by Stacy Green
“Of course not. I wanted to rattle him, see if I could find out about his partners. I had a gut feeling he wasn’t the only one involved, and I was right. He emailed me several pictures of his fakes and told me to take a closer look.”
“You discovered the Dixie Mafia connection?” Jaymee runs her fingers through my hair.
“I discovered Wyatt Booth and Norton were somehow involved. But then I recognized the cartridge case and forgot everything else.” My ribs seize, and I want to howl in agony. “Not two days before Ben Moore sent me the email, I read about the Emery Lewis case for the first time in years. I saw the picture of him with the cartridge box, grinning and smug. When Ben’s pictures came, I never bothered to look very deeply into the rest.”
“Yeah well, everything happens for a reason,” Dani says. “This whole mess may have saved a lot of people’s lives. And hopefully puts Booth behind bars.”
Jaymee finally frees my feet. “And what about us?”
“Cage will get the voicemail. Whatever Jeb does, Cage’ll be here.” Dani angles the keys toward me, the bright light hurting my tender eyes. “What exactly happened to Emery Lewis? Did Jeb tell you?”
“He did. How much do you know?”
“We know that Lewis dated Margaret Asher, who’s a crazy bitch, by the way,” Jaymee says. “And he was probably killed in the cave Booth wants to mine. And obviously, Beau and Jeb did it.”
“Along with Matt Hastings.”
“The reporter?” Dani’s eyes look like a bat’s glowing in the dark.
“The short version, because that’s all I can manage right now, is this: Jeb and Beau are cousins, used to be close. Ran around with Matt Hastings, although he was more of a follower. In 1964, Lewis shows up. The entire state is in an uproar because of civil rights and tensions are high.” I take a shallow breath. My ribs are killing me, but I need to tell them. “They didn’t like Lewis from the beginning, and his dating Margaret set Beau off. They waited for him one night and ambushed him. They were only going to beat him up, but according to Jeb, Beau got out of hand. Then they realized Lewis wasn’t breathing. So they buried him in a cave—which turns out to be the one you’re talking about. You say you found the axe handle?”
“It’s in the truck,” Dani says. “Naturally.”
I nod. “They beat him with it. Guess that’s why they left it in the cave. They agreed to keep what happened secret, with Beau warning the others his family had enough power to get him out of it and pin it on the other two guys. Even though Jeb’s a cousin, his dad was the black sheep. So they complied.”
“Why did they strip him?” Dani asks.
“Less chance of identification if the body was ever found,” I answer. “And Beau Asher probably wanted to humiliate the man in death.”
“Sounds about right. And decades later,” Jaymee runs her soft fingers through my hair again, sending a beautiful sensation across my scalp, “you figured it out and thought you could talk to Jeb about it.”
“I’ve dealt with real villains. Jeb isn’t one. I figured…if he could tell me honestly that Beau was the ringleader, we’d expose the story with Jeb as an anonymous source. If he got sucked in, and he and maybe even Matt were willing to testify against Asher, we could keep Jeb out of jail.”
“But he never gave you the chance.”
“And now here we are.”
“Something’s been bugging me,” Dani says. “How did your shoe end up in the creek?”
“It cuts across Jeb’s property. He parked in the garage, and I tried to make a run for it. I was half drugged and dealing with broken ribs. He caught me in the creek. I don’t think either one of us realized I’d lost my shoe until we were down here.”
Footsteps above tell me Jeb is still here. “He’s probably gathering a few things,” Dani says trying to convince herself. I have faith in Cage too. But I don’t have any hope for the man rattling around above us. His common sense has evaporated.
“Isn’t moving too quickly,” Jaymee says. “You’d think he would if he planned on running.”
“This place has ovens.” I say the words without thinking. The thought has besieged me since I realized where I was. Burning alive. I’m sure that would be second in horror only to being buried alive. Either seems like an option right now.
Jaymee gasps, but Dani, eyes still impossibly wide, shakes her head, stone-faced and resolute. “He’s not that guy. I’m telling you.”
