“Aw, dammit,” exclaimed Rat in frustration. “Do you speak English?”
“L’anglais? Moi? Non,” said Dominique.
“But, you said something in English before,” Rat argued.
“Quoi?” said Dominique.
“What did she say?” asked Smokie.
“I think it means what,” Rat replied.
“No, before,” said Smokie. “You said she spoke in English before. What did she say?”
“Christ, I don’t remember,” Rat snarled. “But it sounded like English.”
“Maybe she said something in French but it sounded like English,” Smokie suggested.
“De quoi parlez-vous?” Dominique demanded.
“Shit, this is gonna be tougher than I thought,” Rat muttered.
* * * *
‘That’s my girl,’ thought Leslie as she approached the neighbor’s yard through the trees. ‘Keep them going just a minute longer.’
“Les!” came Sandy’s urgent whisper from the darkness to one side, causing her to stop in her tracks.
“What are you doing here?” Leslie asked as she joined Sandy behind a tall copse of shrubs.
“Backing you up,” Sandy replied. “I was closer than you were so I knew I’d get here in time. How are we doing this?”
“I’m hoping they’re still in the sunroom,” said Leslie, taking advantage of the moment to cock and arm the crossbow. “If they are, I can take at least one out. You go around the front. I don’t think they’ve noticed Dom’s earpiece so we’ll take a chance and un-mute our phones to stay in touch. If I need you inside, I’ll let you know. If one of them comes out, shoot him.”
Sandy nodded and quickly disappeared into the brush as she headed toward the front of the property. As she crept along the edge of the clearing on the side of the house, the stack of chopped firewood, or more precisely, the axe protruding from the chopping block, caught her eye. Noting the side windows were dark, she ran in a crouch, yanked the axe out and hurried to the front corner of the home. Following a quick glance to confirm the coast was clear, she hurried across the lawn and up the steps onto the wide porch which spanned the width of the building, taking cover against the wall by the front door.
* * * *
With his eye still on Dominique, Rat addressed Smokie. “As much as I’d like to strip this little bitch down and show her what it’s really like to fuck with me, I think we should haul her ass next door and let Butch decide how to deal with her. Keep an eye on her while I get my own clothes back on.”
He handed Smokie the gun then stripped off the clothes he had found and donned his jeans, t-shirt and running shoes.
“How’d you end up here, anyway?” he asked as he tied his shoes.
“Two of them ambushed me as I was driving on the road just out front,” answered Smokie. “One was pretending to be passed out on the shoulder and the other was freaking out and begging for help. Then they pulled guns on me, got me back in the truck and drove me here.”
“Go see if the truck’s still out there somewhere,” said Rat, reaching for the pistol with one hand as he pulled his phone from his jeans pocket with the other. “I’ll keep an eye on our little lady here while I bring Butch up to speed.”
Smokie nodded and headed toward the front door while Rat turned his phone on and waited for a signal to place his call.
* * * *
“And you’re sure it’s an arrow?” Butch asked, not for the first time.
“It’s a fucking arrow, Butch,” Fingers replied before taking another pull of vodka from the bottle. “Go see for yourself if you don’t damned believe me. It’s stuck right in the side of his head, sticking out about a foot.”
“Don’t get your shorts in a knot,” Butch snarled. “I didn’t say I don’t believe you but really, a fucking arrow?”
His phone trilled at that moment, interrupting their argument.
“Well, God damn it to hell,” said Butch in surprise as he looked at the call display. “It’s Rat.”
* * * *
As one would expect with a sunroom, three of the four walls enclosing the comfortable space currently occupied by Dominique and Rat consisted mainly of large windows, most of which were open with only the screens separating the inside from the outside.
From where Leslie was now positioned, she had a clear view of Rat where he stood inside, barely twenty feet away, a distance made to seem even shorter as she watched him through the scope. Taking careful aim, she could not afford to miss and had no intention of doing so, she slowly exhaled and pulled the trigger of the crossbow.
* * * *
Though Dominique was doing her best to appear brave in the face of her captors, she was a quivering mess of fear on the inside, well aware that the cards likely held pain, suffering and death for her in the not too distant future. However, things sometimes quickly change in life and, on occasion, for the better.
She sat on the couch, glaring at the brute who stood before her, his gun trained on her in his left hand, his phone held to his ear with his right hand as he waited for his call to be answered. She blinked and he was suddenly lowering both hands and dropping the gun and phone, a dazed expression on his face, his eyes glazed over. As he started to fall forward toward her, he tried to raise his hands to his neck and she noticed the bolt. Sticking out some six inches from just below his ear on the right side, the other end protruded about the same length from his left ear.
Rolling off the couch, she managed to get out of the way, avoiding his landing on her. The door leading in from the porch opened and Leslie rushed in, putting a finger to her lips.
She leaned over and picked up the phone, disconnecting the call before speaking. “Where’s the other one?”
“Gone to find his truck,” Dominique replied, pointing toward the front door.
“Stay here, babe,” said Leslie, pausing just long enough to load her last bolt before disappearing into the dining room beyond.
