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Carter laughed and said, “I’ll see you soon, Special Agent!”
Oh yes, you will, she thought.
Missy made a call. After a moment, she shouted, “Well, tell him to get his ass back now and he can finish his sandwich later, we have a dying victim in peril!” A few moments later, she said, “Yeah, I need to know where some people are buried. Can you look through the obits and tell me where they’re buried?”
There was a brief pause, then she sighed with relief. “Okay, thank you.”
She hung up and turned to Faith. “Greenhouse Memorial Lawn. It’s about five minutes from here. We have a fresh grave too. It’s got a headstone, but we know that he takes opportunities.”
“Let’s go there,” Faith said.
Missy spoke briefly with the officers in charge of transporting Carter Barkley back to the station, then headed to her own vehicle. Michael and Faith jogged back to their own vehicle, where Turk already waited, pacing impatiently.
The vehicle containing Carter started toward the jail, accompanied by another cruiser. The two other vehicles flanked the three federal agents as they headed toward Greenhouse Memorial Lawn.
Faith obviously couldn’t see Carter Barkley in the back of a cruiser that was now a quarter-mile away and counting. If she had, she would have seen him smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Faith kicked at the nearest headstone, hard enough that she felt her hips ring from the force of the blow. “Dammit!” she shouted.
Turk licked Faith’s hand softly, trying to calm her down. It kept her from risking a broken foot again but didn’t drive away the frustration she felt.
“Let’s keep looking,” Michael said. “Maybe he didn’t bury her in a plot this time.”
Faith nodded, running her fingers back through her hair. Michael immediately started directing the officers and the diggers the cemetery had lent them. They fanned out and started looking through the grounds, looking for any sign of freshly dug earth. The fresh grave they had been alerted to was a bust.
“We could be in the wrong cemetery,” Missy said. “He could be misdirecting us.”
Faith recalled the flash of fear on Carter’s face and shook her head. “No, Beulah Ford is our victim.” She thought for a moment. “But we could be in the wrong cemetery.” She looked at Missy. “Whatever number you called, call them back. Tell them we need more names. Anyone related to Beulah Ford buried in the area. Tell them to go back decades, a century if they have to. We need to cast a wider net.”
She looked at the sky, which had darkened to night, then back down at her phone. Her heart sank. It was nearing an hour since they left Carter’s house, two hours since they discovered Beulah was their victim.
Who knew how long she had been buried before they caught Carter.
Missy dialed the number and Faith paced around the nearest gravestone to ease her tension. Turk trotted next to her for support, and she reached down and absently stroked his fur. “Can you smell her, boy?” she asked.
Turk looked up at her, and his plaintive stare told her he was as anxious as she was. She patted his cheek and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay, boy. We’ll get her out. We’ve made plenty of last-minute rescues.”
This time, though, the ticking clock was ticking a lot faster, and they didn’t know where to go.
“Shit!” Missy cried.
Faith snapped her head to the detective, who said, “Okay, thank you,” into her phone, then looked up at Faith. For the first time since meeting her, Faith could see real fear in her eyes.
“Beulah’s maternal grandparents are buried in the churchyard of the Church of Galilee.”
“Wonderful,” Faith said. “Where’s the Church of Galilee?”
“It doesn’t exist anymore,” Missy said, “but when it did exist, it was in Edna.”
“Where’s Edna?”
“About an hour and a half west of here.”
Faith’s heart, which had lifted slightly when Missy told her of the new location, sank once more to her feet. She kept her cool, however. She had no choice.
“All right,” she said, “let’s get going.”