Something in the other room groans and rumbles. I’ve heard the sound a few times over the last few days, and every time panic nips at me. It’s not the normal sound of a house settling or water rushing through old pipes. It’s bigger, louder. Something trying to get free or worse—break through.
“What’s that?” Dani’s words are coated in dread. She’s twisting her neck, trying to get a view of the nothingness we’re in, and I’m pretty sure she’s more freaked out about where we’re trapped than the fact that we actually are.
“Probably a ghost.” Jaymee grins, but I can tell she’s serious. “We’re in a funeral home.”
“So what?” Dani says. “Why do people always think funeral homes and cemeteries are haunted? You’d think a spirit would linger where the life actually ends, not where their body goes to be tortured for burial.”
“Because they’re creepy as hell. Those steel tables and that drain. You know what goes down that drain, right? And this place is old, so the septic system is probably full of hazardous chemicals and shit. The air is probably putrid.”
“Jeb’s not sick.”
“He is in the head,” Jaymee snaps. “I can’t believe you’re defending him.”
“I’m not. If you would just—”
The rumbling comes again, louder. This time, it’s more than sound. The floor actually shakes.
“Does Mississippi have earthquakes?” Dani whispers as though anything louder would make the shaking worse.
“It’s happened before, decades ago,” Jaymee says. “There’s a fault line—the Madrid something. I think scientists thought it would have a big quake in the 90s, but nothing ever happened.”
“This isn’t an earthquake.” The words barely escape my mouth before a powerful rumble tears through the basement, followed by the sound of something heavy breaking, falling, and cracking. The girls scream. Another heavy drop, the harsh bang of steel against steel, and then a scraping noise, as if the metal tables were being dragged.
“What the hell?” Dani’s on her knees at the door, shining the little flashlight into the small crack between the pressed wood and concrete. Her breath comes in rasps, nearly louder than the splintering noises. Her right hand clutches her keys like they’re a life source. “Oh my God. The floor’s collapsed—like a sinkhole. And there’s water. Water coming into the basement!”
38
Fear has a way of making a rational person crazy. For a moment, I think that’s what’s going to happen to Dani, that she’s going to completely lose it at the prospect of drowning in what are essentially human remains. One glance at Jaymee tells me she’s still processing. She turns her head to stare at me, lines of confusion across her forehead.
“We’ve got to get out.”
The words barely slip out of my mouth, and Dani is on her feet, the light rising with her. Her voice is soprano-high and off key, screaming at Jeb. But her words are very clear.
“Jeb! The basement’s collapsing! We’re going to drown. You have to let us out.”
Jaymee stands too and begins pounding on the door, the booms in sync with Dani’s cries. I take Jaymee’s hand and try to pull myself up. My ribs argue by jamming themselves into my lungs. My legs, cramped from being in one position for so long, stagger and nearly collapse. Jaymee steadies me, pulling my arms until I’m on my feet, leaning against the wall and making a feeble attempt to bang on it. Every breath hurts so much I think I can’t take another. I’m pretty sure a rib has punctured a lung.
Beyond the locked door, the cracking starts and stops, accompani
ed by a gentle sound that absolutely terrifies me: trickling, gurgling water. Rank water, contaminated with chemicals and body fluid, is rising and bringing with it the foulest smell I’ve ever encountered.
“Holy God.” Jaymee sticks her face in her elbow, one hand still on my arm, the other slamming the wall in a rhythm that’s gaining speed.
Dani is screaming the same words over and over again, coughing and half-choking, her mini light jerking with every heave of her body. The movement creates a trick of light that makes me dizzy.
Another crack, this one as loud as a detonated bomb. It’s followed by a much faster rush of water. Somewhere in the embalming room, metal groans, presumably succumbing to the power of the water. A shattering immediately follows.
“The porcelain sink,” Dani says. “Be careful when we get out of here. Don’t cut yourselves.”
“We’re not getting out unless Jeb gets his ass down here!” Jaymee is screaming now.
My sock is wet.
“Oh God, oh god.” Dani is thrashing. I’m sure images of what’s in the water are assaulting her just as they are me.
Jaymee bangs again on the wall.
