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Authors: Heather Graham

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BOOK: Krewe of Hunters The Unholy
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Logan was his height, and they were both taller than Kelsey, who was still a good five-ten. Logan, however, wasn’t about to give him a welcoming hug.

“Yeah, more or less,” Sean said. “Can we come in?”

“We?” Logan asked.

“Yes,” he said, pulling Madison forward. “This is Madison Darvil. She’s doing the job I used to have at the special-effects studio. Eddie Archer thought she’d be the right person to show me around so I’d know what’s still the same and what’s changed over the years. There’s an empty house across from hers, and we have reason to believe someone was watching her from the shrubbery tonight. I couldn’t completely check it out. I figured we’d have the cops do it tomorrow. Whoever was there is gone. Madison, this is Kelsey O’Brien, Logan Raintree and, back there—behind Logan, the little blue-eyed blonde—is Katya Sokolov or Kat, as we call her. Dr. Kat, if you will. The guy in the cowboy hat is Tyler Montague, ex-Ranger, and rounding out our team is Jane Everett, over by Tyler.”

A chorus of “Hi, Madison,” sounded. Madison waved a hand and said hello in greeting. She was trying to act cool and dignified; she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a massive semi.

“I see you have a suitcase,” Logan said.

“That’s good. You shouldn’t stay at your own place now,” Kelsey told her.

“Yes, definitely, if you were threatened in any way, you need to keep close to us, for the time being at least,” Logan agreed.

“Thank you,” Madison said.

Sean cleared his throat. “I forgot to tell you that as well as being a special-effects wizard and a friend to Eddie and Alistair, she’s a great deal like us. She speaks with ghosts. She actually has a close relationship with one in particular, who spends a lot of time with her.”

“Oh?” Logan still looked severe. He tended to be mistrustful of others who claimed to be mediums or capable of “reaching the other side.” They were all careful with whom they spoke, and careful of what they said. Despite rumors that they were the “ghost busters” of the FBI.

Madison nodded, looking no less mistrustfully at the crowd she’d just met.

She f sze=et.inally answered.

“Yes, sometimes I can speak with the dead. Not always.”

“Well, that would be the same of all of us,” Kelsey said, smiling. “Sometimes—most often, really—the dead are gone. And even when they stay, some don’t care to talk. But…you have a ghost who visits you?”

Sean flinched, not sure if the others would doubt the possibility of Bogie, or if they’d be awed and envious.

It was the latter.

After a few minutes of excited questions, things seemed to settle down. They moved into the central area between the two rooms, and were soon seated around the table.

Bogie had proven to be quite a help in many ways; here, he was an icebreaker.

And questions about him naturally segued into more serious conversation regarding the murder. Madison described the different personalities involved with the studio and Eddie Archer’s life, and Sean put forth his theory that it wasn’t a random murder, but one that had been carefully thought out—and thought out to hurt Eddie Archer by making Alistair appear guilty.

Logan asked them gravely if they believed there was any possibility that Alistair had committed the murder.

Madison said no—even the victim had told them that. And she seemed gratified when Logan accepted her words without ridicule.

Sean informed them that the clock in the security footage had lost time, while the recording itself had not. “Two minutes. Two minutes are missing from the clock,” he said.

“Not a lot of time,” Kelsey remarked. “And that isn’t when the murder occurred. It’s before the murder.”

“So what does it mean? Think about it. Say you’re underwater, holding your breath. Two minutes can be very long. And if you’ve plotted something out, two minutes might be all that’s needed,” Sean said.

“What do you think, Madison? You know the studio. What could you do with two minutes?” Logan asked.

“Well…the costume was on the mannequin, and I know that Knox believes we’ll find it. The evil priest, Amun Mopat—who could wake the dead and make the mummy rise—came down from the tableau and killed Jenny. According to Alistair. So, if someone had been dressed as the priest and was waiting somewhere in the studio, it’s possible that this person—dressed as Amun Mopat—did it. And I sid had suppose you’d look more like Amun Mopat if you stole the robe. And if you could lose two minutes, you might have time to steal the costume you needed…. Could the video have been altered? Colin Bailey was out of the security area when he went to the Black Box with Alistair.”

