From The Grave

Chapter 20

Callin arrived at the house and told them that the local ambulance was on the way. He stood back from the scene where Gretta had Luane wrapped in blankets from the house to guard against shock. Her leg was a shredded mess and the side of her face had a chunk torn out the size of a chestnut. Blood poured from all the bites, soaking the blankets. Arny wrestled the collar off the dog and tossed another blanket over it's body.

A horn sounded and the ambulance skidded to a stop in the drive. Two men jumped out with a portable stretcher and soon had Luane back on board and were racing off to the hospital in Alofi. Gretta asked Callin to notify Constable Phati and then asked him to take them to the home of Arlinu Tomambou.

"What do you make of that," Arny asked, fingering the dog collar with the name and address of the owner etched on the tag.

"I honestly don't know, Arny. I mean, if her job was to take us out, why would she be attacked by Tomambou's dog... and at her own house?"

"You think he was there? Maybe we should have searched the whole place."

"Constable Phati can handle that. If we don't find him at home, we'll wait and see what happens."

"And the stamp that started all this?"

"Well, according to Const—"

"Oh right. Your self-important bureaucrat already imparted that bit of info."

"He did. Tomambou had the stamp. He was the lawyer who took over handling the estate from a David Yubal."

"How come? Did Fatty have an answer for that?"

"Because he could. When he learned about the stamp he also learned it was worth a lot of money and that was enough to stick his oar in."

Callin stopped at the end of the drive and announced their arrival.

"Well how about taking us right in?" Arny asked.

"Sorry, nobody drives up there without special invite."

"What, even a taxi?"

"That's okay," Gretta said. "We can walk up. How much for all this, Callin?"

"You're not home yet, Miss Lawrence. I can wait or come back, your call."

She smiled in the dark interior and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll call. Thanks."

They climbed out and watched the cab drive off.

"Déjà vu."

"Let's hope not," Gretta said ominously.

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Arlo stopped and looked down at his feet. Cecil's lifeless eyes seemed to stare right at his and he backed away with a small grunt. He took a breath and bent down, his gun aimed straight at Cecil's head as he felt for a pulse and happened to see the wound in his chest where the dark red blood had soaked into his coat.

"Shit." It wasn't Hunter, he knew that for certain, so who was it? The dame? Why, she was after Lawrence. Lawrence maybe. Shit If it was her she may have the stamp already. He stood up and looked around. The weak light that emanated from the nearest window gave him enough guidance to step around Cecil and get his face close to the edge.

Hunter found a back door with the latch off and he hesitated, suspecting a possible trap. He pressed his ear to the door and strained to hear anything that would give him a clue. Nothing. He hefted his gun and, with a flush of confidence, he silently opened the door and stepped inside, freezing again while he listened to the house. Nothing. He moved through the small porch and into the hall. A light shone from the door to the next room and he held his breath once more as he strained to hear.

Arlo peered around the edge of the window and saw the side of Arlinou in the armchair with the shotgun on his lap. Just as he was about to move away he saw the shadow in the doorway and he knew Hunter already had access. He saw the shotgun come up and he banged on the window as Hunter stepped into the room.

The roar of the gun sent him back from the window for a second and when he looked again, Hunter was teetering in the doorway, one arm completely blown off. The gun roared again and he disappeared back into the hall. Arlo gaped as Arlinou turned in the chair, reloading the gun and he managed to drop to the ground as the window blew out in a shower of wood and glass.

He looked about and could see nothing but blackness. The only light came from the hole in the side of the house and it only extended about ten feet from the house. He got up into a crouch and started moving but couldn't figure out which way he came in. A door closed behind him and he knew Arlinou was outside with the great bloody gun.

He did a quick eeny meeny and took off in the direction he was facing, his body crouched low to the ground. When the footing changed to a downward slope he knew he had chosen wrong and he stopped, struggling to make out his surroundings. The sudden sound of the sea came to his ears and he realized he had moved toward the bluff behind the house; not a good choice.

Arlinou heard the crunching steps on the dry grass at the back of the house and he plodded steadily across the lot and started down the slope to the cliffs. He stopped and crouched down, waiting and his patience paid off.

Arlo had begun to move to his right and in rising up to run, he had silhouetted himself against the starry sky over the ocean. Arlinou raised the shotgun and tracked the figure for a few seconds then pulled the trigger. The silhouette vanished, followed by a cry and he stood up and moved more quickly down the slope.

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Gretta and Arny started running at the first sound of gunfire. As they neared the house they saw the window explode outward and in the brief flash of light, a man crouch down and start running around the corner of the house.

"Now what?" Arny breathed heavily. "Is every house having a shoot out?"

"Follow the action, Arny." She took off at a gallop and Arny, ever obedient, loped after her.