Murder Blog Mysteries Boxed Collection

by Pamela Frost Dennis

  She gazed at me with a cold smile that scared me more than the gun. “What do ya hear, Tyler?”

  He cupped his ear. “Motorcycles gunning their engines and loud music. Allman Brothers, I think. Classic.”

  “So ya really think anyone’s gonna hear one little gun pop?” asked Erin. “Seriously?”

  “I can get a pillow to help muffle the shot,” said Tyler.

  “It’s up to Katy,” said Erin. “You got ten seconds to decide, Katy, and then it’s goodbye big toe.”

  She racked the gun like a pro. The ratchet sound made my bladder instantly release the three cups of coffee I drank at breakfast.

  “One. Two.”

  I’ve always said that if someone pointed a gun in my face and said, Give me your purse, I would. I’m not about to give up my life for money. Of course, there’s never more than fifty bucks in my purse, and it’s usually more like three or four. Now I had a gun pointing at my foot, demanding I hand over millions.

  “Five. Six.”

  If she pulled the trigger, I would immediately tell her where the money was hidden. There was no point in losing a toe for nothing.

  “Eight. Nine.”

  “All right,” I shouted. “You win. If I tell you where I hid it, will you leave?”

  Erin crossed her heart with the gun. “Scout’s honor. All we want is the money, and as soon as we have it, we’re out of here, and you’ll still be able to wear cute sandals. I’ll even leave you some cash to get a pedicure, ’cause, girl, you need one. Bad.”

  I closed my eyes and murmured, “The money’s in the garden shed. You’ll find it inside a big cardboard box.”

  Tyler started for the French doors facing the backyard. “Come on, Erin. Let’s go get it.”

  Yes! Go! As soon as you’re outside, I’m out of here.

  Erin glanced at me, reading my thoughts again. “You really think we’re going to leave you alone so you can call the cops? Get up and show us.” She waved the gun in the direction of the doors.

  I stood, leaving a wet stain on the couch.

  Tyler pointed at the spot, laughing. “Looks like we really pissed you off.”

  Back in the kitchen, Erin ordered me to sit at the table while Tyler unloaded the heavy safes from the hand-truck onto the floor. I remember how disconnected my thoughts were: Still gotta return that hand-truck to Pop. I hope Tyler doesn’t dent the floor. Looking back on it, I think I must have been in shock.

  “Where’s the keys?” asked Tyler.

  “Good question.” Erin held out her hand, snapping her fingers. “Keys, please.”

  “They’re in the gadget drawer, left side of the sink,” I said.

  She opened the drawer and snickered at the jumbled mess. “Seriously, Katy? I’m supposed to believe you put the keys to the Kingdom in a junk drawer?”

  “Yes.”

  I guess my defeated tone convinced her because she began rummaging. In a few seconds, she pulled out a little metal ring with one key on it, waving it triumphantly. “Aha! Got it.”

  “That’s not it. And it’s two keys. I’ll find it.” I reached to the back of the drawer and felt my fingers connect with my red rhinestone heart keychain—a girlhood gift from Ruby. “Here.”

  Erin snatched the keys and sent me back to the table. Tabitha curled through my legs, then jumped into my lap, nuzzling me. The hair along her back was raised as if she understood we were in serious trouble. “It’s okay, baby.” I stroked her, trying to reassure both of us.

  “Prepare to be amazed, Tyler.” Erin simultaneously lifted the lids on each safe.

  “Holy shit. Babe, you weren’t kidding.” He unzipped a plastic bag and dumped a twenty-dollar coin into his hand. “Check it out. 1874. Looks like those coins they sell on TV.” He flipped it into the air and grabbed for it, missing the catch.

  “Tyler! Cut it out.” Erin snatched up the coin and set it back in the bag. “This coin is probably worth thousands, but not if it’s all dinged up, you bonehead.”

  “Sorry, babe.”

  “Let’s leave the money in the safes.” She squatted to lock them. “Would you put these in Katy’s closet, Tyler?”

