A Spooky Legacy, page 29
“Arianna’s estate.” I felt cold down to my very bones. Because if I remembered what Danny told me about this place, the grounds were massive. “Is she involved?”
“I don’t know how high up the food chain goes.”
Well, wasn’t that just peachy. “So what, you just woke up one day and decided to join a murder ring? What is wrong with you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said wearily. “I wanted to know where I came from, and I started doing some research. Looking for biological family. Most of my father’s family is either locked up or deep in a gang—”
“You didn’t really luck out on your mother’s side, either,” I said dryly. “You should’ve chosen the gang.”
“Shut your mouth,” he said without heat. “I wanted to get to know my mother, and Evie helped me with that. Then I asked her what happened the day she died. She refused at first, but I kept asking.”
“And did she tell you?”
“Eventually. He burned her. Killed her. Would’ve killed me, too,” he said, his eyes blazing. “My mother asked for help several times from the authorities, and no one helped her with shit.”
“I’m sorry,” I said stiffly. “But there’s no excuse for—”
“Evie still didn’t tell me about the program. It was another two years before I found out, and only by accident.”
“How?”
“I stopped by her house on the weekend to surprise her with a desk I found at the flea market. She’s always looking for shit like that for the Hope House. When I went around the house to put it in the garage, I smelled decomp. You know that smell.”
I nodded. Every cop knew that smell. It was unmistakable.
He leaned his head against the tree trunk and looked up at the sky. “I almost turned her in,” he said, somewhat conversationally.
“Are you sorry you didn’t?”
It was a moment before he answered me. Mostly because he was coughing up his own blood. His breathing was a lot more labored than it had been before. But his answer was strong and sure. “Not at all.” At my expression, he smiled/grimaced. “Maybe one day you’ll understand.”
My answer was just as sure. “I hope I never do.”
Suddenly a bright light came on, piercing enough to make my eyes water. A small green beam appeared in the trees about the size of a penlight, and I squinted into the glare. I looked down at Zach. I could finally see the full extent of his injuries and I sucked in a breath. Getting him to his feet was going to be a challenge, to say the least.
And was that…a ring of skulls? Some of them had holes in them. I looked at the circle that surrounded us, our macabre skeletal audience.
“Well,” I murmured. “At least I finally know what she does with the heads.”
Zach’s face was white as could be, probably from blood loss. He gave a bitter laugh. “I guess everything is ready for the game.”
I didn’t need to ask what game. I knew. Oh, fuck did I know. The memory of Vincent running through the woods and screaming at Sharla had never been so vivid and fresh in my mind. I touched the collar at my neck. “Is this—”
“A tracker,” he said with a bitter laugh. “Do you finally understand what’s going to happen here tonight?”
A speaker crackled and I jerked, looking wildly into the trees. I couldn’t see a damn thing in the spotlight. I whirled, but there was nothing but darkness beyond our circle. She could be two steps away, and I wouldn’t even know.
“Let’s play a game!” Canned carnival music followed the child’s eager voice. And then he asked eagerly, “Is everybody ready?”
Hell to the no, I wasn’t fucking ready.
“We’ve got to go,” I said urgently. “And we’ve got to go now.”
Zach laughed. “I’m not going anywhere, Christiansen. And you’re not going anywhere, either. I’m not going to spend the last moments of my life trying to avoid the inevitable.”
“Let’s play a game,” the child said again. “Is everybody ready?”
Fuck your game, lady.
I knelt down hurriedly and finished pulling Zach free of the ropes. When he just sat there, leaning heavily against the tree, I was once again tempted to introduce my boot to his forehead. I yanked on his arm instead. “Do you want to fucking die?”
“Hell of a time to ask that question,” he said.
“You are showing me the way out of here,” I snapped. “And you can either come with me voluntarily or you can be dragged.”
He snatched his arm from my grasp. “Don’t you get it?” He shouted in my face as I reared back instinctively. “Everyone who plays this game loses. That’s the fucking poin—”
His head exploded, spraying blood all over my face.
I just stood there for a few seconds, stunned, looking at the gore painting my hands. I’d seen a lot of people die a lot of different ways. That was just part of the business. But I’d never seen someone’s head explode a few scant feet away from my face. I’d never been so covered in their blood that I could almost taste it. I knew I wouldn’t forget this moment as long as I lived.
To be fair, that probably wouldn’t be long.
“Let’s play a game,” the child’s automated voice said excitedly.
I stumbled backward, looking around the clearing. And then there was the whisper—that voice I’d heard in my dreams—that signaled the start of her horrid little game. “Run for your life.”
That was probably good advice.
29
Itore through the trees, running at top speed. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I made my way through the dense woods. The canopy above was so thick that I could barely see anything other than shadowy shapes, and I prayed I wouldn’t run headlong into a tree.
Occasionally, a patch of moonlight would break through, and I could see for several glorious minutes before it was dark again. Branches clawed at me as I stumbled over tree roots. I cried out as one snagged on my shirt and ripped the fabric, leaving a long scratch on the skin beneath.
