William Bernhardt - Death Row

“He will be back very soon,” Aravena said.

“I’m hip to that, thank you. So what are you, his personal pet monster?”

She could tell the words stung. His face twitched. “You will never be able to break that pipe.”

Christina frowned. “I was beginning to get that idea. But-”

“But I can.” Aravena took a step forward.

Christina flinched. Her entire body tensed.

“I will not harm you,” Aravena said. He looked at the pipe beneath the basin. “May I?”

Christina didn’t understand any of this, but she figured this was not the time for a lengthy cross-examination. She scooted out of the way, letting Aravena slide in.

Aravena crouched beneath the sink and took the pipe in both of his powerful hands. And pulled.

His face turned white with effort. He grunted, sweated, twisted. His muscled arms trembled. And in less than thirty seconds, he had removed the pipe from the wall.

Water began to spew out. Aravena slid the handcuff off the end of the pipe, freeing Dr. Bennett.

“I am sorry I hurt you,” he said quietly.

Bennett pushed herself to her feet. It was evident she was in great pain, but she forced herself to move. “We need to get out of here.”

“I will help you.” Aravena shut off the overhead light, then poked his head out the door. Once he had ascertained that the coast was clear, he waved for them to follow.

They tiptoed through the kitchen, following the path Christina had blazed to get here. First Aravena, then the women, slid across the countertop. Only a few more steps, Christina told herself. Only ten more feet and we’ll be out of this hamburger house of horrors. She could call Ben and Mike and get the police out after Rothko and everything would be-

“Where do you think you’re going?”

All three froze in their tracks. Christina felt her heart sink.

It was him. Rothko. And he was pointing a gun at them.

“Don’t leave the party so soon, my friends,” he said, smiling. “I haven’t served the cake and ice cream yet.”

“Can’t you drive any faster?” Ben said.

Mike’s eyes were fixed on the road, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. “You know, Ben, most of the time you tell me I drive recklessly and nag at me to slow down.”

“This is different,” he muttered. “Christina’s in there. I know she is. This is just the sort of thing she would do. Brash. Impulsive. Crazy.”

“If she’s so crazy, why do you work with her?” Baxter asked.

“Damn good question. She never does a thing I tell her.”

“Why would you want a partner who never does anything you tell her?”

“Now there’s a question,” Mike said, eyes still straight ahead. “Why would anyone want a partner who never does anything he tells her?”

Baxter gave him an evil look, but said nothing.

“Can’t you do something?” Ben urged. “Radio for backup, maybe?”

“I already did,” Mike answered. “On my cell phone. But we’ll get there before they do.”

“Damn!” Ben’s hands gripped the dash tightly.

Baxter leaned forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You really like this Christina, huh?”

Ben’s head turned. “We’ve been working together a long time.”

“So it’s a working relationship?”

“I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her,” Ben said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.” He whipped his head around. “Can’t you drive any faster, Mike?”

Mike pursed his lips. “I’ll see what I can do.” He shifted gears and floored it.

“My friends, you wound me,” Rothko said, swinging the gun in the air. “Leaving so soon. Without saying good-bye?” He was smiling the entire time he spoke. Remarkably amiable, for a cold-blooded killer, Christina thought. Almost psychotically so.

“And it appears that you’ve caused some property damage.” His eyes darted momentarily to the back, where water was spilling out of the bathroom. “I’ll have to dock your pay, Gabriel.”

Aravena’s face was set. He did not say a word.

“And who might you be?” he asked, finally turning his attention to Christina. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I work for Ben Kincaid,” she answered. “And he knows I’m here.”

“Does he?” He stepped forward, tossing her strawberry-blonde hair with the point of his gun. “No, I don’t believe he does. Because if he did, he’d be here already, wouldn’t he?”

“He’s slow,” Christina replied. “But certain.”

“Well, then he will be too late.” He pressed the gun against Christina’s cheek, tracing a line down the curve of her neck. “I’m afraid I can’t let any of you leave.”

“You’re going to kill us?” Bennett asked. Her face was red and streaked with tear trails. “All of us?”

“I don’t see that I have any choice.”

Christina tried to think of a way out of this mess. But the man was holding a gun barely inches away. There was nothing she could reach before he drilled her. And she had no doubt that he would do it. Not when she looked into his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” Christina asked. “Why did you kill those people?”

“Why should I tell you?” He took a step back and smiled. “That’s our little secret, isn’t it, Gabriel?”

Aravena stiffened.

“You won’t get away with this,” Christina said. “We’ll be missed. Our bodies will be discovered, even here. It’ll be traced back to you.”

“Ah. Now that’s where you’re wrong. Nothing has ever been traced back to me. Not for all these years. And your bodies will not be discovered.” Keeping the gun trained on them, he reached across the front counter to the nearest stove top. And turned on the gas.

Christina felt a cold chill run down her spine. “You’re going to burn the place down.”

“It isn’t much good to me like this. I had to close it. I don’t know why, but after a shooting takes place in a restaurant, no one ever wants to eat there again. I was planning to raze the joint and build a playground or something. This will just accelerate the process.”

“You’re going to kill us and then burn the bodies?” Bennett said. Her voice was dry and cracked.

“Well, I’m definitely going to burn the place down,” Rothko said. “And I’m definitely going to wound you so you can’t escape. But I didn’t say anything about killing you. That seems unnecessary.” A demented grin spread slowly across his face. “You’ll enjoy the fire so much more if you’re alive.”

“In there?” Ben said. “Burger Bliss?”

“In the closed and abandoned Burger Bliss, yes,” Mike muttered. “They shut this place down after the shooting incident. The one I botched.” He and Baxter exchanged a look. “It’s the perfect place for Rothko. He owns it; he controls it. He can restrict access. He undoubtedly has keys. And there’s no one else here. No one else even close, this time of night.”

“That’s Christina’s car!” Ben screamed. He pointed to an orange Dodge parked on a side road.

“That’s it, then.” Mike dimmed his lights and parked his car. “I’m going in.”

Baxter grabbed him by the shoulder. “Wait a minute, Mike. Think this out. Let’s wait for backup to arrive.”

“No way.” Mike shrugged her hand away and got out of the car. He quickly strapped on a bulletproof vest. “That’s how I played it last time I was here. And we both know how well that turned out.”

“Mike, you couldn’t have helped-”

“People died, Baxter. Because I screwed up. I tried to deny it, just as I tried to deny that you were right about Erin Faulkner. But the fact is, I blew it.” He checked his gun to make sure it was loaded. “I won’t let that happen again. Not if I can stop it.”