Undressed To The Nines: A Thriller Novel (Drew Stirling Book 1)

by Jayden Hunter

  As he walked back around the corner of the house, he almost ran into a cat. The cat was just as surprised to see a human as Hull was to see anything alive. It turned and scrambled to gain footing. Hull was enraged and drew back his leg. He figured he’d kick that thing into its next life.

  He stopped and watched the cat escape under the house. He was embarrassed because he’d lost his cool. He knew taking his frustration out on a defenseless creature was beneath him. He took a deep breath.

  He got in his car and drove towards house number three on his list.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant.

  ~ Horace

  Some people avoid risks like skydiving or swimming with sharks. But those same people will eat themselves into certain disease and early death.

  ~ Drew Stirling

  Drew Stirling was officially scared shitless. Dusk had passed into darkness, and a chill fell over the cabin. The sky was filled with clouds. There was no moonlight. She could only see blackness when she looked off into the distance.

  Drew lit two kerosene lanterns and added logs to the fire. She started the potbelly stove. She could tell it was going to be an extra cold night even without her smartphone’s weather app. She stayed dressed in jeans, a sweater, and her boots. She wanted to be able to go outside if she felt trapped. She wanted to keep her options open. She had gloves and a jacket next to the front door. She’d used them to collect more firewood before nightfall, and now they rested on a chair next to the loaded shotgun.

  Drew snacked. She wasn’t hungry, but she was nervous. Eating helped, but only for a short time, then anxiety returned. Marc should have been back hours ago. He had promised to be back before dark. Drew looked over at the bookcase and then hung her head.

  She reminded herself that she was safe. Nobody knew she was here. There weren’t any lurking serial killers. Marc probably got stuck doing more work than he anticipated. It’s hard to imagine accomplishing anything computer-related without the internet, so he was probably trying to get as much done as he could while he had a wifi connection. Maybe he’d had a flat tire on his way back up the mountain.

  Drew considered her relationship with Marc. She needed something to keep her mind distracted so she wouldn’t be so nervous. She decided that she liked him and was going to let him take her out for a real date.

  She sat down with a chick-lit romance. No serial killers this time. She was deep into her book when she heard a creaking sound.

  She stiffened and listened. Other than an occasional crackle from the fire, it was silent. If Marc was back he’d have tried to open the door, called out, or knocked. With the door closed, she knew she couldn’t hear a car come up the drive, but certainly she’d see the headlights in the windows. She looked up and stared out the window. A shadow. A shadow had moved. The window was nearly black. The only light source was in the cabin. Except for stars, it was very dark outside. But she was sure she’d seen a shadow move.

  She looked through the window on the other side of the room. Nothing but pure darkness. She looked back to the first window. No movement. Maybe she was imagining things. Her pulse increased, her mouth went dry, and she made very slow and quiet movements.

  She hated that the window curtains were pulled back. While anyone that happened to be outside could look into the lighted cabin, she couldn’t see anything outside. If she stepped back a few feet, the windows were just holes like the dead eyes of a fish. She picked up the shotgun and set it on the sofa. She untied the fabric that held the drapes back at both windows. She felt a little better. At least nobody could look in.

  She sat and put the shotgun across her lap. She picked up her book and tried to get lost in reading a romance. Maybe it would help her to not be so anxious. Marc would come back and everything would be fine. Maybe.

  Drew tried to imagine what she was going to do if Marc didn’t show up tonight. The thought of sleeping here alone in the middle of the woods brought her back to being jumpy again.

  Drew cried. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks like like drops of rain on a hot day. She felt her throat constrict, and then her crying turned to weeping. She wept because she was afraid. And she wept for the many things she’d lost.

  Drew thought of all the fucked up things in her life that had brought her here. Sleeping with a married man old enough to be her father. Married with children. An important Congressman for fuck’s sake. The very fact that she’d misplaced her cell phone and not called everyone back right away. That she and Marc had looked at those files. So many regrets. Unchangeable things.

  She wept for herself. For dreams she’d never allowed herself to dream. She wept because she had dreams of doing something important in her life, using her intelligence, studying, learning, and becoming more than she was as a model. She wept because she was beautiful, as if that was something she could really take credit for. Then she wept because she was weeping. She realized everything in life was a trap.

  She wept because she wanted to do something that would earn her father’s approval, knowing all along that his lack of approval of the things she’d actually done had propelled her to do those things instead.

  It was a strange irony. She was a slave to fighting against this parental force. She’d have hated herself if she’d gone to study law or medicine because that’s what her father had wanted.

  But she had an epiphany. She’d done a nude modeling set as a reaction against him. What was the difference between doing what he wanted or doing the opposite to get back at him? She was being controlled either way. Ultimately, that’s what had brought her up here. She was fighting against who she was and who she wasn’t. She couldn’t figure out where the real Drew started.

  She stopped crying. She went to the bathroom for a tissue and when she was coming back into the living room, she knew she heard a noise. This time, she was positive.

  A footstep. She knew it. And then, there was a knock at the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The ones who are insane enough to think that they can rule the world are always the ones who do.

