Dead Case in Deadwood (45 page)

"Violet," my name came out as a sob this time. "Please
don’t leave me here like this. He’s going to come back and cut me."

If we were talking castration, bring on the buttered popcorn
and soda pop.

At the door, I hesitated. Damn it. Natalie needed me,
possibly more than this asshole. But no matter how much the part of me that had
taken Ray’s shit for months wanted to walk away and not look back, I couldn’t
leave him tied to the autopsy table.

As I turned to free him, I heard voices on the other side of
the door.

"Someone’s coming," I mouthed and rushed to the tall
pantry-like cupboards on the far wall where I’d seen Eddie hang his lab apron
the last time I was here.

"Wait!" Ray whispered.

"Shhhh." I pulled the gun from my pants and showed
it to him. "I won’t let them hurt you."

That was big talk for someone who had trouble stepping on
spiders.

I climbed into the cupboard, grimacing at the chemical odor
coming from Eddie’s coats, and pulled the door partly closed behind me. Better
chemicals than something red and chunky, I told myself.

I heard the Autopsy room doors creak and swoosh shut.
Through the cupboard opening, I watched the albino approach the table full of
tools next to Ray, George followed, nipping at his heels.

Ray lay strapped down between them and me, his eyes darting
back and forth between us. The idiot was going to get me caught if he didn’t
knock it off. I held the gun raised and ready. Sweat trickled down my spine.

"Tell me where you hid the girl or I’ll kill this one,"
the albino said, his back to me now, blocking my line of sight to George.

"I told you there will be no killing tonight. We can
clean this up without bloodshed."

"You’re a fool if you believe that. This one has looked
in the crate one too many times. The woman should have left with her friend."

He must mean me. Goosebumps peppered my arms at the thought
of him watching without my knowing it. George must have lied about me leaving
to save me from joining Natalie.

"Both need to be disposed of," the albino
continued, "before someone comes looking for them." He picked up the
largest scalpel and leaned toward Ray’s face.

Ray screamed like a woman.

I winced at the piercing level, blinking at the realization
that all of this time I’d been hearing him screaming for help, not Natalie.
Where was she then? Where had George tucked her away?

The albino stuffed the rag back in Ray’s mouth, his bulging
eyes narrowed. "Someone took off your muffle." He placed the scalpel tip
at the upper corner of Ray’s eye socket.

I gripped the gun harder, gearing up to leap out of the
cupboard and start shooting. I prayed I didn’t trip.

"Tell me who," he said to Ray, "or I’ll
remove your eyeball and feed it to you."

"No!" George shouted and shoved the autopsy table with
Ray on it away from the albino and his scalpel.

The table skidded sideways, and I saw the wheels on it for
the first time. One of the wheels stayed locked straight and caught on a floor
drain, spilling the whole cart on its side with Ray still strapped on tight.
His weight created enough momentum to pull the table upside down on top of him.
With his cheek pressed against the cement floor, he stared at me, his eyes wide
and brimmed with terror.

"Enough of you," the albino raged at George.

I looked up from Ray at the same time the tall man lunged at
George. The albino’s arms pulled back with what appeared to be long shiny
blades in each hand, his huge body blocking most of George from my view.

There was a metallic clang, and then a thump.

Pushing the cupboard door open further, I leaned out to see
what was happening. The albino moved sideways just then, giving me a full-on
view of George’s body as it crumpled to the floor, his neck sliced clean, his
head no longer in place.

Covering my mouth, I gasped inwardly.
Oh, my God! Oh, my
God! Oh, my God!

"Stupid little mouse." The albino walked around
the top of the overturned autopsy table, his swords no longer in his hands, and
squatted in front of Ray with his back to me. "I’ve grown tired of your
screaming."

I couldn’t take my eyes off of where George had stood just
seconds before, my brain replaying the scene again and again. Then, from
somewhere deep within my core, a cold wave of clarity splashed over me.

I shoved open the cupboard door, Cooper’s gun leveled out in
front of me. "Freeze, asshole!" I said.

