“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Aidan said.
“What—”
“Trust me. That’s what Krewe members do, right?”
*
Digging at the hole with her bare hands wasn’t easy but Mo was persistent. Of course, it would’ve been somewhat easier if she hadn’t been trying to avoid any noise. She knew that the crypt extended farther in a direction she couldn’t see from where she crouched. That was where the light came from—someone had left a lantern there. It illuminated the place where J.J. lay on the floor.
She didn’t see Debbie Howell or Jimmy Voorhaven. And, she didn’t see blood on the axe or the knife or the tomb.
She kept clawing away at the hole in the earth, making it larger and larger.
There was movement below her. She could see that someone or something was creating shadows in the vault—a vault like any other. Shelves of coffins on both sides, old, decaying and chipped.
She and Rollo had gone by every vault on the lower level! Rollo would have known J.J.’s scent; he would have barked furiously to tell them J.J. was there.
And then she understood. The killer had come here after that. Maybe, since he’d been bold enough to walk through the Haunted Mausoleum with a body and a severed head, he’d been bold enough to come here when he knew they were searching the graveyard.
She continued to claw at the earth. Eventually, she’d get through.
Then what? Attack with a killer flashlight?
She leaned forward to see more of the vault. She saw a leg extended toward her, an adult leg.
Debbie or Jimmy?
She couldn’t tell.
Suddenly, her excavating worked—far better than she’d intended. A massive block of earth wrenched free and, to her horror, she slipped through the opening and fell several feet, landing on the hard ground again. She gasped for breath, then raised her head.
There was Debbie, lying on the floor, Jimmy a few yards away.
She’d found the missing.
Were they still alive?
Or was she too late? And too close, with no weapon, alone and about to join them? Because the killer was either there...or about to come back.
*
Aidan ran down the hills to the lower level, then tripped and slid down the last one, landing on his ass. He scrambled to his feet and cut around the little group of trees that led to the main road. It was past midnight, so there was almost no traffic. He ran across the road and headed straight to the restaurant.
Halloween greeted him. Spiders and skeletons and silly grinning cats.
Yes, the place had been set up well.
He slammed his fists against the glass door. There’d been light in the restaurant, and he was sure that, as he approached, he’d seen movement.
But of course, a killer wasn’t going to politely open the door to a cop banging on it like a madman.
“Aidan, do you hear someone screaming for help in there?” he asked himself out loud. “Why, yes, Aidan, I think I do!”
He ripped off his coat and wrapped it around his arm, then made use of his Glock, too, slamming the glass so hard it broke on his first try. Knocking the splintered glass aside, he found the two door bolts, turned them and burst into the restaurant.
It was dark, except for that glimmer of light, the one he’d noticed earlier. Macabre images in plastic and paper hung everywhere. Skeletons seemed to dance on the bar. He moved through the bar and seating area, and hurried to the kitchen in back, hoping he hadn’t taken so long that Tommy Jensen had managed to escape.
He ran into the kitchen, the source of the light. Where the outer area had been dark and filled with creepy-crawlies to celebrate the season, the kitchen was bright and seemed even brighter because the light was reflected by all the steel and chrome. He didn’t see anyone. Swearing, he tore around two workstations.
The back door stood open.
But then, something made him turn. It was as if he’d felt a hand on his shoulder.
He saw the walk-in refrigerator.
Striding toward it, he grabbed the massive handle and yanked it open.
And there was Tommy Jensen, facing him with a frying pan. In a furious burst of rage, Tommy charged him.
He rammed into Aidan; Aidan threw him off and before Tommy could charge again, Aidan lifted his Glock in both hands and aimed it at him. “Where are they?” he raged.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Tommy shouted back. “I’m just working in my restaurant that you’re destroying!”
Aidan moved slowly and steadily toward him.
“I intend to put this gun down your throat and hold it there—after I shoot both of your kneecaps and your groin.”