“It sure is black in here,” Wagner said. “How far inside the mine do you think the gold is?”
“Beats me,” Harlan said. “Who knows if that map was to scale. It might be a mile deep, or five miles.”
“Great. No wonder they haven’t come back yet.”
Harlan came to a halt and waited for Wagner to draw level. He pointed his flashlight down the empty tunnel. “This is a waste of time. Maybe you’re right. Let’s go back to the hotel. We’ll find more workers and try again tomorrow.”
“And if the Mexicans find their way out?”
“They can thumb a ride back to Vegas.” Harlan was already heading back toward the entrance. “Or they can sit here and wait for us to come back. Either way, I don’t care.”
“Suits me.” Wagner hurried to keep up with his boss.
They stepped back out into the cool desert air. Harlan pushed through the bushes clogging the path leading up to the mine on his way back to the truck. When he realized Wagner wasn’t following, he turned back, perplexed. “You coming, or what?”
Wagner was back near the mine entrance, peering inside. “They might be coming. I hear something.”
“About freaking time.” Harlan took a step forward, eager to see what the two men had found inside the tunnels. “Tell them to hurry.”
But Wagner didn’t answer. He stood transfixed, gazing into the darkness beyond the mine entrance.
“Wagner?” Harlan drew closer. “You hear me?”
Still nothing.
Harlan was about to weave his way through the prickly bushes one more time on his way back to the general manager, when he noticed an emaciated figure in the tunnel, approaching through the darkness.
He faltered, stopped.
His heart raced.
A blast of chill air swept past him. And with it came a foul odor, like rotting flesh. But worst of all were the eyes. Two glowing red coals that held him, enthralled. While inside his head a soft voice whispered, and even though he didn’t understand the language, he knew what it wanted.
Yet he couldn’t run, despite the terror that tightened his chest and made his eyes grow wide. He willed himself to move but could not make his legs obey. And when the creature came into view, a demon conjured from the depths of hell with a rakish frame and translucent skin stretched so tight it looked like it would tear, he still didn’t run. Because even though Harlan Biggs knew that he would die if he stayed there, even though he saw the horrific things it was doing at that moment to his friend, Wagner Mitchell, a part of Harlan embraced the voice inside his head that promised everything would be alright. That if he just let it happen, a swift release from this world was imminent, and all his problems would go away. After a little pain, of course…
Chapter Forty-Three
The Clark County Coroner’s Office was a squat one-story tan colored building occupying an entire block west of the interstate in downtown Las Vegas not far from the outlet mall and Fremont Street, where legal gambling first sprung up in the city back in 1931.
It was getting dark, and Decker could see a glow settling over the city to the east, where the downtown casinos and hotels were firing up millions of twinkling lights and neon signs to draw tourists into their glittering dens of excess. Towering above it all was The Strat Hotel, taller than every other building.
Special Agent Barnes pulled into the parking lot and stopped beside a row of white SUVs bearing the Coroner’s Office emblem. They made their way to the public entrance at the front of the building. The office was already closed for the day, but Barnes made a call on his cell phone, and soon a man wearing black scrubs unlocked the doors and let them inside before disappearing back into the building. Moments later a second man arrived, this time wearing a white lab coat.
“Jackson, it’s been a while,” the man said, referring to Barnes by his first name.
“The I-15 Strangler case,” Barnes replied. He nodded toward Decker. “This is my colleague, John Decker. He’s a specialist on loan from another agency.”
“Pleased to meet you, Agent Decker.” The man said. “I’m Doctor Sam Callow.”
“Pleased to meet you too,” Decker said. “And it’s not Agent Decker. Mister will do. Or better yet, just call me John.”
“My apologies,” Callow replied. “You’re here about the Sasha Martin case, is that correct?”
“Yes,” Decker said. “We’d love to get your opinion and also see the body.”
“Sure.” Callow motioned for them to follow him toward the door marked staff only. He produced a key card and swiped it through a reader, then opened the door and held it for them. As they made their way to the pathology lab, he spoke over his shoulder. “I have to say, this was not your run-of-the-mill autopsy.”
“What do you mean?” Decker asked.
“We get a lot of suspicious deaths come through. People who’ve met violent ends. Gunshots, stabbings, suicides. We’ve had the occasional animal attack too, but we rarely see these kinds of wounds inflicted on a body.”
“Really?”
“It was like an animal attack times ten. If I didn’t know better, I’d say an entire pack of animals set upon this poor woman. The damage to her abdomen was extreme. There were signs that the killer was attempting to eat her internal organs. There are bites taken out of her liver,” Callow led them to a door marked Pathology Room Two. He opened it and they entered. “She’s in here. I had the remains transferred from the cooler after the viewing request came through.”
“Thank you,” Barnes said. He glanced toward a metal dissection table where a body lay under a white cloth. “Is that her?”
“Yes.” Callow crossed to the table. “I have to warn you, it’s not a pretty sight.”
“We’ll be fine,” Decker said. He motioned for Callow to remove the sheet.
