Jeff Strand - Graverobbers Wanted - No Experience Necessary

I touched my hand to my cheek. I hadn't even realized I was crying.

"I'm so sorry, Andrew..." said Roger. They were having trouble getting the metal band off his arm, and it didn't look like he'd be free anytime soon. "I didn't see it coming."

"Do you know who it was?"

"No. I was knocked out with something, and when I came to I was in the back of a van. I couldn't see who was doing it...I was just dumped off here."

"Was it more than one person?"

"I don't think so. They used a cart or something, so one person could have done it alone."

I turned toward the crowd of police officers. "I have to go home," I said. "I have to find the person who did this on my own. He has my kids and he has four other prisoners. If he thinks there's any police involvement, any at all, he'll kill them. He doesn't want anyone else playing his game."

"That's crazy," said Bruce. "You've got it narrowed down to five suspects. We'll just round `emup and bring `emin!"

"No! If he sees any cops, my kids are dead! He'll kill them before you finish knocking!"

"We at least can have people keep an eye on you," said Tony. "Plainclothes cops. They'll blend in. He'll never know they're there."

I shook my head. "Please, you've got to stay completely out of this. All of you." I pointed to The Dismemberment Game. "Look at what kind of stuff this guy sets up! I mean, do you honestly believe he'll hesitate to kill my children? I don't know what his resources are, I don't know who he has working for him, I don't know anything except that if thereisany police involvement in this matter, there's a really good chance that I'll never see my kids alive again. Please, let me do what I have to do."

A middle-aged man in gray pants and a rumpled dress shirt stepped forward. "My name is JamesGeldern , Chamber County Chief of Police. We'll get your friend out of there. Go get your kids."

"I mean it, you can't have me followed," I insisted.

"We won't have you followed. The mind that created a contraption like this is not the kind of mind I want to make angry. Now get the hell off police property before something like this happens again."

"Thank you." I looked at Roger. "You'll be okay, don't worry."

"I'm sorry, Andrew...I tried to do something but I..."

"Forget about it. It wasn't your fault."

I walked away from the police parking lot and onto the sidewalk. Theresa and Kyle would be okay. Everything would turn out okay. It had to.

In my mind I heard the delighted cackle of a wicked witch. "Would you like to see my little puppet show,dearies ? Fifty-eight bites between the two of you! Don't forget, my puppets love it when youscreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaam ."

Chapter 20

TWO BLOCKS from the police station I reached a pay phone. It had to be safe to call a cab...the killer couldn't expect me to spend a couple of hours walking home. After being told the cab would be there in about ten minutes, I leaned against the brick wall of a hardware store and waited.

Sharpened skull fangs, digging into Kyle'sleg ....

No! That wasn't going to happen!

I had to put my kids out of my mind and focus on the problem. Focus on the riddle.

One after the creation of the other.

Letters to grandma and a condom.

What did a letter create?Happiness.Knowledge.Waste paper. What else?Aletterwas a creation, not something that created.

What could possibly be the creation of a condom, besides something icky to throw away after it was used?A sense of security?A sense of protection?

How could any of this relate to the video?

I kicked the wall in frustration.

Okay, I had another problem to deal with. Should I call Helen and tell her that our kids were currently in the hands of a murderer?

All my instincts said no, absolutely not. Because Helen would certainly not sit in her hospital bed and wait for news. She might demand that the police try to find her babies. She might hop into a wheelchair and look herself.

No, I couldn't tell her. It was too dangerous.

If Theresa and Kyle died, she'd hate me forever.

No she wouldn't. She would never hate me.

Ididn'tthink she would.

Anyway, none of this mattered because the kids were going to be fine.One hundred percent fine.

Ihadto stop thinking about them! The riddle was the important thing right now!

"What the hell does it mean?" I said out loud, not caring if anyone overheard me.

By the time the taxi arrived, I still had no answer.

THE LIBRARY wasn't quite on the way home, but it was a small enough detour that I felt reasonably safe in asking the cabbie to drive by where I'd left my car. If it was still there, I'd have access to the physical clues instead of having to rely on my memory.

It had already been towed.

I told the cabbie to take me home.

WHEN I got there I was surprised to find that Helen's car, now sporting a shattered windshield and a broken passenger-side window, was parked in the driveway. At first I thought Roger and the kids hadn't even gotten away from the house before they were jumped, but then I noticed that there was no safety glass on the pavement. The car had been driven back here.

Theresa'sbookbag wasn't inside, but the tape rested on the seat. The killer clearly didn't want me to be without my clue.

The first thing I did after I went inside was dial the number to Michael's cellular phone, hoping the killer would answer. He didn't.

I checked my watch. Eleven o'clock.One hour until I was supposed to be at the taping. One hour to either sit around the house and go absolutely positively totally freaking insane, or collect myself and try to figure out the clue.

The insane option sounded more appealing at the moment, but I forced myself to pop the tape back into the VCR, sit down on the couch, and watch the video again.

It was the same video, and my extra clues didn't provide any additional insights.

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and tried to relax. Maybe I was concentrating too hard. Maybe if I just lay there and let my thoughts flow freely, my subconscious might come up with something.

I tried that for about ten minutes. My subconscious didn't do squat.

I wondered if Theresa was sobbing now.Or screaming.

I watched the entire video yet again.

Nothing.

I paced around the house. Could the killer see me? Were Theresa and Kyle nearby?

And then it was eleven forty-five.Time to go.

CHAMBER DOESN'T have what you would call a slum, but the address was definitely in the poorest section of town. Didn't seem like the kind of area where the residents would have the extra income to pay to be the stars of their own horror movie.

I drove to the very end of the street, past some kids playing basketball using a hoop without netting, and into the driveway of a dilapidated two-story house that looked like it should be located next to an old graveyard at midnight.

There were no other cars in the driveway.

I checked to make sure I had the right address, and then got out of the car. Either everyone else was late, or there wasn't really a taping here.

Could everyone in Ghoulish Delights be in on it?

Or were none of them ever told to come here?

Nobody else had been around when Rachel gave me this address. It could have been a setup from the very beginning.

Well, I'd find out in short order.

I walked up to the front door and rung the doorbell. I didn't hear any buzzing or chiming from inside, so I figured it wasn't working. Not a big surprise. I knocked loudly, waited about thirty seconds, and then knocked again.

No answer. That wasn't a big surprise either.

I tried to peek through the windows, but the curtains were drawn. I tested the doorknob.Unlocked.

Could Theresa and Kyle be in there? Could the killer have made it that easy?