Terror on Top

by CeeCee James

  He sort of waved back but then turned away. I swear even his shoulders shrugged like he was bothered by a fly. He really wanted nothing to do with this, did he?

  I studied the picture of the numbers as I headed to the car. What was it for? Was it something a person would kill someone over?

  Chapter 18

  I gave Stella a quick update and forwarded her the picture. It turns out she was as emotionally wrung out as I felt. The open house was scheduled in two days. We promised each other we’d keep each other updated in the meantime.

  She needed some down time, as I did as well. Actually, I needed some Frank time. I texted him, asking when we could make that happen. He said he was just finishing up paperwork and he’d be right over.

  Best news ever.

  An hour later, pizza was ordered, cooking show droned in the background, and Frank relaxed on the couch in the living room. Everything was right in my world.

  I stretched my legs across Frank’s lap, practically humming with contentment.

  “So, how’re you doing, short stuff?” He started to squeeze my feet.

  “Mm, are you always going to call me that?”

  He grinned. “Always.”

  I wiggled my feet. “I’m tired and frustrated. I feel like someone handed me a Rubix Cube that is impossibly mixed up. I can’t fix it.”

  A thoughtful expression softened his eyes. It touched me that he understood me and cared. Of course he did. After all, as a cop—

  “When I was a kid, I used to pop the blocks out and reassemble it all fixed.”

  “Is that what you’re thinking about? Not sympathizing for me?”

  He rubbed my heel. “Not too much sympathy. In fact, you should feel it for me since I have a girlfriend who is always getting into trouble.”

  I laughed and closed my eyes, relaxing. “It finds me.”

  “That’s for sure. So what did you do today?”

  “I snuck into the men’s locker room at the gym and checked out the contents of one of them.”

  The foot massage stopped. I opened one eye to find him staring at me, transfixed.

  “See what I mean!” he demanded.

  “Stop. It was fine. Although what I found was no real help at all.”

  “What did you find?”

  “This weird number sequence.”

  He patted my leg. “Let’s see it.”

  Groaning, I rolled to my side and stretched for my phone on the coffee table. I found the picture and passed it over.

  Frank studied it with a furrowed brow. “Huh.”

  “Huh, what?” I asked, settling back.

  “Looks like an IP address.”

  “Really?” I sat up again.

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Can we track it down?”

  “Maybe. Probably.”

  “Oh. You can’t just type it into a search engine?”

  “It’s a little bit more complicated than that. First it has to be broken down to see if it’s public or private. We need to figure out the network and the host. But yeah. It’s doable.”

  I was more excited and hopeful than I’d been in a while. “Will you look into it for me? This might be what Justin Smith died for. Or even Calvin himself.” I chewed my nail, not wanting to share the next bit of information. “His ex-wife said that someone was still searching for something. This could be it.”

  He flopped his head against the back of the couch. After a second, his hand started rubbing my feet again. “Yeah. It’s probably best to get to the bottom of this as fast as possible.”

  “Thank you, Frank!” I flew over and gave him a kiss. He nicely accommodated me in his lap, where I swear I fit perfectly against him.

  We stayed like that for quite some time. Like I said, newly dating fireworks and all that. I loved every minute.

  We might have still been there, but there was a knock on the door.

  “Pizza’s here!”

  “Want a pizza me?” I said in my cheesiest voice as I hurried toward the door.

  He chased after me and growled. “I like the sound of that.”

  After an amazing day off to recoup, I was ready to jump into all things mystery again. Today was the final open house before the auction.

  Understandably, Stella had been so spooked by everything that had happened that she didn’t want to host it alone. Her uncle offered to work with her but I volunteered. We started this together, we’d end it together.

  I pulled up just as she was putting up the “Open House” sign. I parked in the driveway and crossed my fingers that today would go smoothly.

  “Thanks for coming,” Stella said, walking over to my door.

  “Of course. How’s it look inside?”

  “They did a great job. They even painted.”

  “Let’s do this.”

  The first half hour resulted in several rounds of solitaire on my cell phone. I lost every game. I was distracted. My heart raced at every noise.

  Stella spent a lot of time typing furiously on her phone.

  “What are you doing?” I finally asked.

  She frowned, still typing. “Trying to see how Oscar is doing. He said he wasn’t feeling well, but he’s being cagey with his answers now.”

  At the sound of a car door shutting, I ran to look out the window. I’ll admit, I wanted to see if it was the son. It was an older couple.

  They came inside and Stella showed them around. I stood by the counter and continued to play my game.

  So it went for the next couple hours. Finally an interested young couple showed up. Stella greeted them with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. I tried to see what was bothering her and saw the woman was expecting a child.

  I knew how she felt. It was hard to explain, but thinking of a baby being raised where a man had been murdered kind of made my heart stick in my throat. I did my best to force a smile as Stella introduced me.

  It was as they admired the possible nursery in the spare room that the nausea hit. I blew out a deep breath.

  My stomach lurched again when Stella led them into the master bedroom and they walked into the closet. I almost expected to see another body propped up in there.

