Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection (86 page)

C
HAPTER 15

T
ony Parker woke with the previous night’s dream still fresh in his mind. Again, Julie’s place beside him was empty and cold. The clock radio next to the bed told why. It was seven thirty. Normally, he was in his office by eight. Usually, he woke on his own by six thirty and took his time showering and getting ready for work while Julie fixed him a nice breakfast. He smelled coffee, and bacon and eggs. Maybe Julie wasn’t upset anymore. Maybe all was forgotten, and they’d be back to their old, happy selves again.

“Come on, Nicholas!” Julie’s voice rang out. It was a pleasant sound. “You don’t want to be late for the first day of school, do you? Your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Coming, Mama!” Nick yelled back from his room down the hall.

When Nick’s feet hit the stairway, it sounded as though a centipede were descending the steps rather than a small boy.

Parker rose from bed and took a quick shower. By the time he dressed and went downstairs, Julie was preparing to leave with Audrey in her arms, and Nick waited at the front door, eager to get to school.

Parker caught them on the way out. He kissed Nick on the forehead.

“Have a good day in school, big guy!” he said.

“I will. Bye,” Nick said and ran out the door.

Parker reached and caught Julie on the cheek with a kiss. Julie’s expressionless face made it obvious the cold shoulder was still solidly frozen. He pecked Audrey on the nose.

“There are eggs in the refrigerator if you want to make yourself breakfast,” Julie said and walked out the door.

*-*-*

Parker and Hill checked out the blind man’s house first thing. They looked through the house carefully. For exactly what, they did not know. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—nice, middle-class house, new furniture. Several windows were unlocked, but all with untampered screens. No signs of a struggle. The victim had been found beside his bed, carotid artery ripped, with the dog lying on top.

A picture of the man and his dog sat on the fireplace mantle in the living room. Hill took it down and gazed at it.

“Good looking pair. Too bad,” she said, wiping a thin layer of dust off with her hand.

“Yeah. Got any ideas?” Parker asked, looking over her shoulder.

“I know it isn’t rabies.”

“Now, how do you know that? Women’s intuition?”

“Come on. You don’t think its rabies, either.”

“What the hell is it, then?” Parker asked, taking the picture from Hill’s hands. He slammed it back onto the mantle. “It’s the same MO as with MacGreggor—no motive.” He went to a window and stared out with his hands on his hips. “The dog attacks, unprovoked, and kills its master. Then, it looks to me like it shows remorse. Something’s setting them off, causing them to do things they don’t want to do. But what—and how?”

Hill walked over to Parker. She reached out and gently straightened his collar, then patted it down.

“You got me,” Hill said with a familiar, impish grin. Apparently, her little talk with Julie had done little, if any, good.

Parker felt a strange rush of adrenaline go through his body. A tingling sensation tickled his spine, and goose bumps grew on his arms. His senses seemed heightened. He could smell Sarah’s perfume and it excited him. He gazed into her wanton eyes and watched as she moistened her lips, and noticed the dimple in her half-smiling cheek. Parker could feel his face fill with an excited grin. It was an eager, self-serving, hungry grin. It wasn’t the broad smile a person gives back in kindness; it was a lustful grin with only himself in mind. The look she returned showed incredible surprise
.

This was it. Now was the time. He would have cute, little teasing Sarah. He would have her hot, firm young body. He would take her and feast on her, no holds barred, until
he
was satisfied. No more teasing. He would take control and have
his
way. No one else would know. No one else would find out, and if they did, it didn’t matter. Right now, it
really
didn’t matter because,
right now
, he would have sex with Sarah with no one to please or account to except himself.

Parker reached around her and pulled her body up firmly into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and kissed her long and passionately on the lips. He felt Sarah’s backbone go limp as her body melted in his arms in complete submission. She wrapped her legs tightly around his middle. He pressed his lips increasingly harder against Sarah’s, and she pulled her mouth away with an uncomfortable frown.

“Oh, Tony, I knew there was an animal inside you somewhere,” she said, gasping.

Parker began kissing her hard down the side of the neck, nipping and biting her soft, smooth skin. The scent of her, the fragrance of her perfume mixed with the natural smell of her body, excited him even more. He was a fiery rocket, out of control, burning hotter every second while building speed.

