Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection

by Gordon Kessler

  The dogs jerked their heads in reaction.

  CHAPTER 20

  Parker took Nick home after the incident. Even after being assured what he had seen was just a piece of plastic and not a man-killing dog, his son still could not get over the shakes. Parker thought the best place for him would be in his own bed.

  “What happened?” Julie asked. Worry filled her eyes as she stood in the front doorway watching Tony carry her six-year-old son up the walk to the steps. “Is Nick all right?” She reached out to him

  “Yeah, he’s all right,” Parker said. “Nothing to be worried about. He just got a little scared, that’s all.”

  “Scared? Of what? Are you sure he’s not hurt?” she asked, holding the storm door back and stroking Nick’s forehead as they passed.

  Nick began crying uncontrollably and stretched out and latched onto his mother. “Mamma, Mamma, she’s going to eat me, and she’s gonna get Daddy, too!”

  “Oh sweetheart, nobody’s going to eat you,” she told him as she rubbed his back. “It’s all right.”

  Julie and Tony sat on the couch, staring at each other for a long moment, as Julie held Nick on her lap.

  Tony knew a lot was on Julie’s mind, but she held it back in consideration of her son’s trauma.

  “The kids were all out on the playground, and they thought they saw Jezebel in the park across the street,” Tony said. “It turned out to be a piece of black plastic.”

  Julie looked back at Tony skeptically. She rose from the couch and started up the stairs to Nick’s bedroom.

  “Nothing happened with me and Sarah,” Parker said to Julie’s back. “At least not what you think. I’d like to explain.”

  He watched them go up the stairs. Julie said nothing.

  Parker called his office to let them know he would be on call at home the rest of the day. He then went to the kitchen cabinets, pulled out a fifth of W. L. Weller’s and poured out half a glass over a handful of ice cubes. Drinking in the middle of the afternoon wasn’t a habit of his. In fact, the bottle hadn’t been touched since Jack and Sadie had been over for the evening three weeks ago. Parker needed something to calm his nerves. He knew the whiskey wouldn’t help, but it seemed like the thing to do. Nick’s shakes had been contagious, and Parker had caught a severe case himself. He felt chilled, yet feverish, again.

  Parker sat back in his easy chair and stared out the big picture window. This Jezebel thing was out of control. It was personal, now. The solution to this problem evaded him. All thirteen of his field officers worked double shifts, looking for this phantom of a hound. He was on call twenty-four hours and, except for tonight, would also be working double shifts. The police were on the watch for the beast, and every citizen in town, in the state, seemed to be aware of her. He could do nothing but wait. She would turn up soon. She had to.

  This thing with Sarah had to be dealt with, too. He didn’t look forward to explaining it to Julie. This time, he wouldn’t lie. The truth about this fix he was in had to come out—for Julie—for himself. He wondered how she would react to any explanation, let alone the vague, confused one he had—if she’d even listen.

  Parker’s stomach churned. His head began to throb. This little flu bug sure didn’t help any, if that was what it was. Maybe he should take some medicine. No, that wouldn’t mix with the alcohol.

  Parker sat, staring at nothing for the better part of half an hour before Julie came back down the stairs. She walked over to Tony’s chair, sat down on the arm and gazed into his eyes, like she had many times before when she was worried or puzzled and looked to Tony for the answer. He saw her look at the drink in his hand, now empty except for a teaspoon of tainted water in the bottom.

  “How’s Nick?” Tony asked, turning his head away.

  “I think he’s all right, now. He’s asleep. Now, tell me, what’s going on?” she asked, taking the glass from his hand and setting it on the lamp stand nearby.

  “It’s pure paranoia,” he answered. “The whole town is caught up in it. All because of that damned Haskins!” He knew the name Haskins had stuck a dagger in both of their hearts as soon as he spat it out. “Everyone is afraid of a dog that is probably lying dead somewhere by now.”

  “Why do you think she’s dead?”

  “That’s the only way a dog like that could get by, loose, in this city without being discovered. If she has rabies, she’s probably dead.”

