Death Mask Read Free Page B

in a week—was more than Andria’s nerves could handle. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the room spinning and the mask mumbling something about the first death being a gift and being stolen from him by those not in the know.
    The next moment she fainted and collapsed onto the floor.

Chapter 7
    “Pull!” Finnegan yelled a split second before shouldering his Browning twelve-gauge shotgun.
    With a smooth, steady swing he followed the bead sight at the end of the gun barrel. When it reached the correct lead distance in front of the first target he squeezed off a quick round. Undeterred by the recoil he continued his efficient swing and quickly overtook the second target then abruptly discharged the firearm again. Both clay pigeons were turned to powder sending their tiny orange fragments in all directions.
    “That was a double,” he said, proudly surveying the scene while each of his envied skeet partners crowded the safety line behind him rolling their eyes.
    When Finnegan had breached open his shotgun to eject the empty shells, he noticed the shooting range’s safety marshal rapidly approaching and waving him off.
    What’s the problem? He thought.
    “There’s an important call for you Mr. Winters,” the marshal shouted.
    “Aw, nuts. I was just getting warmed up too,” Finnegan said, propping the shotgun on his shoulder. “Looks like you boys were just saved by the bell,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.
    Finnegan strolled up the hill to the range’s front office and picked up the telephone.
    “Hello?” he said.
    “Yes, Detective Winters. This is Lieutenant Anderson. Sorry to interrupt while you’re shooting, but I’ve got a live one down here at the precinct. Never seen her in here before, but she’s desperate to talk. Says she’ll only speak with you.”
    “Did she say what it’s about?”
    “No. Only that she wants you.”
    “Really? What’s her name?”
    “Mum again.”
    “Okay. Keep her occupied. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
     
    ***
     
    When Finnegan reached the police station, he quickly located his mystery woman and went into the interrogation room where she waited.
    “Hello Miss, I’m Detective Winters. I’m told you requested a meeting with me.”
    The woman didn’t respond; only lifted her eyes and stared back in muted silence.
    Finnegan waved a hand in front of her face to make sure she was mentally there. His actions garnered a blink spurring him to try his greeting again.
    “Hello Miss, I’m Detective Finnegan Winters. You can call me “Finn” for short. How may I help you?”
    “Sorry,” the woman finally said. “I must have been daydreaming. My name is Andria…Andria Walker. I have important information connected with the Death Mask incident from last week at the Museum of Curiosities.”
    Finn raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?” he asked, skeptically.
    “I have a riddle from the mask. I also think I’ve discovered why the mask is…alive.”
    Finn was instantly perturbed but tried not to show it. He’d rushed all the way down here for this nonsense. Really? Thinking her to be an opportunistic prankster looking for entertainment, he was about to school her in the severity of consequences related to interfering with a police investigation when something clicked in his memory.
    “Wait a minute,” he said. “I recognize you now. You’re the museum curator that discovered the talking mask, right?”
    “Yes, sir. That’s right.”
    “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you talking to me instead of the Lieutenant?”
    “Because I pay attention, Mr. Winters. After the first day of investigation, I started keeping tabs on the guys at the scene that night and asking questions to find out who I could trust.”
    “And?”
    “And, like it or not, you’re it,” she said, pointing her finger at him.
    Finn was confused but shook it off. Andria was here with information and he needed to let her spill it. He nodded his head in