Now the water’s at my calf.
“I’m coming.” The new voice is a blessed sound, although Jeb’s clearly as scared as we are. “I’ve just got to figure out how. The whole floor is going.”
“Get something to hold on to,” Dani yells. “Something to keep yourself from going down.”
“I’ve got a rope. It’s tied to the banister. Hope it holds.”
Something hard and cool touches my leg. Images of scalpels and saw blades rush me. Grabbing Dani’s wrist, I angle her light toward the rising water. It’s dirt brown, slivers of bark and concrete and other debris I don’t want to imagine floating in it. Something hard, white, and glowing is caught against my pants.
“It’s a chunk of porcelain from that sink,” Dani says. “Hope to God none of us have any open sores.”
“We get out of this,” Jaymee says, “I’m taking a swim in the tetanus vaccine. And anything else I can think of.”
There’s a thud against the door, then a grunt. “I’m here.” Jeb’s out of breath.
The key clicks into the lock and then the door swings open. Water rushes in and knocks all three of us back. Pain shoots through my chest as Jaymee lands against me and Dani bounces off my shoulder. They both grab me before I lose my footing and end up fully submerged in the water, which is now waist deep. It’s surprisingly cold. Chill bumps erupt across my skin.
In the gleam of his flashlight, Jeb looks scared shitless. Blood trickles from a fresh cut on his forehead. He’s out of breath and sweating, a shock of white hair sticking to his pasty forehead. “Listen. Keep to your left. There’s only a couple of feet of floor left. Hang on to the handles of the body lockers.”
Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. “Sorry. Smacked my head against the wall when the second part of the floor busted.”
He’s teetering, and I wonder if he’s got a concussion. Water pushes him into the closet with us, and Dani catches him. “Jaymee, get Nick upstairs. I’ll handle Jeb.”
“Not a chance. We’re all going together.”
Dani doesn’t argue. Wrapping her arm around Jeb and clutching the rope, she takes control, leading him out of the closet.
“I’m too heavy,” he says. “You all go on. I’ll manage.”
“I’m not leaving anyone.” Dani presses ahead. The water is rising fast, and the tips of her long blond hair are wet. Trying not to make Jaymee carry all of my weight, I sludge forward. My ribs hurt so much I’m afraid I’ll pass out soon.
We’re moving against a powerful current, pressed against the steel lockers that once housed death. I cling to the handles as Jeb instructed. Jaymee’s wet hand is shaking in mine, and I wish I were strong enough to pull her close, carry her out of here.
Not far now. Although it’s covered in water, I see the stairway, with the blessed light from the ground floor beckoning us. Suddenly, Jeb slumps against the lockers. The water’s at his chin and the blood seeping from his forehead is mixing in with the brown water, creating a nauseating color. He’s gasping for air.
“My chest is tight.” Jeb is breathing hard. “Vision keeps blurring. Y’all go ahead.”
Dani shakes her head. “Get upstairs, Jaymee. Your phone’s in the truck, remember? Call 911. We’ll be up.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“We will be fine.” Dani looks terrified, but she’s tougher than I’ve given her credit for. Her eyes are solid determination. “Nick is already injured. Get him out of this filth. I’ll be right behind you.”
Jaymee’s face puckers, and I know she’s trying not to cry. Pulling me past Dani and Jeb, she tugs at the other woman’s hair. When she speaks, her voice is raw. “I’ll get him outside, and then I’m coming right back.”
“We’ll be up by then.”
I slip my arm around Jaymee’s waist as the water reaches dangerously close to her mouth. She can’t swallow this shit. My ribs screaming in protest, I hook my arm around her waist and lift her up. The water is about to overwhelm us, and I won’t be able to handle myself much longer. “We’ve got to go.”
On the other side of the dark room, near the supply closet where I’d just spent my last few days, another sickening crack. The hanging cabinets and the wall they’re attached to suddenly quiver and begin to sink.
“Move, honey.”
