Reed Ferguson Mystery Box Set 5 Read online

  She stood by the door, then grabbed a bottle and rag from the vanity. Still adroitly holding the gun, she managed to get the bottle open and dump some of the liquid on the rag.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Chloroform.”

  I received another eerie smile for that. Then she tossed the rag at me.

  “Put it over your face and start breathing.”

  I caught the rag and contemplated it. “Who keeps chloroform in their house?”

  “Timur brought it.” Her voice rose. “Now put it over your face.”

  I slowly raised my hand toward my face, but tried to keep the rag as far away as I could.

  “Cover your nose and breathe!” she yelled.

  I started to breathe, and try as I might not to inhale the chloroform, I did. I suddenly felt myself getting woozy.

  “Now lie down and roll over.”

  I kneeled down and stretched out on my stomach on the floor.

  “Hands behind your back, and don’t try anything cute or I will shoot you.”

  I stuck my hands behind me. Then I heard the sound of duct tape being unrolled, and before I could act, she swiftly wrapped tape around my wrists. I started to struggle, but she shoved the barrel of the gun in the back of my head.

  “Stop it or I pull the trigger.”

  I stopped moving. She used something to cut the tape, and then she wrapped more around my ankles. I heard more tape ripping, and she jerked my head around and slapped a strip of tape over my mouth. Then she stood up. I rolled to my side and glanced up at her.

  “Timur will be here soon.” She surveyed both of us. “Then he’ll deal with you two.”

  I didn’t like the ominous tone.

  She nodded once, satisfied, then spun around, shut off the light, and left the room, closing the door behind her. A small window up in the corner did nothing to illuminate the room. I lay for a bit, letting my head clear.

  I wasn’t bruised up, and I could move without any pain. I worked myself into a sitting position and leaned against the wall. Then I worked myself to my feet and hopped to the door. I used my arms and turned on the overhead light, then surveyed the room. A lamp sat on the nightstand, and a few pictures were on the dresser, but nothing else. I squinted at Vanderkamp. He blinked against the light, and he looked a pitiful sight. There was no way he’d be able to help me get loose. And I was going to look like him soon unless I could escape before Timur came back.

  I’d been tied up like this before, and I had managed to break a coffee table and use the wood shards to cut the tape. I stared at the bed, nightstand, vanity, and dresser. I didn’t see that happening here. But could I find something else to use? I leaned my butt against the vanity, bent down and with some effort, I started opening drawers. But they were all empty. By now, sweat was dripping into my eyes, and the effort was making my shoulders ache.

  I hopped to the dresser, but with my hands behind my back, I couldn’t reach the highest drawers. The others were empty, except for some bath towels. Then I worked my way over to the nightstand, leaned down and opened the drawer. I was getting tired, so I sat on the edge of the bed and caught my breath. Then I looked inside the drawer and saw some “People” magazines and a few pens. I swore and then did a poor job of kneeing the side of the drawer in frustration. The magazines shifted and something stuck out from under them. I peered into the drawer. It was an old cigarette lighter. I could burn through the tape, if I could get to the lighter, and if I could get it to work. I stood up, then bent down and reached into the drawer, but I couldn’t get down to the bottom of it. I bent at the knees and moved my hands around, then lost my balance. I tumbled to the floor, and my hands caught on the side of the drawer. The nightstand and lamp toppled over on me with a loud crash.

  Oh, I hope Bogie isn’t rolling in his grave.

  Vanderkamp grunted at me, but I ignored him. I listened for a moment to see if Karen had heard the noise, but nothing happened. I felt around on the floor. My hands found the magazines, then a pen, and finally the lighter. I breathed a sigh of relief as I grabbed it in my hands. I positioned it near the tape and flicked it. Nothing. I tried again, and again, and it finally lit. I felt burning on my wrists, but I also felt the tape give a little. Then the flame went out. I worked at the lighter again, and after a lot of trial and error, I felt the tape give more. I flicked the lighter on again, burned more tape, and it finally separated. I jerked my arms around in front of me, then ripped the tape off my mouth.

