Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection (88 page)

CHAPTER 19

T
ricia Carpenter ran up and onto the front porch of her grandparents’ house, screaming, “Grandy! Grammy! Butch is hurting Jimmy!”

She burst through the screen door and swung it wide, allowing it to bang shut behind her. She stopped in the front hallway when she saw Grandy.

Fifteen feet away, he lay on his back in the middle of the living room floor with Dawg and three other of the local mutts tearing at his guts through his wide open belly. His throat lay open. He didn’t move.

Tricia stared. The dogs fed in a frenzy and hadn’t noticed her or even paid attention to the slam of the screen door.

Dawg seemed to enjoy his fresh kill, but he stopped and raised his head as if thinking. Fear paralyzed Tricia.
He’s thinking about me. He’s wondering where me and Raggedy Ann are!

Dawg sniffed the air and slowly turned his head. He looked back at Tricia and licked his snout. The other dogs stopped their enthusiastic feeding and raised their heads to glare at Tricia, as if in tune with Dawg’s thoughts. Tricia stared back.

A bloody arm swathed across Tricia’s body and swung her around toward the door.

“Run, Tricia,
run
!” came a frantic voice.

Tricia ran the two steps to the door without recognizing the blood-covered arm and desperate voice. She stopped and turned.

It was Grammy. The blood wasn’t just on her arm. It covered her face and matted her hair. Large gashes crossed her cheek and forehead and arms. Ripped flesh hung in a flap on her left leg.

She looked at Tricia with teary eyes. Her arms and body shook convulsively, and her lips trembled. “Run, Tricia,” she said again. This time her voice came out in a cracking whisper, and she turned to face the dogs as they attacked.

Tricia ran out the door, and it slapped shut again. She stopped at the foot of the porch steps, unsure of where to go. The mysterious white van went by slowly as she stood there, panting, shaking. The black pirate inside smiled broadly at her as he drove. He waved.

Tricia looked up and down the street. Confusion reigned everywhere she looked. People running. People screaming. People being run down by dogs. Many of the dogs had already made their kills and were feeding. Growls and barks came from far and near. She heard them coming from the Lawrence’s house next door through their open living room window. She heard the dogs inside her grandparent’s house, heard Grammy screaming and wailing.

Tears poured from Tricia’s eyes. She wished she could help Grammy, but she didn’t know what to do. She held her doll so tightly that she was nearly twisting it apart.

A sound caught Tricia’s ears, different from the barks and screams and growls and yells going on around her. A
meow
. She looked up into the large elm shading the front yard and saw Little Pussy on its usual limb. She understood how it felt but realized the kitten was much safer than she was right now. But she couldn’t climb the tree. The lowest branch was way over her head.

Tricia turned and ran around the side of the house once again. She ran toward the old garage where the skunk had been captured and up to the hasp on the door. She tried to push the large bolt out of the hasp, but it was fitted too tightly. She pushed and pushed, grunting desperately, but still, it would not budge.

She finally gave up and turned back to the front yard. Several dogs ran by, but none noticed her. A bark came from the front yard. It sounded like Dawg. He must have finished with Grammy. Now he would be coming for her!

Tricia raced frantically into the back yard toward the old swing set. But then, a hole caught her eye. A dark hole. A place to hide. She didn’t think about what it was. She only thought about it being a place to get out of sight.

She fell to her knees, crawled in and scampered to the back. Through the opening she saw Dawg come around the corner of the house and pause, sniffing the air. Two more dogs trotted around the house and stopped behind Dawg. They all sniffed.

Tricia huddled in the dark shadow at the back of the hole, looking straight at the dogs. She tried to quiet her trembling breath, and she held Raggedy Ann up to her lips. Only then did she realize where she was. She hid in an old wooden crate. The old wooden crate used as Dawg’s doghouse! She gasped.

The dogs jerked their heads in reaction.

C
HAPTER 20

P
arker took Nick home after the incident. Even after being assured what he had seen was just a piece of plastic and not a man-killing dog, his son still could not get over the shakes. Parker thought the best place for him would be in his own bed.

“What happened?” Julie asked. Worry filled her eyes as she stood in the front doorway watching Tony carry her six-year-old son up the walk to the steps. “Is Nick all right?” She reached out to him

“Yeah, he’s all right,” Parker said. “Nothing to be worried about. He just got a little scared, that’s all.”

