Richie scurried out the front door with Krug right behind him as he locked the door with a spare key he'd gotten from Denise earlier.
"Get in the car, Rich."
"Where do we look for them?"
"I'm not sure right off hand, how far away is the station from here?"
"Uh—about six blocks from here I guess, why?" Richie asked.
"Because that's where we're going to look first, come on."
Richie slipped into the passenger side of the Sedan and Krug slipped in the driver's side, stuck the key in the ignition, turned around in the street and stormed down the road.
"So where do we go to first?" Richie asked, "the police station?"
"Around there, we don't want to run into the officers but we have got to find out what's going on, like why everybody's missing, or why the phone wires have been cut at the house—I don't know what's going on but I know it's not going to get any better anytime soon."
"You really think there's going to be another murder?" Richie asked.
"I can smell it," Krug said, "there's blood in the air."
"What?"
"It's an expression."
Krug stomped on the brake and stopped the car right outside of an alleyway.
"You stick around long enough, you'll see—you begin to recognize the signs, more people are going to die before this is over. Matter of fact – after tonight I'd say the coroner's going to have his hands full."
"So now what?" Richie asked.
"You still have your gun, right?"
"Yeah, but I don't know how many bullets are left in it."
"Hand it over then."
Richie wasn't sure about that but he knew they couldn't waste time arguing. He jerked the gun out of his pocket and handed it to Krug.
"Seven shots left," he said after checking, he handed it back to Richie, "Allright, this is where we start looking, I'll take one side of this part of town, you take the other, and don't get trigger-happy."
"R-right."
Richie and Krug stepped out of the car and went separate ways; Krug disappeared down the alley, and Richie went the other way, slipping between several buildings that had either been closed for the night or condemned. The only lights keeping him out of complete darkness came from the dim streetlights. They were real dim, streetlights were usually bright white with purple rings around them, but these were low in yellow. Come a few days they'd probably be burnt out completely. Richie tried not to think about being stuck in the dark in this part of town with who-knew-what lurking around in the dark. He was covering a lot of ground, but getting nowhere fast. There wasn't a single person out as far as the eye could see. He was clearly in this, alone.
Richie looked at his watch, it was going on five in the morning, pretty soon the sun would be coming up. He went back the way he came and found the Sedan in the exact same place where Krug had left it, but now he realized there was another problem. Krug was still out there someone looking for them. Richie looked down the narrow alleyway and didn't see anyone, but it was the only place he knew to look right now. So Richie carefully made his way through the alley, listening closely after every step he took. He saw someone go by at the end of the alley and immediately thought it might be Krug. So he quickened his steps down the alley, just as he reached the end he saw no one, but then felt someone grab him and jerk him aside.
Richie screamed as the person grabbed him, he turned around and saw it was only Krug.
"You scared the hell out of me, man!" Richie said.
"I've had plenty of practice," was his only response.
"Did you find anything?" Richie asked as he felt his heartbeat return to normal.
"Nothing, what about you?" Krug asked.
"Same, and it's going to be daybreak soon, so now what?" Richie asked.
"Now we go back to the house, maybe they went back while we've been out here on this wild goose chase," Krug said.
"I sure hope you're right, Krug," Richie said in return.
"That makes two of us, kid."
They tore through the alley, back to Krug's car, got in and took off back for the house.
Richie looked back as they got out of the car, "It's starting to get light out, I don't like this."
"Don't get so excited, the sun won't be all that bright for another two or three hours," Krug said.
"Wonderful, we won't have to worry about finding the body, it's going to be eighty-five degrees today, we can smell it out," Richie sighed dryly.
Krug got about three feet from the porch when he noticed something, and he froze. "Oh shit," were his only words.
"What is it?" Richie asked.
Richie went over to Krug and saw what was so surprising. When they left, Krug had locked the door on his way out, the door had been forced open now with a broken lock and damaged wood in the doorway.
