Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (91 page)

“Stay here,” he grunted through clinched teeth.

“No way.”

“You’re not coming in.”

“You can’t stop me.”

He nodded. He knew she was right.

He shoved himself away from the car and hobbled towards the
hotel entrance.

The clerk looked up as he came in. “Can I help you?” she asked,
as she saw the pronounced limp. “Are you okay?” she added.

He smiled through the pain. “Doin’ great. Hey, what room is Kent
Fonck in? One-fifty-three?”

He saw the girl glance over at the computer screen. Her head
snapped back. “I’m not to disclose that information.”

“It’s just to keep me from calling again. All you got to do is
tell me if I remembered the number correctly.”

The girl tapped a key on the keyboard and glanced back at the
screen. “I don’t see him here. Are you sure you’ve got the right hotel?”

“I’m sure. How about his brother, Bill? Same last name.”

The girl shook her head and her black hair bounced around her
shoulders. “I don’t have anyone here by the name of Fonck.”

“Well, who rented one-fifty-three? Bill Kent?”

“No, sir. Um, maybe I should call the manager for you.”

He could hear the siren of a police car and figured that Cooper
was getting close. Suddenly the siren was turned off and he nodded to himself.
The officer knew he was getting near enough that the siren could probably be
heard. He had shut it off and they would arrive in seconds.

“Will you tell the police?”

“If they were here,” the girl replied with too much sarcasm for
his taste.

With his thumb, he pointed over his shoulder at the door.
“They’re right here.”

He heard brakes squeal in the parking lot. The eyes of the girl
standing in front of him got really big. She started punching numbers into the
computer as Cooper and the deputy burst through the front doors.

“Confirm that room yet?” Cooper asked as he crossed the foyer.

“Still working on it,” he answered.

The girl behind the computer looked up. “Room one-fifty-three
was rented to Doug Sanderson.”

Bowden recognized the name and tried to remember where.

Cooper paused in mid-stride. “Who?”

The girl repeated the name much more meekly, “Doug Sanderson?”

Cooper looked at him. “Are you still sure about that number?”

He ran his fingers over the stubble on his chin. “Yeah. He’s
related.” He felt a chill climb the skin between his shoulder blades as he
remembered the night in the rain. Doug Sanderson was the tow truck driver.

He locked eyes with Cooper. “He’s Kay’s cousin.”

16

Bowden checked out the deputy who was with Cooper. The guy had a
crew cut and massive forearms. He wore his gun in a holster on the side of his
thigh instead of at his waist. Swat team members usually did this. This cop
would hold up okay.

“Here’s what we know,” Bowden said, needing to fill in the
deputy and provide Cooper with a little more information. “Michelle Fonck is
being held in that room against her will. There is at least one guy in there
with her, maybe two. I took a gun off one of them earlier this morning, but he
got away. They may have more weapons in the room.”

He pointed to a map on the wall beside the check-in counter that
showed the locations of all the rooms. “It’s on the first floor, second from
the end.”

Cooper glanced at the map. “Got it. You take the back.”

Bowden’s mouth fell open.

Cooper spoke again before Bowden could complain. “I’m going
through the front door with a uniform, per department policy. You watch the
back.”

“That’s not…”

“You’ve got no say in it. If you want to help, you’ll cover the
back window.”

“Then I’ve got sanction?”

“What? Well, yes.”

Bowden grinned. “Give me thirty seconds to get around back.”

Tara grabbed his arm as he turned. “What about me?”

He pointed at Cooper. “He’s calling the shots,” he said, glad
that he didn’t have to tell Tara to wait in the lobby.

Cooper glanced at Tara and scratched his ear. “Wait at the far
end of the hallway. If we need you, we can beckon you in.”

Tara nodded agreeably and Bowden marveled at Cooper’s ability to
put Tara in a safe spot and tell her to wait, in such a way that she thought
she could be helping.

“Thirty seconds,” Cooper said as he glanced at his watch.

Chase turned towards the door when Cooper yelled, “Hey! Take
this with you.”

He stepped back as he saw his Glock in Cooper’s hand. He reached
out and palmed the gun. The familiar weight and balance told him instantly that
the gun was fully loaded. He pulled the slide back a fraction of an inch and
noticed that there was a round in the chamber. That was the way he always
carried it because he didn’t want to have to rack a round before using the gun.
That extra split second might cost him his life.

He nodded his thanks to Cooper and loped around the hotel as
fast as his injured legs would carry him. A sidewalk ran along the back of the
hotel rooms, providing about five feet of room between the building and a row
of parking. Beyond the parking lot was a bank of trees that were probably
eighty years old. The bushes along the front of the bank had been cut.