“Scared? Of what? Are you sure he’s not hurt?” she asked, holding the storm door back and stroking Nick’s forehead as they passed.

Nick began crying uncontrollably and stretched out and latched onto his mother. “Mamma, Mamma, she’s going to eat me, and she’s gonna get Daddy, too!”

“Oh sweetheart, nobody’s going to eat you,” she told him as she rubbed his back. “It’s all right.”

Julie and Tony sat on the couch, staring at each other for a long moment, as Julie held Nick on her lap.

Tony knew a lot was on Julie’s mind, but she held it back in consideration of her son’s trauma.

“The kids were all out on the playground, and they thought they saw Jezebel in the park across the street,” Tony said. “It turned out to be a piece of black plastic.”

Julie looked back at Tony skeptically. She rose from the couch and started up the stairs to Nick’s bedroom.

“Nothing happened with me and Sarah,” Parker said to Julie’s back. “At least not what you think. I’d like to explain.”

He watched them go up the stairs. Julie said nothing.

Parker called his office to let them know he would be on call at home the rest of the day. He then went to the kitchen cabinets, pulled out a fifth of W. L. Weller’s and poured out half a glass over a handful of ice cubes. Drinking in the middle of the afternoon wasn’t a habit of his. In fact, the bottle hadn’t been touched since Jack and Sadie had been over for the evening three weeks ago. Parker needed something to calm his nerves. He knew the whiskey wouldn’t help, but it seemed like the thing to do. Nick’s shakes had been contagious, and Parker had caught a severe case himself. He felt chilled, yet feverish, again.

Parker sat back in his easy chair and stared out the big picture window. This Jezebel thing was out of control. It was personal, now. The solution to this problem evaded him. All thirteen of his field officers worked double shifts, looking for this phantom of a hound. He was on call twenty-four hours and, except for tonight, would also be working double shifts. The police were on the watch for the beast, and every citizen in town, in the state, seemed to be aware of her. He could do nothing but wait. She would turn up soon. She had to.

This thing with Sarah had to be dealt with, too. He didn’t look forward to explaining it to Julie. This time, he wouldn’t lie. The truth about this fix he was in had to come out—for Julie—for himself. He wondered how she would react to any explanation, let alone the vague, confused one he had—if she’d even listen.

Parker’s stomach churned. His head began to throb. This little flu bug sure didn’t help any, if that was what it was. Maybe he should take some medicine. No, that wouldn’t mix with the alcohol.

Parker sat, staring at nothing for the better part of half an hour before Julie came back down the stairs. She walked over to Tony’s chair, sat down on the arm and gazed into his eyes, like she had many times before when she was worried or puzzled and looked to Tony for the answer. He saw her look at the drink in his hand, now empty except for a teaspoon of tainted water in the bottom.

“How’s Nick?” Tony asked, turning his head away.

“I think he’s all right, now. He’s asleep. Now, tell me, what’s going on?” she asked, taking the glass from his hand and setting it on the lamp stand nearby.

“It’s pure paranoia,” he answered. “The whole town is caught up in it. All because of that damned Haskins!” He knew the name
Haskins
had stuck a dagger in both of their hearts as soon as he spat it out. “Everyone is afraid of a dog that is probably lying dead somewhere by now.”

“Why do you think she’s dead?”

“That’s the only way a dog like that could get by, loose, in this city without being discovered. If she has rabies, she’s probably dead.”

Tony’s assumption had not convinced Julie, or himself. He got up from the chair and walked over to the window, still looking away.

“I’m working double shifts until this is over. That includes this weekend,” he said.

“Surely, it will be over by the weekend, won’t it? We promised Mom and Dad we’d come up. They were counting on it. We haven’t seen them for a long time.” Her voice lacked emotion. He was surprised she still planned on them going together after this morning.

“I don’t know if it will or not.”

“Well, if it isn’t, we’ll go anyway. You need a break. We need a break.”

“No, I can’t. This is my job. It’s what I get paid for. When something like this comes up, I can’t just leave.”

“That’s bullshit, Tony, and you know it! You’re going to quit in a few months, anyway. Is it because you want to stay here—or because you just don’t want to see Dad?”

The pause in her question consciously left out two words:
with Sarah
.

“Get real, will you? I’ve got a job to do, and I’m going to do it. Besides, your dad would probably rather go fishing with Haskins.”

Tony didn’t apologize this time, but he wished he could. He turned to see Julie’s backside leave the room for the kitchen. He could hear Julie open a cabinet and then turn on the faucet, pouring herself a glass of tap water.

