Thea stepped through the gate behind Reggie’s house and paused to scan the tree line. Jake had been gone for an awfully long time. She wasn’t so much alarmed as she was impatient. He was a trained federal agent with keen instincts. He could more than hold his own in almost any situation. But Maya’s drawing was a significant discovery and Thea was anxious to discuss the implications. At least, that’s what she told herself.
She flicked an uneasy glance over her shoulder, unable to shake the niggling worry that someone had been in the house just ahead of her. Her sister’s artwork hadn’t appeared out of thin air. Someone had deliberately left it on the refrigerator for her or Reggie to find. But why? If Derrick Sway had taken Kylie Buchanan out of mistaken identity or retribution, why would he come back here in broad daylight? Was he that confident he could elude detection, or did a craving that superseded caution drive him? The same dark need that compelled murderers to return to the scene of the crime and kidnappers to join in the search for their victims.
Turning back to the woods, Thea started to call out Jake’s name, but the utter silence of her surroundings stilled her. Earlier she could have sworn she’d spotted someone at the corner of the potting shed, but she’d chalked the sighting up to imagination or shadows. Now she whirled again, this time searching all across her mother’s backyard and probing the hiding places between the outbuildings. Then tilting her head, she skimmed the treetops. The mild breeze drifting through the leaves seemed to whisper of danger. Of something so dark and insidious that it shouldn’t be spoken aloud.
Fishing her phone from her bag, she called Jake’s cell, left a voice mail and then sent a brief text.
Where are you?
No response. She waited a moment and sent another.
Jake? You okay? Text me back.
Maybe the trees were blocking the signal, she decided, but apprehension slid like an icy finger down her backbone. She returned the phone to her bag and removed her weapon, slipping it into the back of her jeans for easier access. She wished she’d worn her holster, but nothing she could do about that now.
Taking another scan of the trees, she set out. Mosquitos buzzed around her ears as sweat trickled down her back. It was barely ten o’clock and the heat and humidity had already become stifling. A few hundred yards in, she stopped once more to listen for signs of life. Jake had to be nearby. He was on foot. How far could he go? But if he was that close, he was surely receiving her texts. Why wasn’t he answering her? It wasn’t like him to simply vanish when he knew she’d be concerned.
The sound of rustling leaves came from somewhere behind her and she spun, her senses on high alert. “Jake?”
No answer, but now she heard the crackle of trodden underbrush as someone advanced quickly down the path in her direction, still concealed by the thick vegetation. Not Jake. He would have responded. This was someone who seemed intent on overtaking her.
A bird took flight from a treetop, startling her. Drawing her weapon, she automatically flexed her knees and extended both arms straight out as she brought the sight to her eyes. She waited for the space of a heartbeat, her attention 100 percent focused before she called out, “Federal agent! Come out now with your hands where I can see them!”
For a man of his age and size, Derrick Sway’s furtive movements struck Thea as almost uncanny. One moment the trail was clear, and then in the next instant, he plunged through the low-hanging branches and halted in front of her, a hulking, formidable presence. He’d been so much on her mind since Jake had showed her the torn photograph that, for a crazy moment, Thea thought she might have conjured him from thin air. But no, he was there and all too real. Either he’d followed her from Reggie’s house or he’d already been in the woods, heard her on the trail and circled through the trees to come up behind her.
In the ensuing silence of their face-off, Thea took in several details about his appearance and committed them to memory in case she would later need to give a description. Ragged jeans. Sleeveless black T-shirt. Steel-toed work boots even in the scorching heat. Scar across his right cheek. Hair closely cropped, allowing the ink on his scalp to show through.
What struck her the most forcefully about his appearance was how much he’d changed since she’d last seen him. He hadn’t just aged. The years of his incarceration had transformed him from brooding hoodlum to sneering psychopath. If Thea remembered correctly, he was only a couple of years older than Reggie, probably just over fifty with the brawny physique of a middle-aged man who lifted weights not for health or conceit, but for the ability to inflict pain on anyone who crossed him.
He had a pistol stuffed in the waistband of his jeans. That he hadn’t already drawn on her was a testament to his supreme confidence in his physical abilities. He was ready for her, though. His hands were splayed out from his sides as if he were waiting for her to make the first move.
“Stay where you are,” she warned.
His eyes narrowed to slits as he grinned. “You pull that trigger, little girl, you better make damn certain it’s a kill shot.”