Without looking up, he carried her through the doorway into the dining room and over to the small, round dining table. He dropped her with a thud, not taking care to be gentle, her legs still clenching tightly to his body. He grabbed with both hands and with one tremendous yank, ripped her uniform shirt and bra open, exposing her large, firm breasts.

Hill’s eyes widened with shock. He leaned down and locked mouths with her again, clutching both breasts. He slowly moved his lips back down her neck and rubbed a strong erection up and down in jerks against her crotch. She responded, moving her hips in a slow fluid motion.

“Tony, I never imagined,” she gasped, stroking his thick hair. “I wouldn’t have dreamed!”

He worked down to her breast, still kissing, firmly caressing, nipping, and biting. He put his lips around her nipple and suckled.

“Oh, Tony, yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Oh, yes! Give it to me now. I want you inside of me!”

He continued mouthing her nipple. His nips and bites increased in strength, harder and harder, until he began to taste blood.

“Ewww! Easy, Tony,” she said. “That’s just a bit too hard, baby. I don’t like that.”

I don’t care. I like it!
He didn’t respond but continued, biting harder.

“Tony, I said easy!” she said, this time pleading. “Tony!”

Still, he wouldn’t respond. He didn’t care.

She hit him on the side of the head with the heel of her hand. Parker felt a dull pain in his temple that jarred his head, and he raised, furious his pleasure was interrupted. He looked at her angrily. A string of saliva dripped from the corner of his wet mouth.

Hill glared back. “That’s enough, Tony!”

A noise came from outside the open front door. Footsteps. Parker could hear them, but didn’t care.

“Tony, someone’s coming,” Hill said as she pulled her blouse back together, searching for any buttons still attached.

She grimaced up at Parker, fear covering her face. He stood over her, staring down, panting and eager to resume. He wanted more. He couldn’t stop himself. He yearned to finish what had started. That was all that mattered.

“I said someone’s coming, Tony,” Hill said. She raised her right foot to his stomach and gave him a firm push. “Now, get away!”

“Everything all right in here?” a frowning police officer asked from just inside the front door.

Parker had stumbled back. He stared angrily at the officer from over his shoulder.

Hill peered around Parker as she slipped off the table, still holding her torn blouse. “Yeah, we were just talking.”

“Are you sure about that?” the officer said with his arms folded across his chest.

This intruder agitated Parker, cop or not. If it weren’t for him, he could be with Sarah, having her, humping and groping her body.

Parker spun around and blurted out in a deep, angry voice, “She said, we were just talking. Don’t you understand English?” He felt his face distort in a snarl, eyes bugging. The officer flinched, seeming shocked at the response. Parker saw him look down to Parker’s groin, and he glanced down at himself. His trousers tented at the top of one leg.

“See something you’d like?” Parker asked, looking up slowly with a wicked smile.

“It’s okay, really,” Hill pleaded with the officer. “We’ll be leaving now. Please, it’s okay.”

The officer frowned at both of them briefly, and Parker still stared back, grinning. The cop turned and walked out the door, shaking his head.

Hill whispered urgently, “Damn, Tony, what in the hell got into you?”

There hadn’t been time to answer before a call came over the radio in Parker’s truck.

“Dispatcher to AC One, come in Tony.”

He heard it through the open front door and broke and ran like a quarter horse out of the starting gate. He couldn’t understand what had just happened. It was incredible. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t like that. Sure, there had been times in his life he wished he were, when if he’d been a little more pushy, he’d have gotten his way, gotten what
he
wanted, said what
he
wanted to say. But this was just so foreign, so different from his nature, that it was unbelievable, even to himself. It was as if there was another Tony Parker, a Mr. Hyde, who exposed himself. It was frightening. Especially so, since he had enjoyed being this Mr. Hyde. Would it happen again? If so, would he be able to return to the person he really was? Would he want to?

As he bolted out the door, Parker noticed a familiar minivan driving by. He stopped instantly in the middle of the sidewalk and stood as close to at attention as he had been since the Marines.

