“Son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered, leaned back in his chair and resumed staring at the board.
Deputy Havens poked his head into the sheriff’s office. “Did you call me?”
“No,” Carter muttered. “Unless your name is Deputy Bitch.”
The deputy entered the office and stared at Marlene’s photo all by itself pinned to the left-hand side of the whiteboard.
“Should we bring Brant back in for questioning?” Deputy Havens asked.
“No,” the sheriff muttered into his knuckles while resting his chin on his fist. “With Martin’s deathbed confession to the murders, the evidence against Brant is shaky at best.”
“Marlene was killed in his basement, and he doesn’t have an alibi from the time she left work until the moment she was killed,” Havens reminded him. “It doesn’t look good for him.”
“Yes, but everything we found in the upstairs bedroom pointed to Brant killing the women Martin confessed he’d killed,” Sheriff Carter reminded him. “Sure, the knife we found was used to kill Marlene, but it wasn’t used on the other victims. We found the dagger Martin had used and another phantom costume in his bedroom at his father’s ranch. It’s obvious everything in Brant’s spare bedroom was planted there to frame him. Martin didn’t frame Brant, so that means whoever killed Marlene planted those things in Brant’s house.”
“So you don’t think he killed Marlene?” Deputy Havens asked with surprise.
Sheriff Carter frowned without moving his mouth from his knuckles and continued to stare at the board. “Nope, I’m convinced he’s innocent.”
“So who killed Marlene?”
“I have no clue.”
§
It was a little after six o’clock Saturday evening and another fun-filled night of work for Tony at the funeral home. It seemed a lifetime since he’d had a day off after the rash of murders provided additional work for the mortuary. Things were finally returning to normal until yesterday’s death meant another weekend of work. Tony took it in stride and hummed while busily working on his most recent client spread out on the metal prep table. There was a knock on the interior prep room door, surprising him. Tony looked up as the door opened. As Ivy poked her head into the prep room, Tony covered his client out of reflex. He relaxed when he saw it was just Ivy. Tony laughed nervously.
“You startled me,” Tony announced and leaned on the table. “I really need to lock the front door when I’m working in the prep room.”
Ivy managed a timid smile and indicated the covered body. “Is it okay if I come in?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Tony announced and smiled. “Mr. Rumsfeld won’t mind.”
She eyed the sheet then cringed. “Old man Rumsfeld?” Ivy nearly choked while seeming tense. “Didn’t he, uh, shoot himself in the head with a shotgun?”
Tony grimaced and managed a tiny nod. “Yeah, it’s, uh, well, sort of--” He groaned and shook his head. “Definitely a closed casket affair. You don’t want to see it; trust me.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she announced then indicated the interior door to the kitchen. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied and pointed to the door. “Make yourself comfortable in the kitchen. Just give me a minute to, uh, clean up.”
She eyed the dark smears of old blood on his apron and nodded. “Sure,” she replied and grimaced. “Take your time. Scrub thoroughly.”
Ivy exited the prep room and entered the kitchen. She approached the stove and put water in the kettle to make tea for them. The kettle finally whistled, and she had just poured two cups of tea when Tony entered the kitchen. He leaned against the counter near her and eyed her almost suspiciously.
“So what brings you here this time of night?” he asked then raised his brows. “And a Saturday no less. Don’t you and Devon have important partying to do?”
“She’s working this evening, and I didn’t feel like going out by myself.” Ivy leaned on the counter near him and managed a tiny smile. “I was offered the part in the soap opera.”
Tony’s eyes suddenly lit up and he immediately hugged her. “Congratulations!” He pulled back just far enough to look into her eyes. “And without sleeping with some sleazeball. I’m proud of you.”
She placed her hand on his chest and frowned. “I turned it down.”
Tony released her and appeared surprised. “What?” he practically gasped. “Why would you do that?”
“Turns out the scenes won’t be filmed at the resort,” she replied. “The job is in New York City.”
“Okay,” he replied not understanding. “What’s wrong with an acting job in New York? I mean, that’s big time, right?”
She fidgeted slightly and avoided looking at him. “I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Ivy announced then drew a deep breath. “I don’t want some acting job that’ll take me away from my family and friends.” She stared into his eyes. “There’s another reason.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
Ivy placed her hands on his face and kissed him warmly but passionately on the lips. She pulled back and stared into Tony’s eyes. He stared at her with some surprise then smiled.
“Good reason,” he announced then pulled her into his arms and returned the kiss.
§
Ivy and Tony fell apart on the bed beneath the sheets while panting after their wild lovemaking. Tony wore a permanent grin on his face while Ivy was pleasantly rumpled. Ivy moved against Tony and rested her head on his bare chest. Tony clung to her and caressed her shoulder. She affectionately kissed his chest while he watched her and attempted to control his rapidly beating heart.
“Can you call your mother and see if you can spend the night?” he teased.
She eyed him and laughed.
“Sorry,” he remarked while grinning. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl over.”
“That long, huh?” Ivy giggled.