  Tony’s assumption had not convinced Julie, or himself. He got up from the chair and walked over to the window, still looking away.

  “I’m working double shifts until this is over. That includes this weekend,” he said.

  “Surely, it will be over by the weekend, won’t it? We promised Mom and Dad we’d come up. They were counting on it. We haven’t seen them for a long time.” Her voice lacked emotion. He was surprised she still planned on them going together after this morning.

  “I don’t know if it will or not.”

  “Well, if it isn’t, we’ll go anyway. You need a break. We need a break.”

  “No, I can’t. This is my job. It’s what I get paid for. When something like this comes up, I can’t just leave.”

  “That’s bullshit, Tony, and you know it! You’re going to quit in a few months, anyway. Is it because you want to stay here—or because you just don’t want to see Dad?”

  The pause in her question consciously left out two words: with Sarah.

  “Get real, will you? I’ve got a job to do, and I’m going to do it. Besides, your dad would probably rather go fishing with Haskins.”

  Tony didn’t apologize this time, but he wished he could. He turned to see Julie’s backside leave the room for the kitchen. He could hear Julie open a cabinet and then turn on the faucet, pouring herself a glass of tap water.

  It surprised him she hadn’t said anything about Sarah. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had thrown him out, knowing what she had seen. He knew that when she did let her feelings out there would be one hell of a confrontation. It could mean losing his family. Divorce. Maybe that was why she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she knew a divorce was inevitable when she said her piece—that she wanted to hold on for as long as she could, hoping she’d discover some other explanation for what she saw but was afraid to learn the truth. Tony hoped, somehow, she could hold on forever.

  “Oh, I’ll be home tonight, so you can go to your aerobics class,” he said loud enough for her to hear in the next room. Julie had been teaching the evening aerobics class three nights a week at a health club downtown over the summer. Tonight was the last night—a makeup night for when Julie had been down with a bad cold and no one was able to sub for her.

  “I’m not going, not with Nick like this.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You said he’s all right. I’ll be here.”

  “For some reason, that doesn’t assure me very much,” Julie sneered as she walked back through the room and up the stairs toward the children’s rooms.

  Tony felt a hot flash and a burning on his neck. “Now, what in the hell do you mean by that?”

  “I don’t know. I just said it, okay?” she said and disappeared.

  “No, it’s not okay!” Tony roared. He hated it when Julie walked away in the middle of an unresolved argument. Not that there was a resolution. Parker didn’t even understand why they were arguing.

  His mind was fuzzy. He felt light-headed and didn’t know why. He hadn’t had that much to drink. Maybe the flu. He thought of it and tried to remember what had set them off. It clouded his mind and was confusing to think about. He went back to the kitchen cabinet and took out the bottle of Weller’s. This time he grabbed a large tumbler, filled it with ice and brought both glass and bottle back to his chair.

  Several hours had passed, and Parker realized he was staring out at early evening shadows. He gripped the half-full, iceless tumbler, still in a daze. The bottle lay empty on the floor. Yankee had knocked it off the lamp stand when Parker let him in for some understanding companionshi
p. Paper towels still soaked up the booze on the large spot where it had spilled.

  Parker felt Julie’s presence and turned to look at her, Yankee doing the same. Julie came down the stairs and stood at the foot. She had that disgusted look on her face. She wore her aerobics outfit, and he looked at her through unfocused eyes. Even through his alcohol-blurred eyes, she was a vision to behold. He liked the way her tight outfit caressed her body. The pink and green top accented her bust, and her light brown hair was back in a ponytail. It reminded him of the way she had looked in high school. The argument had long since left his fuzzy brain, and he smiled at her.

  “Oh, this is just great, you—shit head!” she said with her hands on her hips, the previous confrontation, obviously, still fresh in her mind. “Now, I suppose you’re drunk.”

  He frowned, trying to look sober and serious. “No, I’m all right. I thought you weren’t going tonight.”

  “I changed my mind, okay?”