The albino’s head turned slowly, like he’d been expecting me
to pop out of the cupboard at any time. His sneer scrunched his whole face,
making him look like a huge gargoyle squatting there, ready to pounce.

"What have we here?" he said in a calm, quiet
voice.

"Get the fuck away from him," I said, the gun
aimed at the center of the albino’s head.

He stood with slow deliberation that oozed of confidence. He
snorted at the gun in my hand. "What are you going to do?"

I stared down the barrel at him, wondering that myself.

He challenged me with a cock of his head. "Shoot me?"

"Maybe."

His laughter resonated so deep that it made my ears ache.
How did he do that? He took a step toward me. "I’ve grown to like pain
over time."

I eased toward the door. "Don’t move."

"I like it a lot." Another step in my direction.
His lips curled back from his teeth, which all seemed longer than normal, his
gums almost gray.

I moved faster toward the exit. "One more step and I
swear I’ll shoot."

"I especially like delivering my kind of pain." He
pulled out a long, shiny hook that looked like it was wrapped with barbed wire
from his inner suit coat pocket.

That was enough inspiration for me. I aimed at his thigh and
pulled the trigger.

The boom was deafening in the stainless steel-filled room. A
searing hot casing bounced off my wrist and clinked onto the floor. The smell
of gun smoke surrounded me.

His sinister laughter throbbed deep in my ears, making me cringe.
With only a slight pause, he took another step toward me, his eyes gleaming so
bright they seemed to glow.

I raised the gun, aiming at his gut and pulled the trigger
again. Boom!

He jolted as if from the force of the blow, but kept coming.

Was I shooting blanks?

My back was now against the door. "Stop or I’ll aim for
the heart."

He tipped his head back and roared at the ceiling, a
guttural roar that made my knees shake.

I pulled the trigger, jerking at the last minute and grazing
the top of his shoulder. Damn it! I adjusted, breathed through my nose like I’d
been taught by my dad long ago, and shot again, twice, nailing him square in
the chest. I was sure of it.

Stopping finally, he tugged his jacket aside and stuck his
pinkie in a bullet hole just below the left side of his collarbone. When he pulled
his finger out, blood smeared the tip. He raised his eyes to mine, his pupils
morphing into snake-like slits.

What the fuck?

"That’s enough playing, wench," he said, snarling.
"Now it’s my—"

I didn’t give him time to finish that threat. I shoved out
through the door behind me and sprinted for the stairs like the devil was grasping
at my tail. Halfway there, I realized I should have headed straight out the
back doors instead. Shit!

A crash thundered behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. The
albino stalked after me, his face brimming with mad glee. Here came the big bad
wolf.

I reached the doorway to the stair, looking back again as I
skidded around the stairwell opening, and slammed into someone’s chest,
bouncing off. I stumbled.

"Violet," Doc said, catching me before I fell. His
eyes widened at the sight of the gun in my hand. "Are you … ?" Then
he must have heard the albino’s footfalls. He glanced over his shoulder, his
eyelids narrowing. "Give me the gun, Violet."

"Bullets don’t work," I said, but I shoved the
butt of it at him, anyway.

"Get out of here," he said, gripping Cooper’s gun.

"No, Doc—"

"Go! You have kids." He shoved me away and faced the
albino.

I couldn’t get around him to the stair, so I ran toward the
antique-filled room, thinking of that window.

Gunshots rang out, so many, so fast that I couldn’t count
them. I shoved into the room and leapt over a stack of plexi-glass cases, the
window in my sights.

A loud thump came from the other side of the wall, rattling
the big scissors hanging there.

Doc?
I stopped below the window, the bright orange
glow beyond beckoning.

No.

I turned back toward the doorway. I’d seen what the albino
could do with the swords hidden in his coat sleeves. George was dead. There was
no way I was losing Doc to that pale-faced freaky-ass murderer.

Grabbing the big scissors off the wall, I raced back to the
door in time to watch Doc fly past backward, crashing into the door across the
hall.

Doc!

He slid to the floor, groaning, his eyes rolling back as his
body followed suit.

I stepped back from view as the albino stalked past, his
focus on Doc who lay on the floor out cold.