“I exaggerate,” he replied then nodded. “But it has been a while.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t spend the night,” she sadly informed him. “I have to drive my mother to the airport at an ungodly hour tomorrow morning.” She then offered a sly grin. “On the bright side, I’m free the rest of the week until she gets back on Friday.”
“Well, then I’ll settle for the rest of the week,” Tony announced cheerfully. “Do you have enough time for a shower?”
“I should probably go,” she replied while frowning. “I’ll see myself out.”
“I understand,” he replied then kissed her warmly but passionately before pulling back and grinning. “If you change your mind; I’ll be in the shower.”
Chapter Fifty-one
Devon arrived at the museum Saturday evening a little before seven o’clock. She entered the workshop and paused in the doorway, surprised to see Tyler sitting at the counter working on one of his hideous creations. He cursed and wiped some paint from the wax face before him. Devon looked around with bewilderment then approached while summoning a pleasant mood.
“Good evening, Tyler.”
Tyler looked back with surprise. “Devon, I wasn’t sure you were coming back tonight.”
“I thought I’d get a few hours in,” she announced. “I needed to get away from home for a while anyway.” Honestly, she didn’t want to think about Martin anymore right now. It was too painful. “Where’s Brant?” she asked. “He said he’d be here.”
“He had to run a few errands,” Tyler replied. “He’ll be back soon.”
Devon walked toward the rack against the far wall and slipped into her lab coat. She took a seat at the counter before an awaiting wax head.
“Are you going to the city tonight?” she asked while starting her work on the wax woman’s hair.
“More than likely,” he replied then walked behind her. “Would you like to come along? I’m attending a friend’s party. It should be great fun.”
“I’m working tonight,” she announced then looked back and offered a tiny smile. “My
first night back after a week off.”
Tyler sat alongside her and grinned. “I’m your boss, remember?” he teased. “I give you permission to take the night off.”
Tyler placed his hand on her arm and affectionately stroked it.
Devon pulled her arm away and glared at him. “You know I’m dating Brant.”
“Oh, come on,” he announced and offered a slight chuckle. “We both know your thing with Brant will end the moment you meet his mother. She’ll never approve of some small town girl.” He raised his brows while staring at her. “Brant comes from a long line of wealthy snobs, and you’re nothing like those people. My family, however, will welcome you with open arms.”
He again attempted to touch her arm. She sprang up from her chair and glared at him.
“Leave me alone,” she snapped and hurried from the room.
§
Devon entered the mummy display with a rag and a can of turpentine. She needed to cool off before another confrontation with Tyler. Hopefully, Brant would be back and that would be the end of it. The carefully wrapped mummy was in a stalking position while a frightened woman was braced against a pillar in the ancient tomb setting. There were fake gold trinkets, statues, life-sized idols, and several wax archaeologists with horrified expressions upon their faces. There was a frightened woman apparently begging for her life from the horrifying mummy not far from the woman positioned against the pillar. As beautiful as the standing woman was, the begging woman was hideous and caked with makeup.
Unfortunately, she was one of Tyler’s creations, easily recognized by the heavy and unrealistic makeup. Devon placed some turpentine on the rag, crouched alongside the begging woman, and attempted to clean her excessively painted face. Devon wasn’t sure how many layers of paint she removed before finally reaching the base coat. Once she finished removing the excess makeup from the begging woman, she sat back on her feet and eyed the woman braced against the pillar only a foot or two away from her. She noticed the woman’s legs below the light brown skirt she wore.
There was a strange indent on her calf that traveled a few inches downward. Devon ran her finger along the indent and studied it a long moment. It looked almost like a scar that had been covered over. She again looked up at the wax woman and felt as if something was off. Devon stood, moved closer, and studied the beautiful woman’s face. Something about her seemed familiar, although she had worked on a lot of wax figures in recent weeks, particularly since they’d received the large shipment from the closed museum.
She stared into the wax woman’s eyes a long moment then eyed the dark hair. The dark hair didn’t seem right. Somehow, Devon felt the woman should be blonde. As Devon continued to stare at the wax woman’s face, something suddenly clicked, and she knew why the face was familiar. She tore the hat from the wax woman’s head then ripped the dark wig off with some effort, revealing golden blonde hair. Devon stared at Chelsea beneath the tan explorer’s costume. She jumped back with a startled, horrified cry and backed into the mummy. She turned with a gasp, scaring herself.
As the mummy stared back at her through slits in the bandages, she saw something oddly familiar. Devon fumbled with scissors from her pocket, carefully cut the bandages around the head, and practically ripped the bandages off. To her horror, she saw her dead brother staring back at her. She dropped the scissors and gasped with horror as tears filled her eyes.
“No.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Martin in his state of wax eternity. Her situation then dawned on her. Devon looked in the general direction of the workshop and stared a moment, wondering if anyone had heard her. She didn’t wait to find out. She took one final look at her brother then ran from the display, away from the workshop, and toward the stairs. She raced up the stone dungeon steps, bolted to the front desk near the main entrance, and grabbed the phone. She punched in several numbers and nervously stared down the walkway as if expecting someone to chase after her. She heard a male voice on the phone.
