Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection

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Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection Page 95

by Gordon Kessler


  Darkness. He passed out.

  CHAPTER 44

  The dog saw Parker wasn’t moving. He heard someone coming down the stairs and dropped Parker’s arm, then moved to a dark corner in the downstairs hall by the stairway.

  *-*-*

  Julie peeked out from the top of the steps, wearing a Kansas City Royals nightshirt that came down to about mid-thigh. “Honey?” she called. “Tony, what’s going on down there, are you all right?” Julie came down the steps slowly, cautiously looking to see what was going on. “Tony, is everything all right?” She walked down to the bottom step and saw the over-turned

  couch with Tony’s bloody arm sticking out. “Tony!” she shrieked. Julie turned quickly to see Yankee step out of the darkness. He

  announced his presence with a growl, moon eyed, pupils dilated and

  dark. Saliva drooled in strings from both sides of his mouth. Julie ran up the stairs. Yankee followed at full speed. Julie screamed.

  Nick stood at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  Without answering, she grabbed him up and ran for the master bedroom door and the phone inside. Audrey’s door was closed. She would be safe. Julie made it through the master bedroom door, slamming it behind, just as the big brute hit it with his front paws with a bang.

  She ran to the phone and dialed 911 but misdialed.

  “Oh, damn!” she exclaimed.

  Nick looked confused and began crying.

  The dog jumped at the door repeatedly, striking it hard.

  Julie could hear the baby also begin to cry from her room. The jumping against the door stopped. She paused to hear what was going on. The only sound was Audrey’s crying. It sounded miles away to her anxious heart.

  The dog started up again, jumping against the door. This time it sounded different. It wasn’t the master bedroom door. It was Audrey’s door.

  She punched 911 correctly this time and waited for a response. A strange sort of cracking came when Yankee hit the baby’s door the last time. It puzzled her. Still no response. The Wichita 911 dispatchers had been overwhelmed with prank calls and false alarms concerning mad dogs, lately. This was apparently the case tonight.

  The banging stopped. The house, quiet. Eyes shifting, ears straining. A crash came from Audrey’s room.

  “My God, the baby bed!” Julie screamed and threw the phone down. She ran Nick to the master bathroom. “Don’t move. Do you hear me? Mommy will be right back,” she said in her calmest possible voice to the still crying child.

  She slammed the door shut and ran back to the master bedroom door, grabbing a fireplace poker from its stand on the way. After a deep breath, she swung the door open.

  Julie screamed like an attacking Apache as she rounded the doorway and charged into Audrey’s open bedroom. The baby bed was overturned and the baby was gone.

  “Oh, you dirty-son-of-a-bitch,” she yelled. She held the fireplace poker above her head and turned to go look for them.

  “Where’s my baby?” she cried.

  Julie stopped by the steps and listened. The baby didn’t cry anymore. Only silence. Even Nick had quieted.

  Had the dog killed Audrey? No, she couldn’t bear to even consider it. Audrey was still alive. She was going to find her.

  Julie glanced in the other upstairs bath. Nothing. She popped her head into Nick’s room. Still nothing.

  “Downstairs. They must be downstairs,” she muttered. She descended the staircase slowly.

  Still, no sound. Every few steps, she paused, listening, hoping to hear something, anything.

  At the bottom of the steps she stopped. Tony’s arm still stuck out from under the couch.

  “Tony!” she whispered, insistently, “Tony!”

  She heard the creaking of a door upstairs. She recognized it as the master bath door. Nick must have come out.

  “Damn, doesn’t he ever mind?”

  At least he was upstairs. Yankee was down—she thought. She started back up to tell Nick to get back to the bathroom, then saw the top of the door to Audrey’s room move. Yankee had been behind it. He’d been hiding. Julie heard the big dog’s heavy feet tromp across the floor.

  “Oh, no, Nick!” She ran up the stairs in time to see Yankee dart into the master bedroom. He no longer had Audrey. He’d hidden her, like a wolf might hide a rabbit it had caught until things were safe to devour it.

  The high-pitched scream of the six-year-old boy shot through the house. “No, Yankee, we’re not playing monsters.”

