The Ultimate Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Bestsellers)

by Perkins, Cathy

  “His voice was different, older. He was heavier and… and… he smelled like oil; like maybe a mechanic.”

  “Okay. But not Bill? You’re sure Bill didn’t touch you?”

  Michelle shook her head. “I don’t know. It happened so many times.”

  She burst into tears and turned back to Tara. Bowden knew the conversation was over. He glanced at Tara and saw tears on the older girl’s cheeks. Bowden pulled at his chin and looked over at Cooper.

  “Do you want to call SAU?”

  Cooper nodded, his eyes locked on the floor.

  “Maybe you should have a talk with that deputy…”

  “Zill.”

  “About taping off the crime scene.”

  Cooper nodded as Bowden walked past him. When Bowden reached the patrol car, Zill stepped out and shut the door.

  “Cooper wants to see you inside. Take some tape if you have it.”

  Zill opened the trunk and walked into the hotel. Bowden watched him until he was out of sight, and then he bent down and tore a piece of the curtain free and used it to pick up a piece of glass. He opened the back door and looked in at Bill.

  “I need some answers and we’ve only got a couple minutes.” Bowden held the piece of glass up for Bill to see.

  “What’s that for?” Bill asked. Sweat formed at the hairline on his forehead.

  “You already have several cuts from diving through the window. They are minor, and we didn’t call the paramedics because we missed some of the more major ones.” Bowden turned the shard of glass so that Bill could see the sharp point on it. “Puncture wounds are hard to evaluate at the scene.”

  “You can’t touch me,” Bill said smugly, a wide grin spreading over his face.

  Bowden smiled back. “I’m not a cop.”

  He drove his left fist into the taunting smile. Bill’s head snapped back from the impact and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

  He saw the light in Bill’s eyes dim and knew that he had won.

  Bill spoke hesitantly. “What, uh, do you want to know?”

  “Did you touch that girl?”

  “No. Honest.” Bill shook his head vigorously.

  “You want me to believe that you just sat and watched?”

  “No. I… Kent would send me out for food. He’d tell me to take my time. At least thirty minutes, sometimes an hour.”

  “Was Doug Sanderson with him?”

  “I never saw Doug.”

  He lifted Bill’s t-shirt and exposed his soft, white side. He stuck the sharp pointed of the glass into the skin, and Bill squealed.

  “I swear! I swear! I never saw Doug. If he came in, it was after I left.”

  He turned the glass shard ninety degrees and it ripped open the skin. A drop of blood formed around the point. He pressed slightly and the droplet grew until it was heavy enough to break free and run down Bill’s side. The waistband of his underwear soaked up the blood.

  “Who killed Adam?”

  “Kent! It was Kent!”

  “Last question. How is Doug involved?”

  “He isn’t.”

  “He paid for your room.”

  Bill was silent for several seconds. Bowden could see that Bill was going to say something else, so he waited.

  “Maybe Kent stole his credit card. Doug’s not involved.”

  Bill’s gaze dropped down and to the right, so that Bowden knew he was lying. It answered his question just as well as if Bill had told the truth. Doug was involved in some way.

  He released Bill’s t-shirt and it soaked up the blood that had been trickling down his side. He dropped the piece of glass and the torn scrap of the curtain back onto the pile as he shut the door of the patrol car.

  He leaned against the door and thought about what he had learned in the last few minutes. From where he was, he could see Tara still sitting on the edge of the bed and holding Michelle. It made his stomach turn as he thought about what had been going on in that room, the girl being raped by her cousin and her uncle. He shook his head and sighed. He wasn’t use to these kinds of cases. He’d hunt terrorists and spies any day.

  He took a step closer to the window and realized that it wasn’t the type of case that bothered him, it was seeing the victims. In his cases with the CIA, the government was the victim. Now he was dealing with individuals. He realized that it was Michelle’s pain and Tara’s pain that he sympathized with. It made him uncomfortable to the point of feeling sick.

  Deputy Zill walked around the corner of the hotel and up to his car. He glanced into the back seat and saw the blood on Bill’s face and on the white shirt. He looked over at Bowden and nodded once before sliding into the front seat.

  Bowden walked slowly back to room 153. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and closed them tightly. When he opened them it took a second for his eyes to focus. He felt tired. The adrenaline dump hadn’t lasted long and a heavy weariness closed over him, fogging his mind. He hated the feeling and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

  Cooper held up the yellow tape and Bowden stepped underneath it. “SAU will be out in about twenty minutes.”

  He nodded and walked into the room. He looked at the two girls sitting on the bed and knew what Michelle would have to go through when the detectives from the Sexual Assault Unit arrived. They tried to help the victim but more often than not, the victim felt violated again as the evidence was collected. Swabs were inserted into various body cavities to collect semen samples and the pubic hair was combed and cut for more samples. The questioning was intense and detailed.

  He sighed. He felt sorry for Michelle, for what she had been through and what she was about to go through. He wanted to sit on the bed beside her and hold her like Tara was doing. He wanted to offer his support. He knew he couldn’t do either.