  “Ow,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Vanderkamp grunted again.

  “Hold your horses,” I said to him.

  I tried to pick at the tape on my ankles, but quickly gave up. I used the lighter and burned through the tape. It was much easier this time, since my hands were in front of me, and I was soon standing up. I stretched and rubbed my shoulders for a second, then went to Vanderkamp and ripped the tape off his mouth.

  “Good work,” he said, his voice sounding dry and scratchy. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  “Can you even walk?”

  He tried to shrug. “I don’t know. Timur beat me up pretty good.”

  My eyes darted around, then back to him. “Stay here. I’ll come back for you later.”

  “You can’t leave me!” he hissed.

  “I can’t haul you upstairs with Karen up there somewhere,” I said. “I’ll take care of her and come back.”

  “Reed!”

  By now I was at the door. I held up a hand to shush him. He glared at me, but stayed quiet. I turned off the light and then cracked the door open. At the end of the hallway, a rectangle of light filtered down the stairs. I listened, but didn’t hear anything, so I tiptoed down the hall. Then I wondered if I should find a weapon to use.

  To the left of the stairs was a long room with a couch and TV. Past that was a door. I crossed the room and quietly pushed open the door. Inside was a washer and dryer. I stepped in and looked around. Next to the dryer was a small closet. I opened it and found some cleaning supplies, including a mop and broom. I grabbed the mop. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. I went back to the stairs and slowly crept up them. I reached the top of the stairs. A light was on in the kitchen, and I listened as a mist blew in from the open screen door and onto my face. Then I heard voices coming from the living room. I recognized Karen’s, and then another female voice.

  Willie!

  I silently cursed. What was she doing here? I slapped a hand to my head. Not only did I need to rescue myself and Vanderkamp, but now her?

  I thought fast, then slipped around the corner and into the kitchen, holding the mop in front of me. I edged up to the doorway to the living room and listened.

  “I know he’s here,” Willie was saying. “Just keep your hands up.”

  I gritted my teeth. Willie had her gun?

  “You’re not going to shoot me,” Karen said. Her voice was nearby.

  She’s near the doorway! I wondered if I could smack her in the head with the broom.

  “Reed!” Willie called out.

  Karen laughed. “That won’t do you any good.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Willie said. She had a threatening tone in her voice, but behind it, I could hear fear.

  Then I heard the front door open.

  “Put the gun down,” a deep voice with an accent said, “or I will shoot you.”

  Timur!

  I swore again. He had a gun on Willie. I knew Willie wouldn’t shoot anyone, but now she was a sitting duck. What would they do to her? I glanced around frantically. I’d have to come at Timur from another direction.

  I crossed the room and quietly opened the screen door. As I darted outside, I wondered where the dog was. I stood on a small, covered porch and waited for Thor to leap out of the darkness and attack me. Then I heard a low growl and a chain rattle. I peered into the gloom and spotted Thor. He was chained to a huge dog house. He began to bark and strain against the chain, trying to get at me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was saf
e from him … unless he figured out a way to break that chain. And I could see him doing it.

  I gripped the mop tightly in my hand as I did my best to ignore the dog. I hurriedly looked around, and started to the right. Then I noticed a breaker box. It had an ancient padlock that wasn’t fastened. I glanced back into the kitchen, then leaned the mop against the side of the house, took the lock off the breaker box, and swung the panel up. I had no idea what switches to flip, so I started turning them all off. And the house suddenly went dark.

  I heard a shout and I darted toward the side of the house, stumbling on a wooden Adirondack chair. Timur’s voice was close. I grabbed the chair, stepped off the porch, and hefted it up over my head, grunting in the process. Rain poured down on me.

  “He’s gotten out,” I heard Karen holler. “I’ve got the girl. Go find him!”