“We’ve just come from a crime scene containing two victims that we suspect were killed by the same creature that attacked Sasha,” Special Agent Barnes said. “Your colleague, Doctor Lyle, was there.”
“Oh, right. Out near Ghost Canyon?”
“Yes.”
“I was there when the call came in. Thankfully, I wasn’t the ME on duty, or it would’ve been me driving out there, and I’d like to go home on time tonight.”
“We won’t keep you long, then,” Decker said.
“I appreciate that.” Callow gripped the edges of the sheet and folded it back to expose the upper half of Sasha Martin’s body.
Her skin was pallid and tinged blue. A Y-shaped incision, now sewn up, ran from her neck down between her breasts and followed the line of her rib cage. But it was the mess of torn flesh beneath her chest that drew Decker’s attention.
“Remind you of anything?” He asked, looking sideways at Barnes.
“Yeah. Looks very much like the wounds on the two bodies we just left.”
“I think it’s safe to assume the same culprit killed all three.”
“I concur.” Barnes nodded his agreement. “Still doesn’t get us anywhere closer to identifying who or what is responsible, except that it was in the Ghost Canyon Mine at the same time as Sasha.”
“It’s unlikely a human did this,” Callow said. “It has all the hallmarks of an animal attack, but it’s too…” He paused a moment, searching for the right word. “Frenetic. I’ve seen bites from coyotes. Black bear attacks. I even attended the autopsy of a woman mauled by a mountain lion several years ago when I was working in California. This is nothing like those. The weirdest thing is the lack of defensive wounds. Normally there would be bites and scratches to the forearms and hands from the victim’s attempts to fend off the attack. We see none of that here. Frankly, it’s perplexing. Honestly, I have no idea what kind of wild animal could have done this.”
“That’s because it wasn’t a wild animal,” Decker said. “It was something much more dangerous. A supernatural creature.”
“A what now?” Callow looked at Decker as if he’d misheard. “Did you say supernatural?”
> “He did,” Special Agent Barnes confirmed. “And that information is to go no further than the three of us.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Callow replied. “I have no intention of mentioning the supernatural to anyone or putting it in my report. Frankly, if that’s your working theory, I think the pair of you are nuts.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time someone came to that conclusion,” Decker said ruefully. “Will you send me a copy of the report when you have it?”
“Sure. It’s going to be a few days, though. We’re pretty backed up right now.”
Decker nodded. He turned to Barnes. “I think we’ve seen enough to confirm that we’re dealing with one assailant.”
“Agreed.” Barnes let his gaze drift to the dissection table as Dr. Callow replaced the sheet, hiding Sasha from view. “Which means it’s not in the mine anymore.”
“Maybe,” Decker replied thoughtfully. “But Sasha’s attack occurred in the mine where it’s dark. The campers were killed in the middle of the night, also under the cloak of darkness. My hunch is that the creature does not like daylight. And don’t forget the mine entrance was left unlocked last night.”
“You think it came out, attacked those poor people, and then returned to the mine before dawn?”
“That’s exactly what I think. If I’m right, it’s been stuck in those tunnels since pioneer days. It would return to the place it knows.”
“At least we can rest easy tonight then,” Barnes said. “You padlocked the mine entrance after we ran those two guys off.”
“I did,” Decker said. “I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do at the time, but now the decision appears to have been prudent.”
Callow cleared his throat to let Decker and Barnes know he was still there. “Gentlemen? If it’s all the same with you, I’d like to get this body back to the cooler and finish up my day.”
“Absolutely.” Decker shook the man’s hand. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“Anytime,” Callow said. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you both out.”
Chapter Forty-Four
After they left the coroner’s office, Decker and Barnes made their way over to the Strip and stopped at the condominium tower address the license plate check had turned up. They parked inside the first level garage but when they arrived at the entrance found it locked, with a key code required for entry. It only took Special Agent Barnes a few minutes to get them in. He placed a call to the Las Vegas PD, who had an emergency access code in their computer database. This was standard procedure with restricted access buildings. Decker had used many such codes to gain entry to similar apartment and condo blocks when he was with the NYPD.
They crossed the lobby and took the elevator to the eighth floor, but when they arrived at Wagner Mitchell’s door, there was no reply. They waited a few minutes and tried again, to no avail. Wagner Mitchell was not home.
“What now?” Barnes asked. “You want to hang around a while and see if he shows up?”
“Nah. He might not be home for hours,” Decker replied.
“Or he might not come back tonight at all,” Barnes observed. “He could’ve gone home with a date, or even be out of town entirely for all we know.”
“It’s unlikely he’s out of town. We only ran into him this morning.” Decker looked back along the corridor. “I can’t see the point in staying here, though.”
“Me either.” Barnes started back toward the elevator. “I’m getting hungry, and you owe me that burger.”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Not likely,” Barnes pushed the elevator call button. The car must’ve still been there because the doors slid open immediately. He stepped inside and waited for Decker. “I never forget a free burger.”
By the time they arrived back in Haley, it was almost nine o’clock. Special Agent Fowler had returned from the crime scene in the desert and was now sitting at a table in the saloon, making idle conversation with Robyn. Tieg lay at their feet, his head between his paws. When they entered the bar, his tail wagged.
