,” he said.
Steele laughed. “Now where have I heard that before?”
He offered Eddie his outstretched hands.
“I guess I should just give up then. Let her go. Let you go. Turn myself in to the police.”
“Screw you.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you play well with others? I tell you what. I’ll give you a choice.” Steele knelt down and moved forward. He pulled off one of Eddie’s shoes. “You or Paige.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I can cut on you or I can cut on her, your choice. Just say Paige’s name, and I’ll go to work on her.”
Eddie said nothing.
Steele removed Eddie’s other shoe then both his socks.
“Think about it. What do you think she would do if the situation were reversed? What do you think the woman who has been cheating on you would do? Do you think she’d take the cuts or pass them on?”
“I don’t care what she’d do. If you have to cut someone, cut me. Don’t hurt her.”
Steele pulled the wooden case from the inside of his boot, removed a mahogany handled straight razor, and flipped out the blade. It was time to feed the beast.
“See, you do play well with others.”
He severed Eddie’s Achilles tendon with one smooth swipe.
Eddie screamed.