trespassing,” Paul said.
Katherine didn’t respond, waiting for Paul to stop by the front entrance. She got out of the car, walked up to the front door, and pressed the doorbell. She waited for thirty long seconds but got no response. She tried the bell again, with the same result.
Paul got out of his car. “He’s gone, Katherine. Let’s get out of here.”
Ignoring Paul, Katherine lifted an enormous metal knocker in the center of the door and let it drop. The noise it made was loud enough to wake the dead, she thought. It also caused the door to move an inch. She turned around and said to Paul, “The door’s not locked.” She turned back to the door and pushed against it.
“Don’t go in there, Katherine,” Paul yelled, as he ran after her. By the time he reached the door, she was already inside, standing in the center of an entry half the size of a basketball court. A five-tier chandelier hung overhead; curved stairways rose to the next floor from each side of the entry.
“Hello, is anyone home?” Katherine shouted.
Paul grabbed her arm and groaned, “This is nuts. We can’t be in here.”
She shook off his hand and said, “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything but my beating heart.”
“Quiet, Paul. Listen.”
They stood in the center of that massive area and listened. A few seconds passed before a sound drifted down from somewhere above the first floor.
“You hear it now, Paul?”
He nodded. “Sounds like it’s coming from upstairs.” He moved toward the bottom of the left staircase and waited. This time the sound came louder. Moaning and then sobbing.
No longer hesitant, Paul moved up the stairs as quickly as his out-of-shape legs would allow. By the time he reached the next floor, Katherine sprinted past him. They fast-walked down the corridor to the left toward an ornate double door. Paul pulled Katherine back before she could grip the door handle and stepped in front of her. He pushed down on the handle and slowly opened the door. Katherine moved around Paul and stepped into the room. A tall, young blonde wearing a silk robe that draped her shoulders bent before a vanity table, her hands on the table supporting her, looking into a mirror. She was sobbing terribly. She had apparently not heard them enter.
“Miss,” Paul said.
The young woman whipped around and shrieked. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Paul had barely moved into the room, when his breath caught in his chest. The woman’s robe was open and she wore nothing beneath it. Not only was her face marked with red and purple bruises, but her chest, stomach, and thighs were also badly bruised.
A pained grimace swept her features. A high-pitched screech that turned into a scream filled the room. The woman clutched her robe around her and shouted, “Get out!”
Katherine put up her hands, palms out. “I’m sorry. We came to speak to Mr. Folsom. The door was open and we heard someone moaning and ran up here to help.”
The woman wiped the sleeve of her robe across her eyes. “Get out!”
“You look hurt, Miss. We can help.”
“Get out or I’ll call the police.” She started crying.
Paul walked forward, taking a business card out of his shirt pocket and placing it on the vanity. “If you need help, call me.” Then he turned and walked from the room.
Katherine backed out after Paul, turned in the hallway and followed him downstairs. They made their way back to the car and drove away, heading back to Katherine’s place.
“Did you see the bruises on her face, on her body?” Katherine asked once the house was out of sight.
“Yeah. She looked awful.”
“Folsom?” she asked.
“I guess?” Paul answered.
“The sonofabitch!”
“Still think you can reason with the man?”
CHAPTER TEN
Gerald Folsom sucked on a cut knuckle on his right hand. Probably shouldn’t have hit her so hard, he thought. He’d gotten carried away. The more she cried and pleaded, the more he was
Katherine didn’t respond, waiting for Paul to stop by the front entrance. She got out of the car, walked up to the front door, and pressed the doorbell. She waited for thirty long seconds but got no response. She tried the bell again, with the same result.
Paul got out of his car. “He’s gone, Katherine. Let’s get out of here.”
Ignoring Paul, Katherine lifted an enormous metal knocker in the center of the door and let it drop. The noise it made was loud enough to wake the dead, she thought. It also caused the door to move an inch. She turned around and said to Paul, “The door’s not locked.” She turned back to the door and pushed against it.
“Don’t go in there, Katherine,” Paul yelled, as he ran after her. By the time he reached the door, she was already inside, standing in the center of an entry half the size of a basketball court. A five-tier chandelier hung overhead; curved stairways rose to the next floor from each side of the entry.
“Hello, is anyone home?” Katherine shouted.
Paul grabbed her arm and groaned, “This is nuts. We can’t be in here.”
She shook off his hand and said, “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything but my beating heart.”
“Quiet, Paul. Listen.”
They stood in the center of that massive area and listened. A few seconds passed before a sound drifted down from somewhere above the first floor.
“You hear it now, Paul?”
He nodded. “Sounds like it’s coming from upstairs.” He moved toward the bottom of the left staircase and waited. This time the sound came louder. Moaning and then sobbing.
No longer hesitant, Paul moved up the stairs as quickly as his out-of-shape legs would allow. By the time he reached the next floor, Katherine sprinted past him. They fast-walked down the corridor to the left toward an ornate double door. Paul pulled Katherine back before she could grip the door handle and stepped in front of her. He pushed down on the handle and slowly opened the door. Katherine moved around Paul and stepped into the room. A tall, young blonde wearing a silk robe that draped her shoulders bent before a vanity table, her hands on the table supporting her, looking into a mirror. She was sobbing terribly. She had apparently not heard them enter.
“Miss,” Paul said.
The young woman whipped around and shrieked. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Paul had barely moved into the room, when his breath caught in his chest. The woman’s robe was open and she wore nothing beneath it. Not only was her face marked with red and purple bruises, but her chest, stomach, and thighs were also badly bruised.
A pained grimace swept her features. A high-pitched screech that turned into a scream filled the room. The woman clutched her robe around her and shouted, “Get out!”
Katherine put up her hands, palms out. “I’m sorry. We came to speak to Mr. Folsom. The door was open and we heard someone moaning and ran up here to help.”
The woman wiped the sleeve of her robe across her eyes. “Get out!”
“You look hurt, Miss. We can help.”
“Get out or I’ll call the police.” She started crying.
Paul walked forward, taking a business card out of his shirt pocket and placing it on the vanity. “If you need help, call me.” Then he turned and walked from the room.
Katherine backed out after Paul, turned in the hallway and followed him downstairs. They made their way back to the car and drove away, heading back to Katherine’s place.
“Did you see the bruises on her face, on her body?” Katherine asked once the house was out of sight.
“Yeah. She looked awful.”
“Folsom?” she asked.
“I guess?” Paul answered.
“The sonofabitch!”
“Still think you can reason with the man?”
CHAPTER TEN
Gerald Folsom sucked on a cut knuckle on his right hand. Probably shouldn’t have hit her so hard, he thought. He’d gotten carried away. The more she cried and pleaded, the more he was
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