  He needed to preserve the scene, so he couldn’t sit on the bed and he couldn’t hold Michelle because he was a male. Michelle had flinched at his touch when he first questioned her. It was what made him realize what had happened.

  He found a chair and sat across from the girls and hoped that he could help Michelle by preparing her for what was about to happen. She stared at him blankly as he explained the process that would be used to collect evidence. Her eyes shifted slightly as she looked from him to the door as four members from the Sexual Assault Unit walked in. One of them was carrying a camera. They kicked out Bowden and Tara and closed the door.

  17

  Tara stood in the hallway shaking. It wasn’t cold there and Bowden knew that Tara was reacting to what she had just seen. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She shook hard for a bit, then as they eased in intensity, Tara wrapped her arms around him.

  He kissed the top of Tara’s head and she responded with a squeeze. He held her for several seconds as the police walked around them, going from room to room and interviewing possible witnesses. An empty couch stood in the lobby, and he led Tara over to it. He sat down with her, his elbows on his knees, hanging his head between them. He closed his eyes and fought off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Great. How are you holding up?” he asked her.

  “Okay, I guess.” Tara put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for all the help.”

  He nodded, enjoying the comforting weight of her small hand. “We’ve got to make a couple of decisions here. When you think about what you want to do, remember that Kent is still around, and that he’s the one who killed Adam.”

  “I don’t know Kent very well. Actually, I only met him a couple of times and I was fairly young.”

  “Okay. We haven’t heard anything about your mom. Call the hospital and see how she’s doing.”

  He held his cell phone out and Tara called the hospital. She spent more time on hold than she did speaking to the nurse.

  “No change,” she said as she hung up the phone. “She’s still unconscious.” Ta
ra rubbed her face with her palm. “They said she could be unconscious for three days before they would start to worry.”

  “I don’t mean to sound callous but I’ve got to find out how you feel about some things.” He glanced over at Tara and saw her back straighten a little. “Michelle will be with the police for the better part of the day. Do you want to get a boat now? Do you want to go tomorrow? If we go tomorrow, where would Michelle stay? Remember about Kent. Or do you want me to get one on my own? Nothing says that you have to come with me.”

  Tara laughed but it sounded awkward to Bowden, like it was forced. “Wow. What do you think?”

  “I’ve always been trained to push ahead. I would recommend getting a boat right now.”

  Tara looked over at the room where Michelle was. “I want to know what’s going on with her first. I don’t want to make a decision yet.”

  Bowden stood up, then waited for the pain to dull his senses before he started walking. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt. All the painkillers had worn off by now. He wished he could have some more.

  He stopped near the tape, and Cooper walked over to him. “Tara wants to talk to Michelle.”

  “She’s going to be tied up for hours.”

  “Yeah, I…” He shook his head as Cooper’s last statement completely registered. He glanced up sharply.

  “What? I… oh. Sorry. Bad choice of words.”

  “I think the main concern is Michelle’s welfare after this is all over. Where is she going to stay? Who’s going to look after her?”

  “I thought Tara would be doing that.”

  “You still got a killer out there, and he’s after their inheritance.”

  Cooper looked at him. “Won’t you be with the girls?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got something else to do. Tara was thinking of coming with me. That still leaves the safety of Michelle to consider.”

  “For how long?”

  “Late tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning.”

  Cooper scratched his head. “You look like hell, you know?”

  “What about Michelle?”

  “Hold on a second.”

  Cooper walked over to the door and tapped gently on it. A moment later the door was opened a few inches and Cooper spoke to someone. Bowden looked back at Tara who gave him an encouraging smile. He tried to smile back, but was too tired. When he looked back at the door, Cooper had already started towards him.

  “They’ll let Tara come in and talk to her in about forty-five minutes; maybe an hour. I guess they will also discuss safety and comfort issues with them at that time.”

  “All right. We’ll wait for that.”

  He motioned for Tara to join him at the front desk. She walked up to the counter as he asked for a room.

  “We need a place to wait for about an hour until the police are ready to talk to us,” he explained to the clerk.

  She swiped a card and punched a couple keys on the computer. “Room one-forty-seven. If you leave when the police do, I won’t charge you for it.”

  He smiled. “That’s very fair. Thank you.”

  Tara followed Bowden along the crime scene tape to room 147. The officers had actually used the lever on that door to tie off the tape. Cooper saw them, and nodded when Bowden pointed inside.

  He stumbled across the floor, pausing only a second to take his shoes off. He collapsed on the bed and the two guns tucked into his waistband jabbed him in the belly. He dug them out and shoved them beneath the pillow, then closed his aching eyes. He heard Tara close the bathroom door.

  He felt someone’s hand on his ankle, gently shaking his leg. As he opened his eyes, he saw Tara standing beside him. He must have fallen asleep while she was in the bathroom.

  “Um, just rest a while,” he said as he squinted against the light. “Cooper will knock when they’re ready for you.”

  Tara smiled. “I already talked to them.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ve been asleep two hours.”

  Bowden looked at his watch and saw that it was almost eleven. “Oh.”

  He sat up and held his head as his brain swam around inside his skull. Feeling like he had been drugged, he placed both feet firmly on the floor before standing.

