Silent Victim - C. E. Lawrence [143]
“Can you stand?” Lee asked.
“I’ll—try,” Butts answered, straightening up, but he immediately bent over again. “Sorry—no use—you go on without me. I’ll catch up.”
Lee looked at Diesel, who raised an eyebrow. “We need to get there as soon as possible,” he said.
“Okay,” Lee agreed. “We’ll go on without you. You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah,” Butts said, lowering himself next to a boulder on the side of the trail. “Too—many—goddamn doughnuts.”
In a lighter moment, this would have been funny, but now all Lee felt was a pressing need to get up the trail. They left Butts leaning against the boulder and continued their climb. Lee didn’t mention the fact that his own side had been throbbing for the last mile and a half.
When they had been going for a good fifteen minutes, well out of earshot, Diesel said, “Maybe now he’ll back off on the sugar and fat and hit the gym more often.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Lee panted.
As he said the words, he heard the sound of running water.
“Hear that?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Diesel said. “We’re not far now.”
They clambered on in silence for a while, and then they saw it through the trees—the water tumbling and gurgling gracefully over the rocks, as if it didn’t have a care in the world. High above the falls was a wooden viewing platform. Standing on the platform were two people. It was hard to make out their features at this distance, but there could be no doubt that the people on the platform were Eric McNamara and Charlotte Perkins.
Diesel clutched at Lee’s arm. “What’ll we do?”
“He hasn’t seen us yet,” Lee said. “We need to get closer without being spotted.”
“Perhaps one of us could serve as a decoy or distraction while the other one sneaks up on him?”
“Good idea,” Lee said. “Do you want to be the decoy?”
“All right,” Diesel agreed, “since you know the trail.”
Lee didn’t want to point out that it had been many years since he hiked these woods, but he didn’t want to put Diesel in danger, and he thought it was riskier to approach someone like Eric from behind than to stand talking with him at a distance.
“Okay,” he said. “Don’t get too close—he might have a gun. Keep yourself covered at all times.”
“Right.”
He looked back down the trail for any sign of Butts, but saw nothing. He left the trail and bushwhacked through the woods, veering to the south, so that he would come up on the platform from the back. The foliage was dense once he left the path, and he scrambled up the hill, pushing branches and leaves out of his way.
The roaring of the falls made it hard to hear anything else, but he hoped Diesel was occupying Eric’s attention. He pushed onward. Sweat was trickling into his eyes, and he paid no heed to the branches and twigs whipping him across the face. Twice he stumbled on the rocky ground and was brought to his knees by vines wrapping themselves around his ankles. Still, he pressed on, until he could see through the trees that he was above the viewing platform.
He clambered back to the trail, scurrying down the hill toward the place in the falls where they had seen the viewing platform. He cleared the underbrush only yards away from the platform, just in time to see the figure standing on it extend his arm. He saw the glint of metal, and the unmistakable flash of a firearm. Far on the trail below, he watched horrified as Diesel fell to the ground, clutching his side.
There was a roaring in Lee’s ears as his body filled with fury. All of the rage of the past months gathered within him, propelling him forward, just as a tremendous clap of thunder sounded overhead.
He heaved himself up the few steps at the rear of the platform before his quarry had time to turn around—the combined sound of the roaring falls and the thunder made anyone standing on the platform effectively deaf. He saw the combination of alarm and relief in Charlotte Perkins’s eyes as he threw himself at Eric McNamara, aiming at his knees in a rugby tackle. The young man turned around just as Lee lunged, bringing him down hard on the cedar planks of the floor. The gun went