  “Okay, sure,” Tony said sheepishly. He knew he was in trouble and was having a hard time discerning for what. His best defense was to go along with everything Julie said. “You can go. I’m fine,” he said as the hand he leaned on slipped, making his head bob.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about—shit head!”

  Parker frowned again, wishing for a different nickname. Julie walked over to Tony’s side, and he watched her every step. She picked up the half-full tumbler and walked swiftly to the kitchen with it. He

  heard the whiskey pouring down the drain.

  “What happens if Audrey needs changed? Can you do it?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Okay, but you’d better not screw up. You get in here right now and drink some coffee. If you need anything, the health club’s number is by the phone. I just fed and changed Audrey, and Nick is still sleeping.” Julie came back through the living room and grabbed her purse off the coat-closet doorknob. “I should be home by a quarter after ten.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve done this before,” Tony said smiling.

  “Yeah, but you’ve never done it drunk, shit head.”

  “I’m not drunk, and I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “It’s the only name that fits, right now,” she said. “You two deserve each other.”

  Tony blinked for a moment, thinking at first Julie meant he and Sarah. He looked at Yankee and noticed the stupid, puzzled, intoxicated look on his face—the natural look the dog had been born with.

  “Now, get your butt in the kitchen and make yourself some coffee. I’ve got to go or I’ll be late.” She walked to the front door. “Oh, and darling,” she said with a gentle change of voice.

  “Yes, sweetheart,” Tony answered back, surprised at the pleasant tone.

  “Don’t burn the house down—shit head!” she said and slammed the door.

  The coffee seemed to help sober Parker some. After two and a half cups, he fell asleep in his chair with the TV on and Yankee by his side.

  CHAPTER 21

  Darkness had fallen over the Bumfields’ back yard. The small burg of Sand Creek had been wiped out by the dogs. None of the residents understood the gravity of their situation until too late to call for help—too late to run to their cars and flee.

  Not a single car had driven down the street of the little town since the pirate in the white van left. Tricia knew there probably wouldn’t be any until Mr. Burke, the mailman, came sometime before lunch, tomorrow.

  She was exhausted, worn out from holding her body taut and from crying quietly over her grandparents. She knew they were dead. She understood what death was. After all, she was a big girl. She was five years old, now, or at least would be in October. She caught herself nodding off as she huddled in the back of Dawg’s doghouse.

  She had been lucky earlier this afternoon. Just as Dawg and the other two dogs seemed to be picking up her scent and homing in on her, Mr. Lawrence from next door came out of his house, screaming. All three dogs had been distracted and forgot all about her. They had run off, chasing Mr. Lawrence, with the Lawrences’ own dog, Butch, trailing the pack.

  Tricia didn’t know what to do. It had been so frightening, so traumatic. She remembered how Grammy had shown her how to dial 911 for help if there was ever an emergency. She had shown her how to call her mother in Denver and had let her punch the numbers. She remembered Tony Parker and how he came and helped out in the last emergency. He was the dogcatcher. He’d know what to do. Tony Parker’s card lay with all the others next to the phone in the living room.

  Tricia was tired and hungry. She didn’t want to leave her safe haven but felt she must. It was unbearable to wait for help any longer. Besides, what if Dawg came back looking for her? Or what if Dawg just came back to his doghouse? He surely would, sooner or later. Probably sooner than help would come. Sooner than Mr. Burke would come to deliver those damned bills as Grandy would say.

  She paused from her thoughts to wipe her streaming eyes and running nose on Raggedy Ann and then rubbed her soiled doll on the side of her dress. She had to get into the house. She had to get in soon and call Tony Parker.

  Tricia crouched low in the opening of the doghouse, taking care to examine everything within sight. No movement. There hadn’t been any barks for hours, yells and screams for even longer. Once in a while, she would hear some growls, probably from the dogs fighting over their kills.

  No growls, now. The night was still. Time to move—shit or get off the pot as Grandy had said when driving himself and Tricia into Wichita to the grocery store one day. He’d said it to an elderly man stopped at a green light. Then, he’d caught himself and told Tricia to excuse me, Ma’am, and he’d tipped his hat to her. She remembered giggling at his clowning. The tears came back to her eyes but she wouldn’t allow them to flow.

