Among The Missing by Richard Laymon

Author:Richard Laymon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: Murder, Horror, General, Fiction, Horror & Ghost Stories, Suspense fiction, Sheriffs, California, Modern fiction, Murderers
ISBN: 0843947888
Publisher: Headline Feature
Published: 1999-01-07T05:00:00+00:00

"That." Ina pointed at the strange arrangement of chairs and shotgun. "Was that meant for Bass?"

"Apparently."

"My God!"

"You'd better wait here. I'll take a look upstairs."

Nodding, Ina lowered herself onto the couch. "Don't take long, okay?"

"I'll hurry."

Pac went to the stairway. She took the steps slowly and silently, her .45 ready and her eyes searching. Though much of the house was still light with the early evening sun slanting through windows, the stairs were obscured by shadow. She kept her left hand low, brushing the carpet of the higher stairs, hoping to feel an unseen tripwire if the stairway, too, was booby trapped.

She reached the top of the stairs. The bathroom door stood open. So did the door of the study across from it. Looking down the hall, she saw that the doors of both bedrooms stood open. She would search each room. The bathroom first; it was the nearest.

She shoved the bathroom door. It swung and bumped the rubber stop. Entering, she glanced into the tub.

Nobody.

She turned to leave.

"Pac!"

She rushed to the head of the stairs and looked down at Ina. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's coming. I heard a car."

"Get away from the door."

Ina dodged out of sight.

Pac dropped to her knees. She heard footsteps on the front porch. Keys jangled. She lowered herself to a prone position that gave her a full view of the front door and an easy shot at anyone who might enter.

She heard the metallic ratchet of a key pushing into a lock.

The knob turned. The door opened. Bass Paxton started to step inside, then let out a startled gasp and lurched away from the shotgun.

"Bass," Ina said. "It's all right. It's safe. You can come in."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"The shotgun's disconnected," Pac called down to him. "And I put its safety on."

"Who is that?" he asked, squinting up the stairs. "Pac?"

"Right," she told him. She stood, bolstered her pistol, and started down the stairs.

"I don't suppose this shotgun belongs to either of you?"

"Somebody left it for you," Pac said.

He stepped quickly past the muzzle and into his house. "I've been needing a new shotgun," he said.

"You told me you'd be here," Ina blurted. "We called and you didn't answer. We were so worried, Bass. We thought . . . something might've happened to you."

"Something happened, all right -- I got hungry."

"You shouldn't have gone off."

"I'm not so sure of that." He gave the shotgun a glance.

Pac joined them in the living room. "What time did you leave here?" she asked.

"About five."

"After you left, someone apparently broke in through your back door and set up this booby trap."

"The thing would've cut me in half."

"Wouldn't have done you any good," Pac said. "Assuming it's loaded."

"You don't know if . . . ?"

"I haven't touched it except to put on the safety. Didn't want to risk ruining any evidence. But it probably is loaded. Somebody went to a lot of trouble to set this thing up. Do you have any ideas who might've done it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck.

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