The Witching Hour Phone Call - 2. Inside Jerry’s House

Jerry put his ear buds in, making sure they connected, “Can you hear me Julius?”

“Yes, but be quiet.”

Jerry made his way to the master bathroom, locking the bedroom and bathroom doors behind him. “I’m in the master bath. I don’t think they’re...”

Jerry heard the window breaking, “They broke a window.”

“Then maybe you want to shut up?”

“Okay, okay. I’m nervous.”

He didn’t stay quiet for long, “Was that a gunshot?”

“Probably. And unless you want the next bullet in your head, I’d suggest you keep quiet.”

“Shit.”

Jerry moaned quietly through the next set of gunshots, but couldn’t help but yelp when he heard the front bedroom’s door crash open.

“Not here.”

“Hit the next.”

Bedroom number three and the hall bath doors both slammed open.

“He’s gotta be in that last one.”

The doorknob rattled, “Locked.”

“Kick it the fuck in.”

The crash of the door was the loudest yet, Jerry screamed.

“Bathroom.”

The bathroom door burst open, pieces of the door jam flying everywhere.

A very large man stepped in, and pointed a gun at Jerry, “Hang up.”

Jerry hit the end call button on his phone.

“Where’s the real one?”

Jerry was confused, although he shouldn’t have been, “Real what?”

“The painting you ignoramus!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The one hanging in the living room is a fake. We know you have a real Renoir.”

Jerry hesitated.

The thief racked a bullet into the chamber, “You want to rethink that?”

“In the safe room.”

“Safe room?”

“People call them panic rooms. I never liked that term.”

The thief put the gun against Jerry’s forehead, “Still think panic is a bad description?”

Jerry lost control of his bladder, “N-n-no.”

“Did you just piss yourself?”

“Ya— yes.”

“Strip and show us to the panic room.”

Jerry removed his sleep pants.

“Now get moving.”

Jerry led them back through the house to the cellar steps.

“It’s down there.”

“Okay, keep going.”

Jerry walked down the steps quickly and immediately headed across the basement to the panic room door.

Another shot rang out, a hole exploding in the wall next to Jerry’s head.

“Don’t get cute, asshole.”

“S-s-sorry.”

“No, you’re not. Open it, then back away.”

Jerry did as requested. He slid open a panel in the wall, pressed 9-1-1, and the door swung open. Thief #1 walked past him into the panic room. Number two waved the gun at him, “You’re next.”

Jerry walked in, the gunman followed and pulled the door closed.

*************************

With no evidence the gunmen were still outside, Trevor accompanied an EMT to the prone body on the front steps. The EMT leaned down, felt for a pulse, then shook his head. There was a hole on the right side of the man’s forehead. The EMT rolled his head and saw the exit wound in back of the man’s head.

Trevor sent him away, “Okay, you get Officer Owens to the hospital. The coroner will take care of this one.” Owens was already in the ambulance.

Trevor motioned to the remaining officers to stay put, since he saw the SWAT van coming up the street, followed by a few more cars with flashing lights. He carefully headed back toward Officer Owens’ patrol car.

One of the SWAT members asked, “Who’s in charge here?”

Trevor spoke up, “I am. Off-duty Sergeant Benton.”

“Lieutenant Carpo. I’m taking command.”

Trevor nodded, “Roger.”

“What’s the situation?”

Trevor explained what he knew. The SWAT leader acknowledged everything, then started giving orders.

“Sergeant Benton, coordinate with the rest of these officers and set up a perimeter one hundred yards from this point. Keep the neighbors at a distance, they’re already creeping closer.”

Trevor mentioned the other officer, “We have one more uniform a couple houses down and across the street. He was monitoring the side door.”

“Call him back.”

Trevor did so, then gave out assignments to where each officer should post themselves when O-3 returned.

The SWAT team headed for the side door and disappeared into the house. Trevor was relieved he didn’t hear any gunfire.

After fifteen minutes went by, the SWAT team was coming back out.

“Sergeant Benton, front and center.”

Trevor jogged to where the lieutenant was standing.

“Yes, sir?”

“Nobody came back out and got past you, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“The house appears empty. One thing I find odd, the back door was locked. If they went out that way and went over the fence, why would they lock the door?”

“The homeowner wasn’t inside?”

“No.”

“I can’t believe they took him over the fence. He’s nearly eighty with a bad back and knees. They would have had to throw him over the fence.”

“Enders, make your way back and check the fence line and perimeter. If they did go that way, there will be some indication they did.”

“Roger, sir.”

A few minutes later, Enders returned, “No evidence they went over the fence. The grass is high back there all the way to the tree line. There would be an obvious path. No obvious departure through either adjacent back yard.”

The lieutenant voiced his disbelief, “They couldn’t have just disappeared. Where the fuck did they go?”

Trevor asked the same question to himself. Jerry had never mentioned the panic room to him. He needed to let Julius know he’d be stuck out there for a while. He called his husband.

“J. I’ll be out here a while. At least two of the burglars and Jerry have disappeared into thin air.”

Julius chuckled, “He never told you?”

“Told me what?”

“He has a panic room hidden off the back of the basement. If you don’t know where to look, it’s nearly impossible to see.”

“Shit.”

Trevor disconnected without another word.

“L-T?”

“Yes?”

“I just found out the owner has a panic room built off the basement. Apparently, it’s hard to notice if you don’t know it’s there.”

“That makes sense then. They expected to hole up there until we all left. I’ll post a few men in the basement, plenty of places to hide. The rest of us will leave, but go just far enough away his outside security cameras won’t pick us up.”

“What about the DB?”

“Yeah. Shit. You’re not in uniform. Would you mind hanging around, out of sight, until the coroner takes him away? We still need to keep the lookie-loos away, but I think the uniforms are far enough out of sight.”

Pointing behind himself, Trevor answers, “That’s no problem, I live right there.”

“My team! Pack up, we’re heading down the block a ways to give the perps the impression we left.” He pointed at a group, “You four, take up positions in the basement. Keep your eyes open, we’re not sure where the door to the panic room is.”

With that, most of SWAT left. The four remaining members went back into the house. Trevor found himself in charge of crowd control and four uniformed officers.

Next Up - “The Stand Off”