  “Give me a second,” he said as he staggered into the bathroom.

  He shut the door behind him and looked in the mirror. He had dark circles under his eyes and the skin hung lifelessly on his face. He looked worse than Riley in low light.

  Turning on the cold water, he cupped his hands in the flow. He splashed the water on his face and gasped under the shock. He rubbed vigorously and repeated the process two more times, then ran his wet fingers through his hair and tried to get the flattened side to stand up.

  “Oh well, you’re alive,” he muttered to himself.

  He turned off the water and walked back into the room where Tara was waiting. “Did they help you out any?” he asked her.

  “Some. Um, they’re going to take Michelle to Harborview and keep her overnight. They said she was severely dehydrated. They want to keep her under observation and make sure she gets the fluids back into her body. I guess they also have councilors there she can talk to. I can pick her up in the morning.”

  He realized that it freed them up to go after the treasure. He wondered if Cooper had something to do with the set-up and decided that he probably did.

  18

  Bowden sat in the passenger’s seat and let Tara drive while he made some phone calls. One was to Vincent Fonck to let him know that progress was being made. He didn’t tell him that the painting had been found or that his sons had been implicated in a murder.

  Another call to the Everett Marina chartered him a boat for the day. The owner arranged to meet them at the office, so that he could get them through the security gates and onto the docks.

  Tara parked the car, and they climbed out. She met him near the trunk and took his hand. “I’m so excited,” she gasped.

  He smiled. “A modern day treasure hunt.”

  “I wonder what it’s going to be?” Tara asked.

  “Don’t expect too much.”

  He opened the glass door to the office. A woman in her sixties was sitting behind the counter reading a two-inch thick novel. A man seated to the right of the door stood up and hesitated.

  Bowden looked at him and smiled. “Mr. Keller?”

  The man smiled back and extended his hand. “Yes, and your name again? I’m bad with names.”

  “Call me Chase. This is Tara.”

  “Good. Good. Call me Walt, okay? What do you want to do?”

  Bowden opened the chart and handed it to Walt. “We want you to take us there,” he said, pointing at the spot charted on the map.

  Walt looked at it and ran his hands through his short gray hair. “That’s a long way. We won’t get back until late.”

  “I just want to get there before dark,” Chase explained. “If that’s possible. I don’t care when we get back.”

  Walt glanced at his watch. “Oh yeah. Yeah, that’s possible.” He pulled at the shaggy gray beard hanging off his chin. “Why would you want to go out there? Fishing season’s over.”

  Bowden put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s just say that we like the view.”

  Walt looked into his eyes and squinted. “Wouldn’t be anything illegal would it? Not meeting up with a boat from Canada loaded with BC bud, or anything? I won’t do that.”

  “No. Nothing like that at all.”

  “Okay. Martha will make a copy of your driver’s licenses and then we can go.”

  Bowden gave Walt a look that said, “What do you need that for?”

  “Safety precautions. You know? Standard practice. If the ship goes down they want to know how many bodies to look for, and who died.” Walt grinned and looked over at Tara. “Don’t worry. I’ve not lost anyone off one of my boats in over forty years of sailing and the Melancholy is a real beauty. Safe too.”

  “How many people did you
lose prior to the last forty years?” Bowden asked.

  Walt grinned and winked. “I still need licenses.”

  Martha ran off a copy of each and handed them back. Bowden and Tara then followed Walt out onto the docks and down to the slip where the Melancholy was tied up.

  Walt took a deep breath and let it out. He shook his head. “Would you look at her? Tell me you haven’t seen a more beautiful girl in all your life.”

  Bowden looked at the thirty-two foot long fishing vessel and the dull, off-white paint that in spots had a greenish hue. Everything on board was buttoned up tightly.

  “True. But I think I’m standing next to a girl more beautiful than the Melancholy.”

  “Eh?” Walt turned around and looked at Tara. “Yeah, huh… you got a point.” Walt nodded his head.

  Tara glanced down at the dock, looking suddenly shy.

  “Let me get the canvass off and you two can go into the cabin. The forecast is for rain today.”

  Walt prepared the boat for departure as Bowden and Tara settled into the cabin. A small table was folded up against one side, where two benches faced each other. The back of one of the benches was butted up against the counter, which boasted a stove and small convection oven. A three-foot tall refrigerator was built into a cabinet that ran all the way up to the ceiling.

  Two steps led down to a bed that was in the bow. On the side of the steps was a shower. The stall was only big enough to stand in. He wondered how someone could scrub without hitting the walls.

  Walt came in and turned on the engines, letting them idle while he unplugged the electrical cord from the dock and untied the lines. He jumped back onto the boat and climbed into the captain’s chair, put the boat into reverse, and looked out the back.

  “What the… what are you doing on my boat?”

  Bowden turned around to see what Walt was yelling about. He expected to see a seagull or rodent of some kind. He saw Kent Fonck standing at the cabin door with a gun in his hand.

  His stomach turned over.

  Kent smiled and stepped inside. He closed the door behind him. “You’re drifting,” he told Walt as the boat bumped against the dock.

  Walt didn’t move.