"Looks like we've had company," Richie said.
"Yeah, but who?"
They went in, expecting someone to jump out and clunk them over the head with something, but nothing happened. They went from one room to the next to make sure they didn't have any unwanted company. Richie felt along the wall for the light switch and when he found it, he realized they seemed to be in more trouble than could be imagined.
"Dammit, now the power's out," Richie grunted, "Hey Krug!"
"What?"
"Where are you?"
"My guess is the kitchen, what's going on?" Krug asked.
"We got a problem."
"I know, get over here so I know I'm talking to you."
Richie felt his way along the room until he reached the doorway to what he was certain was the kitchen. He felt someone grab him by his wrists and pull him in.
"Hey!"
"Relax, It's just me," Krug replied, "listen, I don't know who came here, but I think it's rather obvious they weren't any of our friends."
"So then where are they? Where could they be?" Richie asked, his heart pounding in his chest now.
"I only know a few places where they might be, and I'd only suggest them as a last resort," Krug said.
Krug parked the car in front of the police station and said, "If they're not here, then there's only two other places I know to look, that's the cemetery and the morgue."
"Oh God, I hope they're here," Richie said.
"Well come on, let's find out."
They headed in the front doors to the station and were relieved to hear people arguing at high decibels, they found Denise and Jeremy and Jason surrounded by several police officers, all of them trying to talk over everyone else.
"Enough!" Denise bellowed, silencing the other bickerers, "I am sick and tired of you harassing us. We came here because this is an emergency. A deputy may be dead, there is a man posing as him on the loose, the phone wires have been cut at my house and the power has been put out, furthermore while we were gone, someone broke into the house and ransacked the place. On top of that we have two friends out there who may already be dead!"
A female officer tried reasoning with her, "Miss, I'm sorry but unless you can give us the information we need, there is nothing we can—"
"Go blow a porcupine, lady!" she said.
"Denise!" Richie called.
The three turned around and were relieved to see the two of them alive and well.
"Richie!" Denise called, "get your arse over here, I want to make sure you're allright."
"You too, Krug," Jason added.
Richie rushed over to Denise, who put her arms around him and quickly ran them up and down his back before she drew away from him and slapped him across the face.
"Where in the hell were you?" she asked, "We went back to the house, someone had broken in, the power was cut off, and you weren't there."
"Hey, you think that's bad, while we were there, that imposter sneaked out and cut the phone wires," Richie said in return.
"What?" Jeremy asked, "How did he get out without anyone hearing him?"
"We don't know," Krug said.
"Well where did you go?" Jason asked Krug.
"To look for you, where were you?" Krug asked.
"Well we looked all over this part of town to find the deputy and came up with nothing," Jeremy said, "So we came down here to speak to Uncle David in person, only he's not here either. We have no idea where anybody is, everybody is disappearing."
"No shit, what do you think we thought you were doing? Playing hide and seek with us?" Krug asked.
They heard a door close and someone enter the room. "Okay ladies, what's this about a murder—oh—Richie Ryan—this should be interesting."
Everyone turned around and saw Sergeant Powell standing in front of them.
"Oh—shit," Richie said under his breath.
"Powell?" Denise asked.
"Yep."
"I see."
Denise took a step forward to speak with Powell, but Jeremy stopped her.
"Wait sis, let me," he said.
Jeremy stepped over to Powell and said, "So you're Sergeant Powell, the infamous pain in the ass in this precinct, is that right?"
"And who might you be?" Powell asked.
"Who, me? Well that would depend who you're asking. Some people refer to me as their worst nightmare, others know me as the end of their time, but most people just address me as "Doctor Death". Would you like to guess why?" Jeremy asked.
"What is it that you want, exactly?" Powell asked.
"Want? Well—I would "want" to be able to do unto you as I have done—many of my victims from the past. Nothing could bring me more pleasure, except on the count of my harpoon gun was confiscated last year due to the unfortunate incident in New Orleans during the Mardi Gras. In my defense it was pitch dark and I was unaware of this leather-clad dominatrix craze among many tourists.