* * * *
“Hello? HELLO?” Butch shouted into the phone. “RAT? WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON?”
“Aww, Jesus Christ,” he snarled, slapping the phone onto the kitchen table. “The bastard hung up on me.”
“Are you sure it was him?” asked Shades.
“Who the hell else could it be?” Butch challenged. “It was his damned phone, you idiot.”
“But if someone got him, they would have his phone,” Shade argued as patiently as possible, “So they could have made the call.”
“Oh yeah? And how would they know my number?” Butch demanded.
“Aww, jeez, bro,” said Shades, standing and shaking his head. “Fucking speed dial, man.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Butch conceded. “I can’t even think straight anymore with all this shit going on and I’ve had it. Those bastards in the other room have to know what the hell is happening. I’m sure of that. I’m going to take a leak and then they’re going to start talking.”
* * * *
Alex paced impatiently in the marina’s parking lot, waiting for his brother to arrive while the three men he had selected to accompany him calmly smoked and chatted by his Audi Q7. Though he hoped they would not have to use any of them, several handguns, rifles and baseball bats had been loaded in the cargo area of the SUV.
The sound of a vehicle turning into the parking lot got Alex’s attention but he was disappointed to see a red E-Series Wagon rather than his brother’s Escalade. However, as the mini-bus pulled to a stop beside him, he realized that Serge was at the wheel with five other men lounging on the seats behind him.
“Where did you get this?” Alex asked as his brother lowered the window.
“My long-term guest at the pub was driving it,” Serge replied with a smile. “I figured I might as well use it because he certainly doesn’t need it for a while. You’re ready to go?”
“All set,” said Alex. “We were waiting for you guys to arrive.”
“What about the boats?” asked Serge.
“They left about five
minutes ago,” replied Alex. “Two boats with four men in each.”
“So, eighteen of us in all,” said Serge. “That should be enough.”
“I would think so,” Alex agreed. “It’s nice to have family and friends for special occasions. Let’s get going.”
* * * *
Smokie stepped out the front door and, not bothering to close it behind him, began crossing the porch to the steps when he sensed more than heard movement to his left behind him. He turned in time to see Sandy swinging the axe at him, a move which saved his life. The blade, which would have caught him on the back of the neck and likely decapitated him, swung mere inches from his face, mainly because he launched himself in a backward dive down the half dozen concrete steps.
Landing with a thud on his back, he began to crab walk in desperation as Sandy came after him with the axe raised above her shoulder, ready to strike.
“Gimme a break, lady,” he pleaded, ceasing his crawl as he realized trying to escape was futile. “I’m just trying to get outta here. I didn’t do anything except go along for the ride.”
“You bastards kidnapped my husband and friends,” said Sandy, stopping her advance. “You beat them, destroyed our property, stole from us–”
“I never touched any of them,” Smokie interrupted, “And I didn’t break nothing. All I did was drink some of your beer and eat a burger. Tie me back up, call the cops and turn me in if you want to but don’t kill me like an animal.”
“Get up,” Sandy ordered as she took a step back.
“Okay,” Smokie replied. “Just don’t hit me with that thing.”
Keeping an eye on Sandy, he gingerly rose to his feet and brought his hands to his head, seemingly adjusting his bandana.
“What are you do–” Sandy started to ask when he suddenly lunged toward her.
Just as quickly, he staggered back and gasped, dropping the small knife he held as he grasped as the arrow imbedded deep into his chest. His knees buckled and gravity took over, pulling him to the ground in a crumpled heap.
“The bastards had to have a knife to get out of those zip-ties,” said Leslie as she descended from the porch, “And I doubt Rat had one stashed somewhere in his birthday suit so that left this dude. I figured he’d use it if he had a chance. Are you okay?”
Sandy nodded. “Just a little rattled and really pissed off. Is Dominique okay?”
“I haven’t asked yet but I think so,” Leslie replied, confirming Smokie was dead before yanking the bolt out of his chest. “Let’s go check on her then we have to get back to your place and end this thing.”
“What about him?” asked Sandy, still glaring at Smokie’s body.
“He’s not going anywhere,” said Leslie. “We’ll pick him up later. Come on.”
Chapter 23
Saturday - 8:42 p.m.
“Okay, ladies,” Leslie announced as she and Sandy hurried through the woods, “We’re back on live so un-mute your phones. Dominique’s okay, still at the neighbor’s house and intent on using the gun I left her if she has to. Sandy and I are on our way. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“I’m in the trees out front where you were before, Sandy,” was Josée’s response. “Cathy’s going to check the sliding doors to the den and I’m covering her in case someone comes out.”
“Be careful, Cathy,” Leslie cautioned as she and Sandy accelerated their pace. “I wish you’d wait until we’re back.”
“I’m just checking,” Cathy whispered from outside the den. She reached for the door, pushed on the handle and added. “It’s unlocked.”
“We’ll be there in two minutes,” said Leslie, breaking into a run.
“I’ll be inside,” Cathy replied then slid the door open and slipped out of Josée’s sight.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Leslie muttered but nobody responded.
