Ashes, Ashes, They All Fall Dead (36 page)

Footsteps sounded again, back and forth overhead, back and forth.

What was he doing up there?

Matt cocked his head to listen.

“Matt.”

The urgent sound of her voice had him turning around. She pointed toward the corner. He strode to her side of the room, squeezing in between some boxes to stand beside her.

There, next to the wall on another bright red rug, lay Sheriff Latham. Or what was left of him. His corpse was charred and black. The fire hadn’t been hot enough to completely destroy his body, and the only way Matt knew it was Latham was because Owen or his father—perhaps as a crude joke—had used a thumbtack to secure the sheriff’s driver’s license to his forehead.

Tessa clasped her hand to her throat. “Why would Hargrove, or Owen, kill Latham?”

“My guess, Latham must have been following up on a lead and got too close. Maybe after seeing the profile and the flyer he figured he knew who the perp was. Instead of coming to us, he wanted to solve the case on his own. But Owen or his father got the drop on him.”

A loud thud sounded overhead. The footsteps started up again, followed by another sound.

“What is that?” Tessa asked. “It sounds like . . . splashing?”

The smell of gasoline and kerosene reached both of them at the same time.

Tessa’s eyes widened in horror. “He’s going to burn us alive.”

Chapter Seventeen

T
ESSA COUGHED AGAINST
the strong fumes.

“Take off your shirt. Cover your mouth and nose,” Matt ordered.

Tessa ignored his command and ran to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you.” She untied his shirt from his arm, noting with relief that the bleeding had mostly stopped. She unrolled and rerolled the shirt so the blood was on the inside instead of the outside, then tied it around Matt’s head so his mouth and nose were covered.

He nodded his thanks and ran to one of the walls, pounding on it again to search for hollow spots.

Tessa pulled her shirt off and covered her mouth and nose, tying the sleeves behind her head.

A loud
whoosh
sounded above. Fire flashed around the trapdoor, following where the accelerant had dripped down through the cracks, quickly engulfing the entire door. The little space began to heat up. Flames dripped down between the cracks in the floor as accelerant made its way between the boards.

One of the flaming drips landed on Tessa’s arm. She cried out and brushed her arm on her pants.

“You okay?” Matt yelled from across the room.

No. Her arm felt like it was on fire.

“Just hurry and find a way out of here!”

He turned around. “The rug. The rug under Latham is just like the one upstairs on top of the trapdoor.”

They both ran to the rug. Matt rolled Latham’s body in the carpet and pushed it to the side. Where the rug had been was another trapdoor.

“He’s playing a game with us,” Matt said. “He
wanted
us to discover this trapdoor. He wants us to go into the mine.”

Tessa coughed, her eyes watering from the fumes. “We don’t have a choice.”

“We need a weapon or a light, something to give us an advantage.”

“There’s nothing in the cabinets.”

Matt grabbed the carpet and unrolled it again.

“What are you doing?” Tessa coughed and wiped her eyes, which were tearing from the fumes.

“Seeing if Latham has anything in his pockets that might help us.”

A quick search of his pockets yielded only a handful of charred coins.

The trapdoor creaked above them, then fell to the ground, sending out a shower of flames and sparks.

Matt threw himself over Tessa. He arched his back, hissing between his teeth. He was burning. He jumped up and ran to the wall, scraping his back on it.

Tessa ran to him. “Let me see.”

“I’m fine. The fire’s out. Let’s get out of here while we still can.”

A small section of the floor above fell down on the other side of the room.

Tessa ducked, but no flaming pieces of wood shot at them this time.

Matt threw the bolt on the trapdoor and pulled the handle. He flung it back and it landed on the floor with a loud thud.

They both crouched down over the opening, but it was pitch-black. They couldn’t see inside to know what they were about to lower themselves into.

“Hang on.” Tessa grabbed the box of crayons from the desk and ran back to the trapdoor. She dropped them into the black hole. A moment later a loud thud sounded as the box hit the ground and spilled its contents.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I’m thinking maybe ten feet. I’ll go down first and catch you.”

