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“Okay.” Cassie’s voice was so high she sounded like a child. “You wouldn’t happen to have another gun on you, would you?”
“If I did, would you know how to shoot it?”
“More or less.”
“Not the confident answer I was hoping for, but no, I don’t have another one. If you spot anything else, grab it. Fire poker. Baseball bat. Anything, got it?”
“Got it.”
Cassie stayed right behind Harris as they made their way through the front entrance and into the living room. Cassie noticed how beautiful it was, with period pieces of furniture and original hardwood floors. But there was something off. Wallpaper peeled at the seams. Paint chipped, revealing an artist’s pallet of colors underneath the freshest coat. While the house gave the appearance of being pristine, it was all fake, a cover up. No amount of paint and wallpaper could hide the evil that roamed the halls.
“Do you hear anything?” Harris whispered.
“No,” Cassie said, “do you?”
Harris shook her head. “Do you see anything?”
Cassie was about to give the detective the same answer, but as soon as they stepped from the living room to the kitchen, she noticed Elizabeth standing in front of another door. Her face was a mask of determination and as soon as her eyes locked with Cassie’s, she faded away.
“I think he’s through there.” Cassie pointed to the door. “And I’m guessing the basement
is behind that door.”
“What makes you say that?” Harris asked.
“My vision from earlier, remember? I saw a basement with an altar. Ten bucks we go through that door, we find it down there.”
“I’m not in a gambling mood,” Harris said, “but I don’t think we have a choice.”
“Can’t we wait for backup?”
“There’s most likely a cellar door that leads outside. We can’t risk him getting away. If he disappears into the woods, we may not find him again.” Harris stopped outside the door and looked around the kitchen. “Butcher knife is missing. He doesn’t have a gun on him.”
Cassie followed the detective’s line of sight and pulled out a knife of her own from the butcher block. “What’s the plan?”
“I need you to be my eyes, okay?” Harris looked at Cassie, who was thankful the detective looked much braver than Cassie felt. “He knows this house better than we do. It might be dark down there. I want you to use my phone as a flashlight, okay? When I look left, you move it left. If you see movement somewhere else, you call out the direction and shine the flashlight on it.”
Cassie felt like crying. “Okay.”
“We’re going to be alright,” Harris said. “There’s two of us. Three if you count Elizabeth. We outnumber him.”
Cassie blew out a huge breath and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Forty-One
Harris twisted the door handle to the basement and pulled it open sharply. It bounced against the wall with a thunk. She stuck her head into the darkness and leaned back. When nothing happened, she did it once more.
“There’s a bit of light down there,” Harris said. “But it’s still dark. Might be candles. Are you ready with the flashlight?”
Cassie held up the phone and pointed it forward. “Yes.”
“Remember, stay as close to me as you can without getting tripped up. If you see movement, call the direction.”
“Okay.”
Harris waited a few beats to make sure Cassie didn’t have anything else to say, and she stuck her head through the doorway one more time. “Savannah PD. Come out with your hands up.”
When there was no response, she lifted her weapon and descended the stairs.
