Page 62 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)

“Why does he want to meet us here?” he mused. His senses were on the alert: They had been ever since the text from Greg, and right then they were telling him to keep going.

And what’s waiting for me?

Apparently something important that he needed to see.

In the passenger seat, Riley stared at his phone. “Not much farther now.” He paused. “Seriously?”

Gary didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead. “What is it?”

“The names of these roads. They’re weird. Roller Coaster Way. Ferris Wheel Lane. Cotton Candy Lane. Candy Apple Drive. Carousel Terrace.”

Dan was on Google in a heartbeat. “Might have something to do with the fact that there was an amusement park here back in the late eighties.”

Gary turned onto Roller Coaster Way. “I’ve got a newsflash for you. There still is.” He drove a short way before he came to a stop.

Riley gazed at the landscape. “Okay, this is spooky as hell.”

On the right was a patch of waste ground covered in snow, but beyond it was the remnants of a fairground.

A wooden roller coaster dominated the scene, most of it in a state of collapse.

Around it stood the remains of rides and stalls, and on the left was the wreck of a Ferris Wheel.

Colorful signs were hanging or lay on the ground.

Dan had the impression the snow hid the worst parts.

Riley shivered. “It’s like an amusement park graveyard. Why hasn’t anybody torn these down before now?”

In the middle of the lonely, dead fairground was a lake, overgrown and full of algae, with an island in the center of it.

“Why have we stopped?” Except Dan already knew the answer, and he didn’t like it.

Gary pointed to the island. “Because the coordinates are for out there.” He squinted. “What’s that I can see?”

Dan stared at the broken structure. “I think it was once an ice-cream stand or a café. It’s lost its roof, by the look of it.”

Riley snorted. “It’s lost most of its walls too. Glad I brought my thickest coat.” He frowned. “I don’t see Greg, though.”

Gary walked across the snow-covered wasteland, his gaze trained on the ground, scanning.

“Well, someone was here recently. There are tire marks in the snow.” He walked on a little farther, following them.

The tracks went between the dilapidated rides and what remained of the stalls until at last they stopped at the lake.

Broken rowboats lined its banks. It was a desolate scene.

Dan shuddered. He half expected to gaze into the water and see long-dead bodies float to the surface, their skin a mottled green, their eyes white, staring up at the sky.

Gary pointed. “There. Footprints leading from the tire tracks to the lake.”

Riley crouched beside them. “Pretty deep prints too.” He called out, “Greg Collins, are you here?”

Silence.

“Call him,” Dan demanded.

Gary got his phone out and dialed. A moment later, a faint ringing could be heard.

It came from the island.

Riley glanced at them. “Is anyone else getting a bad feeling about this? You know, like we’re gonna get over there and find the bad guy waiting for us?”

Dan shook his head. “I may not have your experience, but somehow I don’t think this guy would be that obvious. It isn’t his style.”

Gary removed his gun from its holster, and Riley did the same. “Dan, go back to the car. We’ll see if there’s a boat that doesn’t appear as if it’s about to sink the moment we step into it.”

Dan pointed. “There’s one. It isn’t in too bad a shape.

It even has oars.” He peered closer. “Oars in remarkably good condition.” He raised his head to meet Riley’s gaze.

“I think your bad feeling is catching. And I also think you’re crazy if you believe I’m going to stay here.

I’m going over there with you.” He gave Gary a look he hoped his partner could read.

Don’t argue with me on this one.

Not that he wanted to climb into a boat and row across the dark green water, but right then his senses were pushing him, propelling him to that island.

Gary studied him for all of three seconds before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but Riley and I will go in first. You got that?”

“Got it.”

They climbed into the boat, and Gary took the oars to scull across, edging the hull through the thick layer of green weeds. Dan tried not to look at the water. Common sense told him there were no bodies waiting to break free of their green slimy bondage.

His imagination told him a different story.

They reached the other side, and Gary clambered onto the bank, waiting until he and Riley were on land before tugging the boat a little higher to prevent it floating away and stranding them.

They trudged through the snow toward the remains of the shack, following the same deep prints they’d seen across the lake.

“ Now I know what this reminds me of,” Riley muttered.

“What?” Gary asked.

“ Strangers on a Train . Bruno kills Guy’s wife, Miriam, at a fair. On an island to be exact.”

That was enough to send shivers down Dan’s spine. “How does he kill her? I hadn’t gotten that far.”

“He strangles her.” Riley reached the shack first, followed by Gary, their guns held high. He gestured to Dan. “Wait here.”

Dan couldn’t suppress a shudder as the two detectives went inside the broken shack. A moment later, a strangled cry rent the air, and Riley came out in a hurry. He bent over and puked, his hands on his thighs, the sound harsh in the still air.

Dan swallowed. “Oh God. This is really bad, isn’t it?”

It was no good. He had to see. Invisible fingers pushed him toward the gaping entrance where doors had once been. Gary stood, his gun by his side, his face contorted as he stared at the far wall. The lack of a roof meant there was a lot of light in there.

Too much light.

Two posts had been driven into the ground, and hanging from them, secured by cuffs, was a naked figure, arms stretched up and out, knees bent.

Around his waist was the skin that had been removed from his body, hanging in folds like a garment. The face has been skinned too, and what remained was like something out of a horror movie.

Dan lowered his gaze and froze. “That’s Greg.”

Riley came back, wiping his mouth on a paper tissue. “How can you tell?” he rasped.

Dan pointed to Greg’s right leg, just above the knee. “Because of the scar. We saw it when we interviewed him.”

Gary swallowed and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Dan couldn’t stay in there a second longer. He turned, ran out, fell to his knees, and lost his lunch.

Riley was there a moment later, his hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” He handed Dan a Kleenex. “I have more if you need ’em.”

Dan didn’t think that was likely. He’d gotten to the dry heaves.

Gary joined them and crouched beside Dan. “You okay?”

“I’ve been better,” he quipped. Gary helped him to his feet, and Dan gazed into his eyes. “Have you seen anything like that before?”

Gary shook his head. “I think that was a first for all of us.” His expression grew grim. “I know you’d rather not go back in there, but there’s something I think you should see.”

Dan knew he wouldn’t ask unless it was necessary. “Okay.” He and Riley followed Gary back inside the shack. Gary pointed to the remains of the wall behind them, where writing in red paint stood out.

At least Dan hoped it was paint. He stared at the five words.

Two down, three to go.

Then it hit him.

“Wait a minute. There’s only Jason Kelly and Jennifer Sullivan left.” Ice crept around his heart. “Who’s the third?”