The noises didn’t help. Every now and again, there was sinister laughter. Then wind, whistling through the trees much faster than it really was. And the sound of a low growl, somewhere to my left. I poured on speed in the other direction, wondering how much of the atmosphere was real, and how much was simulated. Everything was designed to be a mindfuck, to remind me that I was in Evie’s playpen where she made all the rules.
Was she watching me on a security camera? Hell, she didn’t even need that. She just needed to use the handy little tracker in my collar. I tried to work my fingers under there again, but there was hardly enough room to fit my pointer finger, much less actually move it around. I crooked my finger and tugged, but all I did was chafe my neck. I wasn’t going to break it with my bare hands, and I couldn’t seem to find a release mechanism. So…yeah, everything was going smoothly.
As long as I had the collar on, I was probably a moving dot on a map somewhere. Distracted by that realization, I stumbled over a branch and fell, face first, into some water. Darkness enveloped me. Stunned, I sank into the black, freezing water. And then my brain kicked in and I swam hard for the top.
I burst free of the surface, gasping for air. Breathing felt like ambrosia. The sound of a bullet whizzing by my ear wasn’t quite as welcome.
Okay, so back under I go.
I took a few quick breaths, then one long one before I sank down below. At least a dip in the river would get rid of Zach’s blood and…other bits…all over me. Christ. I had to remind myself that there would be time to wrestle with that later.
If I had a later, that is.
I moved through the water smoothly, only coming up for air when I absolutely had to. Something sharp singed my arm and I gasped, surging for the surface once more. I raised my arm slightly above the water, staring at the torn fabric of my sleeve and the red wound on my arm. It was only a graze, but it hurt like hell.
“There’s more where that came from, Detective,” a disembodied voice informed me smoothly.
I looked around for the speaker, but I had no idea where it could be. It could be designed as a rock or hidden as a plant. Or maybe just mounted in one of the trees. This was Evie’s playground, and she wasn’t about to let me forget it. She was playing with me. And I wasn’t supposed to win.
I spotted an outcropping of rocks and sank below the water again. I swam for it, expecting a bullet to the back with every stroke. I was almost surprised when I felt the rough rock against my palm. I came up behind it, breathing shallowly. I wasn’t sure if I was directly in her sight or hidden completely. I just hoped my head wasn’t about to explode.
A hand grabbed my arm and I gasped. “It’s just me,” a familiar voice said.
“Franklin?” I knuckled water out of my eyes and coughed as a small wave of water caught me in the face. “What’re you doing here?”
“I live here.” As I continued to stare at him blankly, he made an impatient noise. “Barclay and I used to gallop through these woods long ago. It’s one of my favorite places to be. Or at least it was.”
“Why didn’t you…why didn’t you tell me about this place?” I sputtered.
He scratched his head. “Well, I kind of did.”
“No, you gave me body parts and a mystery. That is not telling me about it.”
“I beg to differ. Besides, I was a bit conflicted.” He scratched his head. “On one hand, murder is just terrible. But on the other hand, they were really bad men, you know?”
I stared. “Maybe when I get out of here, I’ll create a seminar called, Killing Is Wrong. I invite you to attend.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“You actually did not, in fact.”
“Sorry,” he burst out. “But I was talking to Quinn, and she told me about this woman named Bonnie Light—”
“Seriously?” I croaked.
“Well, anyway,” he said, flapping his hands. “There’s no time for that. She can’t see you right now, but she has a drone that she sends out for her craftier prey.”
Jesus Christ. If she sent that thing out, I was pretty much done for.
“You just have to hang on a little while longer,” he said urgently. “And I’m going to help you.”
“How?”
“I’ve been disabling cameras,” he said proudly. “Otherwise, she would’ve had you long before now.”
I beat back another wave, coughing. I thought back to the aerial view of Arianna’s estate and remembered it was surrounded by a large iron fence. “I need to get to the fence.”
“That collar will shock you.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Add getting the collar off to the list.”
But one thing at a damn time. Right now, my main concern was keeping my head attached to my shoulders.
I wriggled a finger under the blasted thing again. It didn’t feel indestructible, but I was going to need more than the strength of my index finger. “I need tools,” I murmured.
Franklin brightened as he snapped his fingers. “I have just the thing. Follow me.”
And then he fucking disappeared.
“Franklin,” I hissed.
Bloody ghosts. If I could fucking do that, I’d just poof myself back home.
After a moment, he reappeared, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry.” He held out his hand, wispy and pale in the moonlight. When I hesitated, he gave me a chiding look. “I’m about the only friend you’ve got right about now.”
I took his hand even as I murmured, “You’re not exactly lifting my spirits.”
He dragged me under in lieu of response, and I wished I’d taken one more breath. One-armed, I swam along so as not to lose my grip on my ghostly guide. Every now and again, I’d tug him to the surface. He’d wait impatiently because I had the temerity to need air, before pulling me under again. And then we were across.
I crouched in the shallows, my gaze on the bank. I’d be fully exposed if I made a break for it. But I couldn’t stay here forever. “How’re we looking?” I whispered.
“Go,” he said urgently.
