trust you. I have too much at stake. There’s too many things goin’ on. I can’t afford for them to find out about Frankie. They’ll kill me.”
“ Frankie? They who?”
“Carnel. Frankie Carnel. The man you saw me with yesterday. I know you saw. I saw you staring right at us.”
“ What’s he got to do with anything?”
“Frankie has everything to with everything.”
Just as Beth thought she was going to hear the rest of the story, a boat motor from down at the river interrupted. Catfish jumped up, knocking over his beer.
“ Dang. That’s Old Poke. Stay in the trailer and clean that up. Or I will make you wish you never been born.”
He ran out the door and down the concrete steps. It had grown dark, and there was no security light. Even though Beth stared out the blinds, she could not see what was happening. She thought about running, but she knew she would not get far in this wilderness. She wondered if Catfish had left the keys in the old truck. Her thoughts wandered back to the knife. If she ran to the truck and there were no keys, could she make it back to the house before Catfish? She had no idea how far away he was. She wondered who Old Poke was. Was that another thug Catfish hung out with? And who was Frankie Carnel? Part of a crime ring? Whoever he was, Catfish was terrified of any retribution at his hands. She had gotten herself tangled in a mysterious web of danger and deceit. She knew she had to get to that truck.
Slowly she turned the doorknob, cracked the door, and listened. She could hear voices, but they were moving farther away. She stepped out onto the first step. Then she ran as fast as she could toward the rusty old truck. She was hassling for breath when she got to the truck door. When she opened the door, it let out a long creak. She felt strong arms grab her from behind and swirl her around.
“Just where do you think you’re goin’, Liza Beth? Home to Mama?”
“I...uh...I…was coming to get my other clothes.”
“Don’t you lie to me,” Catfish spat out. “You was makin’ a run for it.” He reached inside, grabbing the keys from the ignition. He grabbed her clothes from the floorboard and flung them at her.
“ You just better be glad I stopped you. I know where you’re from, Missy. I would track you down and put a bullet in yer purty skull. Now back in the house. Now!”
Elizabeth was breathless in her sobbing pleas.
“ Please...please just let me go home. Please, I beg you… Please.” She fell to her knees in the wet grass in despair, begging for her life.
Catfish’s expression softened. He reached down and took her by the arm and helped her up. He took out the dirty bandana and wiped her face roughly.
“You got to stop this. I can’t let you go. I done told you. My life is in danger. Stop crying. Just dry up,” he said, trying to appear gruff but his voice had softened. He pulled her to him; she was soft and pretty. It had been a long time since he had held a woman. Thoughts began to form in his deluded mind that she could grow to like him. He could keep her here forever. She would be his. His hands found the bottom band of her sweatshirt and swiftly they found their way underneath. Elizabeth was startled as his hands grabbed at her. She screamed and pushed him away.
“No. No...stop it!” She pulled back, but he held her firmly.
“ No use fightin’ it missy. We’re gonna spend a lot of time together up in these hills. Might as well make it fun.”
“No, Oh please, no.”
He had jerked her back to his chest, and his
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