They talked for another minute before her mother told her to send the kids. She smiled when she saw them in the mirror, patiently waiting for the verdict.
“Okay, y’all can go.”
“Yay! Going to Grandma’s!” Heather cheered.
“Come on, get out and I’ll watch you walk down to Grandma’s,” Julie said, smiling at her kid’s beautiful faces. She was lucky to have great parents and such wonderful kids.
His eyes sparkled. “You’re going to let us walk by ourselves, Mom?”
She grinned. “Yes, buddy, you both are getting big so you can walk to Grandma’s by yourselves, but I’ll be watching you.” Julie watched her kids walk down the block, holding hands, huddled up, looking like penguins waddling down the sidewalk.
She went back to her car, grabbed her purse, closed the door, and thought about how she needed to make time to go for a run. It had been almost a week since she last ran.
Julie liked to keep in shape, and Henry liked to hit the gym and workout with weights. Julie liked running more than weight training, but she really did like doing squats, which helped her butt to stay perky. Julie liked it when Henry went jogging with her, but it would have to warm up a little outside before she would go running.
Julie went into her house, putting her purse down on the kitchen counter, like a million times before, glad to be home.
She stopped moving, taking in a big breath, thinking about what to make for dinner again. Then she realized there was time for a glass of wine, or maybe time two to help her decompress.
Ambling over to the cupboard, she opened it. Ten beautiful bottles of various white wines, red wines, and several bottles of different liquors, were revealed. Julie reached and chose a bottle of white wine.
Grabbing the bottle opener, opening the bottle, Julie smiled from ear to ear, she got one of the big wine glasses and poured half a glass. She drank the wine in one big gulp, pouring another, filling up the glass.
Wine was, she truly believed, the best invention ever created by man.
Julie turned, wanting to go into the living room, turn on the TV, and veg out for a few minutes. Seeing a man, she almost dropped her glass when she saw his handgun aimed directly at her. “Please take whatever you want, please don’t hurt me.”
He sighed, staring at her. “I’m not here to rob you, Mrs. Creed,” said the man.
She shook her head. “Please don’t kill me.”
He thinned his lips. “I’m not here to kill you either, Mrs. Creed. If I were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
She relaxed a fraction. “Okay, what do you want?”
He didn’t answer.
“What’s your name?” Julie asked, wanting to take another big gulp of wine.
“Please sit down over there, Mrs. Creed,” he said, pointing to the sofa with his handgun.
Julie thought about taking her glass with her and drinking it but she wanted to be clear headed. She put the glass down.
“No, please take the wine with you. You probably need it.”
Julie did. She sat down, and took a sip.
“I’m looking for Rose.”
Her forehead crinkling, she shrugged. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
Sitting in the chair near Julie, he placed his arm on his leg, the pistol pointing at the floor. “Well, I’ve recently discovered that she uses another name, ‘Chloe’. Do you know her?”
“What do you want with her?”
He shook his head, sighed. “Mrs. Creed, the rule is the person with the gun gets to ask the questions.”
Julie didn’t say anything and took another sip, thinking about her kids and how they usually changed their minds on a dime, and might come home.
“How are you acquainted with Chloe?”
“I need to call my kids.”
He shook his head. “No, you need to answer my question Mrs. Creed.”
She had to hold the wine glass out in front of her with both hands because she didn’t want him to see her hands shaking. “Look, you can be nice all you want, the facts are you broke into my house, and you’re pointing a gun at me, in my house! My kids are my primary concern, and I don’t want them coming home to this.”
He exhaled loudly, throwing up a hand. “Okay, Mrs. Creed, please call your kids, but do it here in front of me.”
Julie got up, walked over to the kitchen counter, and retrieved her purse. She had a Taser, the kind that fired dart-like electrodes, in her purse along with her cell phone.
