Steven James - The Knight

No sign of anyone outside the barn.

The dog growled, then barked again.

As I ran around the corner, I noticed a standard-sized door at the far end of the barn. Probably to the seed room or the tack room. Or maybe an office. Or hay storage area. Whatever it led to, I was going in.

The dog’s agitated barking told me it wasn’t alone in the barn.

I sprinted toward the door.

Giovanni was still scattering rose petals when he heard Thomas Bennett stir.

He pulled his ski mask from his pocket. Put it on.

“Where am…” Bennett’s voice was garbled. He was still waking up. “What’s going on?”

“I was hoping you might sleep through this, Thomas.” Giovanni was lying but tried to sound as convincing as possible. He emptied his hand of petals and then faced his captive. “It’ll be a bit more distressing for you this way, I’m afraid.”

The door was locked.

I peered around the corner of the barn and saw no other doors, just a line of small windows.

Back to the door then. I could shoot out the lock, but if the killer was in the barn with Thomas, the sound of the shot would alert the killer and put Bennett in more imminent danger.

Of course, he might have heard the helicopter.

But with all the barking, he might not have.

At least for the moment I decided not to announce my presence. Instead, I yanked out my keys, flipped open my lock pick set, and slipped a pick blade into the keyhole.

Thomas was still disoriented. Giovanni saw him look vaguely in his direction, but a moment later when Nadine growled and sprang toward the bars, the meaty slap of impact seemed to jar him awake.

He stared at the dog, then jerked his head down and gazed at the wheelchair, the bindings. Tried to wrestle free.

Failed.

Tried again, but he was secure.

His eyes widened with confusion and fear. “What are you doing? Where am I?”

Giovanni set the bucket of rose petals on the ground. “How did I do there a moment ago? When I said I hadn’t expected you to be awake? Did I have you convinced? It’s important for me to know; I’ve really been working on my acting.”

“What?” A tremor in his voice.

“The truth is, I was waiting for you to wake up.”

Thomas let his gaze travel around the barn and then land on the dog. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“My name is Giovanni and I murder people, and you’re about to become my next victim.”

Thomas became frantic. Struggled uselessly to get free. “Let me out of here!”

Giovanni walked to the wheelchair and disengaged the wheel locks.

His captive tried desperately to pull his arms and legs free, but the duct tape snugged tighter the more he strained against it.

He positioned the wheelchair so that the man’s knees were under the cage and his chest was less than a foot from the feeding door’s opening.

Nadine seemed pleased.

“No,” Thomas cried again. “Please stop. Please.”

“On Thursday night I gave a man who was about to die the option of wearing a gag,” Giovanni said. “I’d like to extend the same courtesy to you, although I should probably tell you that I’m not expecting your situation to last as long as his did, so it might not even be worth the trouble.”

Nadine shoved her muzzle through the bars and snapped. Growled.

“Why are you doing this?” Thomas’s voice was becoming shrill, girlish.

“I did bring one along however,” Giovanni said, ignoring Thomas’s question, “just in case, and I’ll be glad to accommodate you, if you like.”

“What do you want?” Thomas’s voice had fallen from a shriek to a whispered plea. “Please, don’t do this. You don’t have to do this. What do you want? Money? I can get you money. A million. I swear.”

Giovanni took that as a no regarding the gag. So, two for two. Maybe his victims weren’t taking him seriously enough. Next time he would make sure he’d been unequivocally clear about their situation. He set the wheel locks so that the chair wouldn’t roll back from the cage once things got started.

Then he stepped back. “Now, in Pamfilo’s story, after your death your wife is supposed to join a convent and live a godly and abstinent life, but in today’s culture that seems unlikely. I decided instead that I would just help her along with the abstinence part. The surgery is relatively simple. I’ll be visiting Marianne as soon as we’re done here. I promise not to make her suffer long. That should be of some comfort to you.”

“No, please-”

He placed one hand gently on Bennett’s shoulder. “I want you to look carefully at that dog. It’s very important to me that you visualize what’s about to happen.” Then he unbuttoned Thomas’s shirt to reveal his bare chest.

To make it easier for Nadine to get to her meal.

The lock gave me more trouble than I thought it would, and when I heard yelling from inside the barn, I was getting ready to shoot it out after all-Click.

Finally.

Gun ready, I pressed the door open, swept the room.

The clean, musky scent of leather.

Saddles, halters, bridles hanging on the walls. Two grooming kits on the floor with fly spray, liniment, and brushes.

The tack room.

Nothing.

No one.

A door on the far wall.

I ran toward it, eased it open, and stepped into the dusty, muted light of the barn.

A network of shadows skirted along the wall. Just to my right, a thick wooden ladder led to the hayloft that darkened this corner of the barn even more. I was still out of sight. Good.

My heart raced.

I edged around the corner of an empty horse stall and scanned the barn.

To the left, rows of hay bales and two horse stalls. Rusted farm equipment. A tractor. A few gasoline cans. To the right, four more horse stalls. Tarps. Boards. Rolls of twine. Several buckets, two containing water, one sweet feed, the fourth empty. A few bridles hanging from hooks on the wall nearby.

A typical barn.

Except for the hanging cage.

And the dog.

There were two men beside the cage. One in a wheelchair, the other with his back to me.

John.

Six foot, maybe six-one. Medium build. Jeans. Black sweatshirt. Black ski mask.

Not much to go on, it could be almost anyone.

I could see the side of the victim’s face and I recognized him from his DMV photo as Thomas Bennett. I couldn’t see the suspect’s hands. I had to assume he was armed.

If I shouted for the killer to step aside, he might kill the man. I needed to move on him, but I needed to play this right.

Nadine snarled, a green fire in her eyes.

“Well, then,” Giovanni said, reaching for the feeding door’s latch.

“Let’s get started.”

When I heard the words I knew I couldn’t wait.

I stepped out of the shadows. “Stop!” I aimed my gun at the suspect’s center mass. “Hands to your side and step away from the cage.”

Giovanni froze. He recognized that voice.

Bowers.

Impressive.

Impeccable timing.

The suspect didn’t move. His back was still toward me.

I edged closer. “Hands to the side and turn around. Do it now or I will shoot. Hands out, now!”

He didn’t move.

“He’s gonna kill me!” Thomas Bennett hollered.

“Show me your hands!” Then I heard a metallic snap, the suspect lifted his arms, and that’s when Thomas Bennett began to scream.

The next two seconds were a blur.

The suspect dove toward the jumbled network of hay bales, and I saw the dog thrust its head through a small door in the cage, lunging toward Thomas Bennett’s chest.

No!

I eyed down my SIG at the dog.

Giovanni was rolling beneath the gate of an empty horse stall when he heard the shot.