The Bone House

Amy bit her lip and said nothing. She cursed herself in her head. She didn't want to give him a roadmap that would lead him anywhere near Katie. Or Hilary. Tell someone, send someone.

'OK, Amy, we'll do it the hard way.'

He stood up, and she could feel his presence above her, growing more ominous. She tensed, waiting for whatever was coming next, knowing it would be bad. Even so, she swore to herself that she wouldn't cry and she wouldn't beg. Not to him. Not in front of this monster. She just had to buy time and hope that someone would look for her. Come to the door. Find her.

At that moment, someone did.

Downstairs, she heard a muffled noise, and she realized it was the sound of the antique doorbell chiming. Gary flinched. Amy sucked in a breath to scream, but he anticipated her intention and was on her immediately, clapping a hand over her mouth. He squeezed her jaw, forcing her lips open, and jammed the ribbon of wet cloth back inside, choking her, cutting off any sound from her throat. When he was done, he slapped tape back across her mouth. She was mute again, other than a low squealing through her nose.

'I'll be back,' Gary said. He slammed the door of the room shut as he left.

She heard his muffled footsteps as he ran down the stairs. She fought, trying to move the bed and make a noise that would be heard below her, but she was running out of strength. She kept breathing through her nose, struggling to swell her lungs, but she began to cough bile into the thick gag. Panic made her gasp for air. Help me.

Somewhere in the house, she heard him talking. Gary had answered the door. She wanted to cry, knowing help was so close and yet out of her reach.

Find me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cab held up the folder with his Florida badge to the man who opened the door.

'Mr Jensen? My name is Cab Bolton with the Naples Police. I'm investigating the murder that occurred at the hotel where you were staying last Sunday. I believe you talked to someone in my department about the events you witnessed from your room that night.'

Gary Jensen looked flustered by Cab's arrival. His face was flushed, and he peered nervously over his shoulder. 'Oh. Oh, yes, Detective Bolton, of course. You took me by surprise. Your people told me that there would be a follow-up interview, but I just assumed it would be by phone. I didn't think you would come all the way up here to talk to me in person.'

'The victim in this case was from Door County,' Cab told him, 'so I've been conducting an investigation in that area. Since you're only an hour away, I thought it would be easiest to talk to you face to face.'

'Yes, of course.'

'I stopped by the university, and they told me you were home today.'

'Right. Good. I'm glad you found me.'

Cab stared past Gary Jensen at the gloomy interior of his house. 'Do you mind if I come in?'

'Oh, yes, yes, I'm sorry. Please. Come in.'

'I apologize if this is a bad time. I should have called you first. It's a bad detective's habit, I'm afraid. We show up unannounced.'

'No, come in. This is fine.'

Jensen swung open the door and gestured with his hand. Cab stepped over the threshold into the foyer, which was dimly lit. Ahead of him, twisting stairs with an ornate iron banister wound to the second level. He saw a living room furnished with dark wood and heavy furniture immediately on his left, but Jensen pointed the opposite way down the hallway. The walls were lined with framed photographs of college teams in action.

'I could use a Coke while we talk,' Jensen said. 'I'm pretty dry. Do you mind?'

'Not at all.'

Jensen led him through swinging doors into a compact kitchen with dated yellow appliances. He checked his watch and switched on a radio as he passed the counter, and Cab heard the dialogue of a sports talk program. The volume was oddly loud. Jensen opened the refrigerator and popped a can of Coke and gestured at Cab.

'You want one?'

'No, thanks. Do you mind turning down the radio?'

Jensen made the volume marginally lower. 'Sorry, the spring training report is coming up next. The Brewers are in Maryvale.'

Cab shrugged but didn't protest further. He took a seat at the kitchen table and pointed the chair outward where he could extend his legs. Jensen took a seat opposite him and drank his Coke straight from the can. The man acted uncomfortable, but Cab wasn't surprised. Most people lost their bearings when a police officer showed up on their doorstep. He liked the element of surprise, before witnesses had a chance to practice their story.

Other than his demeanor, there was nothing unusual about Gary Jensen. He was middle-aged but athletic, with a narrow face and pointed chin. There was no pouch of fat on his neck. He wore a navy blue fleece hoodie and mesh sweatpants and brightly colored Nikes. It was easy to imagine him as a college coach, intense and competitive, hollering on the sidelines at students who were substantially taller and larger than he was. The longer Jensen sat with Cab, the more the man made a show of relaxing. He eased back into the chair. A smile came back to his mouth, but it looked artificial and forced.

'Am I keeping you from something, Mr Jensen?' Cab asked.

The coach shook his head. 'Not at all.'

'I appreciate your calling us about what you saw.'

'Of course. I would have called sooner, but our bus left early in the morning on Sunday, so I had no idea that something had happened at the hotel. I saw news reports during the week, and I realized I should get in touch with your department.'

'I'm glad you did. I'd like to go over some of the details again, if you don't mind.'

'Yes, sure.'

'Are you a full-time employee at the university?' Cab asked.

'That's right.'

'Do you do anything other than coach?'

'I also teach physical education.'

'Did any other university employees participate in this trip to Florida?'

Jensen shook his head. 'No, it was just me and the students. We contracted with a local bus service for a vehicle and driver.'

'Did anyone else share your hotel room with you in Florida?'

'No, it was just me.'

Cab's eyes flitted to the ring on Jensen's left hand. 'Your wife didn't come with you?

'Sorry, I'm no longer married,' Jensen explained, twisting the ring. 'My wife passed away last year.'

'I'm very sorry.'

'Thank you.'

'So on Saturday night, you were alone in your room?' Cab asked.

'That's right.'

'Tell me what happened.'

Jensen took another swig from his can of Coke. 'I couldn't sleep. You know what hotel beds are like. Around two thirty or so, I took a cigar out on the balcony and figured I'd relax with a smoke. My room faced the Gulf. Great view. Big moon. I think I was on the tenth floor. Anyway, I sat outside for about half an hour or so. I don't know what time it was, but at some point, I saw a man walking from the hotel down to the beach right below me.'

'Can you describe him?' Cab asked.