by Blake Pierce
She knew very well that some apparent connections truly were accidental and meaningless. But she really had to follow up these leads and see where they took her.
A walking trail led from this area to the other end of the park and that graveyard. She left the area where Allison was killed and began to follow that trail. It certainly felt to her that she might be following a route that the killer had taken. A possible scenario continued to develop in Riley’s mind as she made her way through the park
When she arrived at the edge of the cemetery, she looked out over the graves that stretched eerily before her in the moonlight. It was an older cemetery, with a variety of types of headstones, ranging from simple low markers to stately columns. A few areas were in rows but others seemed to be random groupings. Some statues among the graves almost looked like they could come to life on a night like this. She saw one drooping angel that appeared about to lift her wings.
Riley heard a sound and sank back farther among the trees to avoid being seen. Then she saw a figure walking among the tombstones. It was a young woman, her eyes cast downward to see where she was going. Riley was about to warn her that she shouldn’t be out here when she saw another figure following behind the woman. The second figure was wearing a demonic mask, a red devil face with projecting horns. He was definitely closing in on the woman.
It could be the killer after a new victim.
Riley put her hand on her gun, about to step forward and confront him. But even as she did, the young woman turned and saw her stalker.
“Ralphie,” she giggled. “You devil.”
The second figure pushed back his mask and the two kissed passionately. For a moment Riley thought they were going to make love right there among the tombstones. Fortunately the man said, “C’mon, let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” and they ran off hand-in-hand.
Riley relaxed, glad she hadn’t confronted the lovers at gunpoint and spoiled their rendezvous. The graveyard seemed empty of living beings again now, so she turned her attention back to her reason for being here. Remembering the chart she had studied, she soon located the grave she was looking for. Rather than walk out into the open where she would be visible to anyone nearby, she worked her way closer to it by edging her way along the trees that bordered the cemetery. From where she stood, she could see that the spot had a stately double gravestone. She could even read the large carved letters:
TOGETHER FOREVER
But only one side of the double-wide stone was engraved with smaller letters. She knew that must be for Russell Swenson, and that it must be engraved with the dates of his birth and death. The space beside it was blank.
Riley understood it perfectly. Like many devoted couples, Yvonne and Russell had intended to be buried together. The empty gravesite and marker was reserved for Yvonne Swenson. In fact, sometime during the next few days, Yvonne’s mangled corpse would be buried right here alongside her husband’s—a sad, ironic consolation for the horror of her own demise.
Riley got a different feeling now—less a sense of the killer than of poor Yvonne.
In fact, she could almost feel Yvonne’s presence right now.
When Yvonne Swenson had been alive, Riley guessed that she’d always visited her husband’s grave on his birthday—Halloween. Perhaps the killer had found her at his grave, then abducted and killed her.
That would have been two years ago. Maybe since then the killer had treated that grave as a sort of shrine.
If so …
Maybe he’d come here again exactly a year ago on Halloween night, with the purpose of meditating at this grave before striking again.
But would he come here again tonight?
Riley didn’t know.
But again, she started to slip into his mind as she pictured him standing there looking down at the double gravestone. She could imagine him feeling a weird, occult charge from knowing that someday Yvonne’s body would be discovered, and she would be brought here for her final rest. The visit had a profound effect on the killer.
He felt very powerful.
And he felt ready for a new victim.
When he’d turned away from the gravestone, Riley thought he’d gone back through the park the way Riley herself had come, retracing his own steps. When he’d come within view of the street, he’d ducked behind the bush where Riley had just been.
And then …
Riley felt sure of what had happened then.
He’d lured Allison off the street and killed her.
Riley’s sense of connection to the killer broke at a rustling sound behind her.
She turned around, and her heart jumped up into her throat at what she saw. This was no simple devilish costume.
It was a weird creature with a snout, two horns, and hairy legs.
The Goatman!
She drew her weapon.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Riley leveled her weapon at the weird, animal-like figure. He was heavy and tall, with horns extending from a massive head. She didn’t want to tangle with him physically if she could avoid it.
“FBI!” she barked. “Put your hands up!”
The figure obediently stopped in his tracks and raised his arms. His voice sounded genuinely scared as he stammered a high-pitched reply:
“I—I don’t understand.”
Before Riley could explain, a group of costumed children came dashing into the graveyard. They ran around the grotesque character shouting with mock terror.
“Eee! Eee! The Goatman! The Goatman! The Goatman!”
Suddenly the whole situation seemed weirdly unreal to Riley.
What on earth is going on? she wondered.
One of the children pointed at Riley and squealed out, “Look!”
The other children turned and let out shrieks of terror at the sight of Riley with her weapon aimed at the goat figure. Several of them ran away. The smallest kid, dressed up as a one-eyed pirate, grabbed the man by one of his hairy legs.