  Yankee gave a snarling bark. He pounced at the boy as Julie ran into the room.

  Nick jumped on the waterbed and scampered across on hands and knees to the other side. The dog jumped onto the bed but turned, distracted by Julie.

  “Hey, get back, you.” She held the poker out in front of her in a threatening pose.

  Julie saw Nick run into the closet and climb up the clothes to the shelf above the clothes rod. Good boy. He’d be safe there, for now.

  Yankee stood in the middle of the bed, off balance from the motion of the water, snarling at Julie. He would lunge at any second. She lunged first, hoping to catch him off guard.

  Julie pushed the poker out like a bayonet on the end of a rifle.

  Yankee moved. The sharp end hit the waterbed mattress, rupturing it. He came back around and clamped onto Julie’s forearm. She jerked it away. The flesh tore, horribly, and blood dripped.

  “You son-of-a-bitch, where’s my baby?” she yelled, hitting the dog on the back of the head with the poker. It didn’t seem to faze him. With the last whack, it slipped from her hands. The dog left the bed. He squared up on her, eight feet away. Without a weapon, she didn’t stand a chance.

  He barked and charged.

  She turned and bolted into the master bath doorway but was unable to get the door closed before he came through. It caught him at the neck.

  More frantic, hoarse barking.

  Julie held the door as tight as she could against his thick neck, hoping she could strangle him. He struggled. He pushed in jerks, trying to advance into the room. Frothing slobber flew from his mouth. He lunged hard and caught Julie’s thigh, raking his teeth across it. She pushed and hit at his big, soft nose with the heel of her hand and finally repelled him, but his head still stuck through the door.

  Julie twisted her face in agony. Blood ran down to her slipper. His hot, slobbering breath puffed on her leg. She held the door, terrified. More blood ran down her arm to her elbow, then dripped onto the side of Yankee’s distorted, angry face. It made her feel nauseous, and she wanted to vomit. She couldn’t hold the door for long, she knew that. But as long as she did, everyone else was safe. She would be killed as soon as she let go, no doubt. Maybe the police would come. Maybe the 911 operator had picked up and traced the call.

  “Yankee! Bad dog, Yankee! Get back!” Tony’s angry voice boomed from the stairs.

  Julie was relieved but no less frightened.

  Yankee stopped struggling. He stood motionless for a moment, his head still protruding into the bathroom. For an instant, she thought he might be back to his old self again. She eased up on the door only slightly. As soon as she did, the dog yanked his head back. Her body weight slammed the door.

  Yankee barked out, even fiercer than before.

  She could hear him bounding like a grizzly bear across the floor.

  “Oh, no, Tony, Tony, I’m sorry,” she cried.

  She heard a muffled thump.

  CHAPTER 45

  The only light on at Doc White Cloud’s clinic was in the reception area. Truong sat at Patsy’s desk with the phone in his right hand and right index finger holding down the button. He put a stack of a dozen files back into the F section in the file drawer, then pulled out a dozen and a half more from the Gs. He opened the first file then punched the listed telephone number.

  “Hello, Mrs. Gabriel…? This Truong, at Dr. White Cloud clinic. . . . Yes, very bad about doctor. . . . Me like you watch Channel Two News wi
th dog, uh, Tip, tonight ten o’clock. Me interviewed. Me have special treat, uh, kind of experiment for Tip. Me make Tip do trick from television. . . . Me can’t say now. You and Tip watch, then you see. Thank you. Bye.”

  *-*-*

  Tony Parker had waited, mid-way, on the steps and let Yankee leap at him. He sidestepped at the last second and pushed him away and down the steps, then ran to the master bedroom and shut the door. Julie hurried out to greet him.

  “Oh, Tony!” She hugged him.

  “The kids?” he asked.

  He saw Julie look to the closet. Clothes lay on the floor. She ran to the closet and found Nick up on the shelf and helped him down. Tony stood guard by the door.

  “Audrey isn’t here. I don’t know where she is!” she cried. “He had her. The son-of-a-bitch took her and hid her somewhere!”

  “Damn!” Tony exclaimed. “Call 911.”

  “I tried, but I couldn’t get through.”

