Chapter 13 – Curiosity Doesn't Just Kill. It Murders.
His Norton rumbled as he pulled up to his planned parking spot in front of a vacant house around the corner from Lassie's house.
Gus' car was always better at being inconspicuous (Yeah he knew big words, too). His precious motorcycle on the other hand was an attention grabber just like its owner and a sure way to attract the attention of Lassie and his neighbors, if he parked in front of the house.
Dressed in all black with black leather gloves, he turned off the engine and strapped his helmet to the cycle. His silenced phone was in his pocket, along with a bottle of mace and a mini flashlight. He also had a small, but powerful stun gun in a different pocket.
"Who said only Gus could be prepared?"
He made his way to the house, acting as ordinary as possible. Stepping up to the door, he noted the absence of lights showing in the house.
"That either means he's asleep or somewhere in the back of the house. Considering it's two in the morning, he should be sound asleep."
He knew the risks. Other than getting attacked again, he could be put into jail for breaking and entering, in which Lassie would enjoy personally throwing him in the brig and locking the doors.
He reached out to the doorknob with keys in hand.
"Come to think of it, Lassie is a gun fanatic and probably has one of his 8+ guns within arm's length." He paused in turning the fitted key. "Maybe, I should've grabbed Dad's bulletproof vest, too." He shook his head. "It would take too long to go get it. I barely got the stun gun and mace without him noticing, and knowing him, he probably knows I have them anyway."
He turned the key.
A soft click resounded and the door swung slowly open. He paused listening for any alarms or movement. There was none, surprisingly.
"If anything feels wrong, I'm out."
He stepped into the darkness of the entrance and carefully closed the door. Silence ruled after the click of the door and he ventured cautiously in going pass the small living room turned office to his right and closet door to his left. His eyes scanned for everything: movement and noise. Soft light pooled on the ground at the entrance to the den of the house. He crouched low and peeked inside.
A blank, big flat screen TV hung on the wall to his right, along with the entrance to the hallway leading to the master bedroom, bathroom, and another bedroom. To his left was the entrance to the kitchen. Across from the TV was the couch and sitting in the far right corner in his recliner, wearing a dark T-shirt and pajama pants, was Lassieface (as he had predicted earlier) dead to the world. A yellow legal pad was in his lap and a pen was still clutched in his hand.
"Looks like he fell asleep." A grin stretched on his face. "Perfect."
Cautiously, he tiptoed out of the hallway. He had to make sure Lassie was knocked out before he started the search. Crouched low beside the coffee table, he noted the relaxed features, the movement of eyes behind the eyelids, and the steady breathing with the soft snoring.
All signs of a person in deep REM sleep.
He slowly stood up. With eyes trained on the sleeping person, he did a little dance around the room and paused by the kitchen. There was no response. He wanted a high-five from a certain someone for guessing the right time to pull this stunt.
"But that someone isn't here." He pouted.
"Now, where to start the answer search?"
Looking around the immediate area, he spotted multiple points of interest: two here and three in the kitchen. He approached the coffee table again, where a balled up piece of paper sat.
This was one of the reasons he couldn't wait to get in here. If Lassie had any connection to the killer that note he was hiding would give some kind of clue.
He took the paper. Careful not to cause too much noise, he straightened and read it.
Congrats for passing Step one!
Step two is coming.
Tell your pretty pet hello for me and don't worry. She's still safe.
-Leo
Some of his questions were answered, but more questions filled their placed. He dropped the note back on the table and stood by the sleeping Lassie. Leaning down, he skimmed through what was written on the legal pad. Standing back up, he pondered the information.
"So there are three killers: Leo, Bear, and an unnamed woman. Leo is the leader of this group and they want Lassie to complete some steps, in order to save someone."
His eyes fell on the coffee table.
"And by the note, it's a woman. A girlfriend? Naw. His mother? … Nope." He shook his head, "Who would kidnap that crazy, old lady? Then maybe his sister?" He nodded his head in agreement. "Yup, that has to be it. Who else would he risk everything for?" He looked at the darkened kitchen. "But what are these steps that he's supposed to be completing and why is he acting the way he is?"
Lassie moved next to him and he froze.
Then he almost laughed out loud when he heard Lassie mumble about pineapples before becoming still again, minus the snoring.
"Okay, that's a clear sign that my time is almost up." He tiptoed away heading toward the kitchen. At the entrance to the kitchen, he looked back and shook his head.
"Pineapples, really? Lassie, you should know that's my thing."
He entered the kitchen and quickly went to the dining table. Turning on the small flashlight, he looked at the opened box and small notebook. He placed Lassie's keys down on the table and picked up the notebook. He read the exposed page and his face scrunched in confusion. The handwriting was a dead giveaway for who wrote this, but what was written was a cause for more questions.
"Why write this to yourself?"
He flipped the page expecting more, but all that was written was a repeat of four words, which were written hesitantly as if…
"He didn't know he wrote the previous message."
He placed the notebook back on the table. His mind was reeling with this information as he focused on the opened box.
"Time is ticking." He reminded himself.
A silver key stuck out from its slot on the front of the box next to a four-numbered lock. All set to zero. Inside the box was a leather strap, about one and half feet in length. He picked up the strap, wondering about its meaning…,
And then he heard a faint squeak from the other room.
AN: I bet ya thought a certain someone was gonna die in this chapter. *snickers* There is still a possibility…