The Whisper Box (23 page)

Mac heard something off in the distance. It was a low rumble. The roar was not constant. It had an uneven tempo. As he got closer he realized it was an engine of some sort. He came upon a small cliff that looked down into a valley. There were four small John Deere excavators and one dump truck clearing some trees. He looked beyond the machines and saw four newly constructed houses. This was a subdivision in its earliest stages. He saw the first house had a sign in front of it. This had to be the model home. There had to be some office equipment in there. He hoped there would be a computer. It was only 7:15am. There would be no one in that model for at least one hour.

Mac began taking the long way to the model home. He stayed in the woods the entire time, circling around the construction sight. When he got to what would be the back yard for the model home he ducked below a thin bush and checked the area. The excavators and their operators were at least one hundred yards from him now. There was no one that could possibly see him. He made one last inspection of the area and darted for the back door.

Once he was there, he removed his thick jacket and wrapped it around his fist. He punched through one of the small panes of glass on the white French door leading into the kitchen. The sound of breaking glass only lasted for a few seconds. He unwrapped the jacket from his hand and inspected it for any glass fragments or cuts. He found neither and reached his hand through the opening and unlocked the bolt from the inside. He was tempted to collapse on the couch and just fall asleep but did not have the time. He walked into the living room and saw a big, stained oak desk. Right on top of the desk was an expensive computer. It had a scanner, speakers, and a small camera. This real estate company spared no expense. He turned it on and waited for it to boot up. As he waited for it to boot up he picked up the phone next to the computer and jotted down the phone number that someone inserted into the small plastic window below the earpiece.

When the desktop finally appeared Mac's eyes scanned every little icon on the screen. He spotted the AOL icon and hoped that the phone numbers and passwords were preloaded. When he clicked on the icon it began dialing and showed where the passwords were already filled in with little asterisks. This made his day as he let out a deep breath and whispered a soft 'Thank You'.

When he got to the homepage of AOL he quickly went up to the address bar and typed in his e-mail server’s address. Once there he typed in his personal address to access his personal account. He addressed his new message to Grant Winchester.

Grant—

I cannot tell you what I've been through the past twelve hours. I have been chased, shot at and had to kill three men in defense of myself. How in the world do I set up a meeting with you? Your help is imperative right now as I am running on empty. I have broken every law I can think of and do not know what to do next. I cannot believe I am still alive. Please, sir, I am begging you. I need help immediately! I need you to send me a phone number where I can speak to you directly, or call me at 202 - 555 - 0944. I do not know how long I'll be here. Wait until you are sure it is I answering the phone, before you get too specific.

GMH3

He clicked the 'send' button and watched as the e-mail zipped off. He began to pace this fresh new home. He could still smell the fresh paint on the walls. The brand new carpet had an unmistakable scent to it. The furniture that this Real Estate Company had moved in was flawless. The beds were plump and perfectly made. The kitchen was spotless. He went through all of the cabinets and only found a box of crackers.

He walked around the corner and looked through the storm window. Standing on the front porch, staring at him through the window, was an older gentleman in his mid fifties. He was of average height but easily two hundred and twenty pounds. He had a thick gray and black mustache that matched his hair. Mac was terrorized by the sudden appearance of this man. He did not look like a killer. He was not dressed like the men in the cabin last night. Mac noticed his satin maroon jacket said Beaver Hill Construction in silver lettering across the upper left. The man knocked on the windowpane as if Mac did not see him.

Mac took a deep breath and just answered the front door. He made sure to stand behind it as he opened the door. The man could only see his scratched face. If he saw his dirty, torn clothes he would become suspicious immediately. These minor brushes with trouble no longer fazed him. “Yeah, can I help you? You guys are here early.”

“Yeah, um, I'm the owner of the construction company. We are supposed to clear around the model today. Jim said that you guys wouldn't be here until Monday. We aren't gonna' bother you in here are we?”

Mac's jaw was stuck open. “Um, no, no. You guys go right ahead and clear whatever. I'm just fixing our computer, cleaning up a little, ya' know, last second things.”