The Taser was a decent weapon, but Julie preferred to have a handgun. Her 9mm Sig Sauer was in her nightstand inside a fingerprint-reader lock. It kept nosey children out. She wanted to carry it to work, but hospital policy didn’t allow it. So, she kept the Taser in her purse.
She went to the sofa with her purse, reached inside, and for a second thought about grabbing the Taser, but she was too nervous to use it effectively.
Her job as an RN put her in contact with crooks and criminals all the time, but to have one in her living room with a handgun pointed at her was a bit surreal.
She had to remain calm if she wanted to see her children and husband’s faces again.
She pulled out her cell phone and fumbled with it for a moment.
The man got up and reached for Julie’s arm, grabbing it. “Mrs. Creed, please, I’m not here for you. I’m looking for Chloe. Please call your kids and tell them not to come here, but nothing else,” he said, letting go of her arm.
“Okay,” Julie said, as she called her parents’ house.
“Put it on speaker, Mrs. Creed.”
She pushed the speaker button on the phone.
It rang twice.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Hey baby, you want me to cook the kids something for dinner?”
“Uh, yeah. Please, Mom. I had a really bad day and I’m too tired to cook anything.”
The man stared at Julie, listening.
“I ask because they told me they were hungry.”
Julie wanted to cry. She didn’t want to die. Worse than death, would be for one of her kids to come home to find her dead body. “Yes, please keep them and make sure they do their homework, I’ll be over later to check it.”
“Good, they’re at the kitchen table with their books. I think I have some hamburger meat in the freezer, I can cook them up some burgers.”
“Alright, Mom, and please let them watch cartoons when they finish eating and doing their homework.” That was a bit unusual. The kids always wanted to watch cartoons, but Julie liked them to watch nature shows or a show, which taught them things.
She chortled. “You know I let them. I always let you watch cartoons when you were little.”
Julie’s mom had become such a softie in her old age. “Yes, I know, Mom, you’re such a good mom.”
“Thanks, baby, I’ll see you later. Love you!”
Julie took a big gulps wine. She didn’t want to hang up yet, but couldn’t do anything to upset this strange man in her home. “Mom, I love you!”
The man ended the call, and leaned forward. “Mrs. Creed, your kids are safe, and aren’t coming home. How do you know Chloe?”
She jutted out her chin. “What’s your name? How can I talk to you without knowing your name?”
The man looked at Julie and was obviously getting irritated, unused to people talking back to him, much less women, Julie guessed. She eased back in the sofa.
“Ah, I think you recognize me, don’t you?”
he had a good idea who this man was, but she didn’t understand why he was here. “Yes, I think you’re Lukas Zimmerman. I’ve seen you on TV.”
Looking extremely tired, he ran a hand over his head. “Chloe murdered my son this morning.”
Long ago, her husband told Julie about his sister, specifically what she did to make a living. Chloe told him to tell Julie, she didn’t want something like that kept secret. You could let a lot of things go when you knew someone went through
some horror-show shit like Chloe and Henry went through as children. After listening to Chloe and Henry tell how they grew up, Julie was surprised her sister-in-law didn’t become a drug addict or kill herself.
Julie stared at him. If Chloe did what he said she did, then she knew Chloe had a good reason. “Why did she do that?”
“Well, fuck, Julie! I don’t know! That’s why I would like to sit down and ask her while I peel the skin from her arms.” His nostrils flared.
Julie didn’t like that he used her first name. “Sir, I don’t know where she is.”
“So, her real name is Chloe?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And she’s your husband’s cousin?”
Her first instinct was to lie, but Julie thought he might be testing her, it would be worse if he caught her lying to him. “No, she’s his sister.”
He winced. “Sister?”
“Yes.”
He frowned. “Damn, you know we’ve worked together for years? YEARS!”
Julie shrugged, grabbing her glass of wine.
Lukas sat the pistol in his lap. His other hand came up, wiped his face. “Did you know that Rose is the best?”
Julie took a sip.