“Not a problem,” she said with steely determination. “Remove your weapon and toss it toward me. Do it now!”
He hesitated a fraction of a second before removing the pistol and dropping it to the ground.
“Kick it over here,” Thea said. “Then down on your knees, hands behind your head.” The adrenaline was pumping so hard through her veins she sucked in air, trying to control her racing heartbeat. She couldn’t let him see how badly he’d caught her off guard. She couldn’t let him know that the very sight of him had churned her stomach and beaded cold sweat upon her brow.
As the reality of the situation crashed down on her—alone in the woods with the man who may very well have killed her twin sister—Thea wanted nothing so much as to bring her weapon to his temple to force him to tell her why a picture of Maya had been found in his possession twenty-eight years after she’d gone missing. She wanted to slam her fist into his vile, grinning face and make him own up to what he’d done to a four-year-old child.
She could do none of that, of course. Professional conduct aside, he would physically overpower her if he got half a chance. Her only recourse was to hold him there until backup arrived. But she didn’t take out her phone to call for help. Not yet. Instead, she eyed him coldly as she fought her baser instincts.
He lowered himself to his knees and laced his fingers behind his head, all the while returning her scrutiny with that blood-chilling grin. What was he up to? Why had he given up his weapon so easily?
Thea kicked the pistol aside, keeping a bead and her distance. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just out for a morning stroll.” Mockery dripped around the edges of his voice. “I always did like walking in the woods. Lots of secrets buried beneath some of these trees.”
Like her sister’s remains?
He tilted his head and closed his eyes as if drawing in a scent only he could detect.
“What secrets?” Thea demanded.
“They wouldn’t be secret if I told you, now would they?” He wasn’t afraid of being arrested. He certainly wasn’t afraid of her. Thea reminded herself she had to be careful he didn’t bait her into doing something foolish. “I’m not breaking any laws, so what’s your beef with me, officer?”
“Agent. Possession of a firearm by a felon is a felony,” she said. “That alone will get you one to three.”
“How do you know I’m a felon?”
“All that prison ink is a pretty good indication.”
He cocked his head. “Nah, I don’t think that’s it. You remember me, don’t you, Sissy?”
White-hot anger wrenched at her resolve as sweat trickled down the side of her face. She resisted the urge to wipe it away with her shoulder. “Don’t call me that.”
He knew he’d hit a nerve. She was making this too easy for him. His grin slid into a leer. “Yeah, you remember me, all right. I’m a hard man to forget. Just ask your mama.” He ran his tongue slowly over his lips. “That gal was a real wildcat back before she got religion.”
The thought of their intimacy physically sickened Thea. She swallowed back her nausea as she filed away more details. Mud on his jeans and the bottoms of his work boots. Fresh scratches on his hands and arms. Some of his tattoos were more than a little disturbing. In addition to the usual prison black and white—dots on his knuckles, spider web at his elbow—he had what appeared to be occult symbolism on his biceps and along the side of his neck disappearing down into his shirt. The imagery reminded Thea of the mysterious twin totems Jake had found in these woods near this very spot. She’d sensed from the first there was something sinister about those depictions. Something meant to instill fear.
“I’ll ask you again,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”
“And I’ll give you the same answer. I’m out for a morning stroll.”
She gave him a hard, knowing glare. “You know what I think? I think you came back looking for something you left behind.”
His eyes glinted with amusement but something dark and depraved lurked beneath the surface. “Just a simple walk, nothing more.”
“With every law enforcement agency in the state looking for you? I don’t think so.”
“Let them look,” he said with an unconcerned shrug. “If you had anything on me, you’d have these woods swarming with cops. Instead, there’s no one around for miles but you and me. Know what I think? You don’t want anyone else joining our little party just yet. You want me all to yourself. You know if you take me in, I’ll demand a lawyer. As long as it’s just the two of us out here in the middle of nowhere, you might get me to talking. Maybe I’ll let something slip.” He gave her a nod of admiration. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you, girl? I like that.”
“Then you’ll talk to me?”
“I might if you ask the right questions.”
“Why did you have a torn photograph of my sister in your possession?”
He scowled at her. “What photograph?”
Thea wasn’t in the mood. “Don’t play games. You know damn well the photo I mean. The one found hidden behind the baseboard in a bedroom closet at your mother’s house.”
