Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (86 page)

Tara looked up and met Riley’s gaze. “What do you want me to
do?”

“Go downstairs. Tell your mom that Chase Bowden is in the
cellar, alone, and that he won’t hurt her, but that she has to let him out. He
can help you.”

She nodded slowly. “What’s going on, Sam?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, reached for his hat and
realized what he was doing. He didn’t want her to see the bullet hole in his forehead,
and brought his hand back down, empty.

“Your grandfather, Pierre, left a lot of money when he died. He
didn’t will it to anyone because… well, because it was illegally obtained. He
left the painting to reveal the location of the money.”

“That’s why all my relatives have been visiting, to look at the
painting?”

Riley nodded.

“Even Michelle?”

“I don’t know. I think Adam knew about the painting. I think he
was killed because of it.”

Tears formed in Tara’s eyes. She raised both hands to cover her
face and wept.

Riley wanted desperately to reach out to her, to touch her, to
put his arm around her shoulder and hold her. He sat motionless on the bed.

She rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her red shirt then looked
at the wet streak on it. “Do you know who killed him?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Okay. Let’s go downstairs.” She opened the door and looked back
at Riley.

“I can’t go with you.”

She stood in the doorway, staring down the hall.

Riley rose from the bed and walked over to her. “The entry is
behind the bookcase. Kay knows how to open it. If you need my help, just step
out of the office. I’m sorry Tara, but I can only give you advice.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, then stepped hesitantly into
the hallway, leaving the door to her room open. Riley followed her to the top
of the stairs and watched until she reached the office door. She glanced back
at him, and he gave her a reassuring nod. Taking a deep breath, she entered the
office.

Riley ran down the stairs and slipped into the wall by the
office door. He arrived as Tara placed her hands on Kay’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

“Nothing.”

“You never sit in the office.”

“I… Why don’t you go to the mall or Gilman Village or
something?”

“I can’t. I need you to do something for me.”

Kay turned in the chair so she could look at Tara. “What is it?”

“I need you to open the cellar and let Chase Bowden out.”

Kay’s mouth fell open and her brown eyes widened considerably.
“How do you know about the cellar?”

“From when I was a little girl.”

“How do you know that Bowden is in there? Who is he with?”

“No one, Mom. He’s there alone. Open it up and let him out. He’s
here to help us, not hurt us.”

“He’s here to help Vincent,” Kay grumbled bitterly. “Vincent
doesn’t need the money, we do. When your grandpa left us the house, we had no
idea what the taxes on the property would be. It’s fifteen percent of our
income, Tara. Fifteen percent! We need that money more than Vincent does.”

“Mom, let Mr. Bowden out.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

Kay rose to her feet, and dropped the knife on the desk. “I wish
Barry were here.” She turned and looked at Tara. “Maybe we should wait.”

Tara shook her head. “We can handle this ourselves. We don’t
need to wait for Barry.”

“You don’t need to wait for Barry,” an angry voice roared from the
office door, “because I’m already back!”

Tara spun around and stared at her dad.

Barry filled the doorframe. A big gun hung in his right hand and
his face burned bright red.

11

Barry raised the big blue revolver and pointed it at Tara. “Sit
down,” he growled.

“Dad, I…”

“Sit!”

Tara sat in the chair that her mother had just vacated.

Riley pulled his gun out and looked at it, sadly shaking his
head. Other than a bluff, the gun was worthless. He’d proven it to Bowden just
the other day.

Barry waved the heavy Colt Python at Tara. “You don’t know
what’s going on here. I kept you out of it on purpose, so don’t go shoving your
nose in a crack where it don’t belong.”

Tara glanced up at her mom.

Kay held both hands in front of her, ringing them like a wet towel.
“Barry. Tara knows that Chase Bowden is in the old bomb shelter. She even knows
it’s behind the bookcase. I think we should fill her in on what’s going on.”

“You would. She’s your daughter!” Barry spat out the last word
like it was a disease.

Tara slid forward in the chair. “Dad, I…”

“Shut up! I’m not your dad.”

Kay screamed, “Barry!”

“Well, I’m not!”

Riley watched Tara closely. He had known this, of course, but
had never mentioned it to the little girl he had known for so many years.

The blood rushed from Tara’s face. She sank back in the chair.
“Mom?”

Kay knelt next to the chair, dropping her head into Tara’s lap.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she wailed, her voice muffled against Tara’s thighs.

“Mom, what is he talking about?”

Kay cried and shook her head, keeping her face down and
clutching Tara around the waist.

“Kay was screwing around when we got married. I didn’t realize
it until she got pregnant, but that was undeniable proof.”

Tears slid from Tara’s eyes as she held her mother’s head in her
lap. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sterile!” Berry snarled.

