“Don’t they have servants?” I asked. “Big place like this?”
He shook his head. “Thacker has a place in Aspen, too. He sent his wife there. The kids are grown and living elsewhere, so the house is empty. No servants here now.”
I started softly singing “Should I Stay Or Should I Go?” by The Clash.
“Will you focus?” he muttered.
“Sorry, trying to stay awake.”
He rolled his eyes, then tried the door. “Locked.”
“Maybe Thacker can’t hear the doorbell.”
Now he glared at me.
“Call him again,” I said, growing serious.
That thought hadn’t occurred to him…and yet I was the one who was exhausted. He fished out his phone and dialed.
“He’s not answering. Something’s wrong,” he said.
I glanced around. “Is there another way inside?”
He pointed south. “Go that way.”
We trotted back across the porch, down a set of stairs and through some trees. He led the way, and I glanced at the house as we went. It remained dark. We emerged through the trees and ran across a lawn and around the end of the house to another wide driveway and a four-car garage. No cars were parked outside and the garage doors were closed.
“For the servants,” Andre said.
Andre ran to the other side of the driveway and around the corner to the side of the garage, with me on his heels. He paused in front of a small side door and tried the knob. It didn’t turn.
“Come on,” I said.
This time I led the way toward the back of the house, running around even more evergreen trees. All the windows on this side of the house were dark as well. We finally reached the back porch, and off to the west, across a large lawn, I spied a pool. I had a fleeting thought that they should have drained it by now as I crossed the porch to a bunch of sliding glass doors. I started testing them to see if any were unlocked, and Andre did the same.
“Nope,” he said a second later.
Without another word, we ran north, and I saw no lights here either. By now I was winded, and chided myself I’d go jogging with Willie the next time she went. We eventually arrived at the north side of the house, where there was another long driveway and garage, this one with six stalls. All the doors were closed.
“This is where the family parks,” Andre said.
I nodded and tried not to show him that I was sucking wind. I’ll bet we’d run half a mile just getting to this point, but he appeared as fit as the day he got out of the military, and he wasn’t even breathing hard.
“Is there a side door for this garage?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I never paid attention. I usually come around front or park around the south side.”
“We didn’t pass a door,” I said and started across the driveway. “Let’s see about the other side of the garage.”
We passed by the garage doors and around the corner, and there we found a door. I checked it.
“It’s locked, too,” I said. I waved a hand in the air. “These are the only ways to get in? We’ve checked all the entrances?”
“I think so.”
I stepped back and stared at him. “Maybe we should call the police.”
“And tell them what?” he snapped.
“That Charlie Devereux may be after Thacker. They can do a welfare check, and if there’s a problem, they’ll handle it.” I should’ve suggested it before, but then, I thought I’d just be talking to Thacker.
Andre’s face grew taut. “Do you know what kind of embarrassment this would cause him? No, it needs to be handled internally.”
I slowly shook my head. “Nope, I’m calling the cops.”
He pulled out a Ruger pistol and pointed it at me. “I can’t let you do that.”
I took another step back and held my hands up. “You’re taking loyalty too far.”
“I’m paid to do a job.” He held out his other hand. “Give me the Glock. Slowly.”
I’d holstered the Glock, so I bent down, took it out and carefully handed it to him. He stuffed it in his waistband behind his back.
“And your phones.”
I gave him Willie’s and my cell phones and he pocketed them.
“Your keys.”
I sighed and gave them up as well. He’d either forgotten about the lock-pick set or he didn’t care. “Why’d you give them back to me,” I said, “if you were just going to take them away again?”
“I didn’t think you’d turn on me.”
“I was never on your side.”
“Whatever,” he said.
“You said Charlie needed to be dealt with.” He said nothing. “They’re paying you to resolve this quietly.” He finally nodded. My mind raced. “You’re going to kill Charlie when you find her.”
His dark eyes were like ice.
“Unbelievable,” I said.