He lifted a brow as something indefinable flickered in his eyes. “Ever think someone else might have put it there?”
“No.”
“Because a cop has never been known to plant evidence, right?”
“Just answer the question,” Thea demanded. “Where did you get that photograph?” And why did you cut me out of the image and singe the edge?
“Don’t know about any photograph. Final answer.”
Thea let his vague response stand for a moment. “Then let’s go back to my original question. Why are you lurking around in the woods behind my mother’s house?”
“The truth? I saw you from a distance and thought you were Reggie. Honest mistake. It’s been a while since I saw her up close and you favor her enough to fool me.” His gaze dropped. “It’s the way you wear those jeans, I expect.”
Thea suppressed a shudder. “Were you in her house just now?”
“Why would I be in her house?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Can’t make things too easy for you unless I get a little something in return.”
Thea’s voice hardened as she battled her temper. “This isn’t a negotiation.”
“Everything’s a negotiation. It’s just that this time I’m the one in the catbird seat.”
“Funny, because last time I checked, I’m the one with the gun,” Thea said.
“For now.” He dipped his head and looked up at her in a way that sent a shiver straight through her heart.
She subtly adjusted her stance. “You say you mistook me for my mother. Why would you follow her into the woods?”
“That’s an easy one. Reggie and me got an old score to settle.”
“What score?”
“That’s between her and me.”
“You’ve been out of prison for months. Why come here now?” Thea pressed.
“After ten years in that hellhole, I had a lot of scores to settle. Saved the best for last.” He shook his head slightly as he looked her up and down once more. “So Reggie Lamb done raised herself a cop. Who would have ever thought?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
“Your mama wasn’t exactly the law-and-order type when I knew her. She was up for anything back in the day. Always dragging you damn kids with us all over creation.” He squinted up at her. “You remember sleeping in the back seat of my car?”
“No.”
“That’s probably a good thing for your sake. Might have seen something that was bad for your health.”
“Like what?”
He gave her a meaningful look, but didn’t answer. “I used to wonder what you girls would look like when you grew up. Reggie was a mighty fine piece of—”
“Watch your mouth,” Thea snapped.
He pursed his lips in appreciation. “You’re not so hard on the eyes, either, but the other one? Maya? I could tell even then she’d be a real little heartbreaker someday.”
Bile rose in Thea’s throat. She could feel her hands start to tremble in rage. Don’t take the bait. Don’t let him goad you into letting down your guard. She pulled in air. “Did you take her?”
“Which one?” His drawl still had that mocking edge.
As much as Thea wanted to learn the truth about her sister—and she intended to do exactly that—there was a more pressing issue at hand. “What do you know about Kylie Buchanan’s disappearance?”
“Only that she’s long gone by now.”
“How do you know that?”
“Use your head, girl. It’s been...what? Two days since she went missing? Reason should tell you she’s already dead or on her way out of the country. Either way, you’re wasting your time searching these woods.”
“There’s only one way you can be that certain,” Thea said.
“Nah, I’m just being realistic.”
She lowered her voice as she tried to filter out her anger and disgust. Just keep him talking, see what you can learn. “Like you said, there’s no one around but you and me. You’ll notice I haven’t arrested or read you your rights. That means anything you say can’t be used against you in a criminal case. Tell me the truth. Do you know where she is?”
His expression turned sly. “Which one?”
He was enjoying this too much. He knew he was getting under her skin. “Are you admitting you took my sister?”
“If I say yes, will you let me go?”
She tightened her grip on the firearm. “Confess and find out.”
His laugh was a low, ugly rumble. “I’m not confessing to anything, but even if I did, you couldn’t lay a hand on me. I could get up and walk away this very instant and you wouldn’t dare shoot me. Know why? Because if you really believe I nabbed that little girl, you won’t risk killing the one person you think can tell you where she is.”
“Try me,” Thea dared him. “I’m an excellent shot. I can make you wish you were dead without hitting anything vital.”
“Go ahead,” he said as he rose slowly to his feet. “Let’s see how good you really are.”
Thea shot off a round close enough to stop him dead in his tracks. Tree bark exploded near his head. He picked a splinter from his cheek as he sized her up. No longer taunting or leering, he had the look of a man who would enjoy ripping her heart out with his teeth.
He spread his hands at his sides.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Thea said. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”
He was right, though. How could she risk putting him down when he might be the only link to Kylie’s whereabouts? But if she didn’t do something quick, the confrontation could rapidly escalate into a kill-or-be-killed situation. She mentally ran through her options, which were few from where she stood.