  “For safe keeping, right, babe?” He leaned over Erin from behind and slid his hand inside the front of her robe.

  She swatted his hand away. “Not now. Go put the safes in her closet.”

  Tyler left the room carrying one of the safes. Erin sat down at the table, still aiming the damned gun in my direction. “Is there more gold in the house that you haven’t told me about?”

  “If there is, I didn’t find it, and believe me, I searched.”

  “I’d hate to find out later you were holding out on me.”

  “I’m not, Erin. You have it all.”

  “Oh, I have it all, all right. A crappy education. A crappy job—”

  “How is going to Bryn Mawr a crappy education? And you work at Google. Not exactly what I’d call a crappy job.”

  “Like I said before, everything I told you was a lie. I wanted to impress you. You want to know the real story? I got a bookkeeping certificate at a community college. I’m a fucking receptionist in a realtor’s office, and I rent a room in a dingy, low-rent house with four other losers.” She smacked the table making me jump. “You don’t need this money. Your life is great. You have this nice house,” she swept her hand through the air, “and a wonderful family. Great friends—I don’t have any friends.”

  I wonder why.

  “God, even your pets are nice.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “Me? I’ve got nothing.”

  Tyler returned to the kitchen and massaged Erin’s shoulders. “Hey, babe, you got me. For richer or poorer.”

  She groaned and grabbed a paper napkin to wipe her eyes.

  “What about your parents?” I asked.

  “They’re both dead.” Erin tossed the crumpled napkin on the table. “Tyler? Find some rope and tie her up.”

  “You got any rope?” he asked me.

  “No.” Oh God, if I’m tied up, I am so screwed. “Listen. Just take the money and go. It sounds like you need it more than me.”

  “What’s to stop you from calling the police?” Erin shook her head. “Sorry, Katy. I like you. I really do, and under different circumstances, we could’ve been friends. Too bad you told me about the money, huh?” She shrugged, and then snapped at Tyler, “Look for something to tie her up with.”

  He wound up strapping me to the chair with two long extension cords. Talk about déjà vu. Not too long ago, a woman who was completely bonkers tied me to that same damned chair.

  “Now don’t run off,” said Erin. “We’re going to look around for a while, just to make sure we haven’t missed anything, then we’ll be on our way.” She glanced at Tyler. “Katy found the gold in the attic, so let’s start up there.”

  Erin left the gun on the counter by the sink. The moment I heard their footsteps on the attic floor, I began working to loosen the cords.

  Precious minutes ticked by. My wrists were rubbed raw from the stiff cord digging into my skin, and sweat was trickling down my back. I heard footsteps on the stairs and froze.

  Then Tyler said, “We need to get rid of her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  COINS AND CADAVERS

  FRIDAY • FEBRUARY 20

  Posted by Katy McKenna

  Friday, February 13

  Part Two

  “Well, Katy. It looks like you were right,” said Erin. “About the attic, anyway. I saw where you pulled the wood off the studs. So, that leaves the rest of the house to explore. Ever since you showed me the coins, I’ve been reading online about hidden fortunes found in the walls of old houses. I’m betting this house has a few more secrets to reveal. By the way, from the looks of things up there, I don’t think your beepers or peppermint cotton balls have taken care of your rat problems. There’s poop all over the floor.”

  The staircase screeched as it fastened into the ceiling.

  “Tyler!” yell
ed Erin. “Why’d you close the attic? I told you we’re taking Katy up there.”

  “Oops. My bad,” he called from the hall.

  She saw the panicked look on my face and patted my shoulder. “Relax. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  “I heard what you said.”

  “That was Tyler. If you haven’t noticed by now, he’s kind of an idiot. I’m not going to kill my cousin. We’re family.”

  The steps were creaking their way down again, so I had to talk fast. “Why’d you invite me to dinner that night at Le Stella? At that time you didn’t know about the money.”