"However that is irrelevant right now. So to save your time, and your kneecaps, I'll cut to the chase. This isn't a matter of "want"; it is a matter of "need". I need to find a member of this station, David Kramar; he'll know who I am. Now, you do this for me, and I'll forget about that nasty little incident over at 108th Street. You hear me, Powell? I want you to find David Kramar, and if you so much as utter one syllable of this to the FBI so help me I'll see to it that you wake up next to last year's Kentucky Derby champion."
Powell took a step back, looked over at Richie and said, "Is he with you?"
"Yes," Jason answered.
"Allright—"
Powell turned around and went into the next room.
"How did you do that?" Richie asked.
"Do what?" Jeremy asked.
"I say anything to Powell, he nails my ass, you talk to him, and he's scared of you," Richie said.
"Oh that—it's a gift," Jeremy replied.
"Great, now we can get out of here, and find out what the hell's going on," Denise said.
"Denise, do you have any idea what time it is?" Richie asked.
"I did until I got here, someone took it from me and I haven't seen it since," she said in return.
"It's almost six in the morning," Krug said, "unless you know exactly where that body is, we're not going to get anywhere now."
"Oh great, fine finish to the end of a perfect fucking night," Denise said as they left the station, "first—my old friend watches some hooker get offed, then something happens to the guy who's supposed to keep an eye on the place. Then we go out to find the real guy, finding nothing, something happens to the imposter, the electricity and the phone wires at the house get cut off, while we're all out, someone breaks in and ransacks the place, and now—something has happened to our uncle and the only way we're going to be able to find that body now, is when—"
By that time they'd gotten to their automobiles, Jason and Krug at their Sedan, Richie, Jeremy and Denise at the pickup.
"When what?" Jeremy asked.
Denise said nothing and instead remained frozen with an odd look on her face. She blinked and said, "Never mind, let's just get home first, and see if we can put the house back together."
Jeremy and Richie slipped in the passenger side, Denise went over to the Sedan and stuck her head in through the passenger's window. "Hey, can you guys follow us back to the house before you head back to work?"
"Can do, Miss," Krug said, "and will do."
Denise went back over to the truck, jerked the door open and slipped in, "How are you boys doing?"
"As well as can be expected, how about you Rich?" Jeremy asked.
"Oh sure, best night of my life," Richie said dryly, "so Jeremy."
"Yeah, Rich?"
"What was that you were talking to Sergeant Powell about on 108th Street?"
"Oh that—you know Richie, I'm surprised folks don't avoid this guy like the plague. Everywhere he goes, trouble follows. See they got a domestic violence report, there was this guy, about our age, high on speed, and he was totally out of it, had no idea who he was talking to, no idea what he was doing, the police get there, they try to "restrain" him, beating him upside the head in the process.
"He died later that day, and the obituary says it was from an overdose, but what people don't know that the coroner does was that he didn't die from the drugs, he died from internal bleeding in the head, caused by the attack. Of course they found out some people know what really happened but aren't willing to talk about it."
"So why should he be scared of you? He could have you blown away if you threatened to go public with it," Richie said.
"Who's talking about going public? You know how many assassination attempts there are when you're speaking publicly? Only a few members of the police force know about that, but the Captain doesn't, and if the Captain were to find out—"
"Then Powell would be ruined and likely to be killed by a relative of the guy they iced."
"Exactly, he'd be wearing cement shoes before he could even come near me."
"Allright you two, shut up," Denise said, "First thing's first, we get back to the house and see exactly how much damage has been done."
"I don't think it could be too much," Richie said, "when we went back there, nothing seemed to be out of place."
"Well when you're stuck in the dark, it's pretty hard to determine what you're just running into, and what's been tossed aside."