  ~ Stefan Molyneux

  Of course I’d make a good President. Isn’t that the point?

  ~ Congressman Lance Boyd

  Brandon Hull drove up the third driveway. He hadn’t expected darkness to fall so swiftly, but it was an advantage in his favor. He drove slowly because the driveway was narrow and not well-maintained. He glimpsed a cabin a few hundred yards ahead as he drove around a bend in the driveway. The cabin had windows that cast a soft vermillion glow like two eyes reflecting a setting sun.

  Hull turned off the headlights. He drove slowly by feeling where the ruts in the driveway were and by risking the occasional use of a dim flashlight.

  He saw her in the window looking out. He stopped the car and watched her. He watched the curtains fall. He drove forward, closer to the cabin. Hull parked when he was a hundred feet away. He put on his leather gloves and went to the trunk to consider what tools he needed. First, a ski mask. He slid it over his head. Besides keeping him warm, it would produce immediate shock and fear in the woman.

  He picked up zip line. He undid his belt, attached his holster, and placed his Glock 45 in it. He clipped a flashlight to the belt and then stood perfectly still.

  He went through his plan again. He had time to think and make sure he wasn’t overlooking anything. Nobody else would be coming up here tonight.

  As Hull approached the front of the cabin, he watched the windows for movement. He saw shadows move, but that was all. He wanted to get a layout of the place so he moved up onto the porch. It was impossible to see anything through the drapes. He moved around the cabin until he reached the kitchen window. He peeked in and saw that the kitchen and dining area were barely lit. She must be in the front room.

  He moved around to the back of the cabin. There were a two small windows out the bac
k, but they were not lit up. He noticed a small shed and a pile of firewood stacked against it. He couldn’t make out details in the darkness, but he made his way around the cabin and verified it had no rear entrance. She could try to leave by climbing out a rear window, but she’d be at a huge disadvantage if she did. He doubted she’d try to run out into the darkness.

  Hull wondered how scared she was, so he decided he needed to hear her voice. He went to the front door and stood off to the side. He knocked. “Hello! Hello, I’m lost,” he shouted.

  “Who are you?”

  He could tell by her voice that she was already coming undone. Good. “I’m a friend of the Eastmans.” He recalled one of the more colorful signs he’d seen on the drive up. “The Eastmans. They have a cabin up here. I’m lost in the dark. I was wondering if I could use your phone?”

  “No. I’m sorry. Please, please, just leave. Okay?” She shouted and her voice fractured. She was nearly hysterical.

  “I’m afraid I’m really lost. Please. I just need to borrow your phone. I’ll only be a second.”

  “There is no phone here.”

  “Yes. I know that, Drew.” He fired his weapon twice into the lockset and kicked in the door.

  Hull stepped in front of the doorway. He rested his weapon at his side. He had no plans to shoot her. He didn’t want her body to have any signs of damage other than from a car crash and her being drowned. He was momentarily blinded by the light coming from the inside of the cabin, but it wasn’t long enough for his mind not to register the shotgun pointed at him. His body reacted on instinct and he dove to the right.

  As he moved, the shotgun went off. He didn’t hear pellets hitting wood which meant she’d aimed well. The shot went right through the open doorway, exactly where he’d been standing a fraction of a second earlier. As much as he didn’t want to shoot her, he rolled over and came up in a kneeling firing position against the wall. If she walked through the doorway with a shotgun, he would kill her.

  She didn’t come outside.

  He moved himself towards the door and kept the gun pointed. He was prepared to change plans and shoot her. He hadn’t expected the shotgun.

  “Drew? Drew? Are you in there?” he asked. “I just want to talk.”

  The front door was open, but from his position on the right, he could only see partially into the family room. The kitchen and the rest of the living room were blocked from his view. He’d have to move his head too far into the doorway to see everything. He didn’t risk that.

  He called out to her again.

  “Go away,” she said. She sounded angry.

  Hull had been in this situation before. Once someone fired a weapon and entered the battle, adrenaline and the lust to stay alive took over.

  Drew wasn’t a sweet, pretty, defenseless young woman anymore. She was as angry as a threatening rattlesnake poised to strike in self-defense. She had a shotgun, she was scared for her life, and she had nowhere to go. A cornered animal, even a small one, could be viciously dangerous.

  “I need to talk to you, Drew. We can work something out.”

  “What? What can we work out?”

  “I need to talk to you about why you took that thumb drive. Why you thought you could risk national security. Why you didn’t call Boyd and give it back.”

  “I didn’t mean to look at those files. Honestly. If I could go back, I would. If you come in here, I’ll shoot.”

  “You don’t want to kill a man, Drew. You’re a model, not a killer. A nice city girl. Go back to your life. I won’t hurt you.”

  “Then why don’t you just leave?”

  “I need to talk to you first. I need to straighten out a few things.” He forced himself to sound calm and reasonable. “And then I’ll go. I promise. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then we have a problem. Don’t we?”

