Greg Tenorly Suspense Series Boxed Set

by Robert Burton Robinson

  He didn’t respond quickly enough.

  Carnie raised the knife over her head, ready to throw it at Macy’s heart. “I’m sure you have a gun. Where is it?”

  “In my desk in the study—bottom left drawer. But it’s locked. My keys are—“

  “—I don’t need the keys. But you’d better not be lying.”

  Carnie ran through the bathroom and the lab, picking up a screwdriver she had noticed earlier. She ran up the stairs, through her bedroom and into the media room. Through the high window she saw the black ’56 Buick in the driveway.

  She flew up the stairs to the main floor and ran through the living room, which was barely illuminated, by light from the foyer. She flipped the light switch in Elmo’s study and hurried to his desk. It was more solid than others she had encountered, but she still managed to pry open the drawer with the screwdriver. Elmo better not have lied, she thought. She found it under some papers at the back of the drawer—a .22 caliber pistol.

  She looked up and saw Hadley standing in the doorway staring at her. She pointed and fired. But he was gone.

  He’s a dead man, she thought. Hadley was thin, and in good shape for a 77-year-old, but there was no way he could outrun her.

  She ran into the living room and went toward the foyer. She would nail him on his way out the front door. But he wasn’t in the foyer. And the front door was closed. She darted into the dining room and flipped on the light. Then she checked the kitchen. He must have gone downstairs, she thought. She hurried downstairs to find him.

  But when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard the front door opening. He tricked me, she thought. That old man tricked me! She ran up the stairs, through the kitchen, the dining room, and the foyer, and out the front door.

  She expected to see Hadley driving away in his car. Where was he? She strained to find him out in the darkness. There was plenty of moonlight—but her eyes had not adjusted from the brightness of the foyer chandelier.

  Then she thought she saw movement. Yes, there he was—running toward the woods. She took aim and fired. He went down. She watched carefully—he was not moving.

  She was about to walk out to him and make sure he was dead, when she heard Sylvia calling to her. She ran back into the house.

  **********

  Hadley had underestimated Carnie’s shooting skills. He had figured he’d be safe at that distance in the dark. Otherwise, he would have tried going for his shotgun in the trunk. But he thought it would take too long to get it out and load it. By then, she would have been close enough to hit him with her eyes closed.

  He felt the blood oozing from his side. How long before he would fade to unconsciousness? Could he make it to the car? And even if he managed to get to the car, would Carnie be watching and waiting just inside—ready to finish him off?

  Mallie Mae and Elmo were not just his employers. They were as much his family as his Horatio was. And Macy had become family too.

  Now his family was apparently in grave danger. For all he knew, some or all of them were already dead. He prayed not. But if there was any way he could help them, he would.

  But first he had to find out if he could stand up.

  **********

  All eyes were on Carnie and the gun in her hand when she walked back into the hospital ward.

  “Who’d you shoot?” said Sylvia.

  “Hadley.”

  “No,” said Mallie Mae, looking as though her husband had just been murdered.

  Elmo hung his head.

  “Why did you have to kill him?” said Macy.

  “I thought he wasn’t coming home until tomorrow afternoon,” said Sylvia.

  “He wasn’t supposed to,” said Carnie. She walked to where Sylvia was, across the room. Carsie was still standing with the prisoners, as though she wasn’t sure whose side she was on.

  Sylvia walked up to Macy and gave her an evil grin. “So, where were we, Carnie? I believe you were about to start with this one. What’ll it be first—a shot in the leg? Or chop off a finger? What do you think, Carnie?”

  “What about the money?” said Carnie.

  “You heard Mallie Mae. There is no money. But that’s okay. We can still enjoy torturing her and her clan. Anyway, that was my number one goal.”

  “That might have been your number one goal,” said Carnie, seething.

  Sylvia spun around. “What do you mean?”

  “The most important thing to me is the money. I’m getting tired of running your scams. I want enough cash so I can get away from you—once and for all!”

