The Running Girls(81)

A thin, even coat of muddy filth lined Frank’s face as he coughed and spluttered, desperate for air. Laurie tried to comfort him but Mosley gave them no time to rest, urging them forward.

“Where are we going?” she asked, checking the sky for any sign of the Coast Guard.

“We’re getting out of here,” he said, his focus firmly on Frank, who was doing his best to stay upright.

The situation was surreal, the three of them stumbling through the half-drowned wilderness as if they were the last people on Earth. Laurie continued with the questions. She risked trying Mosley’s patience, but she got the feeling that he wanted to talk, and she hoped to gather some vital piece of information that would work in her favor.

“You’re doing all this because of Frank? You’re trying to get back at him. For what, abandoning you?”

“Close, but no cigar.”

“I didn’t know about you,” said Frank, the rasp of his voice so dry it sounded as if he hadn’t drunk anything in hours.

“Look, I love a bit of family therapy as much as the next person, but there is a time and a place.”

“Frank is your father. You must have some compassion for him.”

“He’s alive, isn’t he?”

“It was you that killed Annie, wasn’t it?” asked Laurie, glancing at Frank, who kept his head down as he continued through the water.

“If only they’d had you on the force back then, hey, Detective Campbell? Oh wait, they did. Pretty little thing, weren’t you? I can see why my brother was interested. Not that you’re not attractive now . . .”

“Enough,” Frank snapped, surprising Laurie with the clarity of his voice.

“Oops, sorry, Dad.”

“This is all one joke for you, isn’t it?” said Frank. “You killed my Annie, and now these other monstrous things you have done. Why?”

“That one is simple, isn’t it, Dad? He took you away from me, so I took something from him,” said Mosley, the humor fading.

“What do you mean?” asked Laurie.

“What I mean, Detective Campbell, is that your husband, my brother, stole my father. Stole my life, while my mother was left to rot in a wheelchair. This rankled. Then it occurred to me I could take the one thing from him he most cherished. His mother.” He sighed. “And it worked like a charm, I can tell you.”

“But this, you . . . none of it has anything to do with David,” said Laurie. “He’s only just now found out that you exist.”

“I am most savage and unnatural, aren’t I?” said Mosley, not missing a step.

“Wasn’t it enough that I paid for your crime?” said Frank, the passion in his voice fading.

“Thanks for that, Dad. It gave me all the tingly feelings to see you locked up, it’s true. But you didn’t even know I existed.”

Frank didn’t respond, his focus ahead as they moved toward a sheltered dock area where a number of boats had survived the hurricane.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect my girl to make it,” said Mosley, stopping by a small craft chained in multiple places to the dock. “One hopes, but . . . you know. I haven’t always had the best luck.” He giggled. “Anyhoo. Let’s get you both on board, and then we can see what state she’s in. If you don’t mind taking those off,” he added, nodding down to Laurie’s water-proofed walking boots.

“You’re not serious? You want me to put on my deck shoes or something?” said Laurie, wiggling her tied arms behind her.

Mosley frowned. “Watch your step,” he said, lifting Frank over the side of the boat before gripping Laurie’s upper arm and pulling her to the edge of the dock.

“It’s not too late,” she said as she allowed him to help her on. “Leave me and Frank here, and . . .”

“And what? You’ll let me sail off into the sunset? I wasn’t born yesterday, and I don’t care if I don’t live until tomorrow. Tough odds to work against, I know.”

Mosley’s death wish was apparent. He’d been trying his luck ever since he’d abducted Frank in Galveston. If he had a plan, it was probably vague at best, she figured. And had it not been for the hurricane, he wouldn’t have gotten this far. What was clear was that his gripe was more with David than Frank. That he had been driven to these actions by a brother who hadn’t known of his existence until a few hours ago didn’t easily compute. Laurie forced herself to examine it, knowing that what slim chance she and her father-in-law might have of surviving these next few hours—or minutes—probably depended upon figuring out what drove him. He obviously felt deprived of a loving family, so he’d taken David’s. Tit for tat; clear enough, heinous as it was. She couldn’t see anything she could do with this insight, though. David’s mom was long dead, and his wife seemed pretty sure to join her unless she worked some kind of miracle here.

What else did she know about Mosley? He’d obviously cared for his mother—albeit a little too much—and had made a reasonable success of his life as an attorney. Maybe she was clutching at straws, but she hadn’t given up hope that he could be reasoned with.

Mosley made her step down into the boat’s cabin first. The only light inside came from the faint rays of sunshine filtering in from outside. The interior was dank and reeked of body odor. In the shadows, Laurie saw discarded cans of food and juice cartons before alighting on a shape cowering in the corner.