  I started to head back to the kitchen when the young woman stopped me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, sorry, just a bit tired.” I answered.

  “You look a little green around the gills, reminds me of my first trimester.”

  Her husband looked concerned, so I hurriedly reassured him. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I’m not sick.”

  “Is it about what happened to that man recently?” the woman asked. “It was in here, wasn’t it?”

  So they knew. My eyes caught Stella’s.

  She answered calmly. “Do you have any questions?”

  I watched their faces.

  The woman started first. “It’s terrible that it happened. Were you here?”

  Stella nodded. “Yes. And so was Georgie.”

  “You poor thing! No wonder.” She patted me on the arm. “Well, the police said the house was no longer a safety concern. We actually called to ask before we came to look at it. And Darrel,” she pointed to her husband, “works for a security company. We’ll be all locked up tight before we even move in.”

  I felt some relief from that knowledge. If they bought it, they knew what they were getting into, and they were prepared.

  After they left, there were a few more interested visitors, but none stood out as definite buyers. Two more said they would check back at the auction.

  “Almost over,” Stella whispered. “I have to admit, I’m glad it’s going to auction. I won’t have anything more to do with it.”

  My reply was interrupted when an older gentleman entered through the door. His wispy white hair looked like he had just emerged from a wind storm.

  Stella walked toward him with her hand outstretched. “Hello. I’m Stella O’Neil. Feel free to wander around. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Questions
?” He smiled as he glanced around the room. He turned back toward her, and I swear I heard him chuckle. “I might have a few. I’m Calvin Dunham. This is my house.”

  Chapter 19

  I staggered several steps back. I might have fallen had I not bumped into the back of the easy chair. Stella didn’t move.

  “How… how can I help you, Mr. Dunham?” Stella’s voice quaked.

  My hand inched towards my phone in my back pocket.

  “Um,” He looked around. “I don’t know if you can.” He saw my face. “Oh, dear, no, no, no. I’m not going to hurt you. I… that’s not me, I don’t hurt people. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, maybe a fly, if I had a rolled-up magazine or something.”

  He gave a nervous chuckle.

  I forced a smile. “Mr. Dunham, there are a lot of people looking for you.”

  “Yes, I know.” He shook his head. “And I can tell you, I didn’t hurt that man.”

  So he knew about Justin Smith’s murder. “Mr. Dunham, can you tell us what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t really have time now.” His jawline hardened, and in that instant, we saw something else besides the doddering old man he’d been trying to appear. “I’ll be just a minute.”

  “Excuse me?” Stella asked, stepping closer with her hand out.

  “Didn’t you hear me? This is my house.”

  “This is the bank’s house. You have to take that up with them. As far as where your stuff is being stored, I have locker information I can get for you.”

  “Do you have any ID?” I asked. I didn’t know who he was. He sure didn’t look like the license I remembered seeing in his locker.

  This time his charade completely dropped. “Get out of my way.” He growled.

  “You need to leave, now,” Stella demanded.

  “And what about the shipping company?” I pressed, suddenly like I needed an answer right now.

  “What shipping company?”

  “The one that brought you the painting instead of taking it to auction. That’s what you’re really back for, isn’t it?”

  He sneered. “You think I’m here for the painting?”

  Stella watched him carefully. “How come you aren’t in contact with your son? He’s worried about you.”

  That question acted like a pin to a balloon. His bravado deflated right before our eyes. He stared out the windows, and then down to the floor. “If they knew I was here, they would come after me.”

  “Who? Your son and ex-wife?” I asked, confused. “Why not let them know? Your son is very concerned, and your ex seems really interested in this house.”

  His eyes fired up again. “You want me to keep them safe? Let me find what I had and pay some people off.”

  “You need to go to the police, tell them everything. They can help.”

  “Wouldn’t work,” he said. “They’d find me. I would be dead in my cell by morning.”

  “Who would find you?” I asked. I was also mulling over the word cell. So he was afraid of being arrested.

  “You seem like sweet girls. Just let me get my stuff. Stay here. Don’t follow me.” He walked past us.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked, my curiosity killing me. “Who? You have to tell me something.”

  “Not if you want to stay out of it and stay alive,” he said, disappearing down the hall.

  “I said stop, or I’m calling the cops!” Stella yelled.

  “I didn’t want to do it this way!” He yelled, pulling out a gun. “You forced me.”

  I took a step toward the front door.

  “Stop!” He waved the gun. “You two, drop your phones to the floor right now.”

  I wanted to look at Stella, but I was afraid to break eye-contact with Calvin.

  “Slowly,” he warned.

  I slid my phone out and dropped it. Stella’s clunked to the floor right after.

  “Good. Now raise your hands. In the laundry room now.”

  We lifted our hands in the air. I considered trying to attack him when his attention was on Stella, but quickly realized how dangerous that would be.

  He corralled us down the hallway. Every hair on my body stood on end just feeling his presence behind us.

  I mustered up the courage to speak despite my mouth feeling as dry as the desert. “If you’re looking for what was in the basement, it’s gone.”

  “My thumb drive. I already grabbed that.”