“We’ve got to make sure Thacker is okay.”
“We don’t have to do anything.”
In a flash he was in my face, his eyes narrowed into slits, his nostrils flaring. He shoved the Ruger under my chin. “Listen, bud, you’ve caused me enough trouble for one day. If you don’t ratchet it down, I’ll shoot you right now and deal with the consequences later.”
I leaned back. “Okay. All you had to do was ask.”
“Now,” he said, calming down slightly. “How do we get in?”
I stuck my hands in my coat pockets and felt the lock-pick set. My face must’ve shown something because Andre suddenly said, “What about your lock-pick set?”
“What about it?” I stalled.
He jerked a thumb at the door. “Open it.”
“Sure,” I said. I moved cautiously around him, aware of the Ruger still pointed at me. I pulled out my picks, then had to wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. I started on the lock. “He’s got to have an alarm system, right?” And that will alert the police, I thought but didn’t say. And if I remembered the area correctly, the Cherry Hills Police Department was close by.
“Yes, but if Thacker’s inside, he probably disarmed it.”
“Oh, okay.” I tried to hide my disappointment.
Night was fading and I could see a little – unlike the basement of the warehouse. The lock proved easy, but the deadbolt was in place, so I set to work on that.
“Hurry up,” he said.
“I am.”
I got the deadbolt unlocked and stuffed the picks back in my pocket. I was about to open the door when he grabbed my shoulder.
“Hold on.”
He shoved me to the left of the door, then he listened for a second. When nothing happened, he opened the door and pointed the Ruger inside. No one jumped out at him, nor did an alarm sound, so I prayed it was armed but in silent mode.
We tiptoed into the doorway. Andre held up a hand and we listened. After ten seconds of silence, he threw a switch and the garage lit up. It was spacious, and held four cars: a black Mercedes, a brand new red Bentley convertible, a Ferrari sports car, and a Cadillac Escalade. The Mercedes was closest and I went over and put my hand on the hood.
“Still warm,” I said.
His anger at me was replaced with worry.
“Let’s go.” He started toward a door that led into the house.
As I started after him, I wondered if I should bolt out the door and hide somewhere. Then Andre whirled around and aimed the Ruger at me again.
“Don’t even think about running, got it?” he snarled. “I assure you I’m better than you. I’d have a bullet in your head before you went five feet.”
Man, did the guy have ESP? I held up my hands again. “I’m along for the ride.”
Andre crept up to the door and tried the knob. It turned in his hand. He raised the Ruger and then glanced at me. “Quiet,” he murmured.
I nodded. He stood to one side of the door, and I positioned myself on the other. He flipped off the overhead light, then he gently turned the knob and swung the door inward.
&
nbsp; CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
6:25 AM
We listened, but nothing happened, so Andre flipped the garage light back on. A rectangle of light hit a marble floor. Beyond was blackness.
Andre then stepped through the doorway, moving the Ruger quickly left and right. He tiptoed further in and signaled me to follow. As I did, I tried to ignore the thudding sound of my heart. All I could make out in the darkness was that we were in a wide hallway. Andre knew where he was going and he seemed to glide silently across the floor, an impressive feat for such a big man.
I tiptoed after him. As we passed the doors off the hallway, I glanced in each room. Faint light filtered through windows on the left, and I could make out a gym and some kind of sitting room. The rooms on the right were dark. Andre didn’t seem to care about the open doors or darkness within, and he hurried forward. I had a fleeting thought that I should dart into one of the rooms and hide, but I knew he’d find me. Plus, I didn’t have my car keys or phone anymore. And he had threatened to shoot me, too.
He whipped around and gestured with the Ruger. “Hurry up,” he murmured.
We rounded a corner and then stopped. Up ahead was a massive foyer. Light filtered in from skylights, illuminating a grand chandelier.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered.
I tipped my head and listened. “No,” I finally said.
“Come on.”