I charged through the shallows until I hit the shore. I stumbled up on the bank, reeds and muck grabbing at my boots. Franklin floated ahead, nose lifted like he was scenting the air. Then he shouted, “Down!”
I didn’t hesitate, flattening myself to the ground.
A bullet whizzed over my head so close that I heard the whine. Smelled the smoke. I kept my eyes on Franklin, hoping I looked just like one more log on the bank. When he nodded, I scrambled to my feet and darted for the trees. I ran on stiff and rapidly tiring legs, trying to keep him in sight.
“The shed,” he said excitedly. “There’s the shed.”
The building in the distance was small, about the size of a one-car garage, and made of sheet metal. I never thought I’d be so glad to see a rustic shed that looked like a tetanus shot. I hurried up to the building and tugged at the door. The door didn’t budge. I spotted the keypad entry just as I was about to give the door handle another yank.
Fuck.
“0842,” Franklin said urgently. “Hurry.”
I keyed in the code and gave a silent prayer of relief when the keypad turned green. I hustled in the building and slammed the door behind me. I stood there in the darkness for a few moments, my chest moving with my heaving breaths. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I was safe, but I really, really liked the idea of being behind walls and a closed door.
“There’s a hanging bulb over here,” Franklin said from somewhere to my left.
I almost said I didn’t think that was a good idea, and then I remembered the fucking collar. Right. She knew exactly where I was.
I reached up in the air, feeling around until my hand knocked into something solid. I grasped the bulb and felt my way up the fixture until I found the switch. When I turned it, the room lit up with low, lazy light. I turned and took a good look at my surroundings.
My mouth fell open.
The room was mostly wood, with shelves against the wall and a long table in the center. Sharp-edged tools hung from the ceiling—half of which seemed to be saws of some kind. My shocked gaze flitted between one with a circular wicked-looking blade and one that looked like a fucking cutlass. There were dark stains on the walls and floor, and it took me a minute to realize it was dried blood.
I stared at a few coagulated bits before I turned that shocked gaze on Franklin. “You brought me to her kill room?”
“No,” he said defensively. “This is where she cuts up her victims. But everyone who comes through those doors is dead. Or mostly dead.”
As I continued to gape, he huffed impatiently. “Fernando survived the hunt even though he’d taken a bullet to the head. Remarkable, really.”
I closed my eyes briefly, just to reflect on the iffy business of asking a ghost for help. On the positive side, I had tools now, and one of them was going to get this fucking collar off my neck. Then all I had to do was take another jaunt through Evie’s Forest of Horrors and head for the fence line.
I perused my options before I settled on a long bone saw with a thin blade. Without revisiting my fears that the collar had a failsafe that I wouldn’t like, I slipped the tool between my neck and the collar, the steel of the blade cold against my skin. And I went to work.
Franklin watched quietly, his arms wrapped around his middle as if he was cold. “He’s going crazy looking for you.”
That went without saying. “I know.”
“I tried showing him where you are, but that didn’t go so well.” He bit his lip. “He’s not very…approachable.”
I scowled. “What did you do? Did you fucking—"
“I didn’t touch a hair on your precious Danny’s head,” he said with a huff. “I’ve just heard you two talking before, and it doesn’t seem like he’s very amenable to the ghost situation.”
“Yes, but he’s extremely amenable to keeping me alive,” I said dryly. “So what did you do?”
“I blew a flyer about the Pemburton Foundation off his desk,” he said proudly. His smile dimmed just a bit. “He just picked it up and put it back. The second time I blew it off, he paused and got really still. Then he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash.”
I continued to hack away at my collar. I pulled it away from my neck slightly only to see it was actually fucking working. And as long as there wasn’t a bomb in the clasp, I was getting this thing off.
There you go, I thought, giving myself a mental pat on the back. Thinking positively, as usual.
“So what did you do then?” I asked, realizing Franklin had left his story very much unfinished.
“Well…nothing. It looked like he was waiting for something. So I waited, too. We stared at that paper for a bit.” He frowned. “And let me tell you, it was very boring.”
I resisted smacking myself in the head. “He can’t see you like I can,” I said slowly. “He was waiting for you to do something else. So he could see if it was just a coincidence or supernatural.”
“Oh.” He looked a bit nonplussed. “Well, I just gave up and decided to try and help you myself.”
Yet another update for the “Dear God, what did I do to deserve this” files. No help was coming.
Franklin disappeared, but I didn’t have the spoons to wonder where he’d gone. Instead, I kept working on the collar and trying not to panic. The collar finally broke apart under the persistent saw of the blade, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn’t explode like human confetti. I doubted Evie had ever let anyone get far enough to worry about collar removal. I threw it on the ground.
I jumped as Franklin reappeared, wringing his hands. “The drone is ready.”
Well. At least I had the tracker off. So while an incoming drone wasn’t exactly the best news I’d ever gotten, I didn’t panic. I pocketed a few small weapons I might be able to use in a pinch, just in case. A switchblade and a couple screwdrivers made the list. If the drone found me, they’d be about as good as a paperweight. But at this point, I was just about out of ideas.
“Do you know the way to the fence?” I asked urgently.
Franklin nodded. “Let’s go.”
