by CW Browning
“Dreaming of freedom?” Stephanie came up behind him. “Or just getting some fresh air?”
“Neither,” John retorted. “Did we know the Black Widow was coming?”
Stephanie looked past him to the woman striding up the brick pathway and grinned. John had nicknamed his ex-fiancé after the comic book femme fatale two months ago after seeing her in action. Stephanie had to admit that right now she looked the part. Alina was dressed all in black, with a lightweight jacket hanging open to reveal a fitted tank top underneath. She moved with a dangerous stride that made the uniformed officers watch her warily as she passed them.
“I called her,” Stephanie told John, opening the door a little wider to push past him. “I want her opinion on the Dungeon.”
“You think she'll know how they got in?” John asked skeptically.
Stephanie glanced back at him.
“Can you think of anyone else who might have a better idea?” she retorted.
“Good point.” John grinned suddenly. “Maybe it was her.”
“For God's Sake, don't say that to her!” Stephanie exclaimed with a laugh. “I already asked her where Damon was and she got decidedly frosty with me.”
“Ah hell, is he running loose?” John's grin turned to a scowl.
“Yep.” Stephanie stepped out onto the top of the steps. “She says he's not here on business.”
“I'll believe that when I see it,” John muttered. “I'm going to check on Mac out back. I'll meet you upstairs.”
Stephanie nodded and watched as the woman approached the steps to the prison. Alina glanced up, her eyes concealed behind black sunglasses, and Stephanie smiled down at her old friend.
“Welcome to prison,” she called down to her.
Alina started up the cement steps, casting her eyes over the gray brick front of the prison. It was a solid, imposing structure and her gaze paused on one of the old windows protected by iron bars. Even over 150 years later, the prison still had the power to intimidate and Alina shook her head slightly.
“It certainly still makes a statement,” she murmured, joining Stephanie at the top of the steps. She took off her sunglasses and propped them on top of her head. “Should I be worried?”
“Not unless haunted prisons creep you out,” Stephanie answered with a laugh.
Alina raised an eyebrow.
“Haunted?” she repeated. “Oh Steph, we need to get you out more.”
“I'm just repeating what I was told,” Stephanie retorted. “Come on. I want your professional opinion.”
Alina crooked her eyebrow again and, after a last look around outside, she followed Stephanie through the massive doorway and into the prison. As soon as she stepped inside, the smell of history assaulted her and she sighed. Old buildings all smelled the same. It was an undefinable smell of age, must and something that Alina could only associate with history. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, but it was inevitably followed by the awareness of a presence that Alina usually tried to ignore. Her mind flashed back to the night before and the chill that had stayed with her until she was out from the shadow of this very prison's walls.
“Professional opinion doesn't sound good,” Alina murmured as she glanced around the white-washed hall. “Don't tell me you found a body here.” Stephanie looked at her sharply and Alina's eyebrows soared into her forehead. “Really?” she asked in surprise.
“Well, not a whole body,” Stephanie qualified. “Just an arm.”
“An arm?”
“Yes.” Stephanie motioned for her to follow her down the narrow hall toward an open gate and a flight of narrow steps. “It gets better. I'll explain upstairs.” They approached the steps and a museum guard nodded to Stephanie, his eyes sliding to Alina curiously. “This is Karl. He was the guard on-duty last night,” Stephanie told her, motioning to Karl. “Karl, Ms.—”
Stephanie broke off suddenly, glancing at Alina in flustered confusion. Alina held out her hand to the guard and a faint, impersonal smile crossed her face.
“Ms. Woods,” she introduced herself smoothly with one of her many aliases. Her dark eyes caught Karl's, commanding his attention and covering Stephanie's hesitation so flawlessly that Stephanie doubted he even noticed her stumbling stop. “Raven Woods.”
“Ms. Woods.” Karl grasped her hand and smiled into her eyes. “A pleasure.”
“It looks like your shift turned into a triple,” Alina commented. “You must be ready to go home.”
“Not at all,” Karl answered with a grin, releasing her hand after holding it a second longer than strictly necessary. “These old walls haven't seen this much excitement in years. I offered to stay on and help Ms. Walker out anyway I can.”
“And I'm thankful you did,” Stephanie said with a smile, starting up the steps.
“Careful on the steps, Ms. Woods.” Karl moved out of the way so Alina could follow Stephanie. His eyes dropped to her feet. “They're not quite even. I wouldn't want you to trip in those boots.”
“Oh, don't worry about me,” Alina murmured over her shoulder with a wink.
She followed Stephanie up the steps, aware of Karl watching them. She didn't know about the walls of the prison, but she was pretty sure that Karl hadn't seen this much excitement in this old building in years.
“Flirt,” Stephanie murmured in a low voice over her shoulder. Alina grinned unrepentantly.
The two women reached the top of the steps and were met by two uniformed police officers, both of whom looked at Alina curiously. She nodded to them as Stephanie ushered her into the hallway.