“There is no video of what happened in the tunnel,” Sean said.

“Why?” Logan asked.

“There’s never been a camera down there, I guess because there’s a camera that catches anyone going into the Black Box Cinema, and there are several security cameras in the studio,” Madison explained. “The museum is more like Eddie’s private place. He loves it. And it isn’t open much of the time…. There are security cameras at the studio because people
do
try to get hold of movie images before the movies are released. Piracy is pretty lucrative. But as for the museum…it’s just tableaux.”

“I think there
was
a security camera down there at one time, but as Madison said, it wasn’t an area that anyone worried about,” Sean added.

“If there’s still an old camera—and if it was used—it probably wouldn’t have been active on a Sunday night, anyway. The cinema’s closed then. The cameras we do have aren’t there because we expect anyone to be murdered. They’re there to protect the studio. I assume it’s kind of general knowledge that the museum isn’t open on Sundays, because the Black Box Cinema isn’t open. And, I admit, you can’t discredit the police for their assumptions. To believe that Alistair didn’t do it is almost like believing the impossible. As Sean’s pointed out to me, you’d really have to be familiar with the studio and the cinema to carry off such a feat. Then, you’d have to know Alistair. And you’d have to know that Jenny was coming—and if you knew that, you’d realize she came to coerce Alistair into showing her the main studio.”

“But it
is
general knowledge that Alistair had a crush on Jenny, right?” Jane asked. “And that Jenny was an actress, that she could manipulate Alistair—and that Alistair often went to the Black Box by himself, on Sunday nights?”

Sean looked over at Jane, a slim, very pretty brunette. Of everyone on their team, he’d wondered if Jane would make it. She was an artist, although it was true that she’d worked with human skulls. And, of course, he’d been an artist of sorts himself. Surprisingly, perhaps, they’d all done well on their first assignment in Texas, considering that only three of them had come from a background in law enforcement. Jane had excelled at their courses at Quantico; she was a dead-on shot and would have made an excellent sniper.

“Yes, pretty general,” Madison was saying. “I mean, people joked about it at the studio. No one disliked Jenny that I know of,” she said. “And I don’t think anyone disliked Alistair. He’s a sweet kid without a chip on his shoulder at all. The jokes were the usual stuff, like how ‘whipped’ Alistair was. Some of the guy sme nlys can be jaded. Jenny was amusing to them, and watching Alistair’s reactions to her even more so.” She turned to Sean. “And the priest’s robe is gone. I
know
it was there, Sean.”

Sean nodded, smiling at her. “I watched the security footage. The mannequin gets pushed back, pretty innocently, I suspect—at first. Then, there’s the two-minute gap, the time discrepancy—that’s when you can no longer see the mannequin in the dressing room area. I have the tech man at the station, Fontini, doing whatever he can to figure it out, and I’m going to talk to Bailey again. He might be the guard, but he’s no tech wizard.”

“Yes, but he was there, wasn’t he?” Logan asked. “Except when he left the security station to go to the Black Box Cinema with Alistair. Have I got that right?”

Sean nodded.

“Okay, then,” Logan said decisively. “Tomorrow we’ll see the studio, and go to the morgue. Sean, you’ll try to find out how the security footage was changed…and by whom.”

“It’s not a difficult trick, not in Hollywood. I’m good, but the kid at the police station is better. Fontini is doing his best, but whoever did it knew what he—or she—was doing.”

“There’s just one more question I have to ask,” Logan said. “You’re
sure
—really convinced—that Alistair Archer didn’t kill Jenny? I know you ‘spoke’ with Jenny. Could she have been mistaken?”

“No,” Sean said. “There’s no discrepancy between her story and Alistair’s. Someone came down from that tableau dressed as the priest, Amun Mopat, killed Jenny and managed to disappear without a trace. What we have to figure out is the how, and if we get that far, we can begin to figure out the who.”

Madison bit her lip. “Sean’s right. Their stories were exactly the same.” She hesitated only a moment, surveying those around the table as if she couldn’t believe she was with an entire group who might believe her words. “Jenny was certain that Alistair is innocent. She said he was coming back, trying to help her, and that he shouted at the man. She doesn’t know who killed her. She does know that Alistair didn’t.”