“Deputy Havens,” she gasped. “Oh, thank God! I need you to come out here right away--”
The line went dead. Devon felt her heart skip a beat then pound wildly. She hit several buttons but didn’t get a dial tone. Was it a coincidence that the phone went dead? She doubted it. Devon ran for the main entrance, bolted through the door, and ran across the parking lot to Martin’s blazer. She threw open the door and jumped inside. She felt her pockets and realized she’d left her keys in the workshop. She screamed with frustration and slammed her hands on the steering wheel. She sprang from the car and looked around the vast farmland to the distant lights of town beyond the cornfield. She was completely isolated. She then saw lights from Tony’s funeral home just a cornfield away.
“Tony,” she gasped then ran across the parking lot for the road.
Devon ran alongside the cornfield toward the awaiting funeral home while casting several looks behind her. She found it strange that no one was following her. She was almost certain someone should have been following her.
Chapter Fifty-two
Devon ran across the funeral home parking lot and noticed Ivy’s jeep was parked out front. She wasn’t sure why Ivy was at the funeral home that time of evening, but she was relieved for the additional support. She ran onto the elegant funeral home porch and tried the door only to discover it was locked. For the first time in his entire career, Tony locked the front door! Why would Tony lock the door while Ivy was visiting? It wasn’t as if they were doing something requiring privacy. She pounded on the door several times, but there was no response. What the hell were they doing in there?
She looked around with concern, half expecting someone to be chasing her. Devon was almost surprised when she didn’t see anyone, but she still didn’t feel safe. She ran from the porch and hurried to the back of the funeral home, which was where Tony spent most of his time prepping clients. He had to be there. She reached the back door to the prepping room and pounded violently while screaming. The door was almost immediately unlocked and opened. Tony stared at her with some surprise and confusion.
“Devon?” he practically gasped. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
“No,” she cried out.
Devon grabbed him, pulled him inside with her, and immediately slammed and locked the door. Tony watched her with confusion and some concern. She cast her back against the door and sobbed while burying her face in her hands as she sank down to the floor.
Tony kneeled before her and gently touched her arm. “Hey,” he announced in a soothing tone. “Are you okay? What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
Devon looked at him with a completely shaken expression. “You have to call the police,” she gasped coming back to life. “They need to go to the museum right away.”
“What? Why?” he gasped. “What happened? What’s going on?”
“Tell them--tell them they’re using dead people in their displays,” she practically cried out then stared into his eyes with horror. “I found Chelsea and Martin in the mummy display.”
Tony stared at her as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Are you serious?” he nearly choked.
“Please, just do it.”
“You think Tyler and Brant--?”
“Tony, please,” she begged while fighting her tears and frustration.
Tony nodded and hurried across the room to the wall phone. Devon exhaled a deep, shaken breath and stared at the sheet-covered client on the metal table. Today just wasn’t the day for seeing more dead people. She knew Tony’s job, but somehow she found it unsettling right now. As she stared at the covered client on the table, she saw the chest rise. Devon’s eyes suddenly widened in horror. She slowly stood and continued to stare. She could barely hear Tony talking on the phone over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Devon uncertainly approached the table and stared at the sheet-covered body. The head beneath the sheet turned to the side.
Devon gasped with alarm, catching Tony’s attention while on the phone. He turne
d and looked at her. Devon snatched the sheet and whipped it off the body. Ivy clutched the nylon rope around her neck and pulled it free while loudly gasping just before she passed out. The horror of seeing her friend lying on the metal table was almost too much. Although she was alive, it made no sense. Devon looked at Tony with a horror she had never known. Tony tossed the phone down and bolted across the room toward her. Devon screamed and jumped backward into the counter, almost uncertain which way to go. Her friend was lying helplessly on the table, but her own life was hanging on the line. Tony snatched the discarded rope from the table near Ivy.
“How could you?” she cried out with horror, although she knew she should be running. How could she run? She couldn’t just leave her immobile, nearly unconscious friend alone with the man who tried to kill her.
“Believe me, Devon,” he announced while staring at her. “I didn’t want this to happen.”
Tony lunged for her with the rope. Devon bolted for the nearby door and attempted to unlock it when the rope circled her neck from behind. Tony pulled on it. Devon clutched the rope and gasped for air. For a moment, she was paralyzed with fear. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind in the moment she thought she was going to die. She decided it wouldn’t be today. Devon went against instinct and released the rope. She rammed her elbow backward into Tony’s mid-section with all of her strength. Tony gasped as the air was knocked from him, forcing him to back up a step and release the rope.
Devon turned toward the counter, grabbed a sharp, tube-like instrument, and clutched it in a threatening manner. Tony moved toward her despite the dangerous object in her hand. She screamed in fear and anger while plunging it into his shoulder. He cried out with surprise and pain before stumbling backward. Ivy suddenly wheezed while sitting up on the table. Devon rushed to her side and aggressively pulled her from the table. Ivy’s feet hit the floor, and she immediately collapsed to her knees.
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