The albino bent over Doc. "Silly humans," I heard
him mutter and he pulled his arms back, spreading them wide, like he had right before
he decapitated George.

No!

I rushed at him, the scissors open and held out like dual
swords in front of me. With a grunt, I buried the sharp blades into his back. My
momentum rammed him forward into the doorjamb. I bounced off of him and spun away,
crashing into the wall next to George’s office door.

The albino bellowed, a deep grating, unearthly sound. I covered
my ears, screaming, too.

Pushing to my feet, I edged toward the stairs. I knew that at
any moment, he’d somehow yank those blades out and come for me.

He fell to his knees, frantically reaching for the blades. His
body shook so hard that his bulbous features distorted, lengthening.

I thought I saw a snout, then a horn, then a beak, then a
nose again. Everything on him blended and blurred. My breath locked in my lungs.
I pressed back against the wall, unable to make sense of what I was seeing.

In a blink, he stilled and glared up at me with those snake-slit
eyes. His upper lip curled. "
You
again."

Me, again?

What the hell did that mean?

Before I could do more than squeak like a cornered rat, the albino’s
skin caught on fire, just as Wolfgang’s had in my nightmare.

No, no, no, no
… not again. A whiff of burning hair
and skin made me cough and retch.

A bright flash of white light burst from his skin, blinding
me, followed by a searing blast of heat. I cried out, shielding my face.

Then the fireworks show came to an abrupt end. In the
silence, something clattered onto the floor.

When I dropped my arm, the albino was gone, a haze of smoke
the only evidence of what I’d witnessed. Left alone with my panting breaths, I
fell back against the doorjamb. My eyes burned like I’d stared into the sun for
too long.

I looked at the floor, expecting to see ashes, burnt pieces
of clothing, some trace of the fire. Instead, the huge pair of scissors I’d
planted in the albino’s back lay there, shiny and sharp, blood-free.

How? What? Where did he … ?

A hand clamped down on my shoulder.

I shrieked. Tugging free of the grasp, I sprinted for the
stairwell.

"Violet!" Cooper’s voice stopped me at the foot of
the stairs. He sounded nasally, like his nose was stuffed up.

I turned back. The detective stood next to where Doc lay.

"Come back here," he ordered.

I took a couple of steps toward him, obeying without
thinking, and then I noticed how beat up his face looked and hesitated. His
nose was swollen now in addition to being crooked. Blood smeared his upper lip.
His eyes were already turning black and blue.

Oh, man, I’d done a number on him. He was going to go all Terminator
on my ass if I got too near him.

"Come closer," he said.

"I don’t want to."

"Why not?"

"Because you’re going to hurt me."

"As tempting as that might be right now, I won’t. I
promise."

I took a couple of steps closer, but stopped still out of
reach.

"Where’s my gun?" he asked.

I pointed at the floor next to Doc’s hand.

Cooper picked it up, scowling. "It’s missing the
bullets."

"I needed to borrow a few."

His gunslinger glare made me pull back, glancing at the steps—my
getaway route. "Do you happen to remember where you left them?"

That took a moment of thought. Things had gone a bit nutzo
after Ray started with his girlie screams. Heck, I still wasn’t even sure if
the snake-eyed albino had disappeared for good, or if he’d used the old smoke
and mirrors trick to hide somewhere and planned to grab me as I passed.

"Surely you remember firing my gun."

My glare mimicked his. "Of course I remember." I
looked to my right, down the long hallway. "I used five in the Autopsy
room." The casings were on the floor somewhere.

"What about the rest?"

"I think Doc used them."

"You think? Where were you when he was shooting them?
In the bathroom standing on the seat again?"

I realized that Cooper probably had a not-so-nice headache
thanks to the back of my skull, but his snarky comment dug into me like a pointy
pair of spurs. I strode over to him. "I’m sorry I wasn’t taking detailed
notes, Detective, but I was a little busy running for my damned life. Where in
the hell were you when your gun was being shot? Oh, that’s right, passed out."

He jutted his chin "Knocked out."

"You shouldn’t have scared the shit out of me like
that."