He grasped the wood that framed the hole in the floor.

A loud creak and groan echoed through the room. They both looked up. The entire floor above them seemed to be moving.

“No time. Go, go, go.”

They both dropped into the hole below.

M
ATT LANDED HARD,
again. The rocky ground jabbed him in the back, right where the burning wood had scorched his skin. He forced the pain from his mind and scrambled toward Tessa, who’d thankfully fallen onto a small mountain of papers and clothing.

He reached her as she struggled into a sitting position. Light flickered above from the open trapdoor, reminding him how urgent it was for them to get moving. He didn’t want either of them anywhere near that opening when the floor above caved in.

Tessa yanked down the shirt that had been covering her mouth. She suddenly coughed and recoiled against Matt.

“What is it?” he demanded.

She swallowed hard. “I think I found Detective Stephens. Or what’s left of him.”

Matt leaned around her, his stomach tightening at the sight of Stephens’s decomposing body half-covered by the pile of papers and clothes.

“No way to know who died first, since Latham’s body was burned. I wonder if Hargrove killed Latham and Owen killed Stephens. Seems like if Hargrove had killed Stephens, he would have burned him too.”

Tessa pressed her hand to her throat. “Right now I really don’t care who killed whom. I just want out of here.”

Matt sniffed the air and tensed. “This entire pile is soaked in gasoline!”

He scooped her up and set her on her feet. They both swatted at the pieces of paper clinging to her, then linked their hands and took off in a dead run into the darkness beyond.

“Feel the wall on your side to guide us,” Matt shouted. “I’ll feel for obstacles in front of us.”

“Okay!”

They jogged through the blackness, following the curve of the wall, much like they’d done when in the other mine.

An enormous bang sounded behind them. A burst of heat and light reached out toward them but didn’t make it around the curve they’d reached.

They both stopped and gasped in deep breaths of air.

“The bastard’s plan didn’t work,” Matt said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” a voice sneered from the darkness.

A gun boomed in the tunnel. A searing, white-hot heat slammed into Matt’s shoulder. He fell to the ground.

Tessa screamed and crouched down beside him.

He shoved at her, blindly looking around but not seeing where Owen was. “Run,” he urged her. “Go on.”

“I’m not leaving you behind. Get up. Now.” She sounded like a drill sergeant and even slapped him on the butt to get him moving.

Matt would have laughed if he wasn’t so damned scared for her.

“‘Ring around the rosie . . .’” Owen’s voice carried through the darkness as he sang the same song Tessa’s mother had once sung.

“Get up,” she whispered furiously in Matt’s ear.

He gritted his teeth against the pain and climbed to his feet. His left arm, now stabbed and shot, hung completely useless at his side. The warm, wet feel of blood trickled down from his shoulder.

Tessa moved to his other side and grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. He stumbled at first, then steeled himself against the searing pain that lanced through him with every movement.

He squeezed her hand, and they took off down the tunnel.

The sound of Owen’s singing faded as they rounded another curve.

“He’s not even trying to keep up with us,” Tessa said. “Why isn’t he trying to keep up with us?”

“Because he’s having fun, just like his damned father did. A sick little serial killer duo.”

The tunnel began to angle up and to the right before flattening out again. They both slammed into something at waist level and fell to the ground.

Matt sucked in his breath and clutched his arm.

He heard the sound of feet shuffling against the ground as Tessa stood.

“Matt, Matt,” she called out. “I know where we are.”

The excitement in her voice reached him through his haze of pain. He reached his right hand up and loosened the shirt tied around his neck. He fashioned a crude sling out of it to help immobilize his left arm so the pain wouldn’t interfere with his thinking. Immediately the arm felt better.

“What do you mean you know where we are?” he asked.

“We ran into the railcar. It’s the same one I ran into the other day. We’re not in a different mine. We’re in the same one. We just entered it through a different tunnel.”

“If you’re right—”

“Then we know the layout of this section of the mine. And we know the way out.”

Matt nodded, then realized how futile that was since she couldn’t see him.

“‘Ashes, ashes . . .’” Owen’s singsong voice sounded behind them. He was catching up.