Pushing against the weight of the water, Jaymee using her arm to keep us steady, we’ve nearly reached the stairs. I give her a hard shove, surely making another hole in my lung, and she lunges for the unseen banister. For a moment, she floats, white hands stretching out for nothing, and I swear my heart nearly crawls out of my throat. And then she’s got the railing and is pulling me toward her.
My toes slam against something solid, and I realize it’s the stairs. We start moving up, holding onto the wooden railings like lifelines. Jaymee’s in the lead, and she glances back.
Her face is wet and already pale, hair plastered to her head so the auburn looks black. It’s only the terror in her eyes that clues me in to something terrible behind me.
“Dani!” Jaymee’s scream pierces my ears, and I whip my head around expecting to see another wall collapsing. Instead I see nothing but water.
Jeb and Dani are gone.
Jaymee’s scream is worse than anything I’ve ever heard. I’m trying to hold her back, but she’s stronger than I am right now.
“Let me go.” My fingers slip on her wet skin. “I’ll get them.”
“You’re not strong enough. Get upstairs!” She shoves me until my knees knock against the steps, and I start to crawl. She’s already in the water, swimming against the ever-rising surge.
I don’t even recognize the heavy footsteps, don’t understand that Cage and Gina Barnes and another officer are there until I see Cage’s face. He pulls me up into blessed dryness, and the other officer—I think Hendricks is stitched onto his uniform—begins to lead me away. I push against him, craning around to see both Cage and Gina going after Jaymee.
“It’s a sinkhole, and Dani and Jeb went under,” I choke out.
“We’ll get them,” Gina calls. “Hendricks, get him out before this house collapses.”
I really don’t want to leave, but Hendricks is a strong guy, and I’m at the end of my endurance. Next thing I know, I’m lying in the grass a good distance from the house, which is leaning at a horrific right angle, as if gravity were pulling it beneath the earth. A paramedic sticks an oxygen mask on my face. I don’t refuse.
Above, I can see blue sky. Birds fly by, ones I can’t name. That’s Jaymee’s thing.
Jesus Christ, she’s still inside, and the entire house is being sucked away. I try to sit up only to be pushed back down again.
I’ve been in this position before—helplessly waiting to see if she’s dead or alive. But Cage and I were together then, rushing down a dirt road, fighting against a hum
an enemy. There’s no way to fight Mother Nature. She is a cruel bitch if she chooses to be.
Shouts strike the air, and a second paramedic rushes by.
Cage is running out of the house, carrying an unconscious Dani. Her head and arms hang limply, like the rag dolls Jaymee collects and likes to hide from me. The paramedic meets Cage, and they deposit Dani on the ground. CPR starts.
Where is Jaymee?
The house visibly shakes and moves down another foot, maybe more. Someone screams.
I can’t breathe.
Where is Jaymee?
Air rushes back into my lungs. I see her. She and Gina are bringing a very weak-looking Jeb out of the house, walking precariously on the porch that’s now slanted upward, like some kind of pathway to the sky.
Hendricks takes over for Jaymee, and she rushes toward me. A long second later, her lips are on mine, her hands wet and cold and beautiful.
“I love you,” she’s saying over and over. I think I say it back.
To our right is a strangled cry. It’s Cage. He’s holding Dani, lifting her off the ground. She’s still limp. Jaymee stills. I can’t breathe again.
And then Dani’s arms slowly lift and circle Cage’s shoulders.
Jaymee starts to cry. I suck in a breath of spring air. Still safe in Cage’s arms, Dani twists her head until her gaze finds us. She smiles and then sticks her tongue out at Jaymee.
Now Jaymee is laughing through her tears, and I lay back against the grass. The sky is a brilliant blue—the brightest I’ve seen. A few wispy clouds stretch here and there, but they only add to the day’s beauty. A second pair of birds fly ahead, squawking at each other. They disappear into the trees, still arguing.
All around me is chaos, people shouting as the house continues to sink. The sound of Jeb’s bawling. Cage shouting at him, and Dani trying to get him to stop.
I lay still, gazing up at the blue sky.
39
“You’re going to screw up the steaks.” Nick couldn’t help but hover over his former brother-in-law. “The secret is to flip them only once, you know. Otherwise that messes up the flavor.”