The Silence at Mystery Bay (A Thomas Austin Crime Thriller Book 8) by D.D. Black

Author:D.D. Black [Black, D.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Darkness and Light Publishing
Published: 2024-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Where was his jacket? And why was he only wearing one shoe?

The basement was cold. He knew he’d been wearing a jacket when it all happened. It was his favorite jacket, a light one, almost a windbreaker. He liked to wear a thin cashmere sweater with a light jacket. It's what his father had always worn.

He blinked rapidly. His head was clearing.

Clearing from what?

He looked down at his side and saw a little spherical piece of cardboard. Not spherical, more like an O shape. What was that? It was like a big Cheerio made of cardboard. He shook out his head.

Duct tape. It was the empty roll of duct tape. Why had his abductor left that roll there? He didn't remember being duct-taped, but he had been.

He looked down at his hands. His wrists were not duct-taped.

Only his feet.

He was holding his wrists together tightly as though they were bound, so tightly they’d been rubbed red and raw.

What the hell was going on?

He blinked rapidly and shook his head. It was as though a bright rainbow fog had taken over his brain and was slowly lifting. His hands were free. Only his ankles were taped and… he was remembering now…

He reached down and began to yank at the tape violently, crazily. His mind flashed with memories.

He didn't remember being in this room with another person. In a moment, he realized he could not yank himself free of the duct tape. Instead, he had to slowly and methodically find the end of the tape and carefully detach it, going in loops, reversing the order in which it was wrapped. It took minutes, but he slowly removed the tape, and, as he did, he remembered.

He had taped his ankles himself.

Then the memories came like a wave, a tortured, bloody wave. He had come here on his own, back to where they’d made him watch the videos. He hadn’t known what else to do.

Where was his jacket? And his shoe.

He was so cold.

Finally free of the tape, and balancing himself carefully, he stood. His legs were stiff.

It took him a moment to get steady on his feet.

He was in a basement. Definitely a basement, but where? How far from the festival? He remembered running in the woods. Pricking his bare foot on something. His jacket falling off.

He remembered coming here. But where was it?

He was so cold. He had to go find his jacket. In the far corner of the basement, he found three stairs that led up to a little door. He opened the door and took in the beautiful smell of the forest.

The air was crisp and cold. It felt like snow.

Where was his jacket?

The colorful brain fog was lifting, the memories were coming back.

Memories of something horrible, something confusing. What had he done?

Then it struck him. He had one more person to kill.

He heard music and took off at a full sprint.

What had he done? What was he about to do?

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