Tara tried to lift Kay’s head, but her mother only buried it
further into her lap and wailed louder, her back shaking as she cried
uncontrollably.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tara asked.

“It’s not about you,” Barry yelled. “She loved you, and I tried.
But now you’re out of it!” Barry aimed the gun at Tara’s head and stepped in
closer.

Tara tightened instinctively.

Riley stepped into the room holding his gun at his waist. Barry
was losing it. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Barry spat foamy saliva as he continued. “Pierre left a buried
treasure that is unfathomable, and I’m not sharing it with an illegitimate
bitch that won’t get out of my miserable life.”

Riley took two steps into the room. It was dark out now, but the
light in the room made him look deathly white. The dull gray of his coat and
fedora seemed to suck the color from his skin. Tara saw Riley out of the corner
of her eye, and turned to look at him.

“Drop the gun!” Riley ordered.

Barry spun around, his finger tightening on the trigger as he
searched for his target. The gun bellowed and the .357 jumped in his chubby
hand, broke free of the loose grip and fell to the floor.

The slug punched a hole in the wall about seven feet from Riley.
He glanced over at it as powdered sheetrock floated in the air and gradually
settled onto the beige carpet.

Riley stared at Barry, holding his gun on the terrorized man. “I
can’t believe you did that.”

Riley stepped forward, and Barry backpedaled frantically. His
foot hit Kay’s legs and he stumbled over them, landing on his back. He pushed
himself up and kicked desperately, trying to free himself. He ended up with his
back pressed against the desk, his eyes and mouth wide open.

Riley stopped near the .357. “Tara, pick up the gun.”

Tara gently pushed Kay off her lap and picked up the gun by
Riley’s feet. She shook uncontrollably. “I can’t use it,” she whispered,
rubbing tears from her eyes.

“Just hold it until Bowden’s freed,” Riley told her. He pointed
his gun at Barry. “Now, you get up and open the cellar.”

Barry swallowed and clambered to his feet as sweat beaded on his
forehead. He wobbled to the bookcase, using the wall for support. It only took
him a couple of seconds to pull out the two shelves and swing the case open.

“Now remove the board and lay it by the wall,” Riley commanded.

Barry followed the directions and stepped back.

Riley shook his head. “You’re not done yet. Open the steel
door.”

Barry glanced at Riley. “I might get shot.”

“At least there’s a chance that you won’t,” Riley said, leveling
the gun at Barry’s head.

Barry bent over the door and heaved. He propped it against the
wall and stepped back. Nothing happened.

Riley called down to
Bowden. “Chase, come on out. I’ve got things under control up here.”

Bowden poked his head cautiously out of the hole, his gun
clearing the floor at the same time as his head. He quickly scanned the scene, then
he bounded up the last few steps and into the room. He snatched the .357 that
dangled from Tara’s fingers, and held both guns in his hands.

He backed away, giving himself some room. Tara stood motionless,
gazing at the space behind the bookcase. Barry stood next to Kay’s prostrate
body as she sobbed loudly.

“Okay. This is better,” Chase said, coming down off the adrenaline
rush that had hit him when the door opened. “So, what happened?” He looked at
the white ghost standing next to him.

Riley slid his gun into its holster. “Barry and Kay shut you in.
I think Kay is just following Barry’s lead. Tara didn’t know about the cellar
or that they hid the painting. Barry was ready to kill her.”

Barry fat head snapped up. “Now wait a minute. I never would
have done that. I just wanted some cooperation.”

Riley stepped forward, the gray coat swirling around his legs.
“I should slaughter you like a pig.”

Barry backed away, bumping up against the desk, and Kay
screamed.

“You’re scaring them,” Bowden explained to Riley.

“So what? He was ready to shoot Tara.”

Chase pushed the Glock into his shoulder holster. “I heard a
shot.”

Riley jerked his thumb at Barry. “The prick took a shot at me.”

That made Bowden smile. “That seems to be popular.”

“Funny.”

Chase flipped the cylinder open and checked the cartridges. The
.357 had five rounds left. He snapped it shut with a flick of his wrist.

“Any ideas on who killed Adam?” Everyone looked at him when he
asked the question.

Riley pointed at Barry. “He’s my first choice, but I don’t have
hard proof.”

Barry slid his fingers around the solid handle of the kitchen
knife that Kay had laid on the desk. He gripped it tightly and shoved himself
away from the desk and right at Bowden.

The long, steel blade flashed as Barry raised it over his head.

“No!” Tara screamed as she dove at him.

Bowden reacted instinctively. Without aiming, he pointed the
Colt and pulled the trigger. The explosion of gunpowder was deafening. Blue
smoke and flame belched from the barrel and the heavy slug smashed into Barry’s
chest just before Tara reached him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Barry took another step forward, the knife blade cutting down in
a long arch as he stretched out. Tara’s weight drug him down.