“OK pal, we should be done by noon.” The construction worker walked off.

“Yeah noon, that's cool....” Mac's voice dropped off and faded away. There was not going to be anyone from the Real Estate Agency here for the next two days. Mac just sat on the couch laughing about his free, brand new home for the weekend. The phone worked; the electricity worked; the water worked, his smile was gleaming.

He found a toolbox in one of the closets in what was going to be someone's office some day and took out the heavy brown tape that was neatly tucked in the bottom left hand corner. He tore a big piece of cardboard off of two extra light fixture boxes that were being stored in the closet near the toolbox. He took both items to the French doors that he had bashed in a half-hour ago and taped up the broken window.

He headed for the shower next. There were show towels hanging on the racks in the bathroom. He would use those. The hot water running over his bruised and bettered body was wonderful. He really did not even wash much at all, just enjoyed the hot water massage. He wanted to stay in there for the rest of the morning but he feared that someone would come to the house while he was in the shower and would not be able to prepare some excuse, some reason for his presence there. He turned the shower off and dried himself.

Once he had his towel wrapped around his waist he went to the refrigerator hoping it was turned on. He swung the freezer door open and was hit with a revitalizing cool burst of air. The icemaker was full. He grabbed the show towels in the kitchen and filled two of them with ice. He turned the television on, planted his body on the long, white, extremely fluffy couch and applied one ice pack to his broken shoulder and the other to his snakebites. He sat there for an hour shifting the towels to get every bit of bruise, bite and break equally covered in ice. His body was begging him to go to the bedroom. He checked his e-mail quickly but found no new messages.

Mac pulled the thick, beige goose down comforter back to reveal the light blue flannel sheets. He pulled these back as well and positioned his body so there was not too much weight on his shoulder or snakebite. He pulled the covers back up over his body and drifted off into a deep sleep quickly. His mind drifted to his wife while he slept. He dreamt of her wearing her Sunday morning nightgown and smiling at him. He needed the sleep not only for his physical state but also for his mental state. She was a magnificent woman. She was Mac's perfect match. He smiled as he slept.

Mac woke up seven hours later at two o'clock in the afternoon. He stared at the ceiling for a minute listening for any movement in the den. Pulling his body out of bed was no easy chore in its current condition. Upon entering the living room the thought hit Mac about his email. He ran to the computer and raced into a sitting position like he did when he played musical chairs as a child. He clicked on the AOL icon and said a prayer as the computer ran through its process. Sitting in the well-maintained living room again reminded him of his beautiful wife. He missed her and could not wait to hold her again in his arms. He needed her right now but could not call her. He just trusted that she was OK at her mother's house in Cleveland. The computer finally booted up and Mac went to retrieve his mail.

19

Kathy Hart was a sweet woman. She was very active in the local church, and schools. She was an asset to the community.

She was a small woman, maybe five foot two. Her brown shoulder length hair was always up in a headband. She always wore clean, bright sweat suits that made her look ready for any town activity. Her red lipstick against her slightly tanned skin made her white teeth seem even whiter. She always wore a smile. She always appeared happy.

Kathy was now in Cleveland, Ohio staying with her mother not knowing any details about what her husband had gotten himself into. She was worried for their safety. Kathy told her mother nothing about her husband's situation. She simply told her that she wanted to get away for a few days while her husband consumed himself in a case. This was not hard to believe because he did do this from time to time. She held nothing against him for it because he was a good, loving husband. She took the opportunity to travel to Cleveland often.

After a few days in Cleveland, Kathy had to get out of the house. Her mother was driving her crazy. She had not been to the Century Mall in years and could not wait to go back. When she was in high school she would hang out there on the weekends with her friends. Her mother stayed behind as she jumped in the car and drove to the outskirts of Cleveland to reminisce.

She experienced deja-vu more in the one hour she spent walking around the mall than ever before in her life. She could almost hear her friends as they shrieked for each other to come see an outfit or a boy. She enjoyed the time there because it took her mind off of the horrible thoughts she kept having about the safety and health of McFarland.

