Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (92 page)

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.” Tara 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.

Kent twirled a finger in a circular motion. “Well, let’s go.
Nothing’s changed. You just got another passenger.”

Walt backed the Melancholy out of the slip and guided it out
past the breakwater before kicking it up to 24 knots. Bowden watched Kent the
whole time. Kent stood in the back smiling happily.

“The problem with cops containing a scene is that they don’t let
anybody in. Even the suspect. I had to wait outside. Then I saw you two
leaving. I didn’t know where you were going, but I couldn’t go back to the
hotel, so I followed. Then I started thinking that maybe you had figured out
that Grandpa’s boat was still docked here even though he sold it. So I was
waiting for you up above. Then this guy here,” he motioned to Walt with his
gun, “casts off. I had to climb the security fence up there and almost didn’t
make it. So, where are we going?”

“North,” Bowden answered.

“Hey, do you have my gun?”

Bowden stared at him as he thought about a way to give up Kent’s
gun and keep his own. “Yeah. I got it. Butt first, two fingers I presume?”

Kent grinned and nodded. “Sure. Why not.” Kent leveled his gun
on Bowden’s chest, his finger on the trigger. That made Chase nervous.

He hoped a wave or sudden swell wouldn’t unbalance the man and
cause him to accidentally squeeze off a round. Bowden pulled Kent’s gun from
his waistband, and held it out with two fingers. Kent stepped forward and took
the gun with his left hand.

He took a step back and stuffed the gun into his waistband,
sighed and shook his head. “I’m feeling better already. Now, let’s do it again
with your gun.”

“The cops took my gun,” Bowden answered. “I’d have shot you last
night in the house if I’d have had it.”

Kent laughed. “It must suck to be old. How’re you feeling?”

“Sore,” Bowden conceded.

“Well, let’s just assume that you still have your gun. It’s
safer for me that way, so just take it out with two fingers and hold it out to
your side.”

Bowden started to turn on the bench, so that he could get a
better view of Kent. If he was going to make a move, he would need a better
angle.

“Don’t turn around,” Kent warned him. “I’d rather look at your
back than your ugly face.”

Bowden stopped turning. “You’re assuming way too much.”

“Put your hands on the top of your head and step into the aisle.
Remember, I don’t want to see your face.”

Bowden clasped his hands behind his head and stepped into the
aisle, looking out the front of the boat.

Walt glanced over at him. “I thought you said there was nothing
illegal going on.”

“I can only speak for myself.”

“Shut up,” Kent barked as he ran his left hand up Bowden’s side.
“Where is it?”

Bowden realized that Kent was searching for his shoulder holster
and decided to try one more time. “The cops took it.”

Bowden felt Kent’s hand drop to the waistband and search the
side and back and then travel up under his right arm. He held his breath and
prayed that the gun would be overlooked by an inexperienced searcher.

Kent stepped back. “Okay. Turn around.”

Bowden turned to face him, dropping his hands in the process and
putting them on his hips.

Kent nodded. “Take your coat off.”

“What?”

“Take your coat off.”

Bowden unzipped his jacket. His right hand was only an inch from
the butt of his gun. He stared into Kent’s eyes, trying to get a read on the
killer’s preparedness. The bright excitement that showed in them caused Bowden
to be cautious. He opened his coat, which revealed the Glock.

Kent smiled, showing his teeth. “Ah, that’s what I thought. Put
your hands on top of your head again and turn around.”

Bowden did as he was told and Kent reached around him and took
the Glock. Lights exploded in Bowden’s head followed by instant blackness. He
woke up lying on the floor where he had fallen. He remained motionless and
listened to the hum of the engine and the conversation that went on above him.

“I said, leave him be!” Kent roared.

Tara shouted back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He was jerking me around. I had to show him who was boss. You
better remember it, too.”

“Just let me see if he’s all right.”

“I didn’t hit him that hard.”

“But you hit him with your gun.”

“He’s fine. Sit down.”

Bowden felt a wave move the boat sideways. He felt the bow rise
and fall. He felt like he was floating. He opened his eyes as he felt his
stomach turn over. The pounding in his head increased as he pushed himself into
a seated position and looked back at Kent.

“You don’t look too good,” Kent pointed out.

“I’m going to be sick.”

Kent stepped out of the way and Bowden staggered to the back of
the boat, feeling better as soon as he got out of the cabin and into the open
air. He fixed his eyes on the land and the seasickness faded from him. He
probed the back of his head with his fingers and felt the lump. He owed Kent
another one.

Bowden stood in the open air long after the nausea passed,
wanting to let the cold wind chill him and numb the feeling of failure. He
stuffed his hands inside his coat and wondered if he would have a chance to use
them on Kent. An opportunity could arise, so he prepared himself to fight. This
would be the last day of his life, if he didn’t find a way to overpower Kent.
He had to catch him off guard, and he had to hit him much harder than last
time.

His mind played back the fight in the house, blow by blow. He
shook his head as he realized that he had pounded on Kent with little effect.
He wouldn’t be able to defeat Kent with his hands.

There must be something around this boat he could use as a
weapon. A gaff hung on two hooks, tucked out of the way. He might be able to
use it. It was on the starboard side of the boat and about two feet off the
deck.

Kent opened the door and called to him. “Get back in here.”

Bowden stepped into the cabin, and sat on the bench.

“Walt says that we’re just about there,” Kent explained. “I want
to know what we’re looking for.”

“I’m not sure,” Bowden answered.

“Don’t give me that crap.”

“Really. I expect to see that cliff that Flavio painted but I
don’t know what else there might be.”

Kent looked out the window and then back at the chart. “So this
map takes us to where that cliff is?”

“I believe so.”

“And we’ll find it buried there?”

“That’s the theory.”

Kent smiled. “Hey, Walt.”

The old man glanced over at him.

“I’m going to be rich!” Kent laughed with his mouth open and the
sound almost drowned out the noise of the engines.