He stopped outside the second set of windows. A heavy curtain
had been drawn inside to keep anyone from looking in. He stepped between two
parked cars, then stood near the front bumpers and just off the sidewalk. He
held the gun at low ready, pointing it at the base of the building, just under
the window. Taking a deep breath, he waited for Cooper.

The window was closed and latched and Bowden knew that the
chance of anyone getting out of it before Cooper and the deputy got in was
practically zero. He figured the only chance he would come into play was if
shooting started and there was more than one person inside.

He heard the doorframe shatter, and Cooper yell, “Police.”

The curtain moved and the glass window shattered as a body
smashed through it. The glass showered onto the pavement and someone fought to
escape the envelopment of the curtain. He could see the room clearly as the
early morning light flooded in. In a split second he saw Michelle lying on the
bed, covered only with a sheet, and that Cooper and the deputy were moving in
quickly.

He stepped up and used his good leg to kick the form in the
curtain. His foot connected solidly and someone grunted, then started swearing.
It was a man’s voice, and Bowden kicked him again. The man was on his hands and
knees, trying to stand and trying to get the tangled curtains off him. His
second kick caught the man in the ribs and knocked him onto his side.

“Don’t move,” Bowden screamed as he stepped sideways, his heart
pounding.

He kept moving around the downed man, who kept cursing him. He
couldn’t tell if the man was armed or not. He couldn’t see his hands. The man continued
to flail at the curtain.

“Don’t move,” he shouted again, stepping around to the other
side of the figure. He delivered another kick to punctuate his command.

The man took the kick and rolled over again. The last movement
rolled him out from under the curtain, and Bowden recognized Bill Fonck. This
was the man who had followed Andre from his house to his work.

“Clear!” someone shouted from inside the room.

Bowden crouched about five feet from Bill, and pointed the gun
at his head. Slowly, Bill’s hands came up. He was dressed in a white t-shirt,
socks and jockey underwear. The back of the shirt was already soaking up the
cold water on the sidewalk.

“Roll over,” Bowden commanded.

Bill rolled free from the curtain, landing face down in a
puddle. Bowden smiled. This time he was having fun. He backed up to the
shattered window and held out his left hand, not taking his gun off his
suspect.

The deputy dropped a set of cuffs into Bowden’s waiting palm. “I
got him covered,” the deputy said.

He glanced over and saw the deputy level his gun on Bill’s back.
He nodded and stuffed his Glock into his waistband and realized that Kent’s gun
was still there. He knelt over Bill and fastened the handcuffs around his
wrists.

He glanced up at the deputy in the window. “Bring the car
around.” The deputy nodded and left.

Bowden touched Kent’s gun with his fingers and wondered what
would happen to Bill if he slid the gun under the curtain. He decided that it would
be too difficult to explain if the police dug the bullet out of the wall in the
Miller house and did ballistics on it matching it to Kent’s gun.

 A moment later he stuffed Bill Fonck into the back of the
patrol car. While the deputy was reading Fonck the Miranda Warning, he walked
back to the room.

Cooper met him in the doorway. “We’ve got a small problem here.”

He looked past Cooper. Tara was sitting on the bed beside
Michelle, who was wrapped in the sheets and crying on her shoulder.

“What’s the problem?”

“Apparently these guys threw Michelle’s clothes away. I guess
they thought it would dissuade her from running away.”

 “I’ll drive her up to the house and she can get dressed in
some of Tara’s clothes.” He stepped around Cooper and asked, “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know yet. She hasn’t said anything. She’s just been
sitting there crying.” He put his hand on Bowden’s arm. “I thought we would
give them a little time together. Maybe she’ll feel like talking soon.”

Bowden shrugged off Cooper’s hand and walked into the room. He
squatted down in front of Michelle and looked up into her red, swollen eyes. He
assumed the non-threatening position for a reason, but the cramp in his leg
forced him to stand up and shake off the pain and then take one knee in front of
the traumatized girl.

“How you doing, Michelle?”

She glanced down at him.

“Are you hurt?”

She sniffed and shook her head and started crying again. She
buried her head in Tara’s shoulder.

He placed his hand on her knee to get her attention back. She flinched
and Bowden felt the muscles in his jaw tighten.

“Did they touch you?”

Michelle let out a loud sob and snuggled closer to Tara. He
jumped to his feet and stared out the window at the patrol car. He balled his
hands into tight fists and suddenly wished he had been rougher on the bastard
in the back seat of the car.