* * * *
Convinced that someone was out there eliminating his crew, Butch had decided to do a security tour of the house upon leaving the bathroom. As he walked by the den, he noticed the voile curtain covering the patio door flutter as if in a sudden breeze. He stepped into the darkened room and moved past a large wall unit which housed some entertainment equipment, crouching beyond it to watch and wait. He knew the door had been shut earlier, having entered through it and closed it himself, but one of his crew might have since left the door ajar. However, this just might be whoever had been getting rid of his men attempting to come in and finish the job and, if this was the case, Butch had no intention of giving in without a fight.
He waited for a moment and was rewarded for his patience when he heard the door slide open a bit further and a silhouette appeared. The curtain was pushed aside and the intruder entered and crouched by the door. Butch was shocked, even angered to note it was a woman and adrenaline coursed through his veins as he anticipated making her pay for the trouble she had caused him.
He remained still, hoping she did not see him, as he wished to take her completely by surprise, though he had no qualms with simply shooting her if he was spotted. She remained where she was, motionless for a moment, during which time she gave the room no more than a cursory glance before rising to her feet and creeping toward the hallway. Reaching the arched doorway, she paused to peek around the corner while withdrawing a handgun from somewhere inside her denim jacket. With her back to him and her attention elsewhere, Butch rose and moved silently in on her.
* * * *
“Cathy, where the hell are you?” asked Leslie, she and Sandy having rejoined Josée behind the wall of conifers along the front of the Barry property.
“I can’t talk right now,” Cathy replied, her whisper barely audible.
“She’s in the den, right by the hallway,” Dominique informed them, having scanned the cameras to locate their friend. “I can barely see anything though, because it’s dark.”
“Cathy, please just stay put,” Leslie begged. “Find somewhere to hide until we move in. We just need to–”
“Oh, non,” Dominique’s voice cut in. “Cathy, look out!”
* * * *
As Cathy heard Dominique’s warning, her legs were kicked out from under her, sending her crashing to the hardwood floor. Pain flashed through her left arm as her elbow took the brunt of the fall and her pistol went skidding down the hallway, well out of reach. Immediately, her attacker was on her, dropping heavily with his knees onto her back as he rained blows to her head. Raising her arms to protect herself did not stop the animal who continued his volley for a moment before rising to his feet. After kicking at her torso a couple of times for good measure, he finally stepped back.
“Get up, bitch,” he ordered as he flicked on the light.
Sobbing and gasping for breath, Cathy attempted to get up on her hands and knees but the pain in her left arm sent a wave of dizziness and nausea coursing through her and she sprawled back to the floor.
“I said get up,” Butch growled, kicking her in the thigh.
Cathy retched then groaned, “I can’t. I think my arm is broken.”
Butch leaned down, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet before slamming her face first against the wall.
“Now you’re standing,” he said, pressing against her, one hand still clutching her hair, the other pushing the muzzle of his revolver against her neck. “Don’t make me have to help you up again, understand?”
Cathy nodded wordlessly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Releasing her, Butch stepped back and asked, “Anything else on you like that gun you dropped?”
“Just my phone,” Cathy replied, “Top left pocket of my jacket.”
Butch slipped his hand over her shoulder, pulled the phone out and threw it into the far corner of the den.
“Not that I don’t trust you,” he said, “But I wanna make sure you didn’t forget about anything else.”
She tensed as he frisked her, cringing as his fingers strayed and groped a little too long on her breasts, buttocks and thighs but after
a moment, he pulled away, the pat-down over.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
Cathy turned slowly, wincing in pain and maintaining contact with the wall for support. Staring up at him with anger and fear, she recognized him as Butch, the leader of the gang. She fought another wave of nausea as he looked her over, his eyes roaming down her body, a faint smile on his lips as he went.
“I think we’re gonna have some fun together,” he said, finally returning his gaze to hers, “But first, I wanna know more about you, get to know you a little better. Have a seat over there and you and me are gonna have a chat.”
* * * *
The others could still hear Cathy’s responses and her captor’s distant words so they were certain her earpiece had not yet been discovered.
“Cathy, we’re ending this call,” said Leslie. “Lose the earpiece if you can. Cooperate and say you’re alone. We’re on our way.”
She ended their conference call and set up another sans Cathy.
“I didn’t want her still linked up if he checks her phone,” she explained once the new call was established. “Dom, you’ll continue to be our secret eyes and you’re doing great, babe. The slightest thing you see that can help, you let us know.”
“Absolument,” Dominique acknowledged.
Leslie pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it, a rough sketch of the house she had drawn earlier, illuminating it with a penlight as Sandy and Josée crowded around her.
“As things stand now, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said and proceeded to explain her plan.
* * * *
As Cathy left the wall to move to the couch, she stumbled a little and raised her hands to her head.
“I’m a little dizzy,” she muttered, palming the Bluetooth device.
“Aww, you poor thing,” Butch replied before shoving her from behind, causing her to pitch forward onto the couch. “You shoulda minded your damned business and maybe you wouldn’t be so dizzy.”
9 More Killer Thrillers Page 134