“Don’t shoot my brother!” he screamed at Riley. “Please don’t shoot him!”
Riley’s spirits sank as she began to realize she’d made a big mistake. She’d let her imagination run away with her at the sight of such a vivid costume.
“Take off your mask,” she commanded the costumed figure.
He obeyed and lifted the entire goat-like head up and off of his own. Riley saw that the unmasked “Goatman” looked like a teenaged boy. A rather large boy, but probably not a dangerous one. He stared at her with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with terror.
“I—I didn’t do anything! I promise.”
Riley herself stammered now, “Why—why are you dressed like that?”
The boy shrugged. “It’s Halloween. I dress up like this every year. I made the head myself out of papier mâché. But I’m not the only kid who wears this kind of costume. Lots of others do. Haven’t you ever heard of the Goatman?”
With a discouraged sigh, Riley lowered her weapon and put it back in her holster. She reminded herself that the Goatman was a Maryland urban legend. It wasn’t surprising that some kids around here dressed up as the creature every Halloween. It was probably a common costume.
I should have expected this, she told herself.
The boy lowered his hands and peered at Riley.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re not FBI. What is this, some kind of Halloween prank?”
Riley stared back at him, unsure what he meant.
He added, “I heard the cops have got the Goatman in custody. So you’re not really after the killer. Sure, local cops are always out on Halloween, but the FBI’s got no business here, not now. So who are you really? Is that even a real gun?”
Riley rolled her eyes wearily.
There’s no way to explain, she thought.
“I’m really FBI,” she said. “Look closer at this badge if you don’t believe me. Or—go ahead, don’t believe me. It doesn’t matter. You’re not supposed to be out here. There’s a curfew, and you know
it, and the cops out here tonight mean business. So get on home. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
The boy grumbled under his breath. Then he looked down at the little pirate, who was still clinging to his leg. “It’s okay,” he said. “Where are the other kids?”
The child let go and pointed to the others, who were clustered behind one of the larger grave markers. With a final skeptical glance at Riley, the teenager led the children away.
As Riley leaned against a tree and tried to gather her wits, she remembered what the boy had just said.
“I heard the cops have got the Goatman in custody. So you’re not really after the killer.”
She knew that meant the killer’s apparent alter ego had finally been leaked to the public. She’d known all along that it was only a matter of time. And now that she’d blown her own cover, word would soon get around that the FBI was still in the area for some reason. How soon would the public figure out that the supposed arrest was only a ruse, and that the killer was still at large?
Not long, she figured.
And that wasn’t going to make things any easier for her or for Sheriff Wightman and his team.
Meanwhile, she wondered what to do next.
Everything was very still and quiet in the graveyard now. She saw no sign of anyone. It was getting late—too late even for boisterous young people, especially with cops on patrol.
But what about the killer?
Might he show up here even yet?
For all Riley knew, he might have been lurking unseen around here for a while now. If he’d witnessed her encounter with the costumed boy and the smaller children, would he sneak away and go into hiding, and possibly not try to kill until next Halloween? That had been one of her principal worries to begin with.
But as Riley tried to tap into her sense of the killer, she thought otherwise. If she was right and this grave was a kind of shrine for him, he wouldn’t let himself get scared away from it too easily.
He’s too determined for that, she thought.
In fact, if he was somewhere nearby right now, maybe even watching her, he might be thrilled by the presence of an FBI agent. He might consider it some sort of challenge. If so, his overconfidence might yet prove to be his undoing. He might even get careless and show himself. If nobody else came along, perhaps he’d even try to come after Riley herself. A female FBI agent might prove to be irresistible bait to the kind of killer Riley sensed him to be.
She went back to the spot where she’d been lying in wait and disappeared back into the shadows.
I’ll just have to wait some more, she thought.
She crouched, watching keenly in all directions.
She was sure the killer would be out tonight. He would try to take someone and murder them. She had no way to guess who that might be.
Or where it might be.
If the Goatman killer wasn’t going to turn up here, then where could he be?
*
April’s frustration grew as she waited for Jilly and the costumed kids to visit yet another house. She kept thinking of Ted calling out to her as he and his three friends walked away.
“Hope you change your mind.”
She growled under her breath.
If only it were up to me, she thought.
But then again, she considered, maybe it was up to her. Ted had said that Jilly would also be welcome at the party. What would be the harm of taking her? She knew the kind of kids who were likely to be there. She didn’t expect any drugs or drinking—nothing that her little sister needed to be protected from. What would be the harm …?
When Jilly and her friends came back, April pulled her sister aside. She saw that Jilly’s purple tote bag with a picture of a ghost on it was bulging.
April smiled at her sister and said, “Quite a bit of loot you’ve got there, huh?”
She could hear Jilly sigh behind her zombie mask.
“I guess.”
“How much more do you want to get?”