“This is the top floor of the prison,” she told her, leading her along the narrow corridor. “It's where the serious offenders were held when the prison was in use. As you can see, the cells are open. The only one that's not is this one.”
Stephanie came to a halt outside the Dungeon. Alina looked at the now-open door to the cell.
“They call this one the Dungeon,” Stephanie told her, watching as Alina glanced at the bars before stepping up to the open doorway. “It was used for...”
“Solitary confinement,” Alina finished for her, her eyes dropping to the metal ring in the center of the floor.
“Exactly.” Stephanie nodded. “Inmates were also held here while they were awaiting execution.”
“Charming,” Alina murmured, her eyes scanning the small cell. “Not a very imaginative example of a tortured inmate,” she added with a nod to the white dummy figure. Stephanie smiled briefly.
“Not really, no,” she agreed.
Alina lifted her eyes to the small window near the the ceiling before looking at the walls thoughtfully.
“I saw a fireplace in one of the cells we passed. Do they all have fireplaces?” she asked, glancing at Stephanie.
“All but this one,” Stephanie said. “It was part of the design for the prison. According to the museum guide, it was the first of its kind in this country. The architect designed it to be more humane, with windows and fireplaces in every cell.”
“Interesting,” Alina scanned the cell again slowly before turning to look at Stephanie, “but you didn't bring me here for a history lesson.”
“No.” Stephanie shook her head. “This cell is kept locked. As you can see, the door is made out of bars so visitors can see into the cell, but can't go in. Early this morning, at either two-thirty am or four, someone left an arm inside this locked cell.”
“Who's arm?” Alina asked.
“Rodrigo Frietas,” Stephanie answered, lowering her voice slightly. “He was an informant of mine.”
Alina glanced at her quickly, her face unreadable.
“Was?” she asked softly.
“I don't think we'll find him alive, do you?” Stephanie replied. “We've switched gears from looking for a missing person to searching for a body.”
Alina nodded slightly and turned her attention back into the cell.
“Probably a good idea,” she said. “How long has he been missing?”
“About a
week.” Stephanie glanced past her shoulder and Alina turned her head to watch as a tall, broad-shouldered man moved down the corridor towards them. His blond hair glinted in the light from the windows and his pale blue eyes rested on Alina assessingly. “We haven't been able to find a trace of him, until now.”
“Not quite the trace I imagine you were hoping for,” Alina remarked, turning to face John. She nodded to him. “John.”
“Lina.” He nodded back.
“When was the arm found?” Alina asked, returning her attention to the cell.
“This morning, when Karl made his rounds,” Stephanie answered. “He had to go downstairs to get the key to unlock the door.”
Alina shot her a look from under her lashes.
“Where was the arm?”
“Leaning against the wall, next to the dummy.”
Alina looked at the dummy, then glanced at Stephanie again.
“May I?” she asked. Stephanie nodded and Alina stepped into the cell. As soon as she was two steps into the cell, a chill streaked down her spine and she frowned slightly. It was the same feeling she felt last night in the haunt behind the prison. “It was there?”
Pushing the feeling aside, Alina pointed to the evidence marker next to the dummy.
“Yes,” Stephanie answered from the doorway.
She and John watched as Alina turned her attention to the high stone ceiling. She turned around slowly, scanning the walls and ceiling, before bringing her gaze to the metal ring in the floor. They watched as she crouched down and hooked a finger through the ring, pulling on it.
“Karl didn't hear anything? Where was he?” Alina asked, glancing up with a suddenly piercing gaze.
“Downstairs in the welcome center,” John answered. “Aside from the motion detector alarms, he didn't hear a thing.”
Alina's lips curved slightly and she lowered her gaze again, pulling her finger out of the ring and looking at the dummy thoughtfully. After a second, she stood up and turned to look up at the window again.
“Tell me about the alarms,” she said without turning her head.
John glanced at Stephanie, who was watching Alina, and she nodded.
“The motion detector went off at two-thirty,” John said, clearing his throat slightly. “It's a common occurrence, apparently, so Karl checked the monitors. When he didn't see anything in the corridors, he didn't come up to investigate.”
“Of course not,” Alina murmured. Her eyes rested on the glint of afternoon sun slicing through the gloom. The shaft of light fell in a triangle across the cell, resting on the metal ring in the floor. The icy chill was spreading across her shoulders now, but she resolutely ignored it. “Let me guess.” She turned to face them, her lips twisting. “Ghosts.”
“I told you they said it was haunted,” Stephanie replied with a grin. “Karl says this area is one of the two most active in the building.”
“Where's the other one?” Alina asked sharply.
“In the basement,” John answered.
“Hmm.” Alina pursed her lips and looked at the evidence marker on the floor next to the dummy. “You said the motion detector went off twice? The second time was...”
“Around four.” John slid his hands into his pockets and leaned on the edge of the cell door. “At that point, Karl did come and investigate.”
“But he didn't see the arm until later?”
“He says he didn't look in this cell because the door was locked,” John told her.