She sighed, hoping she would live through this. “What is she the best at?”
Lukas leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, gazing at the floor by his feet. He glanced up at Julie. “At killing people.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Like A Hungry Dog
I held the pistol's magazine.
Waving it, I teased him. “Oops! You can’t cheat now. You’ll have to accept that a woman is kicking your ass.”
He threw the handgun down on the chair next to him. He didn’t have one in the chamber?
Blondie growled, “Screw you, bitch!”
“Not even on your birthday, Blondie, I like real men. I can’t stand candy-ass men.”
He kept his eyes on me the way a hungry dog keeps its eyes on a juicy calico cat. He moved slower now, his bell had been rung by the brass knuckles.
“You sure are moving slow. You want to give up? I’ll let the police arrest you. They’ll charge you with attempted murder, and you know what will happen to you in prison. You might even like it.”
Blondie jabbed multiple times, but I blocked them easily, his breathing becoming labored.
“Do you remember your name, Blondie?” He really didn’t look good. His left eye was starting to swell, and was purpling.
He laughed. “I’ll tell it to you when I kick your ass.”
“Oh yeah?”
He smile showed red-stained teeth. “Yeah, bitch.”
Turning my hips, I angled myself and he saw it, stepping back, and surveying the remnants of the dinner table. It would be difficult for me to use my legs when things were in the way. My fists would have to do the job. “Come on, Blondie!”
“No one will be able to identify you after I’m done with you,” he threatened.
“So, you’re Norman’s buddy, right? Are you two lovers?”
Carter didn’t rile as I hoped. He just stood there, trying to catch his breath, which told me Carter probably wasn’t in shape to go fifteen rounds.
Stopping, I pointed at him. “Carter, you okay, buddy? You look horrible.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to have fun killing you, bitch!”
“Oh yeah? Why are you running away from me?”
Carter stopped, and put up his dukes. “I’m not.”
Almost tripping over Teresa, I started moving around and didn’t notice when she moved. Her body lay partially in the kitchen now, her legs in the dining area. Slowly reaching down, keeping an eye on Blondie, I put two fingers on the side of her neck. She mewled at my touch. I barely felt a pulse.
I needed to end this and call an ambulance for him and her. I could ask questions later.
Something vibrated inside my jacket. The image of a disposable phone that Lukas gave me earlier came to my mind.
It was him. Lukas probably wanted to talk about me murdering his son, but he would have to wait.
Uncharacteristically, I swung and missed badly, stepping on a piece of broken table, my ankle twisting. Unable to keep my balance, I fell, and landed on the floor. Carter followed me and jumped on top of me, straddling me. I jabbed, but he blocked me. Then he grabbed my wrists.
His face was a few inches away from mine. “Now I’m gonna kill you!”
Wincing, I turned my head. “God, Blondie, your breath stinks. You ever hear of mouthwash?”
This time my words did penetrate.
His face scrunched up. He let my left hand go, coiling his right one back, making a fist. My left hand became free, four fingers lined up next to one another, and I hit his Adam’s apple hard and fast.
Coughing, Carter released my other wrist, and quickly jumped off me. He grabbed his throat with both hands. He coughed again as if he’d been smoking two packs a day for twenty years.
Standing, I stretched my neck to the sides. Each ear almost touched a shoulder. I took a couple deep breaths.
He limped like a crippled creature out of some creepy lagoon, angled his body, brought up his left leg, and tried to kick me. He missed me by a foot. He wasn’t good with his legs. He followed the blind kick with a haymaker. Blondie moved faster than I thought he could. I brought up my hand just in time, catching the brunt of the blow. It hurt, but I didn’t verbalize it.
I moved backward a few steps, hitting a wall.
I looked up in time just before Blondie plowed into me. I raised my knee, hitting him in the gut. Like Archie in the stairwell, Blondie’s forward momentum kept him going, and. he squished me into the wall. I stumbled backwards, but didn’t fall. He held his midsection.