On the way home she drove by her high school. She got out and walked around the parking lot than under the bleachers where she first kissed Billy Tennor, the quarterback of Saint Anthony's High School football team. She walked the sidelines and pictured herself leading the cheers at the football games. She smiled about her youth and decided to head home. It had been over two hours now and her mother would begin to get worried.

Kathy walked in the house and called to her mother to tell her she was home. “Mom? Did Mac call while I was gone?”

There was no answer. Kathy walked down the hall into her mother's bedroom. “Mom? Are you here?”

The silence made the hair on her forearm stand straight up.

She began to think the worst but she forced herself to remain calm. This worked until she saw the spot of blood on the beige carpet leading into the television room. Frantic, she was now screaming for her mother, “Mom? Mom?”

As she ran through the sliding glass door that led to the family room and screened in porch she was pulled aside with tremendous force. The man dressed in a black leather jacket with the black leather gloves pulled her into him. She was stunned that something so frightening was actually happening to her. As the man pulled her to his chest, she saw her white sweatshirt turn red. She looked down at her chest to see a once white shirt now stained deep amber red. The man was covered in blood and now she was too. She looked up on the wicker couch with the green cushions and saw her mother. Her left arm was twisted around and lying across her chin. Obviously broken, her right leg was bent up so her foot was by her mid section. Covered in blood, her eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. She was clearly dead.

Kathleen Hart let out a scream for less than two seconds until the man landed a right hand to her temple. Her body crumpled to the ground. The intruder would tie her up, leave her in plain view of her mother and wait for her to wake up.

Tied tight in an extremely uncomfortable wooden chair, the first thing she noticed as she regained consciousness was her dead mother. Next, was the movie camera whose red light was on, sitting on top of the counter in the kitchen. Kathy screamed again and then passed out. The next three hours were in and out of consciousness. Shock had set in. Finally awake, with her head hanging chin to chest.

The intruder began, “I thought it was you. She looked good for an older lady. You see her over there? That was supposed to be you.”

Kathy began to sob loudly. In between loud wails of sorrow she would plead and question the murderer. “Why? No, no, no! Oh God why, why, why?”

“Where is he right now?” He was pointing a finger in her face as he spoke.

“Oh, Oh God, please help me.” She almost did not hear the man.

He smacked her across the face with a firm hand and then resumed his pointing while gritting his teeth. “Did you hear me? ”

Kathy was now shrieking louder than before. “I have no idea! I swear, I have no idea! He won't tell me anything. I swear it!”

The man delivered a blow to her nose and forehead that knocked her unconscious again. The chair fell straight back and her limp body made a thud as it hit the floor.

She awoke again fifteen minutes later. The man was staring at her while he unbuckled his belt. “You wanna' talk now Kathy?”

“Please, I swear he told me nothing to protect me! I swear he told me nothing!”

The man removed his belt. He walked to her chair and tipped it over so she was face down but still tied to the chair. He straddled the chair, unrolled the leather belt and gave her a whipping across her back.

“He told you nothing to protect you? I guess it didn’t work, huh? If you don’t give me any answers Kathy, I will kill you right now.”

Just before Kathy passed out again, she saw the man standing next to her holding her mother’s butcher knife.

************

While Emily’s father in law took the children to the grocery store she walked around the house looking at pictures on the wall of her husband as a baby. She laughed at some of the pictures and cried at others. Her emotions were in fifth gear right now. With every minute that passed without a ringing phone came more fear.

Emily heard a noise coming from the deck. It was a loud thumping sound. Her heart began to increase its tempo. She was afraid to even turn around. She walked slowly down the hallway with her left hand holding the wall as she inched further. She let out a very weak, “Hello?” as she walked.

She was now around the corner from the kitchen where the door to the deck was. She looked up into the dining room that adjoined the hall and the kitchen. There was a china cabinet that had a glass front. She could see into the kitchen through the reflection off of the china cabinets’ glass doors.

