Page 149 of The High Tide Club
C. D. read her expression. “Come on, now. You think I’m gonna hurt you? I swear, that ain’t what this is about.”
“What is this about? Why can’t we just talk down here?” Brooke hoped her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
“I like it up top.” He jerked his chin upward. “You got a 360-degree view up there. I can see anybody coming or going. See the whole island. That’s why I chose it. Anyway, I got my dossier up there. That’s what I want you to see.”
He started up the stairs again, calling over his shoulder. His high, reedy voice echoed off the curving walls. “Your friend Gabe? He ain’t what you think he is, and I can prove it. I know you don’t believe me, but ain’t you curious?”
She was, damn it. Almost against her will, she began to climb, higher and higher. Once, halfway up, she stopped to catch her breath. She made the mistake of looking down and was seized by a sudden wave of terror. The stairs spun crazily beneath her feet, and she felt herself about to pitch backward. Panic-stricken, Brooke clawed at the brick wall, trying to gain a handhold. Bile rose in her throat, and she felt a crushing weight on her chest. She knelt and gripped the wooden stair risers at waist level.
“You coming?” C. D.’s disembodied voice floated from above.
“I can’t do this!” Brooke cried when she could catch her breath. “I’m dizzy. I’m afraid of falling!”
“Happens all the time. Don’t look down. Just keep coming.”
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She managed to stand upright. She took a step. Paused, took a breath then took another step, and then another.
***
C. D. leaned casually against the glass-enclosed turret. “Took you long enough,” he said when Brooke finally crawled onto the wooden landing. Her hands and knees were blackened from the gritty stairs, and she was sick and scared and bathed in her own sweat.
“Dizzy,” she gasped.
He reached into a Styrofoam cooler and handed her a bottle of water. “Don’t be such a crybaby.”
After she’d regained her hard-won composure, she looked around at what must have been the lens room when the lighthouse was still operational. Queasy as she was, even she would admit that the view was, as advertised, spectacular. She understood why Farrah and her friends trespassed here. From 120 feet up, she could see the roof of Shellhaven and its outbuildings, the dock, and the river, and in the far distance, the mainland. The sweep of untouched beach and endless ocean felt calming. When she turned toward the north end of the island, she could see the state’s ferry boat churning away from the island.
But the sudden head movement brought on another spasm of anxiety and nausea. She slumped down onto the floor.
“You done sightseeing?”
C. D. had made himself a rat’s nest of dirty clothes and a sleeping bag. A backpack was stashed beside a wooden soft drink crate, atop which sat a file folder and a heavy, lethal-looking flashlight.
“Here’s what I wanted to show you,” he said with a smug smile. “My dossier.”
***
Brooke opened the folder and made a show of leafing through the documents, but trying to read the already blurry printouts made her even queasier.
“What exactly do you want from me, C. D.?” she asked.
“I need your help. Your lawyer buddy Gabe tried to kill me.”
Humor him,Brooke thought.Isn’t that what you do with delusional people?
“I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “Why would Gabe try to kill you?”
“Because I know stuff about him. Stuff he doesn’t want anybody else to know. He tried to kill me once, and he’ll try it again unless you help me.”
Oh God. C. D.’s paranoia was in full flower. She eyed the holster on his hip. If challenged, would he become violent or unhinged?
“You’re saying Gabe actually tried to kill you? When was this?”
“Last week. I don’t know the day. I been running and hiding, and I lost track of time.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I been calling him a lot to, you know, try to get him to speed up this inheritance thing. Or just float me a loan, you know, until the court or whoever decides that I’m Josephine’s son and I’m her heir. I guess it pissed him off, because last week when I called, he said I was full of shit, just some damn drifter who was trying to cash in on a sick old lady. He said he’d done some research and found out some bad stuff about me.”