“Then that’s that,” Logan said. He looked exhausted. “It’s about four in the morning for us, coming in from Virginia. Right now we need some sleep. We’ll get organized in the morning. Sean, take Katya and go to the morgue first thing. I’ll head down to the police station and get the team set up there and meet with Knox. And we’ll have the cops check out the vacant house across from Madison’s. We’ll gather at the studio around one. By late afternoon, Sean, the rest of us will go over the police notes, reinterview all the employees and scour the security logs for anyone else who’s been in the studio recently. That’ll leave you free to question those closest to the Archer family. Agreed?”

Nods went around the table. Kelsey stood. “Come on, Madison, we’ll put you across the hall in 302. Tyler is in 301, and Kat and Jane will take 303. This side is 304, 305 and 306. You’ll be safe here. I sincerely doubt this person is courageous enough—or foolish enough—to attack you between six FBI agents.”

Madison rose uncertainly. “I’m not putting anyone out—”

“We’ve got the whole floor,” Jane said.

Sean glanced at her, grateful for his team members. Jane and Kat had actually had their own rooms, but were quick to accept the new arrangements. They really were a team, a family.

“Well, then, thank you,” Madison said.

“I’ll take you over,” Kat told her, grabbing her bag.

As they left, Sean stood, Logan at his side.

“Eddie Archer is lucky he worked with you,” Logan commented.

Sean shook his head, a half smile curving his lips. “Eddie Archer is smart. He looked me up, looked up the team and figured he knew what he needed. He’s no fool. He knew, as well, that Madison has our talent. She’s a trusted employee, but he told me right away that she spoke with dead people.”

“Let’s hope that doesn’t put her in danger,” Logan said thoughtfully.

“It already has,” Sean muttered.

“Then we’d better solve this thing damned fast.”

Sean nodded, bade Logan and the others good-night and went through the connecting door to his own room. The police reports were where he’d left them. He collected them and stacked them neatly; Logan would need them in the morning.

He lay down to sleep.

Two minutes missing. Two minutes in which to hide a mannequin—and steal a robe.

That was as good as two days if you knew what you were doing.

And then, as he fell asleep, he stopped thinking about the killer.

Bec ssizabout the ause he was thinking about Madison.

He felt as if he’d known her forever. As if she’d been part of his life, part of his consciousness. But it had only been two days….

* * *

 

Vengeance no longer needed to watch. There was something wrong. The girl knew she was in danger.

That damned Sean Cameron. It should have gone so smoothly. The police had seen what was there to be seen, and now—

The phone rang. Luckily, Vengeance was alone.

Seeing the number on the caller ID screen of the phone, Vengeance cursed silently. “What?”

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be an idiot!”

“The investigation is getting serious. It was supposed to look like a locked-room mystery. Once Alistair was charged, that was supposed to be the end!”

“And it will continue to look that way.”

“No, no, the FBI is all over the place.”

“Even if they make discoveries, they’ll never know, they’ll never understand, they’ll never be able to trace the truth!”

She kept talking; she was panicking. Talk, talk, talk. Vengeance tried to be nicer, to be more reassuring.

“Just keep your story straight!” Vengeance warned.

She calmed down, and Vengeance reminded her again
not
to call.

“If I call you—that’s one thing. Don’t
you
call me.”

Finally, Vengeance was able to hang up.

But Vengeance grew thoughtful.

Vengeance’s partner was….

Dangerous.

Vengeance’s partner might have t s miiv heo meet with an accident.

* * *

 

“The M.E. is going to think we’re ghouls,” Madison whispered.

She’d come to the morgue again with Sean and Katya Sokolov, who’d been an M.E. in San Antonio before joining the Krewe.

They’d stopped at Madison’s bungalow to feed Ichabod—and bring Bogie with them.

While it seemed natural to Madison that the team’s only pathologist would want to view the body and the autopsy report, there was no ostensible reason for a civilian to be there a second time.

“Mortal remains, just mortal remains,” Bogie told her. He grinned at Katya. “Now, while you may be the one with the experience in a morgue, you might want to stop staring at me. They’ll think you’re not right in the head, you know?”