  Greg thought this was his best chance—while Sylvia’s back was to him and the two women were arguing. He quietly flipped the latch and released the bedrail his handcuffs were attached to.

  “But, Honey, we’re a team. And you don’t break up a great team,” said Sylvia.

  “I don’t want to be on your team anymore,” screamed Carnie.

  Greg eased the bedrail up and out of its slots, rushed up behind Sylvia and wrapped his right arm around her throat. The he slammed the bedrail across the front of her body, knocking the pistol out of her hand.

  Macy jumped forward to reach for the gun, but Sylvia kicked it across the room.

  “Looks like we have a change in plans. This one wants to go first. Let go of me right now!” said Sylvia. “Or Carnie will start shooting people!”

  But Greg tightened his grip around her neck. It looked like they were all going to die anyway. He had to try something.

  Carnie seemed ambivalent.

  “Kill them, Carnie! Start with Macy or Elmo.”

  Carnie stood frozen.

  “Do it, Carnie! Now!”

  “Only if you go along with what I want,” said Carnie coldly.

  “Are you crazy? Shoot somebody!”

  “No! I’m tired of following your orders. The woman in that bed right there is Marcia Cleggmore. Her family is very wealthy. We can get a huge ransom for her.”

  “I don’t care about the money, Carnie. It’s all about making Mallie Mae suffer—for what she did to me.”

  “That was 50 years ago, Old Woman! Why can’t you just get over it?” said Carnie.

  “I’m not going to bargain with you—just do what I say!”

  “No! I’m sick of it! You made me murder all those innocent people. And you made me kill Jake. I really liked him.”

  “Quit being a baby, Carnie.”

  “And you abused me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You started having sex with me when I was just a little girl.”

  “You wanted it too. You know you did.”

  “I didn’t know what I wanted. I was just a kid! You’re the one who turned me into a monster.” Carnie pointed the gun at Sylvia and walked toward her, getting angrier with each step.

  “Just settle down, Sweetie. I love you.”

  “Let go of her, or I’ll shoot…somebody,” said Carnie. From the look in her eyes, she just might have been ready to kill everybody.

  Greg released her and stepped back.

  Sylvia turned around and glared at Greg. “Mister, you’ve just earned yourself a bullet in the head for that foolhardy—”

  Sylvia’s expression of glee turned to surprise and fear when she felt the bullet rip into her back. She stumbled and turned around to face Carnie. “What are you doing? I’m the only one who’s ever loved you.”

  “Lady, because of you, I don’t even know what love is,” said Carnie in monotone.

  Sylvia collapsed to the floor. “You can kill me, but you’ll never be free of your demons.” Even as she was dying, Sylvia found the strength for one last dirty, evil smile.

  Carnie stood over her and looked down in disgust as she said her final goodbye. “You’re the Satan in my soul.”

  She pulled the trigger without flinching.

  Sylvia was gone, but her eyes stared at Carnie as though she could still see her.

  Carnie stepped back and picked up the other gun. “Now, I’m in
charge.”

  37 - SURPRISE ATTACK

  The wound was not as serious as he had first thought. The dizziness, he had decided, was caused by running like a maniac to get away from Carnie—not by the bullet that hit his left side. If her aim had been three or four inches to the right, Hadley might have already been dead. As it was, he had minor bleeding and a sharp pain in his ribs.

  He was familiar with the sensation of a cracked rib. But this pain was worse—she must have taken a little chunk out with that bullet, he thought. Still, he knew he was very fortunate. He pulled off his shirt, rolled it up and tied it around his ribcage to slow the bleeding.

  As he walked quickly and painfully toward the Buick, he remembered his cell phone was on the front seat. The Coreyville cops could be there in five minutes. And if he hadn’t thought he could handle the situation himself, he would have called them.

  What would happen if the police came charging in? Carnie might start shooting everyone in sight. He couldn’t take that chance. The crazy woman thought he was dead. He would use that to his advantage.