  She sat down facing me, knees close to mine. “You’re not going to believe this, but I was looking for a fresh start. I’ve always liked the Central Coast, and let me tell you, the Bay Area is not a great place to live when you’re broke.” She shrugged. “With you being a graphic artist, I thought I needed to impress you, so you wouldn’t think I’m a loser. That fancy car? It’s a rental. All my credit cards are maxed out.” She crossed her arms, with a chagrined expression. “When I met you I liked you right off and realized that just being me would have been good enough for you.”

  “That’s true.”

  She sighed. “And here’s the really pathetic part. You know the night you showed me the coins?”

  “Yeah.” How could I ever forget the dumbest thing I’ve ever done?

  “I had decided I was going to tell you the truth about me.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I even hoped you might ask me to live here. You know, be your roommate, since your sister had moved out. But then you showed me the coins, and that was a game changer, for sure.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Erin. I could share the money with you.”

  Tyler entered the kitchen, and Erin said, “It’s way too late for that, Katy. You know that.”

  “Too late for what?” asked Tyler.

  “Nothing,” said Erin, gazing at me.

  “The sad thing is, I would’ve,” I said. We locked eyes, and I could tell she believed me. And for a split second, I thought maybe she would let me go. Then she retrieved the gun from the counter.

  “Tyler, untie her.” She aimed the weapon in my direction.

  He unraveled the extension cord wrapped around my ankles. While he untied my hands, I glanced around for a weapon. I didn’t believe Erin would shoot me, especially after everything she said, but what about Tyler? He wanted me dead.

  The knife block by the stove! I’ll grab one and jam it in his stomach. He’ll never know what hit him. I steeled myself, ready to act.

  “Stand up, Katy,” said Erin.

  I stood. It was now or never.

  Erin jabbed my ribs with the gun. “Please don’t do anything stupid. I know I said we wouldn’t kill you, but I will if I have to. So don’t make me have to.”

  The cold resolve in her voice deflated my daring plan, and I decided compliance was my only hope of survival.

  “Tyler, bring the extension cords,” said Erin. “Katy, do you have any duct tape? I need to make sure no one can hear you screaming for help after we leave.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, please. Who doesn’t have duct tape?”

  “It’s either under the sink or in the bottom drawer on the right of the sink.”

  “Got it,” said Tyler. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Before you take me up there, I need to go to the bathroom. Please.” This was not a ruse to escape. That big airport breakfast was grinding in my gut and needed to be eliminated before I got sick.

  Erin ushered me to the hall bathroom. Before she left me to my business, she checked the high window over the tub. “No way you’re getting out through there.” She looked in the sink cabinet for anything that I might be able to use as a weapon and removed the toilet plunger. “Three minutes, Katy,” she said as she closed the door. “Then I’m coming in.”

  In the attic, they told me to lie down on the rough wood floor, and Tyler trussed me up again.

  “I can’t get this damned extension cord tight enough.” He gave the stiff, plastic cord a hard yank, and I yelped when it pinched my ankles. “Hand me the duct tape. That’ll work better.”

  Tyler removed the cord, tore off a long length of the gray tape, and wrapped it several times around my ankles. Then he shifted me onto my side and jerked my bare arms behind me.

  “You’re hurting me,” I cried.

  “Tyler. You don’t have to be so rough,” said Erin.

  “Sorry. It’s not like I do this sort of thing every day, you know.” He taped my wrists together.

  “Too tight,” I said.

  “Too bad,” he said.

  Erin tore off a short length of the duct tape and squatted beside me. “Close your mouth.” She set the tape in place, smoothing it against my skin. “Please know I don’t like doing this to you.” She stood and clasped Tyler’s hand. “After we are far away from here, I’ll call your parents and tell them you’re up here. So relax. No worries.”

  Thank God.

  She gazed at me lying bound like a rodeo calf. “You don’t deserve this, Katy.” She shook her head. “But I just can’t walk away from millions of dollars.”

  They stepped down the stairs. A moment later, as the stairway shut, Tyler said, “Are you really going to call her parents?”

  She snickered. “No. That’d be kinda dumb, don’t ya think? When her parents don’t hear from her, they’ll come looking. I read somewhere that you can go for three days without water, so she’ll be fine. And we’ll be long-gone in Costa Rica, living the life I’ve always dreamed of.”