Then something unexpected happened. A male shout came from somewhere nearby. She thought, at first, it must be Jake. When he called out a second time, she realized she’d never heard the voice before.
“Did you hear what I said?” he bellowed. “We’re out here looking for the missing child. Stop shooting before you hit someone!”
Thea responded to the faceless stranger without taking her eyes off Sway. “I’m Agent Thea Lamb with the FBI. Stay where you are and identify yourself.”
Silence. Then, “You’re Reggie Lamb’s daughter?” The underbrush rustled close by. A man rushed out of the trees.
“I said stay where you are!” Thea yelled.
Instead of using the distraction to his advantage, Sway pivoted toward the stranger. Thea kept her gaze and weapon trained on Sway as she observed the newcomer from her periphery. He’d stopped short a few feet from the path to take stock of the situation. From what she could see, he was of medium height and build with longish brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore jeans, sneakers and a white T-shirt with some kind of logo on the pocket. Nothing stood out about him except that he seemed to know her mother.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, his gaze moving from Sway to Thea and back to Sway.
“Stay back, sir,” Thea cautioned. “I’m taking this man into custody.”
The stranger adjusted his glasses as he took an awkward step back from the path. “What’s he done?”
“Go on about your business and let me handle this,” Thea said.
The stranger halted his retreat as his gaze shot again to Derrick Sway. “Wait a minute. I know who you are. I saw your picture at the command center this morning. You’re the ex-con everyone’s looking for.” He swung back around to Thea. “I’m Eldon Mossey. Your mother is a good friend of mine.”
He certainly didn’t match the image of the charismatic country preacher Thea had visualized in her head. His appearance was the very definition of nondescript. And yet even as her first instinct was to dismiss him as a harmless bystander, she caught a look in Derrick Sway’s eyes that made her wonder again why he hadn’t attacked when he’d had the opportunity. What was going on here? Did the two of them know each other? Had she interrupted a clandestine meeting in the woods?
As if sensing her suspicions, Eldon said quickly, “Kylie’s mother and I came out here to look for her. We couldn’t sit around in the police station all day and do nothing. We split up to cover more ground. When I heard the gunshot, I was worried an inexperienced deputy or civilian volunteer might have gotten trigger happy.”
A young woman came hurrying out of the woods and halted behind him. She was a few years younger than Mossey—probably in her midtwenties, though her snarled ponytail and gaunt frame made her look much younger on first glance. Her pale blond hair shimmered golden in the spangled light. For some reason, Thea thought of the yellow hair that sprouted from the figures in Maya’s drawing and from the wood totems.
Even with her drawn features and the dark circles beneath her eyes, Taryn Buchanan was a very beautiful young woman. Beautiful, fragile and tragic. Catnip to a man like Russ Buchanan and possibly to Eldon Mossey.
Taryn came up beside Eldon, breathless from her sprint through the trees. “I heard a gunshot—” She broke off on a gasp when she saw Derrick Sway, who had hardly moved a muscle. Thea had no doubt he was planning something. He wouldn’t wait around passively for her backup to arrive, let alone for her to put him in cuffs. He was biding his time for the right opportunity.
Mossey put out a hand as if to hold Taryn back. “Stay behind me. This is Reggie’s daughter. She’s taking this man into custody.”
“What’s going on?” Taryn asked in a shocked voice. “Who is he?”
“We saw his photograph earlier at the command center, remember? His name is Derrick Sway.”
Taryn let out a gasp as her hand flew to her throat. Mossey tried to put a protective arm around her shoulders, but she stumbled out of his reach. Her eyes widened as she stared at Sway. Thea saw something in the blue depths that alarmed her.
“Stay calm,” she advised, but she feared she was quickly losing control of the situation.
Taryn’s keening rose to a shrill howl. “You’re a monster! You took my baby! Where is she? What have you done to her? Tell me where she is!”
Mossey started toward her. “Taryn, honey—”
“Don’t touch me!” She seemed on the verge of hyperventilating as her fingers clenched into tight fists at her sides.
Sway pounced on her vulnerability. “What say you and me take a stroll through the woods? You treat me right and maybe I’ll tell you what you want to know,” he taunted.
