(2013) Shooter (4 page)

God, this place is depressing.

Hearing no one, I tiptoed to the first side room, which happened to be a large sitting room, and matched the foyer. Ugh…

I didn't see any people, but there was a rather suspicious stain in the corner, on the carpet. Three dark dots against the pristine neutral color. Is that blood?
Nobody should be bleeding; I haven't done my job yet.

I attempted the garage. Perhaps Mr. Holtz has a manly hobby. Restoring an old car, maybe?

Again, I found nothing. Are they upstairs?

I didn't like going upstairs under any circumstances. That's where people are likely to be in wait with a baseball bat or a gun, if they know you're coming. It also crippled the majority of my escape options.

But what other choice did I have? Feeling defeated, I tiptoed up the non-creaky stairs and looked down a long hallway. Four doors branched off, three bedrooms and a bath. I'd gone over the house schematics on the way here. Don't ask how I got a hold of those.

I nudged the first door open with the toe of one black Chuck Taylor and cleared the bathroom. Nobody there. This was getting really annoying. I pulled a pistol out and replaced the knife. Keeping the gun at my hip, I pushed the second door open with the fingers of my free hand. It swung open silently on oiled hinges.

A generally loud cry of 'PINK!!' assaulted my senses for a second as I took in the daughter's room. Princesses, princes, fairy tale magic. But no child here to enjoy it.

I politely closed the door the little girl's room and proceeded down the hallway. I didn't want to intrude on her space; that felt somehow wrong to me.

Two doors left; they have to be in one of them. Next, the guest bedroom. I entered quietly; same décor as the rest of the house. Cold, utilitarian. I hate this house, I thought sourly to myself.

Odd thing to be thinking when you're out to kill someone.

Last room. They're either here or not at all. I tensed myself for quick action. Might have to just shoot him and run for it; use the element of surprise to my advantage.

I crept to the door, and caught a whiff of a strong and very familiar smell reached my nose; the coppery tang of blood.

Something's wrong here.

I lifted my Colt .45 to shoulder height in front of me, took a deep, calming breath, stepped back, lifted a foot, and kicked the door open with an almighty yell. More than likely, Julia would be slightly deaf in one ear for a while.

What I found almost made me scream and throw up, all at the same time. Almost.

I'd seen some pretty grisly crime scenes in my time, most perpetrated by myself or some of my colleagues, but this one easily topped all those.

Julia barked something in my ear; a short, sharp question. I didn't hear it. Time kinda seemed to have stopped.

The master bedroom was an absolute wreck, and I'd found everyone.

Trouble was, they were already dead.

Blood pooled under Caleb Holtz's ruined corpse. Knife wounds riddled his body and I could just make out the yawning hole in his throat from his face down position. He must have bled out in seconds, unless some of those wounds were inflicted postmortem. I saw ragged defensive wounds on his arms and face, and he'd fought his attacker until he'd collapsed into his crumpled up position. Maybe he'd tried to fight away the assailants and keep them away from his wife and child, who lay on the opposite side of the bed.

Mrs. Holtz might once have been a beautiful woman, before the shotgun blast to the face. She was slumped against a splattered dresser.

I reached into the neck of my coat and clutched a battered silver crucifix that I'd always worn. Not because I was religious, but because my sister had given it to me. It was a comfort thing.

I had to fight to keep my breathing level when I looked past Mrs. Holtz and saw the tiny form of the little girl.

"Oh, god, please… no…" I choked, and moved forward, expecting the absolute worst.

My hands shook on the grip of the .45 caliber handgun.

I stepped gingerly over the girl's mother, trying to avoid anything, especially not evidence. I had no desire to help whomever did this to get away. Might seem sort of backwards, wouldn't it?

I holstered my gun and crouched beside the girl, hands shaking.

I swallowed bile and reached to feel the girl's pulse. I thought I felt a shudder of fear under my fingers, but that might have even been me.

I actually heard Julia's next question. "Grace, what the fuck is going on?" She sounded nervous to me, which was strange. Julia, nervous? Wow.

There. I almost sobbed with relief when I felt the quickened heartbeat. I gently turned her over, looking for injuries, and was met with a pair of terrified eyes. She stared up at me as though she were looking up into the eyes of death. For all she knew, she probably was.

I lifted a finger to my lips and whispered, "Shh, I'm not here to hurt you."

She didn't look convinced.

And then I proceeded to do possibly the stupidest thing I'd ever done in my life. I slipped the mask off and stuck it back in my pocket.

"I promise I'm not here to hurt you." I whispered.

Then a thought struck me, with all the good sense that had abandoned me on its heels.

A psycho did this. A psycho who might still be in the area.

I barked into the earpiece, all my usual confidence back in a flash. "Julia. Get to the car right now."

"What the fuck, Grace?" Julia demanded, her voice crackly from the volume.

