AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jason watched him, sighed inwardly, and started off.
As before, it was slow going, moving through each building, shining his flashlight beam into every nook or cranny large enough to conceal an adult female.
At least this time he had the advantage of having explored these buildings before. That was more of an edge than Kennedy had.
Jason came at last to the Lyceum of the Aquatic.
Jokes aside, he’d have been delighted to never see the inside of that place again, let alone his girlfriend the mermaid. Following Kennedy’s logic, the lyceum was the ideal place to conceal Davies’s body given it was the last place a sane person would hide her.
He went through the faux entrance, pas
t the ticket kiosk and the pedestal with the old-fashioned diving helmet. As he reached the entrance to the main hall the assorted weird smells of the place hit him. The rotting taxidermy, the mildew and mold, the general air of swamp gas and malaise, all magnified by the rain.
He paused, pulled his Glock, ejected the magazine, squeezed the trigger, and racked the slide. He let the trigger out slowly, listening for the click of the trigger reset.
Click.
There was no problem with his pistol. There had been no problem four hours earlier when he’d last checked it. There had been no problem in Miami. The problem was not—and had never been—with his weapon.
And in any case, they were not dealing with a shooter.
Just do your fucking job.
He slapped the magazine back in, holstered his weapon, and entered the hall.
Floorboards creaked noisily with every step. Shining drops of rain fell through the ceiling.
He stopped, staring around the long center hall. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom. The imprint of dozens of footsteps coming and going could be seen in the dust and dirt, a reminder of three days earlier.
Changeable light from the broken slats in the roof wavered over the bleached squares of wooden floor. Something glittered in one of the diorama cases, catching the fitful rays, and Jason moved to check it out.
A glass eye.
A souvenir from one of the long gone taxidermy creations. The single eye seemed to glare at him.
Jason turned away, holding his flashlight aloft. Thanks to the lousy weather, there was even less visibility than the last time.
The rain dripped from the ceiling, whispered outside the entrance. Jason’s heart began to thud as the uneasy—and unmistakable—sense he was not alone stole over him.
He threw a quick look over his shoulder.
Nothing. There was no one there. Of course there’s no one there. With two FBI agents canvassing the town?
For Christ’s sake. He was not going to be able to do his job if he couldn’t stop jumping at every shadow.
He deliberately turned his back on the entrance, scanning the room, probing the shadows with the ray of bright, white light from his flashlight.
His gaze fell on what looked like…something blue. Something…human. He started forward and a floorboard groaned ominously.
Jason froze.
Not a floorboard. The floor. The whole rotten expanse of floor. In fact, it sounded like the entire building was about to go.
He held his breath, waiting. He took a cautious step backward.
A loud and unpleasant squeak, but nothing like the other sound.
A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He took another step back. Another startling squeak like he’d stepped on a mouse’s tail.
