Rainey headed back to the lodge and behind the kitchen saw three pigs roasting over an open fire. People in white aprons stood near them, turning the spits. She didn’t get close enough to see if the pigs had apples in their mouths. She felt sorry that they’d lost their lives to the likes of Earl and company.
Rounding the corner of the lodge, she noticed the cluster of agents outside the last cottage.
They found him.
She watched the group from a distance. Lights started coming on around the lodge, making it easier to see their faces. Morton came out of the cottage and called someone over to him. They put their heads together. The man he was talking to looked up and she recognized him.
Brad Rogers. Why was Morton talking to the Red Sky leader?
Then she noticed Grant hanging close to the two leaders, eavesdropping for sure. Why did she keep running into them? Was there some unfinished business for her? Did she need to heal more emotionally so she didn’t react to their presence? They weren’t on her list. She wanted to be finished with them, and not in any lethal way.
The other agents milled around, then a team arrived with a stretcher and entered the cottage. She didn’t wait around to watch the body being removed.
Security would get very tight now. She’d have to be extra careful. She’d thought about a mask earlier. It was a Halloween party after all. Rainey headed back to the women’s lounge to pick out a costume—preferably one with more pockets.
She made it upstairs without running into any more Red Sky men or getting propositioned by a guest. Two women sat on the chairs near the snack area drinking coffee and smoking. Their garish outfits didn’t match their slumped shoulders and tired expressions. She nodded to them and kept going toward the back to the rows of clothes.
She walked the aisle, amazed by how many costumes there were. She turned the corner from the golf and tennis clothes. Next came the make-believe outfits she’d seen before—cheerleaders, nurses, schoolteachers, Playboy bunnies. She shook her head at the amount of energy that was spent to satisfy men’s sexual appetites. In the next aisle she found a row of ball gowns, her fingers running across silk and velvet, polyester and satin, sequined skirts with tight bodices.
Around another corner, she found what she was looking for. Here were gypsy dresses, ballerina outfits, leotards with fairy wings, gowns from different eras, animal outfits, costumes from movies and cartoons, a whole row of wigs. Wonder Woman held a certain appeal, but she needed something with more camouflage. She couldn’t wear anything with a big skirt. A sailor outfit? No mask to match with this.
The next aisle stopped her in her tracks. Leather pants and halter tops, leather skirts, leather masks, and on the far wall hung whips and clubs, a cat o’ nine tails. Leather, silk, and nylon straps. Harnesses and leashes. The ever-popular handcuffs took up a good amount of space. She picked up what looked like a massage tool, but the spikes were steel and sharp.
Next came wicker baskets filled with dildos of various sizes and colors. Some were two headed. Others had little bunnies or kittens in front of the main shaft. She came across another one she named Cerberus for its three heads, but her imagination failed her when it came to how it would be positioned. Then studded dildos with blunted spikes. She hoped these were used on the clients and not vice versa.
Some kind of chair hung from the ceiling. All the straps baffled her as much as Cerberus. The rest of the wall resembled equipment from a medieval torture chamber. She turned away with a shudder. Maybe she should pick a dominatrix outfit, but based on the extent of this collection, she’d be too much in demand to get her real job done. She needed something that would give her some camouflage or just blend in.
Returning to the fantasy aisle, she picked out a simple bodysuit with a skeleton on it, then a skull mask. Next she chose a generic black witch’s cape with a hood. Back in the S&M aisle, she found a scythe hanging on the wall. She ran her finger along it, then winced. A small line of red rose on her finger. Good, a sharp edge. Near it, she found a sleek holster in black leather and removed the black, eight-inch dildo. The holster was perfect for her gun.
Rainey took the outfit back to the showers, washed off all the makeup Candi had so carefully applied, and slipped into her new costume. She opened her locker and retrieved the syringe, still safe in its plastic container, and stuffed it in her pocket. Then she belted the holster on under her cape and slid her gun into it. She gave the scythe a few test swipes, pleased with the balance. She secured her mask and walked toward the door.
“Oooh, the boys will shit themselves,” one of the women said.
“That’s the plan.” She laughed with them.
Outside, she found the stars had come out and a waxing moon rose low over the water. She stepped into the shadows of the lodge for a moment just to soak it all in. She was likely to be busy the rest of the night.
In the trees at the back of the property, the silhouette of a great horned owl stood out against the sky. She hadn’t realized these birds lived in the Keys. The raptor turned its head toward her. They stared at each other for a moment.
“Good hunting, my friend. May we both succeed tonight.”
The owl gave a hoot as if in answer and lifted into the air on magnificent, silent wings.
Taking this as a good omen, Rainey went back into the lodge and started her hunt for President Charles Jefferson Earl.