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“She heard the bell?” Michael asked.
“Yep,” Missy confirmed. “Thank God she called it in.”
Faith decided to reserve her thanks until they found the victim. If they turned out to be too late, then she wasn’t sure a thank-you was the proper response.
Turk barked, and her attention—and that of everyone else present—snapped toward the dog. He sprinted down the rows and everyone—including the four uniforms present—ran after him. After a few steps, Missy swore and pulled her phone from her pocket. A moment later, Faith heard her on the phone with the management of the cemetery informing them of the situation and asking where they kept their gravedigging equipment.
Turk leapt easily between the rows, stopping at a pile of loose dirt with no headstone in front of it. Even from this distance, Faith could see the gleam of the bell as Michael’s flashlight beam reflected off of it.
“Bell!” she called.
Missy nodded acknowledgment and said into her phone, “No, I can operate it. I’ll send you my licensing info later. Thank you.”
She hung up and called to Faith. “I’m going for the digger!”
“Wait!” Faith said. “The digger could crush anyone buried in the grave!”
“I’ll be careful,” Missy said, “but if someone’s down there, they’ve been down there awhile.”
She had a point.
Faith nodded acquiescence, and Missy sprinted away, and for the second time tonight, Faith was impressed at how quickly a short and stoutly built person could run when properly motivated. She turned her attention back to the grave, where Turk continued to bark and trot in circles.
She considered sending the officers for their shovels, but when she turned back to check on Missy, she could see the detective breaking the lock of a large equipment shed only a few dozen yards away. She bent over and tugged on the bell, hoping that someone would pull in response.
Nothing.
She swore under her breath and tried to do some math. It was only twelve-thirty. The recorded message said that the victims were buried at midnight. That should give them more than enough time to dig out the victim.
Of course, that message could be a lie. They could have been buried much earlier and the killer simply decided on midnight for effect.
Still, some hope was better than no hope, so when Missy pulled up with the digger—a good old-fashioned diesel model—Faith said, “There might still be time.”
Missy nodded and quickly positioned the digger. Around the cemetery, lights came on as the surrounding neighborhood awoke to wonder what was happening.
Faith jogged over to the front of the cemetery, where a woman around Faith’s age with an athletic build wearing a sports bra and shorts sat in between two uniforms. She crossed her arms and shivered, but Faith suspected it wasn’t the cold that had her shaking.
“Ms. Hearst?” Faith asked.
“Mrs., actually,” the woman replied. “Kendra.”
Faith introduced herself and asked. “Can you tell me when you heard the bell?”
She took a breath and let it out slowly. “Um. I’m not sure. I think… maybe an hour ago? No, not that long. I don’t know. I called the police right after.”
She shivered again and chewed her bottom lip.
“Did you see anything or anyone?” Faith replied. “Inside or outside of the cemetery?”
She shook her head. “No, I just heard the bell.”
“You’re certain that you didn’t see anyone? Even on the street?”
“No,” she said. “No one.”
“Any vehicles?” Faith asked.
Kendra shook her head again. “No, this neighborhood is always really quiet. That’s why I run here. It’s peaceful.”
