Chapter 9


                                                                                                                   Chapter 10

"We're going to his house now, so if you wouldn't mind, could you keep Buster for a little while longer?"
There had been silence on the other end all through his slightly edited story, and now there was a long sigh.
"I was just about to call you . . . Buster took off. I don't know how he did it, but he opened the sliding glass door and ran out."
John looked at the phone for a moment. This couldn't be happening now; not when they were so close to Kingsley's house.
John knew that Buster could open sliding doors, if they weren't locked, but he didn't do it often and he rarely ran off. Paul's house was nearby, and John was sure that they could find Buster quickly if they tried. He also realized that if Buster decided he had to be somewhere else, he would keep running, and nothing would stop him. John tried not to be concerned. Buster didn't run off very often, but John knew that he would come back. He always did.
"We're nearby, and if you need us to stop by, we can. I don't know if it will help though. He probably found himself a girlfriend and they took off to be alone for a while."
"Don't worry, we're looking for him now and we will find him. You just deal with your problems and we'll deal with this one." Paul said.
John said that they would be finished soon and pushed end on his cell phone.
"Is everything ok?" Julie asked.
He told her about Buster's disappearing act and when she looked concerned mentioned that Buster was apt to do this now and again.
John pulled up the long drive to the secluded house on the hill that belonged to Donald Kingsley. The house was three stories above ground and looked like a mansion. A glass covered elevator stood on the corner of the large manor and several new cars were parked under a large tarp at the end of the drive. John pulled his vehicle to a stop on the end of the line of cars, hoping that it would not be noticed too soon. The large house stood seemingly empty, which was a surprise because the sheer size of it seemed to call for servants.

John grabbed his gun from the bag as he watched Julie open the door and move quietly down the row of cars. A large window, curtains open, revealed a study or library of some sort. Several books were encased in a large glass box, including the book that seemed to be controlling, or at least influencing his fate. They continued along the face of the building, looking in windows in the hopes of seeing where the author was and what he was doing. If he was even at home right now.
A rumbling noise camed to his ears as he passed the elevator, and the glass seemed to vibrate. They hid behind a shrub that was shaped like a book; some gardener's idea of funny, he supposed. The elevator moved down from the top floor, carrying the writer toward the lower levels. Kingsley wore a long black robe with strange red markings that were barely visible in the darkening evening. He held several items that seemed a bit unusual; a large book, two bones, some candles, and various other things too small to see from where they hid.
"What do you think? Should we ring the bell, or not? 'Cause I think that we should sneak in, and find out what all that was about." She looked at him and smiled. The mischievous look in her eyes was precious, and he thought that she could surely be the one for him, if they lived through this. As the elevator disappeared underground, John grabbed her and kissed her eagerly. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the feel of her against him, and the passionate way that she returned his kiss. This woman was so free, so unique.
"You're wonderful." She said when he released her, her words echoing his own thoughts.
"Let's go."
She turned and headed toward the house. They moved around the property, searching for an unlocked door, or window, but found none. The front door was unlikely to be open, but it was their last hope, short of breaking a window, or ringing the bell.

The porch housed a large door. It seemed to John that it was at least nine feet tall and wide enough for two or three people to enter at the same time. A dead bolt and a keyed lock on the knob where the only apparent restrictions to entry. John reached out, his heartbeat beginning to accelerate, and slowly turned the knob. It turned freely under his hand and the door pushed open, unrestrained.
"Hmm, someone may just be rolling out the welcome mat. We should be extra watchful, I don't trust this." She said, once again echoing his thoughts. He nodded to her and moved inside the foyer.
John stepped in silently, Julie behind him, and surveyed the hallway beyond. Down the hall from the foyer John could see a room that appeared to be a visitors salon. To the left was the library that they had seen and to the right there were two doors. It was an amazing house.
John felt a little stupid, standing in the foyer, appreciating the house of a man that was trying to kill him, just to sell books. He couldn't help it, the real estate agent within him was appreciating the size and beauty of it all.
He walked quietly down the hall, leaving the door open behind them. Shutting it would make even more noise, and Kingsley didn't need to be informed that they were in his home, if he didn't already know. The first door on the right was a game room, with a pool table and a well-stocked bar. The elevator in the corner was the only other way out of the room. He continued down the hall. The elevator would alert the writer to their presence. He must have stairs around here somewhere, in case of emergency. The second door on the right had a formal dining table at its center. A door stood on the other side of the beautifully carved cherry wood furnishings. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered as quietly as he could. "The stairs are probably off the kitchen, I doubt that this guy would have such a formal house and then put the stairs where the visitors could see them."

Julie nodded her agreement and they rounded the table and moved to the door on the other side of the room. John pushed the swinging door open slowly, praying that it wouldn't squeak. The door opened silently into an empty kitchen that was stainless steel, floor to ceiling. It gave him the feeling of being on a submarine, surrounded only by metal casing and the oppressive ocean pushing to get in. He looked at the small niche in the wall that housed the stairs and suddenly felt very dizzy. What would they find down there?
Shaking his head, trying to clear it, he walked to the narrow staircase. The steep incline and decline of the two side-by-side stairs made him think of the funhouses that he had seen at carnivals as a child. He was almost sure that they would find them getting narrower and narrower until finally they could proceed no further. He took a deep breath and Julie's hand, holding both tightly before releasing them carefully. When he felt strong enough, he started down the stairs.


Chapter 11