  “I know you worked with security stuff for the bank trying to sell this place.”

  “Georgie!” Stella hissed warningly.

  I knew she was scared. However, Calvin was the only one who had our answers.

  “Are you really a realtor? Not an undercover investigator?” He laughed. “You know too much already. Yes, it’s some private information that could make people a lot of money. I got it for insurance, and now I have to cash it in.”

  We’d reached the laundry room. He pulled out a piece of rope, and I thought he was going to tie us up. Instead he ushered us in the tiny room. He shut the door, and the door knob rattled. I realized he was tying the rope around it and connecting it to the doorknob directly across the hall. We were locked inside.

  As he worked, he spoke, his voice low, “Tell my son I’m okay. Tell him to keep an eye out for Mikey. Take the money and come meet me where we used to go fishing.”

  “What about your ex-wife?” I asked.

  “Forget about her. You hear what I said?”

  “We’ll tell him,” Stella answered.

  “I’m not the bad guy here. Remember that.”

  His footsteps moved away. Seconds later we heard the kitchen drawer being pulled out and tossed to the side. There was more silence and then a flurry of drawers being yanked out. A volcanic eruption of swearing ensued, and he moved out of the room.

  “The key,” I whispered.

  Stella nodded.

  More noise came from the house, sounding like he was upstairs. Maybe the master bedroom.

  And then… silence.

  Chapter 20

  It felt like we waited in the laundry room for an eternity. It was the smallest room imaginable, built only to accompany the appliances. With the two of us, it began to heat quickly, as well as feel stuffy.

  “How do we get out of here?” I asked.

  Stella pressed her ear to the door. “I don’t hear anything. Do you think he’s still out there?”

  “I don’t know. What if this is some kind of trick, and he’s waiting for us?”

  “Why would he do that? He wants to get his stuff and get out of here.”

  I tried the knob and pushed against the door to test it.

  A loud bang came from the living room. Stella grabbed my arm and dragged me to the ground.

  I listened as hard as I could. Nothing. My breath rose hot against the floor. There was so much dust. Before I knew it, I felt the tickle.

  I choked.

  Stella snuffled.

  We eyed each other in alarm. I promptly clamped my hand over my mouth. Another choke. Did he hear me? I plugged my nose. Choked again.

  Stella was holding her breath. Her eyes bulged.

  Footsteps came closer. I scoured the closet for any weapon. Anything at all. There was a coat hanger. I stood up and quietly unhooked it. Slowly I flattened the hanger’s curves. It wasn’t much but I could use it as a whip with a nasty hook.

  Tensing, I held it over my head. We waited. The footsteps came closer. Sweat dripped down my forehead. A splash fell into my eye, stinging.

  Stella curled her hands into fists. Time passed in terms of breaths. In. Release. In. Release.

  Stella’s eyes darted down. I followed to see the handle slowly turn. It paused even as I readied myself to turn my body into a weapon.

  “Ms. Tanner?” a male voice called out. “Are you in there?”

  We looked at each other. It didn’t sound like Calvin.

  Should I respond?

  She raised her shoulders in uncertainty.r />
  The doorknob slightly wiggled again.

  “Ms. O’Neil? It’s the police.”

  Should we believe him? I was so shattered with fear I didn’t know whether to trust him or not. I continued to wait.

  “We’ve cut the rope. You’re safe now. You can come out.”

  Neither of us moved.

  He spoke a code, and we heard an answering squawk. Someone acknowledged the code through the mic.

  Cautiously, I opened the door, hanger still raised.

  The first thing I saw was a dark trouser leg with a yellow stripe. Sturdy black boot.

  I kicked the door open.

  “You’re safe,” the officer said. “Come on out.” His partner stood in the kitchen.

  Relief hit me like an avalanche. My eyes fluttered closed as I tried not to cry.

  Stella bolted past me. She scooped up her phone from the living room floor and was on it immediately. Seconds later, she screamed, “I’m done, Uncle Chris. Done. Done. Done. I don’t want to have anything more to do with this house.”

  I couldn’t hear his response, but she answered, “I was just locked in a closet!”

  “I’m Officer Parker.” He introduced his partner. With a few more gentle questions, he took my statement.

  The kitchen was destroyed in Calvin’s efforts to find the locker key. It reminded me of the earlier vandalism. Whatever that IP address led to, it had to be important.

  Stella paced the living room still on the phone. Her face was pale.

  Officer Parker didn’t hurry her. Instead, he followed his partner upstairs. I went after them as well, curious. After everything I’d been through, I wanted to see what Calvin had been up to.

  I was creeped out to see proof that Calvin had been inside the master bedroom closet where Justin Smith had been murdered. The door had been left open and several shelves yanked out.

  I had to take a big breath before I could continue. I would never forget seeing Justin in there, not for as long as I live.

  With flashlights out, the cops examined the interior. On the far wall where the shelves had once hung was a small piece of ribbon. Officer Parker pulled on it. The ribbon was attached to the back of a piece of drywall, pulling a perfectly cut square out of the wall. Behind it was a small cubby, similar to the one in the basement below.