  Timur said something I didn’t understand. He was standing just on the other side of the screen door. I held my breath. Then the screen door opened. A shadow stepped outside. Timur moved slowly forward, a gun in his hand that pointed out into the yard. Thor barked louder. Timur took a few more steps and as he turned toward me, I swung the chair at him. It walloped him on the shoulder and head, and broke into pieces. He pitched forward and dropped the gun. He started to roll over and I leaped onto him. He started to raise an arm and I punched him in the face, and then again. He tried to ward off the blows, but I had the element of surprise on my side. I snatched up one of the broken pieces of chair and walloped him on the head. He groaned and his hands flopped backward. I pushed myself back on my haunches, gasping for air, then frantically searched around on the ground until I found his gun.

  “Timur!” Karen yelled. “Did you find him?”

  I mumbled something, hoping it would fool her. Thor kept barking.

  “Bring him in here,” she said.

  I stood up and stumbled to the door. Through the screen, I saw a small light bobbing around. I grabbed the mop and let myself inside. The house was dark. I wiped a hand over my face, crossed to the living room doorway, and peeked around the corner. Karen stood close by, a flashlight in one hand and a gun in the other. Both were pointed at Willie.

  “Timur!” Karen said.

  Just as I took a step forward, the screen door was yanked open behind me. Timur lurched in the door, his forearms on the doorjamb. He said something in Chechen and staggered toward me. At the same time, Karen turned in my direction. I stepped toward her and swung the mop, bringing it down on her arms. She yelped and dropped the gun and flashlight. I bolted through the living room doorway with Timur on my heels. Karen fell to the floor, simultaneously reaching for the gun and yelling that I’d broken her arm. I kicked her gun away, then tried to step past her, but she reached out and tripped me. I toppled forward, righted myself and spun around, just in time to see Willie snatch up Karen’s gun. Timur stood in the doorway.

  “Stop!” Willie yelled at him as she swung the gun upward. Then a shot rang out.

  “Argh!” Timur shouted. He fell to the floor, clutching his left knee.

  “You shot him!” Karen said. She was also on the floor, rubbing her right wrist. “And I think you broke my wrist.”

  “Can you make a fist?” Willie asked.

  Karen slowly squeezed her hand shut. “Yes.”

  “Then it’s not broken.”

  I stared at Willie. Even now she was being a nurse.

  “You shot me,” Timur muttered again. “My knee.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Willie said softly.

  “Where’s a phone?” I asked.

  Willie shrugged. “They took mine.”

  I nodded. “Mine, too.”

  We both kept our guns trained on them, and I was about to search Karen when I heard voices.

  “We’re coming!” Then Ace and Deuce barreled through the open front door.

  I threw up my hands. “Didn’t anyone follow my directions?”

  “We did,” Ace said indignantly.

  “Yeah,” Deuce chimed in. “We waited at the hotel for that guy, and then Willie got worried that you were in trouble. She said she was going to come here and make sure you didn’t need help, so we came, too.”

  “Right,” Ace said. “We’re keeping an eye on her, like you said.”

  They both nodded, then eyed Karen and Timur.

  Deuce pointed at Timur, then noticed him clutching his leg. In the flashlight’s glow, blood oozed around his hands. Deuce stared at me. “You shot him?”

  I gestured at Willie. “She did.”

  “Wow,” Ace and Deuce said in unison. They looked at her in awe.

  I chuckled. “Where’s Cal?”

  “He’s watching from the car,” Deuce said. “In case anyone got away, he was going to run them over.”

  “That’s what he said?” Willie asked.

  “Yeah,” Ace said. “But I don’t think he actually would.”

  Willie put a hand over her mouth to hide a smile, but I saw that her hand was shaking. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of sirens cut through the rain.

  “And he called the police,” Deuce said.

  “Good.” I moved over to Willie and put my arm around her.

  “How did you know Karen had me tied up?”