Alina glanced at him and met his pale blue gaze. The note of disgust in his voice was reflected in his eyes and she chuckled.
“Of course not,” she murmured. “So you don't know when the arm appeared?”
“Not really.”
Alina took one last look around and moved toward the door. The constant chill along her shoulders and back disappeared suddenly and she stopped short about a foot from the door. Stephanie and John both looked at her curiously as she turned swiftly to look behind her.
“What's wrong?” John asked.
Alina's eyes narrowed and she frowned, gazing about the empty cell slowly. She wasn't a fanciful woman, but there was no doubt in her mind about what she had just felt.
Something had grabbed her leg.
“Nothing,” she said slowly as she turned back toward the door. “It's nothing.”
“I'm assuming you've been all through this place with a fine-toothed comb?” Alina asked, glancing at Stephanie as they emerged from the prison the same way they entered.
“And then some,” Stephanie agreed. “No sign of the rest of the body, and no signs of forced entry anywhere.”
“What about the lock on the cell door?”
“Doesn't appear to be tampered with,” she answered.
“Hm.”
Alina jogged down the steps and dropped her sunglasses back onto her nose. She turned to look up at the structure for a minute before walking along the brick pathway running parallel with the front of the building.
“That's all you have to say?” Stephanie demanded, falling into step beside her. “Hm?”
“Well, it is Halloween in a week,” Alina replied with a shrug. Stephanie grinned.
“That's what I told John,” she said. “I swear, all the crazies come out this time of year.”
“Don't forget the ghosts,” Alina pointed out, a touch of sarcasm lacing her tone.
“Well, there must be something going on in there,” Stephanie said thoughtfully after a moment. “That TV show about haunted places filmed an episode here, and Karl says several people have felt and seen things that are unexplainable.”
“Like body parts appearing in locked cells?” Alina asked, raising her eyebrow and casting an amused look at Stephanie.
“Not body parts, no,” Stephanie answered, unusually serious for once. “I've been told by several museum workers that objects are moved regularly and placed in other rooms throughout the museum when no one is there. Things happen that can't be explained away easily. Workers have heard banging and movement on empty floors. The Dungeon itself has its own weird things. People smell weird smells in there, and I got severe abdominal cramps in there myself earlier. Rachel, the museum guide, says it's common and has been attributed to the spirit of some prisoner who was hanged here. Something must be going on in there. That many people can't be delusional.”
“Oh, there's something going on in there, all right,” Alina told her. “I just don't think it has anything to do with ghosts.”
“Let me ask you, just between us and off the record,” Stephanie stopped walking and faced Alina, “do you think any of this is possible?”
“Any of what, exactly?”
“The arm in the locked cell,” Stephanie clarified. “Do you think it's possible for a person, a real person, to have gotten the arm into that cell while it was locked?”
Alina stopped and looked up at the prison thoughtfully.
“Well, it's obviously possible,” she said. “Someone did it.”
“Could you have done it?” Stephanie asked.
Alina's lips curved into a faint smile and she returned her gaze to Stephanie's face.
“Well, that's a different question,” she said softly.
“And you won't answer it?”
Alina studied Stephanie quietly for a moment.
“You already know the answer,” she answered quietly. “You wouldn't have asked me to come, otherwise.”
She turned and followed the path around the corner of the Warden's House that was attached to the prison. Stephanie followed, a reluctant smile playing on her face. She had forgotten how slippery Alina could be when asked a direct question. She should have known she wouldn't get a straight answer.
“Have you sent anyone up on the wall yet?” Alina asked as they walked past the Warden's House and into the small parking lot behind it.
The car park was empty now, but the ropes cording off the lines where they waited last night to enter the haunted walk were still there.
; “Are you volunteering?” Stephanie replied.
Alina laughed and stopped to look up at the massive stone wall enclosing the prison yard at the back. When she glanced at Stephanie, she was still smiling.
“Not this time,” she answered. “It's all yours. Go up on the other side of the yard, though. This side is too exposed to the road.”
“What am I looking for?” Stephanie asked.
Alina turned her gaze to the back of the prison, the second level of which was visible above the wall.
“A clear shot to the window of that cell.”
Chapter Six
“Tell me again what I'm looking for?” John demanded, glaring down at Stephanie from the top of the wall.
“Any sign that someone else was up there recently, for starters,” Stephanie retorted, sipping her coffee. She tossed a laser measurement gun up to him and he caught it deftly with one hand while he balanced himself on his knees with the other. “And I want to know if you can get a clear shot to the Dungeon window from anywhere along that wall.”
“You'd have to be Spider-man,” John told her, glancing behind himself. “I really need two hands to balance myself. It's not exactly like a walkway up here, you know.”
Stephanie shaded her eyes with her free hand against the late afternoon sun and watched him as he examined the top of the wall. She honestly had no idea what to tell him to look for because she had no clue what Alina was thinking in that head of hers. However, if she had learned one thing in the past few months, it was that Viper's instincts were never wrong. If she thought the wall was significant, then it most likely was. End of story.