He hurried across the hall to his room. The notebook in the plastic bag was in the side of the duffel bag where he’d stuffed it after showing it to Casey. He pulled it out and rushed down the dim hallway.
At the top of the stairs, he looked down to see a half-dozen deputies scurrying around. The marshal walked back into Anna’s office. For a moment, Finn hesitated. He didn’t like leaving Casey alone, worried that she would wake up and be frightened. But he had to know what was going on—and give the marshal what he’d found. He hurried down the stairs and headed for the office behind the desk. The marshal had left the door open.
“What’s going on?” For a moment, he thought the marshal wasn’t going to answer him.
“Weren’t you asked to stay in your room?” the lawman snapped.
“What’s happened?” Finn stepped into the room, determined not to leave until he had an answer. “I own this hotel now. If you’ve found something...”
The marshal nodded with a mumbled curse. “My deputies just found what appear to be old graves in the basement.”
“Graves?” He was thinking the hotel had been built on an old cemetery when the marshal clarified.
“Someone has been burying bodies in the basement. Apparently for years.”
Finn felt that bump in his bloodstream. “The missing young women.”
“I beg your pardon?” the marshal said, looking at him with sudden mistrust.
“I spent months in this hotel, and during that time, I read all of the old journals that Casey’s grandmother kept. Every few years, a young woman either who had been staying in the hotel or working here disappeared and was never found. I was going to bring the information to you, along with anything I’d learned about Megan’s death.” He thrust the bag toward the marshal. “I found this hidden under the stairs to the tower. There’s a page in it you might want to read. I think you might be looking for a serial killer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LEROY HAD TWO fresh murders and counting. Patience Riley was missing. Maybe she’d left. Or maybe she hadn’t and they had yet to discover her body. He had more deputies coming from the next town to the west. The crime team had arrived and was processing the scene in the basement. He had deputies making sure no one left the hotel or ventured down to the wine cellar. He’d secured the crime scene as much as he could.
He’d told himself that he had control of the situation, and now Finnegan James had walked in and told him he might be looking for a serial killer?
He could see that the man wasn’t going to leave until he looked at the notebook. It almost amused him that it had been put in a plastic bag like evidence. People watched too many crime shows.
It took him a moment. Most of the pages were blank. When he did find it, he was struck by the handwriting. There was something about it that set his teeth on edge even before he began to read. Halfway through, he dropped into the office chair.
By the end, he looked up at Finn. He wanted to argue that anyone could have written this. But he had a basement with God only knew how many bodies in it. The skull he’d seen was smaller than a man’s, so he suspected it was that of a young woman.
There was no way he couldn’t take this seriously. He started to thank Finnegan for bringing this to him and to order him back to his room when Deputy Hepner appeared in the doorway behind the man. Leroy didn’t need any more bad news right now.
But when he saw Hepner’s face, he knew that whatever it was, it was much worse than anything else that had been discovered tonight. That was the thing about Hepner: every emotion showed on that face. Right now it was bleached white. He’d seen the man’s reaction when they found the graves. Hepner had been stoic, calm, contained. Now the deputy looked terrified.
Leroy felt his heart drop to his feet. “Thank you for this information,” he said to Finnegan. “Now, I would appreciate it if you would go back to your room.”
The man seemed to hesitate but then stepped past Hepner and out into the lobby. Leroy motioned the deputy in. He could tell that Finnegan was even more curious about what was going on.
Hepner closed the door behind him. “You need to come down to the basement. I found...”
Leroy shot him an impatient look.
The deputy swallowed and whispered in a hoarse voice, “Bombs.”
The word was so out of place in the situation that it didn’t make any sense for a moment. Not a bomb but bombs.
Hepner was green but smart. Still, Leroy doubted the kid had ever seen a bomb except in the movies.
“Show me.” He rose to his feet, and they left the office. In the lobby, he didn’t see Finnegan. Nor was he on the stairs. He didn’t have time to worry about him, however, as he followed the deputy down the hall to the doorway to the basement and then into the dark underbelly of the hotel.
At the wine-cellar entrance, Hepner drew him down one of the series of tunnels that handled the utilities. A series of corroded piles and conduits ran along the ceiling. Leroy had to bend down in spots to keep from bumping his head as he followed the younger man deeper and deeper under one of the wings, the smell becoming more dank and stagnant and...grave-like.
“The bombs are all along the outside walls,” Hepner said, his voice cracking, as he stopped to shine his flashlight on the first one he’d found.
Leroy stared at the dynamite for only a second before he turned to Hepner. “You say there are more of these?”
The deputy nodded. “All along the outside walls of the