  “Well, try again, this time don’t stop trying until you do. And whatever you do, don’t open this door, no matter what happens, until I tell you or the police get here.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find Audrey.”

  Parker opened the bedroom door and looked out, just in time to see Yankee run by and down the steps, dragging what looked like a doll in his mouth.

  He ran out the door, closing it quickly behind, then flew down the steps behind the dog. Yankee turned sharply at the bottom and faced him.

  The Saint Bernard growled, wild eyed. Dilated eyes. Not Yankee’s.

  Audrey hung from his mouth by the back of her neck. His huge mouth covered the child’s throat. Her eyes were closed. She was silent, but he could see no blood. Any movement form Parker could cause Yankee to sever poor little Audrey’s head with not much more than a twitch from the dog’s powerful jaws.

  Parker had only one plan. If he raised his fist as if he were going to strike the dog, maybe he would drop the baby to defend himself. What would happen after that, he didn’t know. Of course, instead of dropping her, he could just go ahead and chomp.

  He had to take the chance. He had to get her from him, now.

  “Bad dog, Yankee,” he said, raising his fist “Bad dog!”

  It worked. The dog dropped the baby and went for Parker’s fist. Parker came around with the other hand and punched him square on top of the head, dazing the dog. He jumped on Yankee’s back and got him in a strangle hold from behind with his forearm. He’d used this hold many times before in Marine basic training when the recruits learned to choke each other out. In a few seconds, Yankee would be unconscious. A few more, there would be brain damage. A few more and Yankee would die.

  “Julie, come out here and get Audrey!” Parker yelled out.

  She came running down the steps.

  Parker kept Yankee in the death grip. The dog’s eyes closed halfway and became blank.

  “Damn it, Yankee. Why’d it have to happen to you?” he said softly into the dog’s ear. Yankee continued to struggle for a few more seconds, then quit and lay limp.

  “Is she alive?” Parker asked, looking up at Julie as she inspected Audrey.

  She shook her gently. “Come on, baby, wake up. Come on, Audrey.”

  She paused and looked at the limp little body in her hands. Julie began crying. “Oh, Tony, I don’t know. I think she’s dead!”

  Parker dropped the dog, got up and held onto the baby with Julie. Nick ran down and grabbed onto both of them.

  “Come on, Audrey, open those pretty little eyes,” he said in a soft, yet frantic, tone. Then, in anguish he cried out, “Oh, God, please don’t take her from us. Please don’t take her, too!”

  Audrey’s limp body twitched. It twitched again. Her little face wrinkled up into a frown. She began crying, beautiful crying.

  Julie chuckled, a sort of nervous, relieved laugh, and they stood together, hugging and laughing and even crying a little.

  *-*-*

  They were too busy rejoicing to notice Yankee’s body also twitching just a few feet away. His eyelids rolled open.

  *-*-*

  Something brushed against Parker’s leg.

  “Are you going to be a good dog now?” Nick asked. “No more playing monsters.”

  Lightning bolts shot through Parker’s body. He turned quickly. Yankee stood behind.

  Julie screamed. Parker handed the baby over to her, shielding them with his body.

  Yankee cocked his ears and head. He stood with a curious look, pupils back to normal, wagging his tail, “Uh-uh-uh-uh-errr,” he said in his old way of chimpanzee talk.

  “Thank God!” Parker said, “I think he’s snapped out of it.”

  Nick began to pet him, but Parker knew he had to be sure the danger was over.

  “Sorry, boy, but you’re getting locked up.”

  He took him out the door and led him to the cage in back of the truck.

  Parker came back in the house with head spinning, feeling confused and nauseous. He felt the symptoms again.

  “What just happened here, Tony? What’s going on?” Julie asked, still holding the baby, who’d finally settled down, and stroking Nick’s hair.

  He put his arms around all of them and said in a soft voice, “I don’t know. It just doesn’t add up.”

  He looked at each member of his family, thinking how fortunate he was to still have them.

  CHAPTER 46

  Parker phoned 911 and cancelled the emergency call. He and Julie inspected Audrey carefully before deciding not to take her to the emergency room. She seemed to be fine, except for a few red marks on her neck. Her soft, tender baby skin hadn’t even been broken. What they all needed now was sleep. Tomorrow, they could have her checked out.