  “Shit or get off the pot!” she said in her low Shirley Temple, Good Ship Lollipop voice and popped out of the doghouse. She darted for the back door of the house.

  With her hand on the screen door handle, she looked in the open doorway. What if Dawg and the others were inside? All of them. But then again, maybe they were all gone. Maybe they all ran off. Maybe they saw a rabbit and all ran away, chasing it, and would never come back. She frowned thinking of it. After today, these dogs probably wouldn’t much care for rabbits.

  Tricia moved slowly, tiptoeing her way into the house and through the kitchen toward the living room. It was hard to see in the dark, and she wanted to turn on a light but knew she shouldn’t. She tried to be quiet, as quiet as a mouse, and so far she had been.

  She bumped into something. A kitchen chair. It banged into the table, and a half-full glass of milk, left over from lunch, fell over and spilled on the table. Tricia pulled Raggedy Ann up close to her face and stopped still. She stood silently in the darkness, waiting to hear anything move that might have heard her. More than a minute passed before she was sure she hadn’t alerted the dogs and moved again, creeping to the living room.

  She eased through the doorway and stepped toward the phone table in front of the large, wide-open living room window. The window screen was torn into strips. Light shone through from the streetlight. It gave the room an eerie, spooky feel.

  She hadn’t thought about this being the last place she’d seen Grandy, but she was reminded of it by the time she made the middle of the room. She had stepped on something, and she looked down. In the dark shadows on the floor, she could make out Grandy’s body. She couldn’t really recognize it and wouldn’t have been able to even in the light, but it was in the same place as it had been earlier in the day, so it must be him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to so badly but held herself back, even though she realized her foot rested inside Grandy’s body.

  Tricia drew a deep breath. She stepped quickly over her grandfather and briskly toward the phone. When she reached out for it, her excited hand knocked the handset off, and it clattered onto the table. She pursed her lips and slowly scanned the room.

  She saw eyes. A pa
ir of eyes, glowing in the dark. They rose slightly.

  Oh no! A dog, and he’s seen me, and he’s in the hallway!

  Every joint in Tricia’s little body locked. She could do nothing but stare back at the eyes.

  A small, meek mew came from the thing. The same meow she’d distinguished from all the other commotion when she ran out of the house earlier in the day. It was Little Pussy. He lay on a ravaged body. Tricia knew it must be Grammy’s, but she couldn’t see for sure.

  She began crying uncontrollably, and her limbs convulsed. The kitten sprung up from its place on the chest of Grammy’s half-devoured body and ran to her. It stopped at her feet and arched its back and rubbed up against the little girl’s calf. Tricia saw it through blurred eyes. She whimpered.

  Tony Parker’s card lay on top of the phone table. She recognized it because she had picked it up and looked at it after Tony Parker and everyone else had gone outside. She could barely make it out through the sheet of tears covering her eyes. She laid Raggedy Ann down next to the phone and picked up the handset.

  Tricia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked at the card. Below the number printed on the card, there was another number hand printed. Tricia couldn’t read words yet, but she remembered Tony Parker saying his home number was on it. At this time of night, that’s where he would be, and the hand-printed number must be his home phone number.

  Tricia took care in pushing the correct numbers, just as Grammy had taught her. She was excited she had done so without a hitch— knew that Grammy would be proud…if she were alive—and she turned away from the window and bent down and grabbed up the kitten. She waited for the phone to make the connection and start ringing as the kitten nuzzled her cheek.

  She glanced over to the opposite wall at Grammy’s favorite picture. She’d told Tricia she liked it so much because it reminded her of Tricia and Dawg. It depicted a young girl, who had most likely just been scolded, standing in a corner. A dog was behind her, looking as if it wished to console her. On the glass cover of the picture, Tricia could see her own reflection, standing in front of the window in the dim light. It was ghost-like and covered the little girl in the picture.