He tried to take a step but fell instead.
Then, I fell too.
My ribs hurt like a bitch.
He crawled over to me. I tried to hit him in the face but missed, the motion causing the pain in my ribs to multiply tenfold.
I screamed like a girl.
Blondie had his hands on me. I tried to stop him but I couldn’t. He fiddled around down my midsection.
“What the hell are you doing?” I croaked confusedly.
Then his hand reached into my jacket pocket.
He wanted the pistol’s magazine. He pulled his hand out with the magazine, grinned crookedly, and stood slowly.
He turned towards the living room. “I’m about to kill you, that’s what I’m doing.”
I ignored the searing pain in my ribs, swinging my leg, connecting with one of his ankles.
Blondie fell like a sinner in a Pentecostal revival. On the way down, his head hit the edge of a chair he threw earlier from the dinner table and he landed on the floor with a thunk.
Kicking his ankle caused me so much pain I found it hard to breathe. Still lying on the floor, Blondie was face down, his head bobbing up and down.
I rolled over to all fours, concentrating on my breathing, able to take a couple of breaths.
He had a cut on his cheek under his right eye.
I made it to my feet, and took a few deep breaths, feeling as if a baby hippo was dancing around inside my ribcage.
“Fuck!” I yelled, my eyes watering.
Blondie was catching his snap faster than I could suck in air. He was now on all fours, trying to keep his head up.
It was going to hurt, but I did it anyway. The first step hurt the most, then the next few steps towards Blondie weren’t as painful. I kicked his face but not as hard as I wanted as he saw me coming and turned his head, dodging the kick.
It was time I stopped messing around.
He tried to grab me but failed when I walked past him and entered the living room.
He stood up. “What the hell are you doing?”
I looked at the chair and grabbed it.
“This is your last time. You tell me where to find Norman White and I’ll let you live.”
He shook his head. “I’m
not telling you shit.”
Raised my hand, and aimed his pistol at him.
He grinned. “I have the bullets, you dumb bitch.”
Wincing, I glared at him. “Did you check to see if there was one in the chamber?”
BANG!
The bullet entered his chest, causing him to take a step backward. Blood trickled out of his chest, then he fell.
Blondie had no pulse. Another sicko bites the dust.
Patting his body down, I found his cell phone in a pocket. Then I bent over, and touched Teresa’s face. She was alive, aware of my presence.
I told her she had to tell the cops that she killed him with the gun, and I wasn’t here. She agreed and thanked me for saving her life.
If I had used my knife on Blondie, the cops would know to look for someone else, because Teresa didn’t look as if she would be capable of such an thing. If Teresa shot him, the cops probably wouldn’t look too hard at his wounds. Cops hated men who hit women.
I called 911 and let Teresa talk to the operator. She told the operator she managed to get the gun away from an intruder, and shot him.
She gave them the address and hung up.
I would have to wait to talk to her in the hospital.
While I waited for the ambulance, the phone Lukas gave me vibrated again. I smiled and thought this should be good. It was a text—a picture. My knees almost failed me, and my heart pounded my chest like a jackhammer. “Shit!”
It was a picture of Julie, bound and gagged.
Then Lukas called.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Shoot Him On Site
Lukas was a madman.
He held Julie captive, and I felt helpless. Getting in my car and pulling out my phone, I called Henry.
He picked up on the second ring. “Sis, what’s up?”
“Something serious just happened.”
“What?”
I could hear men talking in the background. “You still at that sicko’s house?”
“Yeah, they found more stuff here, papers, documents,” he said. “Looks like financials of some sort.”
“Look, Henry, I just got a call and it’s bad news.”
“Really? What can be worse than finding out that Uncle is back, and we had a chance to put that son of a bitch behind bars, but he escaped?” Grit in his voice.
Ungoverned: A Thriller and Suspense Novel (Ungoverned Series Book 1) Page 17