Julie’s minivan. She had seen him, most likely recognizing the truck first, then saw him fly from the house. She was probably on the way back home with a carload of groceries. Julie’s window was down, and she had either forgotten her anger, and his sudden appearance hadn’t given her time to remember, or she had decided she’d been mad long enough. She smiled, waved, and opened her mouth as she began to speak, driving slowly. Her cheerful look transformed abruptly into a scowl, and her mouth slammed shut. She looked past him.

Parker turned to see Sarah Hill on the porch, fumbling with the front of her blouse, lipstick smeared, hair ruffled. He imagined the same lipstick was smeared on his face, and he put the back of his hand up to his mouth and wiped it across his mug. He looked back at Julie, seeing now she also noticed his still tented pants.

Julie roared off, forcing the old white minivan to give all it had.

Parker stomped over to the driver’s side of the truck and picked up the microphone. There was no way he could explain this to Julie. He didn’t even understand it himself.

“Dispatch, this is Parker. Go ahead,” he puffed, leaning in the driver’s side door.

“Looks like another dog attack, Top Dog, but this one’s in progress.”

“Where, Tyrone?” he asked, opening the door.

“11503 W. Kennedy.”

“Okay, we’re on our way.” He passed the handset around the window frame. “Is it a black Great Dane?”

“Don’t know, man. The caller was just a kid, all he said was that a dog was hurting some girl named Cindy.”

“All right, we’re about three minutes away.” Parker jumped into the Jimmy. Hill trotted up on the other side. “Call Lt. Simpson and get him out there. Remind him we’d like to take this one alive,” Parker said, pulling the truck door shut.

“Gotcha, Top Dog.”

“I hope it’s Jezebel!” Parker said to Hill as she climbed in. He hung up the handset, started the truck and turned on the lights.

“Are you kidding?” Hill said. Her voice was strained. “I pray it isn’t!”

CHAPTER 16

S
arah Hill was quiet on the way to the call. Parker took a quick glance at her as he steered out of a corner. She had fixed her blouse back to where it looked surprisingly good, considering it was missing two buttons, and she proceeded to touch up her makeup and lipstick as the truck jostled and swayed down the streets. Except for her unusual silence, it was as if nothing had happened. He was glad his bite had not been bad enough to cause blood to soak through her bra and blouse. Still, he knew the damage he’d caused was more than superficial. When Parker understood, himself, what had come over him, he’d be better able to apologize.

Parker stood on the brake in front of the caller’s house and jumped out, immediately running to the tailgate and opening it. Hill climbed up on one knee and grabbed the control stick, a pole with a thin rope attached to slip over an uncooperative animal’s neck, and she handed it to Parker. She pulled the tranquilizer rifle off a rack on the side and hopped out.

“You back me up,” Parker said, and turned to run up to the chalk white, saltbox house.

Just then, a small boy of about seven came running out from the side, screaming as if death were his shadow. His face was flushed and dirty and streaked with tears.

Parker could see the boy was apparently unharmed as he ran to him. He knelt down and grabbed him by the arms.

“Where’s the dog? Is Cindy all right?”

“They’re back there,” the boy cried, pointing to the back yard. “He’s hurting her!”

“Stay here, kid. Come on!” Parker snapped to Hill. “Get that thing ready.”

Hill cocked the rifle and clicked the safety off.

There was whining as they came around the corner. Parker stopped short when he saw what was happening, and Hill ran into the back of him. Two dogs stood tail to tail, locked together: a female collie and a large male cur, who was whining in obvious discomfort. The dogs seemed startled by their intrusion and looked up at them in surprise.

“Cindy, you run-a-round bitch!” Hill said, relaxing the tension in her body and putting one hand on her hip. “Well, now that you got your man, don’t let him go.”

“Shit!” Parker said, lowering the stick.

“Do something, do something, he’s hurting her!” the boy screamed at them, coming up from behind.

Parker cringed. “In the position they’re in, I’d say he’s the one being hurt.”

“You better explain it to him, Tony,” Hill said.

“Why don’t you? You seem to know more about this kind of thing.”

Parker’s sharp words apparently cut deep, and he wished he could take them back, especially considering what had just happened at the blind man’s house.

