crunched under its tires. She blasted the horn.
Nora and Janice jumped out while she set the emergency brake. They were pounding the bus’s door when she reached them.
“Wha’s all this?”
Tyler spun around. Captain Frank’s white-bearded face was at an open window halfway to the back of the bus. “It’s just us,” she said. “Tyler and Nora. We talked at the bar last night, remember? We need your help.”
“Did I hear guns?” he asked. He sounded groggy.
“They’re after the beast. Your Bobo. We want to help. Have you got guns?”
“Goin’ after Bobo?”
“Hurry. You can come along if you want.”
“Uhhh.” His face left the window. A light came on inside the bus, illuminating its brightly colored panes. A few seconds later, the door wheezed open.
“My Lord, is that you, Janice Crogan?”
“It’s me,” she said.
“Figured Bobo got you.”
“It did.”
“We’ve got to hurry,” Tyler said, stepping close to the door.
Captain Frank wore striped boxer shorts, and nothing else. His torso was matted with white hair. “Grab some clothes,” Tyler said, “and show us where you keep your guns.”
“Aye. Come on aboard, mateys.”
With the policeman’s revolver clenched in his sweaty hand, Gorman followed Abe and Jack down the stairs to the cellar. He kept his other hand on the railing as he descended. Except for the bright path cast by the flashlight, all was black.
The risers creaked under their feet.
The dirt floor of the cellar below looked gray in the pale beam. Then the light swept from corner to corner. Shadows quivered and died as the light circled.
“There’s your hole,” Abe whispered. He settled the beam on a patch of darkness near a pile of bushel baskets.
Gorman tried to speak. A choked sound came out. He cleared his throat and asked, “Did you get pictures?”
“Sure,” Jack said. “Then we heard Janice.”
In silence, Gorman followed them down to the cellar floor. They stood in a cluster at the foot of the stairs. Abe swung the light toward a wall beside the staircase. It stopped at a large steamer trunk. “That’s their door,” he said. Gorman noticed a short hank of rope nailed to a side of the trunk—apparently a handle for pulling it back against the wall.
The beam edged sideways. It lighted the tunnel entrance.
And the beast.
“Glad it didn’t walk away,” Jack whispered.
They stepped closer.
The creature lay face down, just inside the tunnel, its shiny flesh so white it almost seemed to glow. Its back was splattered with gore. Gorman quickly looked away from the remains of its head.
“We didn’t get any pictures of it,” Jack told him.
Gorman took a deep breath. “Would you mind rolling it over?”
“We’ve got a job to do,” Abe said. “You can stay here if you want.” He stepped over one of the outstretched arms and moved deeper into the tunnel.
“Wait. You can’t leave me here.”
“Then come along,” Jack said, and went in after Abe.
The light faded to a dim glow as Abe disappeared around a bend. In another moment, Gorman would be left in darkness. Gritting his teeth, he started to edge past the beast. He stared at it, half expecting a clawed hand to dart for his ankle. Then the light was gone. He couldn’t see the beast at all. Something nudged his shoe. With a yelp, he sprang away.
He rushed forward, bumped a moist wall, and felt his way along its turn until he spotted broken light ahead and the hurrying shapes of Jack and Abe.
“Wait for me!” he cried out.
Jack turned around. “Quiet, damn it!”
Gorman quickly joined the two men. He stayed close to Jack. He couldn’t free his mind from the beast at the tunnel’s entrance. It must be dead. But had it stirred in the darkness, one of its sprawled legs knocking against his shoe? No, he must have simply kicked it in passing. It must be dead:
But what if it’s not?
What if it’s coming?
Ridiculous.
And yet, he could sense it creeping closer.
He stepped on the back of Jack’s shoe.
“Damn it, watch where you’re going.”
“Would you mind if I walk between you two?”
“Shit. Suit yourself. Step on Abe for a while.”
“Would you guys knock it off?” Abe whispered.
Jack pressed himself against a wall of the tunnel. Gorman moved past him. With the sound of Jack’s footsteps behind him, he immediately felt better. But his heart continued to pound wildly. His mouth was dry and he felt vaguely nauseated. His legs trembled.
He wished he hadn’t come along with these men. He wished he had stayed at the inn, out of harm’s way.
Thinking of the inn reminded him of Janice.
So the girl wasn’t dead. That was a blow. Apparently, at least, she had no suspicion that he’d murdered her parents. Thank God for that.
She would present a problem, however, even with the contracts destroyed. If she took the matter to court… Of course, he might resolve the situation by giving her the agreed-upon amount.
Half of everything.
If
How many deaths? Four tonight. Three last night. Janice’s imprisonment (I’ll have to interview her about that), two captives in the Kutch house for God only knows how long. And the biggest bonus of all, the corpse of the beast.
National media coverage.
And me, Gorman Hardy, in the center of it all.
The potential was staggering.
Turning over half to Janice would be an outrage. If only the beast had killed her.
Without doubt, it had raped her.
And both her parents were killed.
Nobody would consider it unusual if a girl in such circumstances committed suicide.
He could hardly risk faking suicides for both Janice
There were other ways to handle Captain Frank.
Suicide was perfect for Janice. But what method? A girl would certainly be unlikely to blow out her brains. Slashing her wrists was out of the question: it would raise eyebrows if she died in the same manner as Brian’s wife. An overdose? Perhaps. That might be difficult to arrange, but…
Following Abe around a bend in the tunnel, he saw a blue glow ahead. Abe switched off the flashlight. The glow, Gorman realized, must be coming from the cellar of the Kutch house. An icy tightness clutched his stomach.