“We can’t stay in the main tunnel. There aren’t any curves to give us shelter,” Matt reminded her.

“Then we’ll have to stay in the section where we found Tonya until we can double back to the main tunnel and find the exit,” Tessa whispered.

“Let’s go.”

They reached for each other, laced their fingers together, and took off again.

This time, running through the dark was much easier. They knew the way by heart.

They hurried down the long tunnel, turning left, right, left again. A patch of sunlight beckoned to them up ahead from one of the ventilation shafts.

Matt slowed. Had he heard something behind them?

Tessa tugged his hand. “Come on.”

He grabbed her and pulled her to the ground.

A gun boomed, sending rock and dust raining down on them, right about where Tessa had been standing.

“Ha! You’re making this so damn fun!” Owen laughed, his voice echoing from the darkness.

Matt and Tessa ran in the opposite direction of his voice.

“Get ready,” Matt whispered.

She squeezed his hand, obviously understanding what he meant. They both knew there was another turn up ahead on the right.

Footsteps sounded behind them. Owen wasn’t trying to be quiet this time.

“Now,” Matt whispered. He yanked Tessa’s hand, pulling her into the nearest tunnel.

“Oh guys,” Owen called out from the tunnel they’d just left, “you do know I have night-vision goggles, right?” He burst out laughing, his chortles of glee bouncing off the walls of the mine. “I’m the new, improved serial killer model. Daddy Two-Point-O!” His laughter echoed around them.

Tessa whimpered. “We’re never getting out of here.” She drew a shallow breath, and another, but couldn’t quite get enough air.

“Don’t give up on us just yet.” Matt counted his steps, remembering the layout of the tunnels in his head. Ten, eleven, twelve. He yanked her hand again, pulling her through another opening.

Tessa’s breaths sounded loud and harsh in the silent tunnel.

“Matt . . . I can’t . . . breathe.”

He pulled her to a stop. “Bend your head down,” he whispered. “Try to calm down. Slow, deep breaths.” He rubbed her back. “Slow and deep. There you go. Better?”

She coughed. “Better.”

“Don’t panic. I’ve got an idea.” He just prayed that when Casey and his men had finished their investigation they hadn’t taken everything out. He prayed they’d left the one thing he needed right now.

“Tell me your plan.” Her words came out choppy, labored. “Because I’m all out of ideas.”

Again he timed his footfalls, counting. “To the right.”

She turned with him, trusting him.

He hoped to God she wouldn’t regret that trust.

As the tunnel began to curve farther around and up, she tugged on his hand.

“Wait, wait, this is a dead end. This tunnel ends at the—”

“The cell where I found Tonya. I know. Trust me.”

“I do, but—”

He stopped and pulled her against him. “I don’t have time to explain. Just go with it. I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

She stiffened. “I hate this. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you, damn it. I’m an FBI agent and you’re just a freaking private investigator.”

Her voice sounded mutinous, resentful.

“One of these days, you’re going to respect private investigators, Special Agent James.”

“I’ll respect you right now if you save my ass.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

The sound of footfalls echoed down the tunnel they’d just exited.

He pulled her with him and they sprinted down the tunnel.

When the darkness began to give way to a lighter gray, Matt knew they were close to the corner that would reveal the cell, with its ventilation shaft throwing down just enough light to see shapes but very little detail.

Perfect for his plan.

They rounded the corner.

The light from the ventilation shaft showed them the cell with its door hanging open.

The smell of gasoline and kerosene roiled toward them.

“Oh no,” Tessa cried. “We have to go back. He planned this. We have to go back.”

Matt grabbed her, cursing when the movement jarred his bad shoulder. “We can’t go back. He’s right behind us.” He jerked her shirt up over her mouth and nose again to protect her from the fumes. “Come on. Quick, into the cell.”

She hurried inside with him.

The small bed was still there. Matt blew out a breath of relief and lifted the mattress.

“Grab one of the wooden slats,” he said.

Tessa grabbed the length of wood that helped support the mattress. “What are we supposed to do with these? Go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stake him?”