Page 6
6
At first, the slight crickle-crackle sound that began to cut in and out of the cold crisp air beneath the covered porch was so faint Shaw wasn’t really sure if it was an outside sound at all. The white noise of silence playing tricks on his mind maybe, he thought as he cocked his head at the dark. Or perhaps just the cold wind vibrating off the drum of his ear.
When the faint suggestion of a sound suddenly became a louder crackling, Shaw took a few steps forward from where he’d been standing to the left of the elaborate front door of the college president’s house.
“You hear that?” he said, peering into the dark.
“Hear what?” the meathead muscle-bound Kenny said behind him, not bothering to look up from where he was leaning against the clapboard playing with his phone.
And the key word was playing , Shaw noted. He’d gotten a glance at the big dummy’s phone screen and he had some kid’s game on it. Some Tetris thing with fruit instead of Lego blocks falling down and exploding.
Maybe Frank Stone could do no wrong making money on Wall Street, Shaw thought. But his judgment when it came to personal security was hard to understand. Kenny, a former defensive end for the Miami Dolphins, had some size and strength on him for sure, but he was about as observant and vigilant as a goldfish and had about the same attention span.
“There it is again,” Shaw said as he heard the crackling again. It definitely seemed to be coming from the house’s side yard on the right.
“What are you talking about?” Kenny said, still playing his game like a preschooler.
Maybe you could hear better if I broke your phone off your bone head , Shaw felt like saying to him. But I doubt it.
Instead, Shaw stepped off the porch and moved to his right across the manicured property’s flat front lawn. A weeping willow tree commanded the corner of the old house and he skirted past it quickly into a gravel driveway.
It sure was one creepy-looking old place, wasn’t it? Shaw thought, looking down the drive where a covered dark wooden catwalk-like structure connected the second story of the house to a separate two-story garage.
Shaw was almost under this porte cochere, slowly scanning the row of pine trees along the left side of the driveway, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
From his inside jacket pocket, he removed a black plastic cylinder the size of a bicycle grip. It was an AGM micro thermal imaging monocular and he thumbed it on as he placed it up to his right eye.
He squinted as he pointed the night vision through the bars of the wrought iron fencing.
Then both of Shaw’s eyes shot open wide as he realized what it was.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Kenny said as Shaw returned to the porch at speed, flying past him to push open the front door.
Inside the foyer, the college security guy they’d been briefly introduced to was sitting on a folding chair fast asleep with his head back, snoring softly. Another invincible guard dog, Shaw thought with a roll of his eyes.
Shaw ignored him as he pulled open the inner door.
The large front hall inside was even more Bates Motel creepy than the outside of the place, if that were possible. The orange-tinged light from a sole sconce in a corner revealed dark deeply recessed wood paneling and a coffered ceiling and a massive fireplace framed with antique tiles. To the right of the fireplace, light was spilling through a crack of a slightly open door.
As he stood there in the pitch-black hallway of the Gothic residence, all the events of the strange night—the tenseness in the car, the urgent order to drive up here to central Connecticut with no explanation, and now the freaky dark interior of the old house—suddenly gave Shaw an uneasy feeling.
For a moment, Shaw thought if he pushed into the inner room of the strange house, he might see his boss, Frank, in some sort of...compromised position. In some occult getup, velvet robes maybe, and wearing a mask or something like in that batshit crazy Stanley Kubrick movie.
Dark internet rumors flashed through his head as he continued to just stand there. He pictured remote islands with weird owl statues on top of temples. Secret rituals with famous rich people dressed like Druids burning effigies in California forest groves. He’d seen the undercover internet videos and knew, like pretty much everybody on the planet, about that pedophile pimp for the elite who really didn’t kill himself.
But with no other option Shaw could think of, due to his penchant for taking orders maybe, he suddenly held his breath and knocked and then pushed slowly at the door.
Shaw let out his breath as he spotted Frank. He was still wearing his tux, standing by a lit fireplace in what looked like a large library. Before him, two men were sitting on a couch facing the fireplace. Shaw couldn’t see their faces. Backlit by the fire, the figures were just dark silhouettes.
Frank quickly stepped over as he spotted him. He pushed Shaw back into the front hall, pulling the door firmly shut behind him, his expression furious.
“Shaw, are you out of your mind? What is it?” Frank said.
“Sir, I saw something outside.”
“What? Saw something?” Frank said, his fury morphing instantly to a look of shock. “What did you see?”
“Beside the house in the cornstalks is a person with a long lens camera,” Shaw said.
“You have to be absolutely kidding me! Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” Shaw said.
“You and Kenny find who the hell it is,” Frank said. “And I mean immediately. Scoop up whoever it is and get the camera, okay? Get everything and put them into custody with college security and then you come back here and tell me what the hell is going on. You got me? Find them now.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6 (Reading here)
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
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