As the knife reached him, Bowden swept the blade aside with his
left arm, feeling the steel edge slice through his bicep. He brought the gun
down as Barry fell against him, smashing the barrel on the back of Barry’s
head. It connected with a hollow sound, like someone striking a melon, and all
three fell in a pile.

Chase pushed at the heavy weight trapping his legs as Tara
rolled free. He pulled his knees up and shoved his foot into Barry’s
midsection. It squished into the soft belly, sinking several inches before
striking a harder surface, and he could push the heavy man off him.

The man rolled free, his left arm swinging wide, his right arm
trapped beneath his body.

Chase rolled onto his knees and looked down at Barry’s white
face. The eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling. He recognized that
look. The life behind the eyes was gone and they more closely resembled
marbles. Barry Miller was dead.

Kay screamed and crawled across the floor to collapse beside
Barry. She dropped her head onto his stomach and wailed loudly.

Bowden looked at the knife hanging loosely from his arm. The
blade had penetrated about two inches into his bicep, just missing the bone. He
stuffed the revolver into his waistband then gently gripped the knife. It slid
easily under his guidance. He dropped it onto the floor and slid his coat off
as the wound started to hurt.

He bit his lip and gripped the sleeve that covered his injured
left arm, and pulled. The seams gave near the shoulder. He gripped it a little
lower and gave another tug. It was almost off and he reached over the shoulder
and gave one last tug. The sleeve slid down his arm and off his hand. He looked
at the gaping wound. Blood rolled over his arm and dripped onto the floor.

He clinched his fist and curled his arm, checking his range of
motion. Everything seemed to be working. He folded the sleeve into a square,
pressed it against the wound, then took a second to look around.

Tara sat on the floor staring at her mother and father. Her face
was white and her eyes wide. Two tiny droplets of blood dotted her cheek. She
reached up with the back of her hand and wiped her face, causing the droplets
to become thin red lines.

Kay stopped wailing, but continued to cry over Barry. She hadn’t
looked up yet.

“Now what?” Riley asked, rocking uneasily onto one foot.

Chase sucked in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out
slowly. “I guess I’ll call Detective Cooper.”

He looked at the phone, then down at his hand. He wondered how
he could dial without bleeding all over the place. He needed something to tie
the compress into place.

“Tara?”

She looked slowly away from her parents.

“Can you find some way to tie this on?”

She stared at him for a second and then nodded once. He figured
she was still in shock.

She struggled to her feet, using the wall for support. Once she
was standing she took a couple of deep breaths and staggered from the room.

He stood up and stepped behind Kay. “I’m sorry,” he said to her.

She didn’t acknowledge him and he sat on the edge of the desk.

A moment later Tara came in with a handful of gauze and a roll
of tape. She tore several strips of tape off the roll and hung them from the
edge of the desk.

“Sorry about…” He paused as he thought about the best way to put
it. Nothing came to his mind and he finished by saying, “…Barry.”

Tara folded the gauze in silence. She lifted his hand away from
his arm, ripping the bloodied compress out of his hand and discarding it on the
floor. She slapped the new compress over the wound and plastered it down with
the tape.

Bowden gritted his teeth under the rough treatment but refused
to say anything. Tara stepped away when she finished, and he picked up the
phone.

It rang once on the other end before Cooper answered. “Detective
Cooper.”

“It’s Chase Bowden.”

“What are you, psychic? They just dropped the AFIS return on my
desk. You were right. The prints came back to Adam Fonck.”

Bowden bit his lower lip. The information was useless.

Cooper broke the silence. “You can say ‘thank you’, but don’t
say ‘I told you so.’”

Bowden nodded thoughtfully, completely aware that Cooper
couldn’t see him. “Look, um, I called to tell you that Barry is dead.”

“Barry…?”

“Barry Miller. Adam’s uncle.”

“Suicide?”

“No. Look, um, just come out to the house.”

There was a long pause before Cooper spoke. “Should I bring
anybody? The M.E.?”

“Not yet. Bring a couple of patrol units to contain the scene.
Maybe take statements.”

“All right. I’ll be there in thirty.”

Bowden hung up the phone. “We need to secure the room, now.
Tara, will you take your mother into the living room?”

Tara knelt beside Kay and gently lifted her away from Barry’s
body. Kay turned her head away and meekly allowed her daughter to lead her out.

 Looking over at Riley, Chase pointed towards the door that
the two women had just walked through. “Yell if they come back in.”

Riley nodded and Bowden ran down into the cellar. He turned the
penlight on to help him find his way to the painting and then carried it back
to the office. He closed the steel door and the bookcase, then checked the
hallway. Both women were out of sight, so he carried the painting up to
Flavio’s bedroom. He slid the painting into the closet and draped a sport coat
over it, then went down to the living room.