We crept to the end of the hall and into the foyer. To our left was another foyer that led to the enormous front doors. To the right was an expansive staircase. At the top of the stairs I could barely make out a balcony with archways to the left and right. Dim light shone from the right archway.
“Do you hear it?” he murmured again.
Now I did: a voice, coming from down the lit archway.
“Stay close,” Andre said and started up the stairs.
We reached the top and paused by a massive pillar. Now the voice was louder.
“Thacker?” I murmured.
Andre shook his head. “But where is he?”
I shrugged. How the hell should I know?
Andre glanced down the dark archway to the left, then waved a hand at me. We stole toward the lit archway to the right. Thirty feet down that hallway, a sole light came out of a door. The voice grew louder. It was female, low and angry, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. I pressed myself against the wall. Andre did the same, holding the Ruger at shoulder level. We edged forward until we came to the door. Andre took a quick peek around the corner, then jerked his head back. He glanced back at me, his eyes wide with alarm. Then he pointed down.
I looked around him at the floor, and I understood the concern in Andre’s eyes. A gray-haired man was lying on his back near the door. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt that was stained with a dark red spot near his chest. I recognized his face from the papers: Edwin Thacker – and he’d been shot. His eyes were closed, and I couldn’t tell whether he was breathing.
“It’s got to be here,” a woman’s voice said from within the room.
Andre took another quick glimpse inside, then ducked back. He turned to me and mouthed, “Charlie.”
I leaned away from the wall and tried to peer into the room. The only wall I could see was filled with books and knick-knacks. There were also a couple of leather wingback chairs and a small round table between them. But I couldn’t see Charlie.
Andre glanced at me again and I shrugged. Neither of us knew exactly where she was. Then I noticed a large framed picture on the hallway wall opposite the door. The glass on the picture acted like a mirror. In its reflection, I could see into the room well enough to glimpse a woman standing behind a massive oak desk. She was tall, with short hair, and when she turned, I could see she was wearing a dark-colored hoodie. She was rifling through drawers and talking angrily.
“Where is it?” she roared. “Tell me!” Drawers opened and shut. “It has to be here! You think you can hide it from me?”
She was looking for the evidence that would exonerate Ryan. Which meant, I realized, that the letter had been a bluff.
Thacker’s body hadn’t moved. I tapped Andre’s shoulder and pointed at Thacker. “Dead?” I whispered.
He shrugged, then we both jumped when Charlie said, “What do you think you’re doing?”
I waited for a gunshot that never came. Then Charlie muttered something else, and I realized she hadn’t seen us, but was talking to herself.
She’s losing it, I thought.
Andre stepped away from the wall and held up a hand, indicating I should stay put. Then he moved through the rectangle of light and into the doorway.
He aimed the Ruger into the room. “Charlie,” he said calmly.
In the glass reflection, I saw Charlie’s head jerk up.
“You,” she scowled.
Andre must’ve seen something in her eyes. “Don’t try it.”
A second passed and in the reflection, Charlie swiftly snatched a gun off the desk. I glanced at Andre. He started to squeeze the trigger and Charlie yelled at him. At the same time, Thacker, who apparently wasn’t dead, reached out a hand and grasped Andre’s leg. Andre instinctively jumped, and his shot went wide of Charlie. Another shot sounded. Andre spun to his right, and a crimson spot appeared near his right shoulder. A third blast rang out and wood splinters sprayed from the doorjamb. Andre fell back into the wall by the door. His right arm dropped, then he sank to the floor near Thacker. Andre tried to raise his gun and yet another shot rang out. Andre gasped and his arm jolted, and he dropped the gun. It landed in the doorway.
She shot him in the arm, I thought.
Andre groaned and his eyes darted to me.
“Shut up,” Charlie said. “Or you’re dead.”
I’ve got to call the police, I thought frantically. But where was a phone in this damn house? I glanced down at Andre. Was there a way I could get my phone, or his, from his pocket without Charlie seeing me?