Barnes petted him and told the senior agent about their visit to the coroner’s office. Fowler, in turn, filled them in from his end.
When they were done, Robyn stood up. “If the pair of you are hungry, I still have some food left over from dinner in the kitchen. It’s not fancy. Just chicken salad, you’re welcome to it.”
“That’s mighty nice of you,” Barnes said. “But we stopped and ate on the way back.”
Robyn nodded. “Are we going to be safe tonight? Agent Fowler said two more people died. It sounds dreadful.”
“I wouldn’t worry yourself,” Decker said. “The mine is secure. Whatever is inside, can’t escape now.”
“That makes me feel a better,” Robyn said. “I still don’t like the thought of that creature living in my mine. Have you figured out how to stop it yet?”
“No,” Decker admitted. He still wasn’t sure what the creature was, let alone if it could be vanquished. “My primary concern right now is making sure no one else gets hurt.”
“Of course.”
“As soon as we have a solution, you’ll be the first to know.” Decker glanced around. “Where’s Carlton?”
“Beats me,” Robyn replied. “He keeps to himself unless he’s in here drinking. He’s probably in that falling down cabin of his.”
“I’m not sure him being there is a good idea,” Decker said. “I’m pretty confident that we’re safe here in town, but I would feel better if everyone were in one location given the circumstances. I know the two of you don’t get on very well, but it might be for the best if he stayed in the hotel until we resolve this situation.”
“He won’t do that. I’ve already tried. When Special Agent Fowler first told me what was going on, I told Carlton he could stay here. He declined, in no uncertain terms.”
“He wasn’t friendly about it either,” Fowler said. “It’s a good job he lives alone out in the middle of nowhere, because he wouldn’t last ten minutes if he had to interact with folk on a regular basis. He’s not what you’d call personable.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Robyn agreed. “Although I think in this case, his dislike of me is the driving force much as anything else.”
“You tried, and that’s all that counts,” Decker said. “If he refuses to accept your hospitality, we can’t force him.”
“Still, I’d hate for anything to happen to the old coot.” Robyn managed a weak smile. “He might be a rude and angry jerk, but he’s still family.”
“You’re more forgiving than I would be,” Fowler said. “There’s no excuse for behavior like that.”
“Maybe not.” Robyn shrugged. “But that’s Carlton, and he’s a bit long in the tooth to learn new tricks.”
“I meant what I said as a compliment to you, more than a recrimination of him,” Fowler replied. “Actually, on second thought, I think it was both things at the same time.”
“I know.” Robyn’s smile widened.
“And on that note, I think I’ll bid you all goodnight.” Fowler pushed his seat back and stood up. “Dead bodies create an inordinate amount of paperwork, and I should probably retire to my room and start in on it.”
“Me too,” Barnes said. He turned to Decker. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll see you in the morning. I’d still like to chase down Wagner Mitchell and talk to him if you’re up for it.”
“Sure,” Decker replied. “We’ll go first thing after breakfast.”
Barnes nodded and followed his partner out of the saloon toward the stairs.
Robyn watched them go, then turned to Decker. “I’m going to hit the hay too. I’ve had no time to myself since this all kicked off, and there’s a period romance that I’m dying to finish reading. Gotta find out if the scullery maid gets her prince.”
“If they are anything like the books Nancy reads, I have a feeling she will.”
“Nancy?”
“My better half.”
“Ah.” Robyn nodded then turned toward her quarters.
Decker watched her go and headed toward the stairs. It was a little before ten o’clock, which would be almost midnight central time. It was late, but Nancy would still be awake to take his call, and he was looking forward to hearing her voice.
Chapter Forty-Five
The screech jolted Decker awake, his eyes snapping open. He lay still and listened, waiting for the eerie sound to repeat itself, but there was only silence. He wondered if he’d dreamed the strangely plaintive cry, but he didn’t think so.
It was still dark. The clock on his nightstand read 3 AM. The pillow under his head was wet, the sheets sticky. The room was too warm. He must’ve forgotten to set the temperature on the AC unit when he went to bed. He sat up and turned on the lamp next to the bed. Climbing out, he crossed to the air conditioning control panel near the bedroom door and adjusted the temperature down by five degrees. Soon there was a low hum as the unit kicked on.
Decker was about to climb back into bed when the sound came again, a plaintive high-pitched cry that rose in intensity before dying away.
He hadn’t dreamed it after all. Was it a coyote? He didn’t think so. He’d heard plenty of coyote calls and this had a different timbre.
Decker turned off the bedside lamp and went to the window. He pulled the curtain back enough to see outside. He was the only person sleeping on this side of the building. Robyn’s quarters were at the rear behind the saloon bar, and the two FBI agents occupied rooms on the other side of the hall. Their windows faced the other direction. Only his own room looked down upon the ghost town’s dusty main street, which was lit only by a single exterior lamp affixed to a pole near what had once been the town’s assay office. He could still make out the faint lettering identifying it as such across the wooden building’s weathered frontage.
Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) Page 17