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But it might not help, either. Whatever nefarious plan Holmes was involved in, he was in it up to his neck. And he wasn’t going to show until the job was finished.
In fact, considering all the people on Bri’s list who’d died—including Kavanaugh, who’d no doubt been targeted after he got too close to discovering the perpetrator’s identity—Holmes’s absence was a positive omen. It likely meant the plan was still in progress.
Yet in his gut, Marc knew that with every passing second, the danger to Bri was escalating.
THIRTY
A MUTTERED OATH ECHOEDin the tomb-like bunker as Travis paced in front of the flashlight lantern, and Bri peeked at her watch.
Six forty-five.
They’d been here almost two hours.
And Travis was getting more and more agitated.
His edginess, along with the fact he hadn’t yet killed her, suggested he was either waiting for further instructions or someone was supposed to meet him here to do the final dirty work.
Perhaps the killer connected to Les Kavanaugh’s expanded list.
In light of her discovery today after James Wallace’s call, one name came to mind—but wrapping her head around the notion that Alison was behind all the murders was difficult, even if the pieces did fit.
Travis whipped out his cell phone. Scanned the screen. Cursed again.
There wouldn’t be any service inside this vault. A realization he’d apparently just come to.
After snatching up the flashlight, he strode toward the door. “Don’t try anything stupid, Bri. I’m not taking my eyes or my gun off you.”
She didn’t respond.
It wasn’t as if there was anything she could try, after all.He had the sole source of light—which could have been a weapon used to blind him had he ever moved more than six feet away from it—and if she attempted to fumble around in the dark, she’d end up flat on her face. Again.
The door opened.
Although the sun had set, a full moon gave the woods outside a ghostly glow.
Travis set the lantern in the doorway and stepped out onto the concrete platform, facing her direction as he punched at his phone and put it to his ear.
After fifteen seconds, he spewed out more obscenities, shoved his fingers through his hair, and picked up the lantern before reentering and closing the door behind him.
As he set the light back on the box and resumed his pacing, she spoke. “Look, it’s obvious you’re waiting for something. Can you give me a clue what’s going on? It’s not like you have anything to lose at this point. I assume the plan isn’t to let me out of here alive. Who will I tell?” Despite the quivers rippling through her body, she managed to keep her voice steady.
Several beats ticked by.
She tried again. “Will you at least tell me who’s calling the shots?” Because it wasn’t him. That was becoming clearer by the minute.
More silence.
But just when she thought he was going to remain mute, he spoke.
“I don’t know.”
The headache pounding in her temple and the throb in her nose must be messing with her brain, because that answer didn’t compute.
“I don’t understand. Why would you get involved in a crime like this with someone you don’t even know?”
He stopped. Kicked at a box. “They saw me plant the nails and cut the tree.”
Ah.
