Twisted Window, The by Duncan Lois

Author:Duncan, Lois [Duncan, Lois]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thriller
ISBN: 978-1-4532-6337-2
Publisher: Open Road
Published: 1987-01-26T02:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

BRAD PULLED THE SCREEN door open and stepped into the room, keeping the hunting rifle leveled at the big man’s chest.

“Yes, the kid’s got a gun,” he said. “Keep your hands at your sides and don’t try anything stupid.”

“I was right! You are crazy!” Doug Carver’s normally florid face had turned the color of ivory. “Put that thing down, you idiot. It might accidentally go off.”

“If it goes off, it won’t be an accident,” Brad said evenly. “I’ve done a lot of hunting with this gun, and I know how to use it.” The pressure of the gun butt against his shoulder was reassuringly familiar. It brought back memories of deer trails in the Pecos Wilderness; of the pungent odor of dew-drenched pine needles in the early morning; of his father, turning to smile at him over his shoulder, his breath rising from his nostrils in little puffs of steam in the cold mountain air. “Do just as I tell you. Walk backwards into the kitchen.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tracy’s ashen face as she stared at him incredulously.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a whisper. “Where did you get that thing?”

“Stay back out of the way,” Brad warned her. “I don’t want to run the risk of having you block my shot. If you get between us, you’re probably going to get hurt.” With the gun still trained on Doug, he began to advance slowly toward him. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Get into the kitchen. That’s the way”—as the man took one cautious step backward and then another.” Keep moving back until you’re through the doorway. Now, turn to your left.”

“If this is a robbery, you’re not going to get much,” said Doug. “We’re not rich people. There’s no money stashed around here. All you’re going to find in my wife’s jewelry box is cheap imitation stuff. The only good pieces she owns are what she’s wearing tonight.”

“I don’t want your wife’s jewelry,” Brad said. “I only want what’s mine.”

“If you’re looking for drugs—”

“Stop talking and keep on walking.”

He moved steadily forward, keeping pace as Doug backed into the adjoining room. Across from them, on the far side of the kitchen, the window he and Tracy had peered through two nights before reflected the activity in the lighted room. In its depths he could see Doug’s broad back, encased in a gray pin-striped suit jacket, and beyond that, a slender, curly-haired boy holding a deer rifle. The boy’s face looked foreign to him, steely-eyed and oddly expressionless—the face of a stranger he had never seen before. At the same time, he knew the person with the gun was himself and that the unnatural effect could be attributed to the warp in the windowpane.

“What now?” Doug asked grimly. His voice was stiff with anger, but beneath that there ran an unmistakable undercurrent of fear.

Brad glanced quickly about him, trying to decide on the next step. When he had confiscated the grocery sacks, he had not bothered to fully close the door to the pantry.

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