“You won’t get away with this,” Andre said to her.
“I don’t care.” Her voice was shrill. “All I ever wanted was to see Ryan’s name cleared. He didn’t belong in prison; couldn’t survive with all those thugs.”
Andre strained to talk as the blood spot on his shirt grew bigger. “You won’t be able to clear his name now.”
“I will,” she said. “Ryan always said Thacker had to have the true accounting records that showed real figures, not what he and that bitch Joan Bennett faked. When I find that, everyone will know that Thacker is guilty.”
“There are no records,” Andre said. “Ryan was just saying that to make you feel better.”
“There are!” she yelled. Sounds of papers shuffling. “And now that my son is dead, you will all pay!”
“You knew…” Andre said slowly, his face was pale and sweaty. “…when you sent that letter, we’d find you.”
“I don’t care! As long as the truth comes out. Ryan deserves that.”
More sounds of drawers banging open and slamming shut. I had been so focused on listening to the two of them talk, I hadn’t moved. Charlie was yanking files out of the drawers, opening them and throwing papers around, then slapping discarded files on the desk.
While she was absorbed with that, I sank to the floor, stretched my hand into the rectangle of light, and reached for Andre’s Ruger. He noticed what I was trying to do and he moved his arm, then groaned. I grabbed the gun and pulled my hand back just as Charlie spoke again.
“I’ll bet this is it!”
I slowly rose to my feet and stared in the glass. She was heading around the desk.
“Move away from the door or you’re dead,” she snarled at Andre.
“You’re crazy,” he said.
She pointed her gun at him. “Maybe. If you want to live, do it!”
Andre groaned as he somehow managed to drag himself away from the doorway. She stepped forward, away from his grasp. He signaled me with his eyes, letting me know she was close. But I could see her in the glass
as she approached the door. I raised my arm, Ruger in hand. Then I quickly wiped sweat from my eyes. My heart pounded ferociously. I’d never shot anyone before and I didn’t want to do so now. Charlie edged past Andre and through the doorway. She was still aiming her gun back at Andre as she moved into the hallway.
“Drop it,” I said calmly.
She screamed and darned if, in her surprise, she didn’t actually drop her gun.
“It’s over,” I said.
Or so I thought. Before I could move, she shrieked like a demon. I saw her arm coming up and I stepped back, but I didn’t see that she had something in her hand. A manila file folder came right at my face. I ducked, but a corner of the file caught me right in the eye. I yelped and blinked. Charlie karate-chopped my arm and I dropped the Ruger. She hollered again and pelted me, her fists flying around. I managed to get her wrist, but she jerked away. Before I could react, she karate-chopped me in the chest.
“Ow!” I hollered and slammed back into the wall.
Charlie bolted down the hall toward the archway. I gasped for air as I pushed myself to my feet and flew after her. That’s it, I thought. She’s not getting away!
She ran through the archway and I sped up, then tackled her. We landed in a pile near the stairs. She struggled hard, all hands and feet flailing. Then she shoved me against the wall. I managed to get to my knees, then I reached back and grasped a huge vase that was sitting in an alcove. I looked up just as Charlie let out a horrific howl and vaulted toward me. I swung the vase at her. It hit her head with a resounding crunch and shattered.
“Ugh,” she said, then dropped to the floor a few feet from me.
I sat back, sucking wind and shaking. Then I nudged her with my foot. She didn’t move. I swallowed hard, then stood up. I checked her pulse. Still going, but she was out cold. I knew the feeling. I left her there and stumbled back down the hall to the library. Andre stared up at me, his eyes not quite focused. His breath came in short gasps.
“Did you get her?” he asked.
I knelt down. “Knocked out,” I said, words at a premium.
I searched in his pockets and retrieved my cell phone. I dialed 911 and said we needed the police and an ambulance.
Night of the Hunted: A Reed Ferguson Mystery (A Private Investigator Mystery Series - Crime Suspense Thriller Book 11) Page 15