“Me?” she said. “What is it with you, Tony?”

Hill glared and then turned to the boy, bending down and holding his arms. “It’s okay. Cindy’s just playing with her boyfriend.”

The boy looked at his dog, tears still rolling down his cheeks. Hill pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his tears. “Sometimes when they play like this, the girl dog has puppies a couple of months later,” she added.

“Wow, really?” the boy said in glee. He ran over to hug the collie.

“You’d better leave them alone for a while, son,” Parker said. “They’ll be done
playing
after a bit.” He turned to the male. “You got yourself into this, you get yourself out.”

The male whined back.

“Hey, young man, why aren’t you in school?” Parker asked.

“I missed the bus because of Cindy,” the boy answered. “Mom and Dad are at work.”

A blaring siren and a screech from around the front of the house indicated Simpson had arrived. Hill and Parker walked up to meet him as he ran into the yard. Parker smiled at Simpson, but Hill jumped in to comment first.

“Hey, Simpson, you heard the one about the young Indian brave that went to his father one day and asked how he and his brothers got their names?”

“Huh, what’s going on?” he said, trying to get around Hill.

“The father said, ‘
Uhg
, when first brother born, I look out teepee and see eagle soaring in sky. I name him Soaring Eagle,’” Hill said in a deep voice, backing up with her arms blocking Simpson’s advance.

“Come on, what’s going on?” Simpson said, frustrated.

“‘When next brother born, I look out and see elk leaping over bush. I name him Leaping Elk.’”

“Come on, Sarah, let me by! What the hell is going on?” He broke away from her and ran frantically around the corner of the house and stopped wide-eyed, mouth agape, hand on his holstered revolver.

Hill continued, “Then the old Indian looks to his son and asks, ‘Why you ask.…’”

“Two Dogs Screwing!” Simpson finished the punch line.

Hill raised her eyebrows. “Oh, did Doc White Cloud already tell you that one?” she asked.

It was like Hill to relieve a tense situation with humor.

“Did Doc really tell you that?” Parker asked, somewhat surprised that Doc would be so crass with a woman.

“Yeah, but I had to tell him a couple real juicy ones of my own, first.”

Hill seemed to have at least temporarily forgiven Parker. She was the type that bounced back quick. Parker could imagine what kind of jokes she’d told Doc.

“I think we’ve had a couple too many false alarms, ol’ buddy,” Parker said putting his arm around Simpson’s shoulders.

“You ain’t a shittin’,” Simpson agreed as they walked back to the curb.

“Anything new?” Parker asked.

“Nothing except ol’ man MacGreggor’s nephew is in town, and I’m supposed to meet him at the house in twenty minutes to let him inside.”

“Let’s go!” Parker said anxiously. “Sarah, have the dispatcher call the kid’s mother and tell her what happened. Then take him to school, will you?” He jumped into the front seat of Simpson’s car and waved without looking back.

When Simpson and Parker arrived at the MacGreggor place, MacGreggor’s nephew, Daryl Bailey, was already there, waiting. He appeared around thirty years old and had a shock of red hair and ears that stuck out like cup handles. Parker couldn’t help but think of how the man had an uncanny resemblance to an old television personality. He looked eager to get into the house—maybe too eager. The next-door neighbor, Mrs. Crane, had told them MacGreggor and his nephew weren’t on the best of terms, and there wasn’t anything in the house of any value except the stereo system.

After being warned not to touch anything because of the possibility of rabies, the man rushed inside and straight for the basement steps. Simpson and Parker waited outside the door.

Simpson waved to two cops in a patrol car across the street, then looked back in the house.

“Shit, Tony, look at that!” Simpson exclaimed, pointing to the back door thirty-five feet away.

New wood was exposed on the door of the dog port and on the sides. It had been broken. Parker and Simpson hustled inside and to the back of the house.

“Tony,” Simpson said, standing beside Parker and looking around the house cautiously, “do you think she’s in here?”

“Easy Jack, this was broken going out. Anyway, if she were still here, our new Howdy-Doody-looking friend would have been screaming by now.”

“Probably just some kid—you think?”