"Someone's screwing with us. Caleb was already dead, and so's his wife."

I had to fight to ignore the whimper that came from the little girl. Julia's curse was quiet. "Get your ass out of there. This could be a setup."

"Working on it." I grumbled, almost at a loss for what to do next.

I cannot just leave her. That, I decided in less than a second.

"What the hell do you mean, working on it? Come on!"

I made my move quickly. I scooped up little Holtz and made a dash for the back door. I was out of the house in less than a minute, running full tilt back out of the garden and the property's little surrounding forested area. As soon as I caught sight of the gray Beemer, I heard a sharp intake of breath in my earpiece.

"No, Grace, you didn't… shit."

I ignored this and sprinted the rest of the way to the car, disregarding Julia's glare from the passenger's seat.

"I can't leave her here." Was all I muttered, throwing open the back seat and setting the little girl in there gently, buckling her seatbelt. I closed the door carefully and leaped in the front seat, starting the car and pulling away before anyone had a chance to say anything, and before I could lose my nerve.

"Well, I hope you fucking well have a plan." Was all I got out of Julia.

"L'il bit of one, yeah."

This area would have it's own police precinct. I'd take her there.

The GPS in the car led me to the downtown area in a little less than an hour, a little tiny old-west looking area that really seemed kind of sad, in comparison to just the area around my place, even. People milled about, going on with their business, which didn't see to be much at all, really.

We reached the tiny police station, and I caught sight of some two-bit officer outside smoking. I hated smokers, but he'd have to do.

I parked the car and got out, retrieving little Holtz from the back seat. She was completely silent. Looking for all the world like she belonged to me.

My heart wrenched when she wrapped her little arms around my neck. I couldn't help but hold her close.

I walked right up to the cop, who looked me over once before straightening up and walking closer to me, snuffing out his cigarette and folding his arms over his chest, trying to look more macho. "Can I help you, Ma'am?"

I already don't like him much. Maybe it was those cheesy sideburns. "Look, I found this kid wandering on the road. She says her name's Liliana Holtz, and there's something wrong with her parents. It sounded like I should bring her to the police, rather than try to take her home." The lie rolled off my tongue easily.

He looked more than slightly taken aback. "Are you from around here, Ma'am?"

"No, I'm not. Look, just take her in there, okay? I have a bad feeling about it." I almost hesitantly passed Liliana over to the officer and stepped away a pace or two. "Just passing through, officer."

"Hm. How do I know you didn't snatch her?" he growled, now obviously suspicious.

I bit back my frustration with this idiot of a man. "Why would I be bringing her back here?"

I turned on my heel and stamped back to the car, not giving the guy a chance to say anything else.

The drive home was rather less than eventful.

"Julia… I had to." Was all I could force between my quivering lips. "I had to."

"I know."

I took my eyes off the road for a second to look over at her. She was smiling, and that meant that she wasn't too awfully pissed at me. Thank God.

"I…"

"Shut up, Grace." She sighed. "You know, I'm actually kind of proud of you, in a weird way. Could have gotten us both arrested, but you… you did the right thing."

That managed to surprise me. "I'm still in deep shit."

"Not if we just don't say anything. Nothing happened. You went in, found the bodies, we left. That simple. Kendall never has to know."

I couldn't restrain the smile. "You'd lie for me?" as if I really questioned the fact. I knew she would.

"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself. It's not a lie, so much as an omission." Julia folded her arms over her chest. "But to answer your question, I would."

"Thanks, Julie."

"Mph." Was her reflexive and ungraceful reply.

I chuckled darkly and gunned the car faster down the dirt road leading back to the urban areas.

"So, Kendall. Mind telling me what the hell's going on?" I rather impudently studied my fingernails, while lounging in the armchair across from Kendall's desk, in his office. I glanced up long enough to read his expression before glancing back down at my hand. He didn't look happy.

"I would if I knew, Graecia." He steepled his fingers and looked at me through cold blue eyes, probably contemplating what he'd do about the situation. Maybe even about me, not that any of this was really my fault. Thankfully, though, he was clueless about little Liliana. That; he would have given me the metaphorical ass-beating for.

Or maybe even the literal one. He's a tad unpredictable at times.

Kendall was the kind of guy who seemed really mild, unless you knew him. Which was odd, because he had a wife and three kids, and really looked like a normal guy, if a bit quiet, if you weren't one of his employees. We had the rather exclusive privilege of knowing what he was really like. Cold, calculating, extremely intelligent. I sometimes suspected he was a sociopath.

But that's just me.

"There would only be one or two reasons why they would have already been dead. I don't particularly like either one." I matched his cool gaze and shrugged. "Maybe he just made too many enemies."

"I don't think that likely. I think we were outbid. The firm might have hired extra in order to make absolutely sure that Caleb Holtz expired."