Kat flushed. “Sorry! I’m still so…overwhelmed. You can’t imagine what a fan I am.”

“Thank you.” Bogie looked at Madison. “Maybe that’s why I hang around. I need the adulation.”

“Shh,” Sean warned.

“I feel like a ghoul,” Madison whispered again.

“Trust me, you’re fine. You’re with me, and if anyone questions that, I’m asking you questions about the young woman as you knew her in life,” Kat said. “Not to worry.”

They were met then in reception by an attendant who escorted them back to a private autopsy room. Dr. Lee Chang was waiting there for them, standing silently behind the gurney that held the remains of the woman who had once been Jenny Henderson.

“Dr. Chang, thank you,” Sean said. “I’d like you to meet Dr. Katya Sokolov, who is with our team. She’d like to go over your report with you.”

“Of course. Dr. Sokolov, pleased to meet you,” Chang said, shaking Kat’s hand.

He offered her his clipboard. Kat came around the gurney, toward the counter where there was a sink and a huge overhead light.

Madison heard her speaking with Chang as he ushered her closer to the body. Bogie stood on the other side.

She tried not to breathe sot nt>

Jenny,
Madison said silently. She still found it difficult, but she touched the arm of the corpse. It astonished her that a human being could feel so absolutely stiff and cold.

Jenny’s eyes opened. They became enormous as she stared not at Madison but at Bogie standing beside her.

Humphrey Bogart!
Jenny said in silent awe.

In the—well, not in the flesh, kid.
Bogie shook his head.
This is no place for a girl like you, Miss Henderson. There’s got to be someplace you can go.

I don’t know how,
Jenny said.

Come with us. Just will yourself. Get up, and come with us,
Bogie urged.

Madison wanted to scream in protest.
No, living with one ghost is enough!

I can’t. I don’t…I don’t… I’m cold and I’m scared…but I can’t.

Thank God, Madison thought for a moment. But that was wrong.

She squeezed Jenny’s arm lightly.
You can. You can. Bogie did it, and if he did it, you can, too. Jenny, don’t you want to help us catch your killer?

Jenny nodded solemnly. She glanced from Bogie to Madison to Sean.

You’re a cop, right?
she asked him.
You came soon after I got here.
She smiled vaguely.
You know I always wanted to be in the movies,
she said.
I guess now…

You’re famous,
Bogie told her.
And you’ll become a legend when this is solved.

“As you can see,” Dr. Chang said, drawing Kat back to the autopsy table, “she was killed with one sure cut. The intention was to kill. I told Agent Cameron earlier that the strike itself was planned. Unopposed, the killer managed what he intended with ease.”

Kat nodded. “Despite the fragile position of the artery, it’s really not easy to aim so surely and deliver such a deadly strike. There are no hesitation wounds, and sn wsit poor Jenny doesn’t have a defensive wound on her.”

“The whole thing would have taken a matter of seconds,” Dr. Chang said.

“Way less than two minutes,” Sean commented.

Chang frowned, looking at him. “Yes, of course.”

Sean stepped up behind Kat, grabbed her and mimed a knife and the blow.

“I think that was eight seconds,” she said.

Sean released her. “And the killer didn’t really need the extra time when he was in the tunnel because no camera was running there, and he knew it. I believe he had to be somewhere in the studio or down in the tunnel. Or even in the Black Box Cinema.”

“Thank you, Dr. Chang,” Kat said, shaking the M.E.’s hand again.

Are you coming?
Bogie silently asked Jenny.

I’m naked and chopped to pieces,
Jenny said.

No, just rise, and think about yourself in a favorite outfit. The flesh is nothing now, and the soul, the mind, are everything.

“Caleb will take you out,” Chang said, indicating the assistant who had led them in.

As he did, Madison walked between Kat and Sean. She knew that Bogie was behind her.

She felt a little prickle at her nape.

And she knew that Jenny had risen to join them, too.

Jenny was going to help. She was going to come with them, and relive her own murder at the scene of the crime.

BOOK: Krewe of Hunters The Unholy
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