  “I didn’t,” she said. “When I came here and asked about you, she said she’d never heard of you, but then she invited me in and said you’d been around earlier but left. I knew she was lying, and then I saw your gun on the coffee table. I grabbed it and told her not to move. That’s when you came onto the scene.”

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, took a deep breath, then leaned against me. I held her close as she trembled.

  “It’ll be all right,” I whispered.

  “I know.” Then she let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mean to shoot him. I guess my adrenaline got to me and I squeezed the trigger. Maybe I need more time at the shooting range.”

  “Some detective you are,” I said with a laugh.

  She punched me.

  Chapter Thirty

  The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. Vanderkamp was rescued and taken to a hospital for evaluation. Timur was arrested, and then taken to a hospital to have his knee treated. Karen Abram denied any wrongdoing, but when I played back the recording I had of our conversation, and the subsequent events with Willie, she was arrested as well. A vigilant neighbor came and took Thor to his house for safekeeping.

  My team, with the exception of Cal, who stayed in his car, was interviewed by the police, which was a long, tedious process. We were finally allowed to go, with the stipulation that we be available for further questioning, should the need arise. By the time we all got back to our condos, we were exhausted.

  “Goodnight.” Ace waved as he started for his condo.

  “Hey, Willie,” Deuce said. “Can we go with you to the shooting range?” He was still in awe of Willie and her shooting Timur.

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” I muttered.

  “Right on!” Deuce waved at us as well, and then followed his brother.

  I started up the stairs to our condo. “I’m beat.”

  “Me, too,” Willie said. “Did Cal get in touch with you?”

  “Yeah. Once he saw the police arrive, he went to a shopping center nearby and waited, just in case we needed him. I called him on the way here and said everything was okay, so I’m sure he’s home by now.”

  “And he stays incognito,” she said with a laugh.

  “Just the way he wants it.”

  We climbed the stairs and I unlocked our door, then we plodded down the hall to our bedroom.

  “Are you doing okay?” I asked Willie as she began to get ready for bed.

  She turned to me. Her expression was a mix of trepidation and fatigue. She thought a long time before answering. “I just wanted to talk to Karen, but when she started for her gun, instinct took over. I was angry because I didn’t want anything
to happen to you.”

  I went over and kissed her. “I’m glad you did. And I’m glad nothing happened to you.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said with a proud smile.

  “That you can.”

  She quickly undressed and slipped under the covers. “Hold me.”

  I got in with her and pulled her close. It took a while, but we finally fell asleep.

  “I’m going to do better this time,” Willie said as she picked up my Glock.

  “Hey, I never said you did a bad job,” I protested.

  It was a week later, and Willie and the Goofballs were with me at the gun range.

  “Hey, watch me,” Deuce said. He was in the next stall, pointing his gun at the target and scrunching up his face in his best Dirty Harry imitation.

  “Just shoot,” Ace chided him. He was standing in a stall next to Deuce.

  Deuce concentrated, took careful aim, and then unloaded his gun at the target. When he finished, Ace took a turn while we watched.

  “What’s going to happen to Vanderkamp and Shepherd?” Willie asked as Ace finished and then retrieved his target.

  I shrugged. “I reported them to the authorities, and they’ll be investigated. I have no idea how long it’ll take, but I’m sure both of them are going to face some serious charges.”

  “And Timur? Did he kill Pete Hinton?”

  “I talked to Spillman and she said he didn’t admit to anything, but the police are investigating him for it. Unless Timur covered his tracks really well, I’m sure they’ll find evidence against him.”

  “Who would’ve thought that body in Tahiti would be tied to us?” Willie said.

  “I’ve seen that kind of thing,” Ace said. “We went on a cruise to Alaska when we were in high school and ran into some friends who we knew when we were little.”

  “Yeah,” Deuce said. “They moved to California when we were in grade school, but then we saw them on that cruise. Weird.”

  Willie smiled. “Coincidences do happen.”