Page 45

FORTY-FOUR

BLACK ROCK FALLS

Eerily quiet on Main, the mist swirled knee-deep as Beth Katz walked alongside Styles. Walking a little ahead of them, Bear seem to fade in and out and sometimes disappeared altogether between the streetlights. The wind blew directly down from the snowcapped mountains, bringing with it a hint of pine and lush underbrush. The sky above and everywhere in between was pitch black. No moon guided them along the sidewalk, but moving in the shadows was something she was used to and she enjoyed the anonymity. If a serial killer was out there hiding in one of the alleyways, they would be as difficult to see as him. When Styles pulled her arm through the crook of his elbow, she looked up at him in astonishment but didn’t pull away. A year or two ago she wouldn’t have even been walking along a street with him, but since working together they had accepted each other’s eccentricities.

“I’ve figured if one of the escape prisoners was watching us, it would look more normal for a couple walking their dog to be close.” Styles patted her hand. “Do you think they’ve had the opportunity to watch the news?”

Scanning the sidewalk ahead, Beth shook her head. “Not recently. I figured they would have stuck to the forest. Especially after Romero lost control and committed murder.” She glanced at him. “We haven’t received any reports of any more people going missing in any of the local cabins in the forest and by now neighbors would be watching out for each other.”

When Styles’ phone buzzed, Beth stared at the caller ID. It was Jenna. “Give me one of your earbuds.”

“What is your location?” Jenna’s chair wheels squeaked as she moved it across the floor. “We’ve had a sighting of a man fitting Romero’s description heading toward Cemetery Lane. The old cemetery goes back over one hundred and fifty years. Families have been buried there since the Gold Rush. It’s still used by old families, even though the church fell into disrepair fifty years ago. If he is heading in that direction, you’ll need to be very careful. The graves haven’t been tended for a long time. Many gravestones have toppled over and there’s underbrush and tree roots everywhere.”

“Can you give us directions? We are at the end of the park.” Styles turned to look at Beth. “Do we need to return to the office and get the truck?”

“No. Turn right at the intersection of Maple and Main. Cemetery Lane is about twenty yards from the intersection on the left. Both sides of Cemetery Lane are wooded, so watch your backs. We’ve had a few calls tonight. Right now Rowley and one of the Blackwater deputies are handling them. Nothing from Carter and Rio yet. Maggie has offered to stay behind tonight to man the hotline with me. When Raven comes back, we can take over and send her home. Do you need backup?”

“Nah, we’re on it.” Styles disconnected and took the earbud back from Beth and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

Biting her tongue about wishing Jenna would remain in the office, Beth looked at Styles and shrugged. “Do you honestly believe that a serial killer would be hanging around a cemetery at this time of night? He has no idea anyone is hunting him down right now and it’s not a good place to find a victim.”

“None of them know the town as far as I’m aware.” Styles unzipped his jacket so he could easily access his weapon. “Maybe he got turned around. I guess we better go and find out. It’s dark but we can’t use our flashlights. He’ll see us coming. I’m planning on sneaking up on him.”

If Romero was in the cemetery, she needed to be alone to deal with him. She’d viewed his prison photographs and the size of him was a threat, but none of that mattered once she’d seen what he’d done to Amy Clark, Elaine Harper, and Maya Brooks. He’d never pay for those horrendous crimes even if they returned him to prison. The death sentence would never eventuate. Maybe they’d tack another few life sentences to his jail time and it would mean nothing to him. Already sentenced to death, he had nothing to lose and could kill indiscriminately for his entire life… unless she stopped him. “That’s fine by me, but we’ll need to split up and use a pincer movement. If either of us flushes him out the other will catch him.”

Beth didn’t look at his face. He’d have that flash of concern he quickly smothered anytime they went into a situation. She figured by now he’d know she didn’t need his protection. She kept her eyes straight ahead, almost feeling his protest.

“This is potentially Carl Romero we’re hunting down. He kills first and asks questions later.” Styles glanced at her. “I’ve read about this place. The cemetery has no lights and it’s overgrown and there are a number of open graves. You sure you want to split up?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. I trust you to know the difference between Romero and me. I’ll be fine. It’s you who needs to be careful. Don’t creep up on me.”

“I’m not suicidal just yet.” Styles wiggled his eyebrows at her. “And I have Bear.”

Darkness didn’t worry Beth. The only thing that had unnerved her had been suffering abuse from her father and during her time in foster care. She figured that once a person had lived through something like that there wasn’t much left on the earth to frighten her. She mimicked Styles by unbuttoning her jacket as they headed along Cemetery Lane. “I’ll take the right.” She crossed the narrow blacktop and walked along the thin sidewalk. Underfoot, the uneven paving was difficult to negotiate. She tripped numerous times, falling into hanging branches. Spider’s webs caught in her hair and she batted them away, and yet Styles hadn’t made a sound. She glanced in his direction, only to see a shadow moving along, with a smaller shadow beside it. Bear had slipped into K9 mode, and if Romero was in the cemetery, Bear would find him.