Before Mossey could stop her, Taryn lunged for Sway, playing right into his hands. In the blink of an eye, he had her by the throat, pulling her back against him as he whipped out a knife.
“Put down your piece or I’ll slit her throat and gut her like a pig,” he warned.
Thea had no doubt he would do exactly that and laugh while doing so. She bent and placed her firearm on the ground.
Taryn had been struggling to free herself from his grip, but now she went limp as her eyes darkened with fear.
“Don’t hurt her,” Mossey pleaded. “Just let her go and walk away.”
“Throw your phones over here,” Sway commanded. When they complied, he smashed them with the heel of his boot. “Here’s what’s about to happen. She’s coming with me. If either of you tries to follow, she dies. If I see or hear sirens, she dies.” He started backing toward the trees, his arm still around Taryn’s throat. When she stumbled, he lifted her off the ground, crushing her windpipe. She clawed at his beefy arm, gasping frantically for air. He eased the pressure but didn’t let her go. Within seconds, the trees swallowed them up.
Thea retrieved her gun and started after them. Eldon Mossey caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing? He said he’d kill her if we follow.”
For the first time since he’d appeared out of the woods, Thea got a good look at her mother’s preacher. Maybe it was her imagination or maybe her job had made her overly suspicious, but it seemed to her now that his appearance was carefully unremarkable. A benign façade created to court trust and calm doubts. But behind the glasses, his eyes were a flinty bluish gray with a hint of hostility.
She glanced down where he clutched her arm before shaking him off. “Find a phone and call 9-1-1.”
“You’re still going after him?” he asked incredulously. “You’re going to get her killed!”
“Find a phone! Now!”
He retreated with a reluctant nod. “If anything happens to her...”
Thea didn’t wait around to hear the rest of his threat. She plunged into the trees, following a trail of snapped twigs and trampled underbrush. She tried to suppress the sound of her pursuit, but she didn’t dare let Sway get too far ahead. Sooner or later, he’d have to let Taryn go. She’d only slow him down. The only question was whether Thea could catch up in time to save her.
The trees began to thin as they circled back toward Reggie’s neighborhood. Sway must have left a vehicle parked somewhere nearby. Up ahead, she saw something on the ground. Then she recognized Taryn’s white shirt and pale blond hair. She wasn’t moving. As Thea closed in, she saw blood on the woman’s hands where she clutched her throat.
Thea approached with caution, her gaze darting through the trees and underbrush. She knelt beside Taryn and felt for a pulse. Weak but steady. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Did you see where he went?” she rasped. “You have to go after him!”
“Shush. Don’t try to talk,” Thea said. “You’re losing blood, so we need to get you to a hospital.” She jerked her T-shirt over her head. She wore a sports bra beneath but modesty was the least of her worries. For the second time in as many days, she pressed a makeshift bandage to a wound to staunch the blood flow. The cut was about three or four inches long, though it didn’t look deep enough to have damaged any major arteries or veins. Still, there was a lot of blood.
“Go after him!” Taryn rasped. “Don’t let him get away!”
“We’ll find him again, I promise. Right now, we need to make sure you’re okay.”
She clutched at Thea’s arm. “I don’t care what happens to me. Don’t you understand? He knows where she is!” She struggled to sit up, but Thea pressed her down.
“Just lie still—”
“Please!”
Thea hesitated and then, putting herself in Taryn’s place, nodded. “Keep pressure on the wound. Like this.” She took Taryn’s hand and pressed it against the T-shirt. “Don’t let up until help comes, okay?”
Then she stood and, with one last glance at Taryn Buchanan, struck out in pursuit.
JAKE HAD BEEN operating in total darkness since surfacing from the pool, but now he noticed a flicker of light up ahead, so thin and faint as to be nothing more than an optical illusion. Or wishful thinking. But he wasn’t imagining the draft against his wet skin or that strange hollow melody that came to him now and then like a ghostly warning.
He kept one hand on the damp limestone wall as he moved slowly but steadily toward that sliver of wavering light. He had no idea where it was coming from. Earlier, when he’d first emerged from the tunnel, he hadn’t seen any other passageways in the cavern, but maybe he’d missed it somehow. Maybe his attacker had crawled into a tunnel and Jake was seeing the illumination of his flashlight or headlamp.