The door to the deck was closed and she could not make out anyone on the deck. She inched closer again until she heard the thump louder than before. It seemed like it was right next to her this time. Her body was shivering in fear as her eyes began to tear. She thought about just staying there for as long as it took whatever it was to go away but the deck was on a straight path with the driveway. Her father in law would come home with both kids and whoever it was out there might panic and start firing. She had to proceed on.

She took two more steps toward the kitchen, never taking her eyes of the china cabinet. Another loud thud echoed throughout her body. She jumped when the sound waves hit her. It was loud, but sounded hollow. Just then, as she thought about the familiarity of the sound, she saw him.

Barabus, her father in law's German shepherd, was standing up against the trashcans adjacent to the deck. The vicious dog was almost one hundred pounds of black and brown furry muscle. It had something or someone pinned up against the house. She ran to the door feeling much safer now that Barabus had whatever or whoever it was in his jaws. She peeked her head outside to see the dog digging his teeth into a McDonalds wrapper. He had obviously gotten it out of the trashcans and now was standing over one large blue plastic can and holding the wrapper up against the house. Every time he laid his weight up on the trashcans they clunked together with a hollow thud. Emily rushed to the door and let the dog in the house. She stroked his mane and corralled him next to her. She felt safe with this intimidating dog by her side.

Aaron's father was not going to let this recent situation affect his grandchildren. He decided that no matter what happened he would not let his beautiful grandchildren see any weakness. He believed that if he stayed happy and strong, they would too. Children could sense fear. They could sense trouble more than grown-ups could. He knew it and refused to put them in that position and though he worried for his son he trusted him too. He knew his son was pretty tough and truly believed he could take care of himself. The rest would take care of itself.

Grandpa Gallo took the kids to the grocery store that afternoon. Matty had taken a likening to strawberries over the last two months from what Emily explained. Grandpa bought a pound of strawberries. Emily stayed back at the house against Mr. Gallo's wishes to wait for a phone call from Aaron.

Grandpa was putting Matty in her car seat when the first bullet rang out across the parking lot. At first, Anthony Gallo had no idea that the bullet was meant for him. He stuffed Matty in the car and made sure his grandson was tucked in the back seat as well. He huddled down in the back seat with them together leaving his buttocks exposed outside the car. The second bullet hit its target and Grandpa collapsed to the black top.

Both children were screaming. Grandpa almost ignored the pain after he realized that he had just been shot. He pulled his body up into the car to check on the children and let them see that he was fine. Then the animal inside him took over. He backed out of the car, eyes bulging out of his head; ready to kill whomever it was that was endangering his two beautiful grandchildren. The men were standing outside the door of their black Lincoln using the roof to brace their shooting arms. When they realized that he had spotted them they jumped in the car to leave the scene. Grandpa knew that the kids would be safe in the car. He screamed to an older woman in the parking lot to watch his kids. He started to hobble after the Lincoln. He slashed through a row of cars to cut the Lincoln off before it exited the lot. His right fist went crashing through the driver's window.

He latched onto the driver's hair and started screaming. “You mother fucker! I'll kill you, you mother fucker! Pull this piece of shit over you mother fucker!”

The driver concentrated on driving only and let the passenger take care of the wild man hanging in their window. The passenger raised his pistol to Anthony Gallo's head and fired. The old man moved his head just as the gunman fired. The bullet ran down the side of his head, removing his left ear and going into his left shoulder and exited the back of his left shoulder blade. Anthony Gallo was thrown from the car that sped off. His body rolled across the concrete.

The old woman tending to the children dialed 911 on her cell phone. The ambulance was there in four minutes. Aaron's wife was notified back at the house. She met the ambulance at the hospital and hugged her children as the waited outside the Emergency Room for some kind of news. Emily hoped her innocent father-in-law would live. The old woman that tended to the children in the parking lot was also there. She was a kind woman who said she was a witness. She explained everything to Emily. She told Emily that her father in law saved the lives of the two children. They both sat there in tears waiting for news from the operating room. Emily shook at the thought of breaking this news to her husband.