  After Julie and Tony bandaged each other’s injuries, Julie took the kids upstairs, and Parker sat down in his recliner and started to play the what if game again, his time running out. Now, there was a given: Yankee was set off by a dog whistle, blown by Truong on TV.

  What if Truong had caused all of the recent dog attacks? What if he could do the same thing he’d done on TV over the phone? That would explain the speakerphone in Spencer’s office and the phone being off the hook at Mrs. Nightingale’s. It could explain the others. Maybe he’d done it from outside the houses.

  If that were the case, it would explain why Truong didn’t want to take the dogs’ heads to the lab to be tested for rabies.

  But still, the biggest piece of the puzzle was why. What could be his motive? Robbery, maybe? There was the possibility that half a million dollars had been taken from MacGreggor’s, along with a diamond-studded letter opener. That one was easy to get away with. No one knew of the money for sure, and only Mrs. Crane knew of the letter opener. There was no obvious reason for the other attacks. The only thing they had in common, with the exception of Pastor Santini, was that they all had dogs and had taken them to Dr. White Cloud’s.

  Once again, why? It all pointed to Parker. Truong was out to get him. But he hardly knew this Truong character, let alone ever gave the man a reason to destroy Parker’s world. But why make Parker suffer? Why not just kill Parker and get it over with?

  Another big question was how. With a simple dog whistle?

  Everything seemed such a mess. It was hard to concentrate. Parker’s head throbbed, and his body ached. It must be the rabies. He didn’t have much time. He had to fight it until he could put an end to this madness. He had to tell someone about Truong, but who would believe him? How could he prove it? He couldn’t think clearly.

  Parker grimaced, frustrated.

  It was all too much. Overwhelming. He wanted to be with the ones he loved. He wanted to run away with them, away from this mess. But he could not run from the rabies.

  He lifted from his seat, stiff, sore joints complaining, and went upstairs and found the family in Nick’s bed. With the master bedroom’s waterbed torn open, he understood why. He squeezed in and lay with them on the little twin bed until
he was sure they all slept. It was a tight fit, but the need to be with them and feel their hearts beat superseded any need for comfort.

  He heard Julie’s breath slow, then calm to a peaceful sleeping rhythm and suddenly realized the danger he put them in. Rabies is a very contagious disease, he thought.

  He rolled out of bed and stared back at his soundly sleeping family. He must leave. He could no longer endanger his family with the rabies or this madman Truong.

  Parker walked outside and sat on the tailgate of the truck, looking in the cage at a very sad Yankee. He had to clear his head, but every minute that passed made it harder for him to think rationally.

  *-*-*

  Ten blocks away, Sarah Hill fixed herself a rum and Coke after a hot shower and sat down in her bathrobe to read a romance paperback. Sheik lay next to her on the sofa, and she fondled his neck and back between sips.

  She looked at the open book but didn’t read the words, thinking of how the next few weeks were going to be so much of a change. She was about to leave everything she loved: the town, the friends, the job. She even loved her little apartment although the dishwasher didn’t work and the manager was an asshole.

  Then, there was Tony Parker.

  Hill smiled, thinking of him.

  She’d never wanted a man like she wanted Tony. She’d done everything she could to get him. Still, he’d gotten away even though she knew he wanted her as much. Maybe it was that kind of married-man morals that made her love him. It wasn’t very common in the modern world of cheating and indiscriminate sex. He’d come close to slipping, once. But she wondered if even then he would have followed through if they hadn’t been interrupted. She was sure there was something more to it than that and she hoped it wasn’t rabies. After all, he had been through one hell of a lot. A lesser man could easily have had a nervous breakdown by now.

  Hill took a sip from her drink and thought of how shocked Parker had been in the truck when she started sucking on his finger. She giggled. It was so much fun to tease and fluster him. She was an old movie buff, and to her, Tony Parker was as close to Gary Cooper, reincarnated, as a man could get. At times, he was also like the father she never knew. Hers was killed in SCUBA accident when she was three.

 

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