“Did Bill touch you?” he asked quietly.

Michelle shook her head.

“Kent?”

She nodded.

“Doug? Was Doug here too?”

She looked up at him. “I don’t know who the other man was. Kent
pushed the sheets over my face so I couldn’t see.”

He felt Cooper give him a nudge and knew that Cooper wanted him
to continue the questioning now that a rapport had been established, and
Michelle was willing to talk.

“How do you know it was someone else?”

“His voice was different, older. He was heavier and… and… he
smelled like oil; like maybe a mechanic.”

“Okay. But not Bill? You’re sure Bill didn’t touch you?”

Michelle shook her head. “I don’t know. It happened so many
times.”

She burst into tears and turned back to Tara. Bowden knew the
conversation was over. He glanced at Tara and saw tears on the older girl’s
cheeks. Bowden pulled at his chin and looked over at Cooper.

“Do you want to call SAU?”

Cooper nodded, his eyes locked on the floor.

“Maybe you should have a talk with that deputy…”

“Zill.”

“About taping off the crime scene.”

Cooper nodded as Bowden walked past him. When Bowden reached the
patrol car, Zill stepped out and shut the door.

“Cooper wants to see you inside. Take some tape if you have it.”

Zill opened the trunk and walked into the hotel. Bowden watched
him until he was out of sight, and then he bent down and tore a piece of the
curtain free and used it to pick up a piece of glass. He opened the back door
and looked in at Bill.

“I need some answers and we’ve only got a couple minutes.”
Bowden held the piece of glass up for Bill to see.

“What’s that for?” Bill asked. Sweat formed at the hairline on
his forehead.

“You already have several cuts from diving through the window.
They are minor, and we didn’t call the paramedics because we missed some of the
more major ones.” Bowden turned the shard of glass so that Bill could see the
sharp point on it. “Puncture wounds are hard to evaluate at the scene.”

“You can’t touch me,” Bill said smugly, a wide grin spreading
over his face.

Bowden smiled back. “I’m not a cop.”

He drove his left fist into the taunting smile. Bill’s head
snapped back from the impact and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

He saw the light in Bill’s eyes dim and knew that he had won.

Bill spoke hesitantly. “What, uh, do you want to know?”

“Did you touch that girl?”

“No. Honest.” Bill shook his head vigorously.

“You want me to believe that you just sat and watched?”

“No. I… Kent would send me out for food. He’d tell me to take my
time. At least thirty minutes, sometimes an hour.”

“Was Doug Sanderson with him?”

“I never saw Doug.”

He lifted Bill’s t-shirt and exposed his soft, white side. He
stuck the sharp pointed of the glass into the skin, and Bill squealed.

“I swear! I swear! I never saw Doug. If he came in, it was after
I left.”

He turned the glass shard ninety degrees and it ripped open the
skin. A drop of blood formed around the point. He pressed slightly and the
droplet grew until it was heavy enough to break free and run down Bill’s side.
The waistband of his underwear soaked up the blood.

“Who killed Adam?”

“Kent! It was Kent!”

“Last question. How is Doug involved?”

“He isn’t.”

“He paid for your room.”

Bill was silent for several seconds. Bowden could see that Bill
was going to say something else, so he waited.

“Maybe Kent stole his credit card. Doug’s not involved.”

Bill’s gaze dropped down and to the right, so that Bowden knew
he was lying. It answered his question just as well as if Bill had told the
truth. Doug was involved in some way.

He released Bill’s t-shirt and it soaked up the blood that had
been trickling down his side. He dropped the piece of glass and the torn scrap
of the curtain back onto the pile as he shut the door of the patrol car.

He leaned against the door and thought about what he had learned
in the last few minutes. From where he was, he could see Tara still sitting on
the edge of the bed and holding Michelle. It made his stomach turn as he
thought about what had been going on in that room, the girl being raped by her
cousin and her uncle. He shook his head and sighed. He wasn’t use to these
kinds of cases. He’d hunt terrorists and spies any day.

He took a step closer to the window and realized that it wasn’t
the type of case that bothered him, it was seeing the victims. In his cases
with the CIA, the government was the victim. Now he was dealing with
individuals. He realized that it was Michelle’s pain and Tara’s pain that he
sympathized with. It made him uncomfortable to the point of feeling sick.

Deputy Zill walked around the corner of the hotel and up to his
car. He glanced into the back seat and saw the blood on Bill’s face and on the
white shirt. He looked over at Bowden and nodded once before sliding into the
front seat.