“I don’t know.”
Again, April realized that Jilly really wasn’t having the great time she’d hoped to have trick-or-treating. She hoped that maybe Jilly was ready to call it quits.
“Hey, how would you like to go somewhere else?” April asked.
“Where?” Jilly muttered, without any sign of enthusiasm.
“To a party?” April said.
“What kind of party?” Jilly asked.
April said cautiously, “It’s the one … well, you know. The one I mentioned a couple of days ago.”
“You mean the one Mom said you’re not supposed to go to?”
April nodded nervously. Then she heard Jilly gasp behind her mask.
“You mean an honest-to-God high school party, with seniors and juniors and everything? I’m in!”
Unable to keep a note of guilt out of her voice, April added, “OK, but you know I’m supposed to be grounded, so … we can’t tell Mom about this.”
“I won’t say a word,” Jilly said. “But …”
“But what?” April said, worried about what Jilly was about to say.
“What about Gabriela? She’ll be expecting us at home.”
April fought down a discouraged sigh. How could she have forgotten about Gabriela?
April said, “Um, I guess I’ll call her and …”
“And what? Tell her we’re going to a party Mom said not to go to?”
“Not exactly,” April said.
“What, then?”
April didn’t reply. Instead, she took out her cell phone and called home.
When Gabriela answered, April gathered up her courage and said, “Hey, Gabriela, Jilly and I might be out longer than we’d expected.”
A deafening silence followed. April could positively feel Gabriela frowning at her.
“How much longer?” Gabriela finally said.
April felt flustered.
“Oh … we don’t know exactly, it’s just …”
“Are you still trick-or-treating?” Gabriela interrupted.
“Yes,” April said.
As soon as the word was out, April more than half-wished she could take it back. Of course, it wasn’t completely untrue. She and Jilly were technically still trick-or-treating at this very moment. At least they weren’t on their way to the party just yet. Nevertheless, April always found it hard to be less than completely honest with Gabriela—actually a lot harder than it was with Mom.
And she doubted very much that Gabriela believed her.
Another silence fell. Then Gabriela said firmly, “I expect you home in an hour.”
April gulped down a gasp.
An hour?
That would give them hardly any time at the party at all. But she knew she was in no position to negotiate.
“OK,” she said. “Bye.”
Gabriela said nothing, which made it really awkward for April to end the call.
As April put her phone away, Jilly asked, “So what did she say?”
“We’ve got to be home in an hour,” April said.
“An hour!” Jilly moaned with dismay. “We’ll get there just in time to leave.”
April shrugged and said, “Hey, don’t gripe at me about it. Do you want to call Gabriela back and get her to change her mind?”
Jilly shook her head and looked down at the ground.
She looks like one discouraged zombie, thought April.
Then April said, “Look, it’s not much more than a ten-minute walk from here. We can get there in time to have some fun.”
“So where is this party exactly?” Jilly asked.
When April told her the address, Jilly seemed to perk up again.
“Hey, we can make it there in less than ten minutes,” Jilly said, pointing down the street. “All we’ve got to do is cut through that park.”
April looked where Jilly was pointing. She knew the park well, and it appeared to be reasonably well-lighted. Even so, she felt uneasy about this shortcut. She wasn’t even sure
how much time it would save them.
“Jilly, I don’t know …” she said.
Jilly was jumping from one foot to another with agitation.
“Come on, April. I was just starting to take you for a really cool big sister. Don’t disillusion me now.”
April swallowed down her anxiety.
“OK,” she said. “But let’s get a move on. It’s only a shortcut if we hurry.”
April took off toward the park at a trot while Jilly skipped along beside her, somehow managing not to spill any of her candy in her haste and excitement.
As they followed the paved path, April realized that their route was going to be quite a bit darker than she’d expected. A couple of lamps up ahead had gone out. Feeling a bit nervous, she began to walk faster.
Apparently noticing the same thing, Jilly slowed down and fell a little bit behind.
April looked back and said, “Come on, let’s keep going. We’ll be all right if we just go really fast.”
With that, they both broke into a run.
Then they both stopped dead in their tracks.
A large, shadowy figure had stepped in front of them, seemingly from out of nowhere.
“Who’s there?” April demanded.
The figure didn’t reply, but April could see it more clearly now. It was a tall, muscular man entirely clad in black. Even his face was concealed by a plain black mask.
This is no trick-or-treater, April thought, fighting down a wave of panic.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
April stood frozen in her tracks, staring at the sinister figure. He just stood there without replying. He wasn’t moving out of their way either.
April tried to sound braver than she felt …
“Whoever you are, this isn’t very funny.”
There was still no reply, but she could feel his eyes staring at her.
She heard Jilly say in a shaky voice, “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Maybe you’re right,” April whispered back. “Let’s get out of here.”