  He quietly opened the trunk, took out his shotgun and loaded it. He hadn’t killed anybody since Korea, but he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to protect his family.

  He crept up the stairs and into the house. Then he stopped to listen.

  It was very faint, but he could hear a woman’s voice coming from downstairs.

  He went down to the basement, and could hear the voice more clearly now. It was Carnie. Good, he thought. Right now she was too far away to see or hear him.

  He peeked into the media room. It was dark. Then he determined Carnie’s location. Her door was closed, but he knew she was not in there. He cracked the door and confirmed his suspicion that the sub-basement had been breached.

  He would have to call the police before he went down there—or not at all. His cell phone barely had a signal in the basement. It would be worthless in the sub-basement.

  **********

  Now Carnie had two pistols—Elmo’s .22 and the .38 she snatched out of the car dealer’s dying hand. She set the small pistol on the table with the medical supplies while keeping the .38 pointed at her prisoners. “Well, I’m looking forward to calling in a ransom demand as soon as our Mrs. Cleggmore wakes up. But it looks like we’ve got some time to kill. Come here, Macy.”

  Macy walked toward her slowly, not knowing what to expect.

  “Untie your robe.”

  “Why?”

  Carnie glared at her and pointed the gun at her head.

  Macy untied it.

  “Good. Now, unbutton your gown.”

  “Carnie, what are you doing?” said Elmo.

  Carnie ignored him. “Now!” she said to Macy.

  The buttons on Macy’s gown went from neck to waist. She struggled to unbutton them with shaky hands. Carnie didn’t seem to mind waiting—and watching.

  “Now, come closer.”

  When Macy was within two feet, Carnie stepped in and cupped her left hand around the back of Macy’s head, and began to kiss her on the lips.

  Macy could feel the gun in Carnie’s right hand when she ran it up Macy’s left side and quickly found her nipple—the same nipple Elmo had lovingly caressed a couple of hours earlier.

  She knew Carnie might push her away and shoot her at any second. The bullet would pierce her exposed chest, punching a hole through her heart. She would be dead almost immediately.

  Just as Macy’s dreams were coming to life, they would die—as would she. Why had she waited so long to let Elmo know how she felt? Even that very night on the dance floor it had been an accident. She hadn’t told him how she felt. He had seen it in her eyes.

  But if she had made a move on him when she first started to work there, she would have been fired. Elmo would not have felt comfortable dating a 22 year-old—not when he was 41. But how about when she was 30 and he was 49? He might have been okay with that.

  She could have grabbed him and kissed him. Or tried to seduce him. But she knew nothing about seduction—except what she had read in hundreds of romance novels. On second thought, maybe she knew a lot about seduction. But reading it and doing it are not the same thing.

  She should have at least tried, though. If she had, maybe Elmo wouldn’t have been available for Carsie’s scam. Maybe he would have already been married to Macy. Then, she thought, none of these lives would be in peril right now.

  Macy was relieved when Carnie stopped kissing her. But then Carnie moved her mouth down to Macy’s breast. Macy cringed at the realization that her body was responding to Carnie’s touch. And now her nipple was getting even harder as Carnie encircled it with her warm, slippery tongue. Macy was not gay. It was just a natural reaction to the stimulation. And in fact, after what she had seen and heard tonight, she figured Carnie was probably not gay either.

  Not that any of it matters now, she thought. They were all about to die—unless somebody made a courageous sacrifice for the sake of the others. Could she wrestle the gun away from Carnie? And even if she did—what about the other gun on the table?

  Carnie pushed Macy back forcefully, nearly knocking her down. “We could have been great together, Honey.” She studied the faces across from her. “Now, who do I want to mess with next?”

  “Hold it right there, Carnie.” The voice boomed from the long corridor.

  Carnie’s mind had been so preoccupied with Macy’s shapely body that she hadn’t noticed when the lights in the corridor went out. She recognized the voice as Hadley’s, but couldn’t see him. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “I was supposed to be dead in 1952. Now, put your gun down on the floor and kick it toward me.”

