Haunted (Michael Bennett 10)

As I pulled through the open gate at Dell Streeter’s compound, the first thing I noticed was that there were no police cars on-site. I figured the shooting in town had drawn off everyone. But it still seemed like a risk not to leave someone at the house, what with so many people in town screaming for Dell Streeter’s head.

I stepped out of the van and surveyed the front yard. One of the cars that was usually there was gone. There were no bodyguards in sight. In fact, no one was in sight.

The house looked quiet. There were no lights on. The rain had eased, and I crossed the yard slowly and took each step up to the porch carefully.

Something told me to keep my pistol in my hand. I drew it from the holster on my hip and kept my hand slightly behind my leg. I listened for any sign that someone was moving around the house. Nothing.

I had an uneasy feeling. The problem with being a cop for so long is that you get a lot of uneasy feelings. The issue is figuring out which ones to pay attention to. Some people call it being jumpy. It was an insult to call a cop jumpy. But that’s what I was at this moment.

A sound at the edge of the property made me crouch and aim my pistol. It was a feral cat scurrying away from something.

I paused on the porch and took a deep breath.

I wasn’t in the mood for any of Dell Streeter’s bullshit. If he had seen Sadie, I was going to find out. If he had hurt her, he was going to pay. This was the simple plan that would keep me motivated.

I leaned in and looked through one of the dirty windows. I saw no movement in the house.

Then I heard it. Plain as day. A single gunshot from inside the house.

I rushed to the front door. It was locked. I threw my shoulder into it quickly, then realized it was reinforced. It looked like it was flimsy, but it wasn’t.

Frantically, I searched the porch for options. I grabbed one of the heavy rocking chairs sitting there and spun like Hercules throwing a discus. I threw the chair through one of the main front windows, then jumped into the house with

my pistol up.

I was surprised how dark it was inside. I crouched low and moved to a wall so I could scan the area in front of me without worrying about being attacked from behind.

I moved through the house with my gun up. There were three bedrooms. All empty. I had already been through the main room. I paused and glanced into the kitchen as I moved past it.

I found one more door. It was locked. Unlike the front door, it wasn’t reinforced. When I threw my body into it, it buckled and broke into pieces. I stumbled into the dark room. I scanned it quickly and stepped back to flick on the light. It was an office of some kind, with a couple of computers. But there was no one there.

Where had the gunshot come from? I had searched the whole house. Maybe it had come from outside. I started back through the house, fearing the worst.

The idea of Sadie with a bullet in her forced me to move quickly. I had to search the house. I had to find her.

I had to deal with Dell Streeter.

Chapter 82

As I passed the kitchen, I heard something. I froze and listened intently. The rain was down to a light drizzle. It was a steady drone on the tin roof, but I was still certain I had heard something.

I stepped into the kitchen. It was empty. I had seen everything during my dash through the house. Lots of cabinets and the usual appliances. The kitchen was made to serve a lot of people.

Then I saw it. Blood. On the linoleum near the sink. I dropped to my knee and touched it with my left index finger. It was fresh. It was wet. And I was worried.

I scanned the kitchen quickly. In the corner, on the counter near the door, was a butcher knife. The last inch of the blade had blood on it. Someone had been stabbed, but not hard enough to send the blade deep into the body.

That didn’t make me feel any better. The thought of Sadie with an injury from a knife like this made me shudder.

Then I heard the noise again. It was a voice. I listened. It was two voices. A chill went down my spine. Maybe this was the real Ghost House.

Then I heard the voice more clearly. I recognized it. It was Dell Streeter. He was talking to someone. I could even discern the twang in his speech. It was tense, and he was upset.

I wondered if he was speaking with Sadie. That would be a disaster. But how did she make it all the way over here? How did she get past the bodyguards? How did she get into a locked house?

I stepped toward the living room and listened. I could hear the voice in the living room, too. I stepped carefully, conscious of the possibility of creaking boards below my feet.

I realized where the sound was coming from. I got down on my knees and lowered my head toward the floor. This house had a cellar.