  Hull knew he’d eventually win this standoff. He had experience in war. He had experience fighting against warriors. She was dangerous, no doubt, but she couldn’t win here. They were too isolated. The worst case for him would be to wait until she couldn’t stay awake any longer. Nobody was going to show up and rescue her. He could flush her out with a fire, but that would be risky. Anyone seeing flames would call the authorities, and flames would be seen for miles.

  Hull believed she was inside the kitchen. She would have the best field of fire from there. She would have instinctively moved that way and that was where her voice was coming from. It was unlikely she’d try to climb out a window and flank him, but he reminded himself not to take anything for granted. Assume nothing. Be prepared.

  “Drew?”

  “GO AWAY!”

  “Drew. I’m not leaving here. Let’s talk. I’m a reasonable person. I work for the Congressman. I didn’t come here to hurt you. Honest. I’m scared too. You tried to kill me.”

  “You shot first.”

  “I just shot the door, Drew. Not at you. I have orders not to hurt you. The Congressman, Lance, he likes you. I’m not supposed to hurt you. I just can’t trust you with that shotgun. Why don’t we both put our guns down and talk. I won’t hurt you. I’m only here to get back the thumb drive and talk to you. Drew? Do you have the thumb drive?”

  “No…”

  “So where is it?”

  “Marc has the thumb drive. He’s coming back any minute.”

  “Okay, Drew. Tell me. Tell me what you did with those files.”

  “Nothing. Nobody can do anything because that reporter, the one who is missing, that reporter has to confirm stuff. There is nothing we can do.”

  “That’s right, Drew. Nothing you can do now. So, why don’t you put down your gun and sit on the sofa. We’ll talk. I’ll put my gun away too. Nobody has to get hurt.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Hull didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and wondered if there was anything she could tell him he didn’t know already. Probably not. She didn’t have internet access here. She couldn’t have talked to anyone but Marc, and Hull knew what Marc had done.

  He turned and moved towards the kitchen window. He knew that Drew was in there, so he kept his head down and crawled under the window. He slammed the butt of the gun into the lower corner of the window. He pulled his hand back to avoid any broken glass and the rest of the window was blown out. She hit it from the inside with another shotgun blast.

  Hull covered his face as the glass from the window flew around him. Drew had fired into the window a fraction of a second after he’d hit the glass. She was watching and had her finger on the trigger. What he didn’t know was how many shells she had loaded or if she had another weapon.

  “Drew! Drew, let’s talk. Put down the gun so we can talk.”

  “I’m not putting down the gun.”

  “Okay, Drew. I guess this is going to be a long night. Where’s your boyfriend? Is he coming to save you?”

  “He’s coming back any minute.”

  “He’s going to drive up here in that cute little convertible? Your Camaro? Drew? The green one?” Hull taunted. Time to change strategy.

  “You bastard.”

  “Don’t worry, Drew. I was gentle on him. He barely suffered.”

  “You’re a monster.”

  “Now don’t say that. I’m doing my job. I’m protecting the country, Drew. This is national security stuff. You crossed the line. You did, Drew. And you fucked a married man. You’re trying to ruin his career and hurt America, Drew. Is that the kind of person you are?”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is true. But he likes you, Drew. He does. I like you too. I respect that you didn’t just give up. I know you are strong. Look, Lance doesn’t want you hurt. He understands this was all an accident. Just put down your gun. We’ll talk. I promise not to hurt you.”

  “What about Marc?”

  “He attacked me. I’m working to protect this country. Don’t you watch the news? Don�
�t you know how many enemies we have? Don’t you realize that you’ve crossed the line? Don’t you realize that I’m not the enemy? I don’t want to hurt you, I promise. I won’t hurt you. But you have to put down the gun.”

  Drew didn’t answer him.

  He waited. Silence.

  Hull went to the pile of firewood and grabbed a log. He came back to the window and positioned himself out of her field of fire, but still in a position that gave him a view into the cabin.

  He put his Glock into its holster and lifted the log over his head with both hands. He threw the log towards the window, unholstered his weapon, and aimed. The log crashed through the window. The remaining glass shattered and fell to the wood floor inside.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.

  ~ Sun Tzu

  Words can be as deadly as bullets. But bullets are faster acting.

  ~ Brandon Hull

  Drew Stirling was crouched in the pantry at the end of the kitchen. She held the shotgun tightly against the door jamb and aimed it towards the window. Her body was inside the pantry, and she had a good field of fire. She had no realization that if Hull was in her position, he’d have picked the same spot to defend himself. She’d chosen to place herself there on instinct.

  There were only two ways into the kitchen. One was direct from the living room and the second was through the window. She had both covered. Drew admonished herself for not putting more rounds into the gun. She had only one shell left. One shot.

  She had never been in a life-threatening situation before tonight. She’d never been attacked by an animal. She hadn’t been swept out to sea. Never stuck in a city while mobs rioted and burned down buildings. She’d never been mugged. She’d never been assaulted. She hadn’t even gotten into a drunken catfight at a bar, although she’d seen a few of those. Drew had not even fired a real gun before a couple days ago.