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Missy nodded and called on the radio for everyone to get to their vehicles. Five minutes later, they were accelerating at breakneck speed toward Edna, sirens flashing, loudspeaker announcing to other cars to get out of their way.
An hour and a half to Edna. At the pace they were driving, they could make that in an hour. That meant at least four and a half hours since Beulah was buried, but more likely over five.
They were too late. There was a shot, but it was a very thin shot. Even if they found the grave right away, it would be at least an hour after they arrived before they got her out. Beulah would have to get very lucky, and so would her aspiring rescuers.
Hold on, Beulah, she thought.Just hold on.
***
The Church of Galilee had been closed for over thirty years according to Missy, but it looked as though it had been closed for over a century. The building itself was half collapsed and overgrown with ivy and weeds. The cemetery was completely covered in more weeds, and the headstones were faded and covered in lichen and mold. It looked exactly like a place where someone would be buried alive.
The news only got worse when they jumped out of the car. There were no fewer than four freshly dug graves, spaced out across the cemetery. Missy started the officers digging but the thin chance they had was now no chance at all.
Faith looked at Michael, and Michael said, “I called for someone to bring some diggers, but the nearest help is an hour away. They’re putting a rush on it, but…”
He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to.
Faith thought of Carter’s haughty grin and her blood began to boil. “That bastard,” she spat. “That fucking bastard.”
“I know,” Michael said, “but don’t give up yet. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Faith thought for a moment and said, “Tell everyone to work on one grave at a time. If we dig all four at once, we have no chance. We won’t get to the bottom of any of them fast enough to save her. If we’re going to get lucky, then itwillhave to be luck.”
Michael nodded. “Turk hasn’t smelled anything?”
Faith looked at Turk, who was pacing through the cemetery, nose to the ground. “Not yet.”
He nodded again. “Well, keep him looking. He found the suit jacket earlier, maybe he’ll find Beulah.”
Or maybe he’ll find her scrubs and another gloating note, she thought but didn’t say aloud.
She called to Turk to keep looking and joined the others in starting on the first grave. They worked for about ten minutes before Turk started barking excitedly. Faith turned to see him pawing at the ground a few dozen yards away.
She walked closer and frowned. The area where Turk was digging didn’t appear fresh. The dirt over the top was gray and hard-packed and dotted with weeds. She shared a look with Michael, who lifted his hands.Your call.
She looked back at Turk, who barked anxiously at her and looked down at the small hole he had created with his front paws. Faith hesitated a moment longer, then decided to trust her dog. She called for everyone to dig where Turk had called them. A few of the officers exchanged glances, but when Missy immediately jogged over to the new location and drove her spade into the earth, they headed over.
After a few minutes, it was clear that underneath the top layer of carefully placed old earth was freshly dug dirt. Faith felt a leap of joy. They were on the right track.
They dug for about twenty minutes before they hit something. “Keep going!” Faith cried. “Double time!”
They increased their pace. Faith felt a stitch burning in her side, but she pushed through the pain, tossing spadeful after spadeful of dirt out of the way. They saw a hint of something brown and kept going.
Then Faith saw the antlers. The killer had buried a deer. It was another decoy.
“Goddammit!”she swore, tossing her shovel to the ground. She sat down and dropped her face into her hands.
“Don’t give up,” Missy insisted. “We’ll go back to the other grave.”
She immediately directed her officers to do just that, but Faith could see the despair in her eyes as well. Michael shared a look with Faith, and the exhaustion in his eyes and the slump in his shoulders told her he had given up as well.
“That asshole,” she whispered. “That asshole.”
Turk, still digging feverishly around the deer, looked up. When he saw that the others had left, he barked sharply three times. Everyone turned to look at him. He barked insistently, dug for a few more seconds around the deer, then looked up plaintively at them and barked again.
When they hesitated, he growled irritably and began digging around the deer again.
No, not around the deer.Underthe deer.