The lane opened up to a fence and rusty cemetery gates that hung open. One gate had come away from the post and fallen sideways. She edged her way around the gate and peered into the darkness. Gravestones stood in rows, the ones at the front appearing now and then through the mist as if floating above the ground. Others once white had brown stains and moss covering them. As she walked, she made out the names of the beloved, but most were illegible and some stones had fallen over. A noise close by made her freeze mid-step. In a flutter of wings an owl dropped onto a gravestone with a mouse hanging from its beak not a foot in front of her. Its head turned slowly, its big eyes staring at her and then dismissing her before swallowing the mouse whole. Trying not to gag as the mouse’s tail disappeared down the bird’s throat, she slid one foot forward feeling gravel beneath her boots and continued on, following the pathway around the perimeter of the cemetery. Behind her in a flap of wings, the owl rose into the sky. She turned to look when something large loomed out of the darkness. Beth stopped and drew her weapon. She would have sworn something moved directly in front of her, or was the swirling mist distorting reality? No footfalls crunched on the gravel ahead of her. Gripping the handle of her Glock, she moved forward, feeling ahead with each step and ducking the long clawing branches of the overhanging trees. The next second, Bear barked a warning. Picking up her pace when the footpath opened up and she could see a few yards ahead of her, she made out a figure running across the cemetery. Before they reached the path on the other side, they vanished from sight.

Astonished, Beth blinked. Had she actually seen someone or was it a trick of the light and mist? She’d never believed in ghosts, but had she actually seen one? Goosebumps rose on her flesh. She swallowed hard at the sound of a low moan and glanced across the cemetery but couldn’t see Styles anywhere. Suddenly feeling very alone, like the night she’d witnessed a mother being murdered and fled to the forest, the cemetery with all its spookiness seemed to close in around her. Somewhere here, a serial killer lurked. Pushing back the wave of unease she’d rarely experienced before, she moved closer to the moaning. Ahead, she spotted an open grave and, with her Glock held out in front of her, edged closer to peer inside.

Heart thundering in her chest, she reached for her penlight and shot a small beam of light into the blackness. The light hit the face of Romero. He blinked up at her. His head was on an unusual angle. He’d likely broken his neck in the fall. Beth considered how many women this man had murdered and whether he deserved a lifetime of being cared for in a prison hospital. What he had done to women repulsed her. She moved her penlight around and through the mist found a border of rocks lining the pathway. First, she pulled a sealed tarot card from a zipped pocket in her jacket and removed the covering, which was difficult in her thin leather gloves, and tossed it down into the grave. She extinguished the penlight, bent and rolled the heavy rock to the edge of the grave, and pushed it over. The sound was like a melon being dropped from a height. She kicked gravel over the slight indents in the pathway and straightened. The sentence of death had been completed. Romero would never hurt another woman or child again. Justice had been served.

Hurrying on, Beth moved past mausoleums built long ago. The mist swirling around the dark entrances would scare anyone and played tricks with her mind. The next moment, Bear came bounding toward her. The dog leaned against her legs and then barked once. “Hello, Bear. Where’s Styles? Is he okay?”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pressed it to her ear. “Styles?”

“Yeah. I sent Bear to find you. There’s no one here. I’m over tripping over tree roots. Let’s get out of this place. We’ll come back in daylight and search for tracks, but I figure the call was a hoax.” Styles loomed out of the darkness, phone in hand. “There you are. I did a complete circle and found nothing. Bear barked at a cat, is all.” He pushed his phone back into his pocket. “This place is creepy, isn’t it?”

Beth holstered her weapon and pushed her phone back into her jean’s pocket. “You could say it’s not my ideal place for a date.” She grinned up at him.

“Mine either.” He held out his arm for her. “We’ll call it in and wait for the next sighting. Aunt Betty’s is still open. After all this spooky excitement, I need a strong cup of coffee and a slice of cherry pie.”

Laughing, Beth slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “I didn’t figure any of the prisoners would be stupid enough to come here. I needed to fight my way through cobwebs and low branches. The fog played tricks with my mind and had me drawing down on shadows. I’m glad I don’t believe in ghosts, although I admit tonight had me guessing.”

“Oh, I saw ghostly figures and heard moans but that was likely the wind in the trees. The shadows moving when there’s no reason for them to move questions my common sense. I guess it makes me a new believer, but I’m not the only person who sees them.” Styles stopped to grin at her. “They say they’re here in daytime too. Sightings go back decades but they don’t concern me.” He chuckled. “Like Kane says, it’s not the dead people you need to worry about.”