"I can't imagine who could've done this," Jeremy said, "I mean who would've wanted to break in here and tear the joint up?"
"Someone who's trying to scare us, like cutting the phone wires and killing the electricity," Denise replied.
Richie looked at the remains of what used to be the dining room table, the legs had been cut off, the leafs were tossed all around the house, in fact one of them had gone through a window. Denise and Jeremy were in the living room putting the couch back into place, it had been knocked over and the back had been hacked open. Krug and Jason had insisted on staying to help get the place back in as good a condition as possible. Krug was stacking together the leafs from the table, and Jason was disposing of the thousands of shards of broken glass that used to be the window in the back door.
"I could've sworn this house wasn't in this big a wreck when we got here," Krug said.
"Maybe whoever did it came back for an encore while you were at the station," Denise suggested.
"Right about now, anything's possible," Jason said.
"Holy shit."
"What is it, sis?" Jeremy asked.
"Krug, when you and Richie got back here, was that muscle car outside?"
"I don't know—I don't think so but we weren't really concerned about it," he said, "why?"
"Because, it was already there when he disappeared, if it was gone when you got back it means he made another move while you were gone," Denise said.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Jason asked.
"I don't know, he could be hiding out somewhere, or he could've called in someone to come here and –oh shit."
"What is it?" Richie asked.
"While we were gone, whoever broke in could've stolen the guns we kept upstairs," Denise realized.
"Not to worry, I'll go and check," Jeremy said, "and see just how much damage they did up there, you wanna come, Rich?"
"No thanks."
"Well Jason, what's the verdict on the table?" Denise asked.
"It's long gone, I think I know a good place where you could put it though."
"What's that?"
"A funeral pyre."
"Denise," Richie said, "this house is a wreck, how are you going to explain this to your parents when they get back?"
"They're not getting back for two weeks, Richie, that'll be plenty of time to get everything repaired and replaced."
"What about Mac? He's supposed to be home any day now and he is going to come down here to get me. What then?" Richie asked.
"Why couldn't you just meet him back where he lives?" Jason asked.
"Because I don't know when he's supposed to be back into town—"
"And after last night I don't trust him being anywhere by himself," Denise added, "and we have got to stay here and keep an eye on Mason."
Jeremy came back down the stairs and ran up to Denise. "You're not going to believe this, they trash the downstairs, but they don't even touch the upstairs."
"Great, then there's only half as much work for us to do," Denise said.
"And thank God for that," Richie said, "I shudder to think how long it would take us to repair both floors."
"What time is it now?" Denise asked.
"Six-thirty," Jeremy replied.
"Allright," Denise said, "Jeremy, go into the den and watch Mason's house, the minute he's gone, let me know."
"Why?" Jeremy asked.
"Just do it!"
"Allright."
Jeremy turned and went back into the hall and over to the den.
"Richie, I got a feeling if you and I keep at this, we could have the worst taken care of within—three or four hours."
"What about the windows?" Richie asked.
"I'll call the glass company and have them replace them," Denise said.
"The phone's dead," Richie reminded her.
"Not mine," Denise pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.
"In any case, you'll have to wait at least a couple of hours before you can get anyone," Richie added.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, so in the meantime let's get everything we can back in its place, and shuck out everything that's been smashed to smithereens."
"Well I guess until we can get the electricity back on and the phone working and the windows replaced, this is the best we can do," Denise said after two hours.
"Good," Richie said, "I'm exhausted."
"Allright you two," Denise said to Jason and Krug, "follow me and I'll get out the payment for your services."
They followed her into the hall and she stopped at a door on the left that was locked.
"I'm surprised whoever tore up the house didn't break the door down and get in here," she said as she fished through her pocket for a key.
