Randy White - Haunted

Snorting more drugs, I thought. Good. More time to get my hands and ankles free before he comes back.

Chin-high near the milking table, I noticed, was a shelf full of equipment: heavy gloves as long as my forearms, a catch pole with pincers hanging near an aluminum pole-a snake hook-and something Theo had forgotten about, a box cutter lying in plain sight.

Did the box cutter contain a razor blade?

I’m no stranger to the strengths and weaknesses of tie wraps. I keep a pack on my boat. They bind like steel under pressure, but a nick and sudden snap will pop them like string. Using my mouth, I dropped the box cutter on the table, then backed against it, hoping it had a razor. My fingers fumbled around until they became familiar with the case and sliding blade. Minutes later, my hands, then my legs, were free.

The first thing I did was confirm that Theo was still at the party. Then I rushed to the sink and washed myself clean of Krissie’s blood. The sight and smell of the red swirl spinning down the drain almost caused me to retch.

There’s no time for that. Weakness can wait, staying alive can’t.

Talking to myself helped. I washed my face, too, while I wondered, How do I escape from a windowless room made of concrete? Well… maybe through the air-conditioning ducts.

I took a look. I’m a large woman, with shoulders from years of swimming. The ducts weren’t wide enough. I had heard a dead bolt slam on the main entrance but tried the front door anyway. It was locked.

The second door caught my attention-two doors, actually: an outer door of steel, the inner door all bars like a jail cell. The next room, possibly, was where valuable snake venom was stored. I wanted to believe that. But then remembered Theo staring as he threatened to put me in a cage with the chimps. That worried me. Something else: what looked like a mail slot was actually a hinged pass-through large enough to fit a tray stacked with food.

I didn’t want to believe that .

Why house adult chimpanzees next to a room full of snakes? It makes no sense.

It was a high-security room, I reasoned. Had to be. Probably refrigerated. I pictured a big stand-up safe inside, too. The prospect didn’t offer much hope as an escape route, but I went to the door and turned the latch anyway.

Surprise. The bars swung open on rusty hinges. I caught the frame before it banged the wall. A brass lever controlled the next door, which would also open inward. I reached to try it but stopped myself. There was no dead bolt on my side. And no way of knowing if the internal lock was engaged. If I turned the lever, the door might open. But the same was true if someone, or some thing , opened the latch from the other side.

The thought of what awaited me was unsettling. The image of Krissie’s mangled body appeared in memory: faceless, her flesh gnawed to the bone. Oliver and Savvy-one of the chimps was a monster, maybe both. What if they were on the other side of the door?

I stood for several seconds. My eyes shifted from the lever… to a fist-sized dent above it… and finally focused on the pass-through. The opening was covered by a metal flap. Lift the flap, I could look through to confirm what was in the next room. Caution demanded that I do it. So I knelt and leaned one hand against the metal sheeting. When I did, the door settled into its frame with a soft click-click .

Instantly, from the other side, I heard tap-tap… tap as if in reply.

The space around me, already quiet, began to hum with a dense and dreadful silence. I’d been too overwhelmed to worry about paranoia or the effects of the drug. But now told myself, You’re imagining things. Open the flap and look.

I did. Lifted the little metal lid, which was light and loose to the touch. I leaned my face to the opening… then exhaled, relieved. Almost smiled because in the next room all I saw was a wedge of tile flooring and a desk where books were stacked near a lamp that was on but not bright. A couple of dog toys, too-a retrieving bumper, a chunk of rope-and something else: a window. The window was closed, but it was a glass window. No bars. Force the door open, my freedom lay on the other side.

I stood and caught my breath. Rather than act in haste, I decided to check on Theo one last time. As I stepped away, though, I heard it again: tap-tap… tap .

Three distinct sounds. Like a fingernail signaling from the next room. I cocked my head and listened. Heard the compressor whine of air-conditioning… an October wind in the trees outside.

Wind. That might explain the noise. Even so, I tiptoed to the door… knelt, and was again reaching for the metal flap when a more familiar sound stopped me-a dead bolt snap at the front door, the door yet to open because there was still a padlock to deal with.

Theo had returned.

I swung the bars closed, then moved in a rapid animated silence. I wanted the room to appear as if nothing had changed.

IT WAS LUCIA at the door, not Theo. When she entered, I was on a folding chair facing her, my hands behind my back. Tie wraps were looped around my ankles. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice how precariously the ties hung there.

Not to worry-the woman was too stoned to do anything but gloat, then get down to business. The bamboo tube she carried, though, was a constant worry. It was longer than expected, tipped with a wisp of a mouthpiece.

“Hannah-Hannah, the man killer,” Lucia chided as she approached, voice syrupy. A shapeless black dress-no, it was a robe that caught air near her sandals. “You don’t really think I’ll let them hurt you, do you, dearie?”

I said, “That’s a wise choice. Police will go easier if you don’t.”

“Quite the tough little lady, aren’t we?” Her smile vanished. “That’s not the reason. I’m protecting you because we’re going to make a deal, just you and me… dearie .” She stopped several steps away and gripped the bamboo, her fingernails glossy red. “Theo’s a total nutcase, no argument. But he’s pretty good in bed. And I’ve got enough tapes and video to send him to the electric chair, if I want. Do you understand the power that gives me?” She reached to lean against the desk… misjudged the distance but finally found the desk with her hand.

I asked, “What do you have in mind?” but was wondering, Where did she put the key? Lucia had locked the front door before crossing the room. No purse, no visible pockets, and she hadn’t left the key in the lock. It had to be on her somewhere.

Stoned or not, the woman was shrewd. She noticed me eyeing her robe with its waist belt and hood, a white peasant blouse beneath. “What are you looking at?”

I said, “Truthfully? I’m scared to death. But it’s the same thing I wondered about last night when we met: how a woman your age stays in such good shape. Weird to be thinking that now, I know, but you asked.”

“A little manipulator,” she decided, but sounded pleased nonetheless. “What I’m telling you is, Theo is not going to jail over some little redneck tramp. What’s it matter that she died tonight instead of next year in some bar or truck stop? I don’t give a shit about his filthy monkeys either. Are you kidding? With their fleas and constant jacking off, and that female with her disgusting pink bows and collar. I’d love to see them dead. Hmm. Maybe we can work that into our deal.”

I held my tongue while Lucia paused to realize, Yes, that’s a possibility . Then said, “Theo is useful. When I tell him to do something, he does it. And that includes favors that would make you blush-you’re such a pious little creature, aren’t you? What I would miss a lot more is the ten thousand a month he pays me not to turn him over to the law. Young cocks don’t grow on trees and I own his.”