  “It’s going to be at least five or six days before anyone starts looking for her, you know,” said Tyler.

  “Oh, well. That’s a bummer.”

  I lay on the attic floor for God knows how long, using the damned sonic beepers as a rhythmic mantra to soothe myself.

  Beep: Breathe in.

  Beep: Breathe out.

  Long, slow, cleansing breaths.

  The aroma of the peppermint cotton balls triggered soothing memories of Mom smearing Vicks VapoRub onto my chest whenever I had a bad cold.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  I hadn’t heard a peep from downstairs since Erin said they wouldn’t be calling my folks, so I assumed they were gone. Judging from the sunlight filtering through the four-paned, hexagonal windows, I figured it was around three p.m.

  My bladder was feeling the diuretic pressure of all the coffee I drank that day. I really hit a low point when I realized that I would have to urinate. I held it as long as I could, because I kept thinking about Josh rescuing me and my mortification when he saw my wet pants. Silly, I know, considering that I was probably going to die there.

  The motorcycles still rumbled across the street, which meant there had to be at least a few guys in the front yard. If I could get to the window, perhaps I could catch their attention.

  I was lying on my side, twelve to fourteen feet from the window. How could such a short distance look so far? So impossible?

  Maybe I can roll to the window.

  The first roll over onto my stomach was pretty easy but trying to get the momentum to turn to my back was a different story. I kept banging my chin and nose into the floor and wound up sniffing what I’m pretty sure was rat crap. Holding my chin high, I tipped over onto my back again and came to the conclusion that rolling was not the ticket. I was pretty sure my grazed chin was oozing blood, and I could feel poop pellets stuck to it. Probably will get blood poisoning and have to amputate my chin.

  That goofy thought actually gave me a little chuckle. Then it dawned on me that I could bend my knees and shove my body across the floor! Mental fist pump!

  Big mistake. My bare arms were tethered behind my back, and after one push, they felt like they were on fire.

  The throbbing pain gradually backed off, and I planned my next move. If I can pull myself to a sitting position, I can try to shimmy on my butt to the window.

  Sitting
up with your hands tied behind your back isn’t easy, especially when you haven’t done a sit-up in a while. A very long while. Like since high school P.E. class. My nonexistent stomach muscles strained mightily, but it wasn’t happening.

  Finally, I got the idea to roll over to my side with knees bent in a fetal position and curl my way up to a sitting position. It wasn’t easy, but I did it.

  I began the long trek to the window. Lift one butt cheek and wriggle forward. Lift the other side and wriggle forward. Repeat until mission accomplished. My leggings kept snagging on the wood floor. Sweat trickled down my forehead, stinging my eyes. Finally, I was peering out the window. To an empty street, devoid of all human life.

  I was disheartened to see Erin’s rented sports car still sitting in my driveway. The longer they hung around, the more chance they might change their mind and kill me. I decided to keep watching out the window, and if I saw anyone, I’d bang my head on the glass, even though it meant risking my captors hearing me.

  Four cars and a truck cruised down the street. Fred, the escape-artist old beagle that lives on the corner, strolled by, pausing to poop on my dead lawn.

  I heard a booming thud downstairs. And then another. And another, followed by a cracking-ripping sound. Another bang and the window glass rattled.

  Shit! They’re tearing down the walls. Why couldn’t they believe me? I went over the entire house with Pop’s metal detector. There’s no more damned gold.

  Erin shrieked in the hallway, and Tyler hooted. “Don’t be such a girlie-girl. It’s just an old dead rat.”

  “I don’t care. Get that thing out of my face,” she screamed. “It’s disgusting.”

  “Looks like it’s been dead for years,” said Tyler. “It’s practically a mummy.”

  “Katy said she had rats,” said Erin, now giggling.

  I said I had squirrels.

  “You know, we could knock out these walls a helluva lot faster if we had another sledgehammer. You’re not making much progress with that little hatchet,” said Tyler.