She took a key ring out of her pocket, there were about fifteen keys, but none seemed to be to the door, so she took off one of the skeleton keys and opened the door. It seemed to be an office of some sort; the walls were crowded with bookshelves and filing cabinets, and degrees and diplomas, there were three large desks covered with folders and papers and audiotapes and ink cartridges. There was a computer against one wall, and beside it was a small table with another telephone on it. Over by the four windows was a large counter that was covered with large aloe plants and ferns and mums, over at the end of the counter was a police scanner.
"Who comes in here?" Jason asked as he gazed around.
"Seldom anyone," Denise said, "my folks use it for work when they're actually home, so it doesn't see much use."
Denise went around to one desk and pulled out a hidden drawer on the back of it, she took out a metal box and removed a stack of bills from inside of it. She sorted through them, removed eight one hundred dollar bills and handed them to Krug.
"Here's the money for your service," Denise thumbed through the bills again and took out five more, "and here's a tip for everything else."
"Thanks but that's not really necessary," Jason said.
"Well it's one more thing off my chest and one less thing that I can lose," Denise said.
"Well—I don't know what to say exactly—thanks for an interesting night," Jason said.
"If you need us, you know where to find us," Krug added.
"I'll do that."
Krug and Jason headed out of the office and out the front door, got in their car and left. Denise went back to the living room where Richie was.
"Well, I'm going to call the glass company and see how long it'll take for them to get here, then I'm going to call the phone company and—"
Jeremy sprinted into the room screaming, "Denise! Denise! Whoa—Denise!"
"What is it?" she asked.
"Mason just left, Denise!"
"Great."
"What's going on?" Richie asked.
"We're going to find the body, that's what's going on," Denise said.
"What!"
"We are going to go over there, search the house from top to bottom, find the lady, and have a little surprise waiting for Mason when he gets home," Denise said.
"Great, so now we're breaking and entering over there, knowing that he could catch and report us?" Richie asked.
Denise scoffed, "Boy Richie, you sure have softened up since you moved in with that warden of yours. We're not going to break and enter over there and we're not going to get caught."
"How?" Richie asked.
Denise took the key ring out of her pocket, "It's not breaking and entering if the door's not locked."
Richie laughed nervously and sat down as he started moaning. "I feel awful. Denise, I don't think I can do this. For that matter, I don't think we can do this."
"Oh malarkey, if we don't we'll all find ourselves in the graveyard," Denise said, "Richie, we don't have a choice in this."
They were at the back door to Mason's house where no one would see them. Denise stuck the key in the hole and turned it and they heard the bolt move.
"I can't believe this," Richie said.
"And I can't believe you've turned into such a pacifist," Denise replied as she pulled a cloth out of her jacket.
Denise pulled the key out, put her hand over the cloth, put the cloth on the doorknob and turned. The door swung open and they stepped into a small room right outside the kitchen.
"You sure he's going to be gone long enough for us to find this hooker?" Jeremy asked.
"Yes, Jeremy, now come on," Denise opened the kitchen door and they stepped in.
"Allright, first thing's first, first we check the living room," Denise said.
"What for? Jeremy asked.
"To see if there's still any blood on the floor. He is a musician and an artist, but I doubt he's a very good housekeeper."
They followed her as they passed from the kitchen into the dining room, and over to the living room. Much to their surprise, the floor was absolutely spotless.
"Apparently he's a better maid than I thought," Denise said.
"When do you think he took care of that?" Richie asked.
"Probably shortly after he killed her."
"So now the main thing we have to figure out is—where's the body," Richie said.
"Exactly, now this is a huge place, so there's plenty of places where he could've put her," Denise added.
"So where do we start?" Jeremy asked.
Denise thought for a minute, "I'll look down in the basement, you two look upstairs, that way if, and that's a big IF, he does come back early, he won't catch you so easily."
"Got it," Jeremy said.
"Denise, are you sure about this? What if he comes back and catches you?" Richie asked.
"Richie relax, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have, if he catches me I'll just blow his head off, now go on, we've gotta find the corpse before he gets back," Denise explained.