It surprised him she hadn’t said anything about Sarah. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had thrown him out, knowing what she had seen. He knew that when she did let her feelings out there would be one hell of a confrontation. It could mean losing his family. Divorce. Maybe that was why she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she knew a divorce was inevitable when she said her piece—that she wanted to hold on for as long as she could, hoping she’d discover some other explanation for what she saw but was afraid to learn the truth. Tony hoped, somehow, she could hold on forever.

“Oh, I’ll be home tonight, so you can go to your aerobics class,” he said loud enough for her to hear in the next room. Julie had been teaching the evening aerobics class three nights a week at a health club downtown over the summer. Tonight was the last night—a makeup night for when Julie had been down with a bad cold and no one was able to sub for her.

“I’m not going, not with Nick like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You said he’s all right. I’ll be here.”

“For some reason, that doesn’t assure me very much,” Julie sneered as she walked back through the room and up the stairs toward the children’s rooms.

Tony felt a hot flash and a burning on his neck. “Now, what in the hell do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know. I just said it, okay?” she said and disappeared.

“No, it’s not
okay
!” Tony roared. He hated it when Julie walked away in the middle of an unresolved argument. Not that there was a resolution. Parker didn’t even understand why they were arguing.

His mind was fuzzy. He felt light-headed and didn’t know why. He hadn’t had that much to drink. Maybe the flu. He thought of it and tried to remember what had set them off. It clouded his mind and was confusing to think about. He went back to the kitchen cabinet and took out the bottle of Weller’s. This time he grabbed a large tumbler, filled it with ice and brought both glass and bottle back to his chair.

Several hours had passed, and Parker realized he was staring out at early evening shadows. He gripped the half-full, iceless tumbler, still in a daze. The bottle lay empty on the floor. Yankee had knocked it off the lamp stand when Parker let him in for some understanding companionship. Paper towels still soaked up the booze on the large spot where it had spilled.

Parker felt Julie’s presence and turned to look at her, Yankee doing the same. Julie came down the stairs and stood at the foot. She had that disgusted look on her face. She wore her aerobics outfit, and he looked at her through unfocused eyes. Even through his alcohol-blurred eyes, she was a vision to behold. He liked the way her tight outfit caressed her body. The pink and green top accented her bust, and her light brown hair was back in a ponytail. It reminded him of the way she had looked in high school. The argument had long since left his fuzzy brain, and he smiled at her.

“Oh, this is just great, you—shit head!” she said with her hands on her hips, the previous confrontation, obviously, still fresh in her mind. “Now, I suppose you’re drunk.”

He frowned, trying to look sober and serious. “No, I’m all right. I thought you weren’t going tonight.”

“I changed my mind, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” Tony said sheepishly. He knew he was in trouble and was having a hard time discerning for what. His best defense was to go along with everything Julie said. “You can go. I’m fine,” he said as the hand he leaned on slipped, making his head bob.

“It’s not you I’m worried about—shit head!”

Parker frowned again, wishing for a different nickname. Julie walked over to Tony’s side, and he watched her every step. She picked up the half-full tumbler and walked swiftly to the kitchen with it. He

heard the whiskey pouring down the drain.

“What happens if Audrey needs changed? Can you do it?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Okay, but you’d better not screw up. You get in here right now and drink some coffee. If you need anything, the health club’s number is by the phone. I just fed and changed Audrey, and Nick is still sleeping.” Julie came back through the living room and grabbed her purse off the coat-closet doorknob. “I should be home by a quarter after ten.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve done this before,” Tony said smiling.

“Yeah, but you’ve never done it drunk, shit head.”

“I’m not drunk, and I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“It’s the only name that fits, right now,” she said. “You two deserve each other.”

Tony blinked for a moment, thinking at first Julie meant he and Sarah. He looked at Yankee and noticed the stupid, puzzled, intoxicated look on his face—the natural look the dog had been born with.

“Now, get your butt in the kitchen and make yourself some coffee. I’ve got to go or I’ll be late.” She walked to the front door. “Oh, and darling,” she said with a gentle change of voice.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Tony answered back, surprised at the pleasant tone.

“Don’t burn the house down—shit head!” she said and slammed the door.

The coffee seemed to help sober Parker some. After two and a half cups, he fell asleep in his chair with the TV on and Yankee by his side.