  “You’re good, Hadley. I’ll say that.” Carnie squatted and appeared to be following Hadley’s instructions. Then she rolled to the floor and started shooting blindly into the dark corridor. She fired all six rounds. Hadley did not return fire.

  The room was silent, except for the diminishing echoes of the gunshots.

  “You missed,” said Hadley. As he had figured, she had assumed he was standing, not lying down. “Now, just stay right there on the floor.”

  But she didn’t. She scrambled to the table, picked up the .22 and fired into the corridor, emptying the gun.

  “Are you done?” said Hadley.

  “I know I shot you in the front yard.”

  Hadley stepped into the light of the hospital ward, holding his shotgun. The rolled-up shirt he had tied around himself was bloody in one spot. “Yes, you did. But it’s not the first time I’ve ever been shot.”

  Carnie stood up.

  “Just stay right there,” said Hadley.

  She reached behind her back and pulled out the knife.

  “Don’t make me do it,” said Hadley.

  She looked directly at Elmo and raised the knife above her head. “Everybody say ‘goodbye’ to Elmo.”

  She pulled her arm back, ready to throw the knife, but before she could release it, Hadley fired the shotgun.

  The knife few against the wall, along with two of Carnie’s fingers. The rest of her bloody hand was scattered across the table and on the floor. She lay on the floor, screaming in agony. Her former prisoners looked on in horror.

  “Somebody go upstairs and call 911,” said Hadley.

  But nobody reacted. All eyes were on Carnie.

  She felt across the floor with her left hand and found the knife.

  “No—put it down,” said Hadley.

  “I’m sorry for the horrible things I’ve done,” she said, holding the blade at her throat.

  Hadley was surprised by the look in her eyes—her remorse seemed real.

  “But I’m not going to prison.” And with a quick jerk of the knife the blood began to gush from her neck.

  Hadley knew there was nothing he could do to save her. He knelt and watched her sad eyes quickly fade.

  After a few moment of complete silence, Cynthia said, “Could somebody please get these handcuffs o
ff of us?”

  Hadley found the key on the table and took it to Cynthia. She took off her cuffs and Beverly’s, and gave the key back to Hadley, who went to the next bed.

  Cynthia prayed that the drug Carnie had given her mom and the other women had not done any permanent damage. But they were lucky to have slept through most of the ordeal.

  Greg was still carrying around the bedrail he was handcuffed to. He put his arm around Cynthia. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

  “Yes. I just hope Mom’s going to be alright.

  Even before Elmo’s handcuffs had been removed, Macy ran to him and hugged him.

  Mallie Mae smiled. “I refuse to let you two waste any more time. We need to start planning the wedding.”

  Macy wrenched her head around in shock, popping her neck. “What?”

  “I said we need to start planning your wedding,” said Mallie Mae.

  “But…Elmo hasn’t proposed…”

  Elmo dropped to one knee, his left hand still cuffed to the bed. “Macy Golong, will you marry me?”

  Macy’s eyes erupted with tears. After waiting so many years, she had not expected it to happen all at once—in one day. “Oh, yes, Elmo. You know I will.”

  But then she felt bad for Carsie. If things had gone as planned, Elmo and Carsie would have been on their honeymoon right now, she thought. And now poor Carsie was having to watch her fiancé propose to Macy. She looked to see how Carsie was handling it, but couldn’t find her. “Where’s Carsie?”

  Mallie Mae said, “She’s right over—”

  “—she’s gone,” said Elmo.

  Hadley ran upstairs, shotgun in hand. On his way up to the kitchen, he heard the engine starting. By the time he made it through the foyer and out onto the porch, she was too far away. He would have only shot at her tires anyway. She hadn’t killed anybody—as far as he knew.

  He ran to his car and jumped in. He would call the police on his cell phone and follow her until they took over. He reached for the ignition.

  But his keys were gone.

  38 - WEDDING PLANS

  “More popcorn, Beverly?” Greg held up the big plastic bowl.