Chapter 89

    Lucycouldn't move. She was lying on a cold stone floor. A draft was coming fromsomewhere. She had been yanked roughly out of the van, walked down some stairs,and deposited on the floor. Then she heard a door slam and a lock turn.

    Then,nothing.

    Thegood news was that her captor had not tightened the plastic band around herwrists. She still had a little slack. She rolled over and began to work on theband, flexing and relaxing her wrists. After a few minutes her lower arms beganto feel numb. She stopped for a while, started again. After ten minutes or soit felt as if she might be able to begin to work her hand free.

    Whenshe had been dropped on the floor she'd felt a small puddle of water. Sherolled over and over until she was on top of it. She angled her body so thather hands got wet. The water was freezing. She had never done well in scienceclasses, but she figured that this might be a good thing, if it helped herhands contract and not the band.

    Shetook a deep breath, bracing against the pain she knew was coming, and startedto twist her wrists out of the plastic band. No dice. She wet her handsa second time. They were growing numb again, but she couldn't stop.

    Thethird time she tried, she felt the band slip over the base of her thumbs. With greateffort she pulled her right hand out of the plastic band.

    Lucystood up, a little shaky, pulled the tape from her mouth. She gulped the coldair.

    Therewas virtually no light in the room. With her hands out front, she felt along thewall. It was a small room, a cellar of some sort. Stone walls. There was abench, a couple of old chairs. Everything had a deep layer of dust on it. Shefelt her way over to the door, listened for a while. Silence. As gently aspossible, she tried to turn the knob.

    Locked.

Chapter 90

    Thetrail of blood stopped about twenty yards into the woods, where the forestbecame thick and tangled before dropping into a steep gorge.

    Jessicaand Bontrager shone their flashlights into the ravine, but the beams wereinstantly swallowed by darkness.

    'Albrechtis hurt pretty bad,' Bontrager said.

    'Ifthis is Albrecht's blood.'

    Bontragerlooked at Jessica, then back at the blood trail, which was quickly being washedaway in the drizzling rain. 'You're right. We don't know if this isAlbrecht's.'

    'Wehave to call it in, Josh.'

    Bontragerhesitated a second, no longer. He ran back to the road, called PPD dispatch,identified himself and their position. Dispatch would contact the closestemergency services agency and police K-9 units.

    Jessicareturned to the road. They stood on the shoulder.

    'I'llstay here,' Bontrager said. 'I'll wait for the search team.'

    'It'sover, Josh. Even if Mike Drummond keeps his word, they're going to put all thistogether.'

    Bontragertook a few steps away, thinking, turned back.

    'Okay.Here's what happened. I was following a lead. I saw the vehicle, pulled over,discovered the blood. I called it in. Before I could get back to my car I wasambushed. This is why I'm a little unclear on the details after that.'

    'Noone is going to buy that.'

    'Maybeyes, maybe no. We'll worry about that later.'

    Jessicaconsidered the scenario. 'Are you sure?'

    'Yeah,'Bontrager said, planting his feet apart. 'Make it look good.'

    Jessicatook a step back. 'Josh . ..'

    'Iknow you box, so try not to kill me.'

    Jessicaput on one of her wool gloves, hesitated. This was getting deeper and deeper.'Are you sure sure?'

    'You'retalking me out of it.'

    Jessicareared back and threw the punch, pulling it a little. It caught Bontrager onthe right side of his jaw. Bontrager reeled back, nearly toppling over.

    'Wow.'

    Shehad bloodied his lip.

    'JesusChrist. Are you okay?'

    Longpause. 'I'm fine. I may never sing with the opera again, but I'm fine.' Hereached down, gathered some dirt from the side of the road, scuffed up his suitcoat.

    Jessicalooked from the van, back to Josh, then up Sawmill Road. According to the map shewas about a mile away.

    Shewanted to tell Josh to call or text her, keeping her in the loop, but it wasnot a good idea. That would put everything on the record. 'You sure you're allright?'

    Bontragerrubbed his jaw, which was already starting to swell. 'Go.' Jessica checked theaction on her Glock, snapped it back into her holster, and started down theroad.

Chapter 91

    Thesmell of just-turned earth fills my senses. Each shovelful brings withit a plaintive voice: a plea of innocence, a shout of unrepentant pride, a wailof sorrow. I hear them all.

    Withthe swing of his crimson hammer Kenneth Beckman took Antoinette Chan to theother side. His wife Sharon had helped. They too smell the earth now, rich withfur and blood and bone. They are joined by Preston Braswell, Tyvander Alice,Eduardo Robles, Tommy Archer, Dennis Stansfield, so many others. The earthalways reclaims.

    Tonight,in this place, white skeletons pass through the gloom. They are all around me.

    Thereis one more note to play. I hear the player coming, creeping through the night.I push the sounds of murders past from my mind, listen for the footfall as itapproaches.

    There.Can you hear it?

    Ihear it.

    Onemore note.

    Myinstruments are ready.

Chapter 92

    Jessicawalked down the road in a darkness so pure and complete that she could not seeher own feet. The drizzle made the going even slower. Her only guide to theroad was the white stripe on either side, along with the compass app on herphone, which she was reluctant to use. It seemed to put a spotlight on her.According to the GPS, she would be coming up on the parcel in a few minutes.

    Shepassed a drive every so often, a gravel lane that snaked back into the woods.

    Whenshe came to the rear entrance to the Briarcliff Cemetery she saw that it wasunmarked. Instead there were two fieldstone pillars, connected by a chain witha padlock on it. On one of the pillars was a rusted sign warning thattrespassers would be prosecuted. Jessica clicked on her Maglite, aimed it atthe ground, and headed into the cemetery.

    Theonly good thing about walking through the woods was that she was now somewhat shelteredfrom the rain. Before long she came up to the southern end of the graveyard.She couldn't see far, but she did see lights in the distance. There appeared tobe three large houses, perhaps a quarter-mile apart. She continued down theaccess road, passing crypts, monuments, row after row of manicured graves andexpensive headstones. This was a world apart from the Mount Olive cemetery.

    Ateleven-thirty she reached the far end of the cemetery, the area that abuttedthe rear of Christa-Marie Schönburg's house.

    Justas she was about to cross the field, to the rear of the property, her Maglitefound a headstone bearing the legend:

DR. GABRIEL THORNE

HEALER AND FRIEND

    Thegrave had recently been dug up.

    AsJessica got closer she was overwhelmed by the size of the house. It was athree-story Tudor, half-timbered, with cross gables and a steeply pitched roof.Two massive chimneys rose at either end, both topped with chimney pots. A largedeck jutted out over the backyard.