Could his team already be in the cave? He started to call out, wanted badly to call out, but what if his assailant still lurked nearby? Someone had hit him hard enough to daze him and then kicked him into the pool to drown. Whatever other delusions the blackness might conjure, Jake wasn’t imagining the bump on his head or the pain in his ribs. Nor was he imagining the whisper of fresh air that drifted in from some hidden place.
He kept going, his hand feeling along the clefts and recesses in the limestone. The glimmer was coming from a narrow gap in the wall. As Jake shuffled closer, his feet bumped against a pile of crushed rock and debris on the floor. He bent and felt his way over the obstacles.
Except for the draft and that minuscule beacon, he detected nothing unusual about this corner of the cave. If the flickering light had been there before, he surely would have noticed it. But it was possible the faint illumination had become lost in the brighter beam of his flashlight. Also possible that the doll floating in the pool had already captured his attention.
Had he been in the cave long enough for the sun to shift position? If there was an opening to the outside, maybe that was why he could see the light now and not earlier. He didn’t think he’d been belowground much more than an hour, two at the most, but the blow to his head could have distorted his perception. His predicament seemed so surreal that he actually wondered if he was still trapped in the vortex, unconscious and dreaming as he swirled into a sinkhole.
The needle stings in his palms from the jagged rock grounded him in reality. His heart quickened as he crawled over the debris and closed in on the quivering light. He put up a hand and the shimmer disappeared. He lowered his hand, letting the pinhole brightness tunnel back through the darkness. He could make out a two-or three-foot indentation in the wall from which a tunnel opened up from the side. This really was an optical illusion, he realized. The passage was invisible unless you crawled up inside the depression. The flickering light came from a crack in the wall at the rear of the cavity.
He could hear a steady drip of water somewhere nearby. Hunkering inside the depression, he peered into the mouth of the tunnel. As soon as he entered the passage, he would once more be exploring in complete blackness. The illumination in the alcove wasn’t much, but it was something. Still, a wisp of fresh air on his face made him wonder if there was another way out of the cave through the tunnel.
He considered his options as he crouched in the recess. Check out the hidden passage or sit tight and wait for his team. He knew what he should do. But the niggle had returned to the back of his neck, prodding him forward until he realized he didn’t have a choice, after all. As long as there was a chance—no matter how slim—that Kylie could be lost somewhere inside the cave, he would keep going regardless.
Cocking his head toward the sound of dripping water, he took a moment to steady his nerves. Then he crawled through the tunnel until he bumped up against a wall. Feeling his way with an outstretched hand, he turned right, maneuvering through a space so tight, he worried he might get stuck between the walls. After a few stomach-clenching moments, the tunnel widened and the darkness seemed to thin. Another right turn back toward the pool cavern and then several more yards on his belly and elbows. Up ahead, he saw another crack in the wall through which a brighter radiance emanated.
Squeezing through into a small cavern, he slowly rose with his hands overhead. He could stand in a stooped position. Reason told him Kylie could never have found her way back through the maze of tunnels. Nor was it likely that someone had carried her or even dragged her through the tight passages. He was down here wasting precious time. Still, he moved forward, turning once more to the right—and then suddenly the wavering illumination seemed to explode.
The light was so brilliant at first, he thought he must have emerged from the cave into full sunlight. Yet another illusion. The cavern was large, but he was still surrounded by limestone walls. When he lifted his head, he could feel the draft on his face. Somewhere above him, there was an opening to the surface where fresh air and a sliver of sunlight seeped in.
But the flickering light didn’t come from the sun. Someone had been in the cavern moments before him and left candles burning in old wine bottles. That person might still be inside, Jake realized as he peered through the dancing shadows. Despite the fresh air from above, the relentless dribble of water down the limestone walls gave the place a dank, mildewy smell.
He appeared to be alone, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He drew his weapon as he searched for another way out or even a fissure in the wall where his attacker might lurk. Judging by the faded graffiti on the walls and the rusty beer cans strewed across the floor, the cavern had once been used for clandestine parties. If not for the lighted candles, Jake might have thought the place had gone untouched for decades. But someone had been inside just before him. Someone who knew the hidden grotto’s dark secret.
The drip of water seemed to fade away as the pounding in his ears grew louder. He dropped his weapon to his side as he focused on another pile of dirt and rock. On the wall behind the heap, someone had painted a cross. Rather than randomly placed, the wax-covered wine bottles had been arranged around the mound like votive candles at an altar.
At one end of the old grave, a partially exposed skull peeked through the rubble.