“Yeah, well, don’t count on it,” Parker said. He pinched hair from the splintered wood and brought it up to Simpson’s face. “Unless that kid has short black hair.”

Simpson stared at the dog fur between Parker’s fingers. “And we’ve had this place under surveillance the whole time.”

“Well, you’d better have the port fixed. A little stronger. Maybe some bigger screws. And make sure your men have their shit together this time.”

Simpson frowned back as the nephew came up the stairs with the shoebox lid in his hand and a sour look on his face.

“What happened to the box?” the man asked.

“What was in the box?” Parker asked.

“Don’t play games with me. It’s rightfully mine. I’m the only heir,” Bailey said back.

“The box was gone when we got here,” Simpson said. “Now what was in it?”

“Over five hundred thousand, last I counted. But that was more than five years ago,” he said, looking down at the box lid. “I want to talk to the first bastard cop on the scene. He’s probably the thieving son-of-a-bitch that took it.”

“You’re speaking to him,” Simpson said.

“You?”

“Yeah, I was the first ‘thieving son-of-a-bitch’ at the scene—that lived, that is.”

“Where’d the money come from?” Parker asked.

“Life insurance on Aunt Rose.”

“How’d you know about it?”

“I found it one day when he told me to feed the dogs. He caught me counting it.”

“Before you could take it?” Parker asked, his stare cold, his voice flat.

“What do ya mean by that?” Bailey said, throwing the lid to the floor and drawing his fingers to a fist.

Parker could feel the hair on the back of his neck raise and a breath-taking rush of adrenaline shot through his body. A nervous, broad grin forced itself across his face.

“I mean,” Parker answered, his hands also balling to fists, “I don’t know you, but for some reason, I already don’t like you. As far as I’m concerned, you could in some way be involved in your uncle’s death!”

Bailey turned to Simpson. “What in the hell is this dog catcher doing, accusing me? Is he some kind of undercover cop or something? Because if he isn’t, you’d better get him the hell out of my face!”

Parker stepped closer to him, nearly nose to nose, his jaw clenched.

“Back off, Tony,” Simpson said, wedging between the two and shoving them apart. “Now, let’s cool down. What can you tell us about the dogs?”

Bailey backed up two steps. He took a deep breath and glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Parker before looking to Simpson. “What can you say about dogs?” he said. “I hated them. I guess they knew it, too. They growled whenever I got near them. They were like any other dogs as far as I know, just a hell of a lot bigger.”

“You were afraid of them?” Simpson asked.

“No, not really. I knew they wouldn’t bite me or anything. They never acted aggressive like that. They just got off growling at me, like my uncle did.”

“We’ll let you know if any money comes up,” Simpson said.

“It’d better,” Bailey said. He looked toward the back of the house. “I’m sure there’s no reason for me looking through the rest of the place. You bastards probably ransacked everything. Every loose dime is most likely in some cop’s pocket.” He turned and walked out the door, shaking his head.

Simpson and Parker followed him out and watched until he got into his car.

“What the hell got into you?” Simpson asked.

“You saw the jerk,” Parker said, as they walked to the car. “He didn’t care a bit about his uncle. All he wanted was his money. Then he did everything but accuse you of stealing it. He’s the most likely suspect for that.”

“You know that doesn’t make sense. He was hundreds of miles away. And if he had stolen it, he wouldn’t have said anything about it, or even showed up here for that matter.”

“Okay, you’re right. But this changes everything, don’t you see? Two dogs, probably not rabid, attack and kill three men for no apparent reason. One dog is missing and so is half a million dollars! Doesn’t that sound a little suspicious to you?”

“Come on, Tony, don’t jump to conclusions. The old man probably spent it over the past five years,” Simpson said, getting into the car. “Get in. I’ll take you to your office.”

“Spent it on what, dog food and CDs? And now, we have another man dead and one dying. And what about that pack of dogs in the park? There’s human involvement somehow. This
TP
thing means something.” Parker looked at Simpson with a scowl. “Now don’t start on me about it somehow meaning me. It doesn’t.” Parker opened the passenger’s side of Simpson’s car and slipped in. “Somewhere out there is a murderer and thief, and a very dangerous dog!”