Don't Read After Dark: Keep the lights on while reading these! (A McCray Horror Collection) by Carolyn McCray Page A

next?”
    “Fucking nothing,” Back said.
    “No, no!” Andrew shouted. “Remember, Esau had his hook from Farm Day and snagged S&M guy’s pant cuff and…”
    Oh, Evie could imagine what came next.
    “Oh yeah,” Door said. “Esau always did like his meat medium well.”
    “No,” Evie said. “I meant, what happened to Igor . If he was tied up, how did he get away?”
    Everyone looked at her sideways. Even Papa. Like she was the stupidest person on earth.
    “Oh dearie,” Papa said. “Even I know that.” Papa indicated to thin pipes coming out of the wall. “If things ever get out of control, or when introducing fresh meat, he gases us.”
    “‘He’ gases?” Evie asked. “You mean, Igor?”
    Back snorted. “Does Igor look like he can fucking rig a dead man’s switch or track down and capture the Back Door rapist?”
    Door stood up abruptly. “Why do you always have to do that? We’re having a perfectly good reminiscence and then you’ve got to go and take credit for my work.”
    Back wasn’t intimidated at all, though. “ Bullshit . Look who he took down first. Me. The original.”
    Door shook his head. “No way. You were just the easier mark.”
    Papa interrupted the two rapists’ argument. “We don’t know who pulls the strings behind the curtain, but he certainly is thorough.”
    Door and Back went back to bickering as Darion leaned into Evie.
    “Like I said. Escape is impossible.”
    Andrew took a nice big bite of cupcake. “You know, you can say anything you want about the ole ‘Zard, but dang, can he cook!”
    * * *
    Jake parked in front of a nice, suburban, upscale house. Mr. Woldham’s nice upscale house. He got out of the car and walked up the driveway. There was a BMW in front of the house. He checked the hood. It was cold. That car hadn’t been driven in a while.
    He made his way past some nice rosebushes to the front door. He used the large brass elephant knocker.
    “Mr. Woldham?”
    He knocked again. The same lack of response. Jake looked over his shoulder to make sure that the neighborhood watch wasn’t out, then pulled his lockpicking equipment from his pocket.
    “Hello?” Jake announced again. “Breaking and entering now.” As the metal pick slid into the lock, Jake continued. “Speak up now or forever forfeit your right to press charges against me…”
    The lock clicked and Jake turned the knob. It went smoothly, only he couldn’t open the door.
    “Crap, that could be a body,” Jake said, looking down at his phone. “Backup is only a call away…”
    But he was so far off the reservation that his backup would more than likely arrest him, rather than help him out. Therefore, Jake put his shoulder into it and finally hefted the thing open a few inches. He peered inside. No body, but a huge pile of mail that was blocking the door. He heaved in a few more inches, then started checking the mail. The usual. Mostly junk mail. A few overdue bills.
    Not finding anything of interest, Jake stepped over the large pile and walked deeper into the house. “Officer of the peace…” No one seemed to be home, but he had to be sure. “Here to serve and protect.”
    He made his way through the swanky living room, past the dining room, set for an elegant dinner party, and into the kitchen. Jake pulled out his phone and called the number one speed dial.
    “Brad here.”
    “Yeah, dude,” Jake said. “It doesn’t look like Mr. Woldham has been here in a while. Jake opened the fridge, took out a carton of milk, and sniffed it. Wrong thing to do. Gagging and retching, Jake poured the clotted, spoiled milk down the sink.
    “Weeks, maybe months,” Jake said, as soon as he quit gagging.
    “I’m not surprised,” Brad said. “There’s been no activity on his credit cards in over five months.”
    Was that a sound from the other room? Jake pulled his gun. “Brad, hang on.”
    Jake made his way from the kitchen to a den-like room with a large sliding glass door out to the pool. A