by C. J. Cross
Dana was no shrinking violet. She didn’t need anyone’s protection. Shepard should’ve surmised as much after she’d broken into Barnes’ house, but based on the death grip he had on her, he hadn’t learned his lesson. She was about to tell him she had enough taekwondo training to take care of any creep in this place when the burly snake charmer stepped into their path.
He pulled a hot pink pamphlet from the satchel around his wide waist and offered it to Dana. “Hey gorgeous, looking for representation?”
“She’s good,” Shepard answered, starting to steer Dana away.
She stood her ground, smiling at the man and taking the pamphlet. She even threw him a wink before letting Shepard guide her away.
“What the hell was that?” he growled when they were out of earshot.
“You’re the one who said we needed to play the part. What happened to every person is an opportunity?”
“Yeah, just not guys with snakes, okay?”
Shepard shivered, making her grin. “You’re afraid of snakes?”
“Some fears are healthy,” he argued. She was about to tease him further when something on the pamphlet caught her eye. “Hey, look at this. Isn’t this the name of one of the film companies Barnes was caught pirating?”
“You’re right.” Shepard pointed to the booth number. “Let’s go check it out.”
As they rounded the corner and the booth came into view, so did Anson Barnes. Dana’s heart skipped a beat. “Holy shit! That’s him.”
“Stay here,” Shepard ordered.
“Not a chance.”
Shepard’s jaw tightened with objection, but Dana cut him off. “You’re not leaving me behind. Besides, you’ll look less intimidating if you approach Barnes with me on your arm. And I have the pamphlet that directed us to his booth,” she said, waving the pink paper under Jake’s nose.
Swearing under his breath, he conceded. “Fine, but we’re doing this my way. I do the talking.”
They approached the booth, Dana doing her best to remember how to breathe. For once, she was glad she had someone by her side to take the lead. This could be it. The moment she got the answers she’d spent her life searching for. Would she look into this man’s eyes and find the closure she craved? Or would this be another dead end?
Jake didn’t waste any time. He approached the short, balding man standing behind a table filled with DVDs. “Anson Barnes?”
The man nodded, running his fingers along his combover as he offered a crooked-toothed smile. “What can I do for ya?”
“Actually, I’m hoping you can answer a few questions for me.”
Anson stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dingy cargo shorts, rocking back on his heels. Everything about him—from his baggy shorts to his Hawaiian shirt and unkempt chest hair creeping out from the undone top button—screamed that this guy didn’t have a care in the world. It made Dana’s stomach knot. Could people really be so cold blooded? Ritualist murders one day, smiling at adult expos the next? She began to doubt herself. Maybe this was where Barnes preyed on the desperate and lonely as he targeted his next victims.
A voice in the back of her mind resisted. Her parents wouldn’t have come to a place like this, would they?
Again, she found herself wondering what secrets they’d kept from her.
“Shoot,” Anson said, his rotten grin in place.
Shepard got down to business, rattling off the dates of the Romeo and Juliet murders. “Can you tell me where you were on those dates?”
“That depends. Who wants to know?”
Jake pulled his badge. “Agent Shepard, FBI. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”
The color drained from Anson’s ruddy face right before he bolted.
“Stop!” Jake took off after him, but that only seemed to make the oily little man move faster.
Dana was on the move, too. Innocent people didn’t run. There was no way she was letting Barnes get away.
She tore off her stilettos and joined Shepard as they raced after him. But Barnes seemed just as desperate to escape as Dana was for answers. Every time it seemed like they were gaining on him, he’d evade them, knocking over anyone who got in his way. Once he was out of the massive ballroom that housed the expo, he only gained more ground, moving through the hotel like he’d grown up there.
When Barnes led Jake into the casino, she took a different path. Moving along the outside, she kept her eyes on the man who owed her answers. Jake was hot on his heels, but panicked patrons kept getting in his way.
In no time, Barnes was through the casino, into the lobby and out the front doors. The screech of tires gave Dana momentary hope that he’d been hit. She didn’t want him dead, just slowed down. When she saw the angled cars and faces of worried drivers, she knew she hadn’t gotten that lucky.
Shepard raced under the portico a moment after Dana. Surveying the scene, he roared at the onlookers. “Which way did he go?”
A valet pointed. Dana’s heart was pounding in her ears as Jake lifted his phone to his mouth, yelling into it. “Suspect spotted. In pursuit on foot. Westbound on Harmon Ave.” A second later the phone was in his pocket and Shepard’s hand was around Dana’s. “Come on. Let’s get this bastard.”
21
Dana bent at the waist, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
The ice cold air-conditioning inside the Cosmopolitan Hotel chilled her sweat, making her shiver. She wasn’t out of shape. The damn skintight jumpsuit just wasn’t built for running. But that hadn’t stopped her from sprinting down the Strip in pursuit of Barnes.
She blamed her wheezing on the staggering Nevada heat. Her sweat-slicked palms slipped against the pleather as she tugged at the tight material. She could barely take a full breath with the way the jumpsuit was crushing her ribs.
Dana swore under her breath, wishing she could just rip the ridiculous costume off.
“You okay?” Shepard asked.
She glared at him. “Why didn’t you shoot him?”
“You don’t draw your weapon unless you intend to use it. And I couldn’t very well take a shot in a crowded public place. Besides, we don’t even know if he’s guilty.”
“He ran! That conveys guilt.”
“Well lucky for him, you don’t get to play judge, jury and executioner. It’s innocent until proven guilty, Doc.”
“I know that! It’s just ...”
“Just what?”
“I need answers.”
“Are you ready to tell me why this case is so important to you?”
Before she’d decided how to answer, Shepard’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He picked it up, nodding as he grunted a response she couldn’t hear. When he hung up, his stern gaze moved to Dana. “Stay here.”
“Are you kidding me? I didn’t track this guy across the country and run barefoot down Las Vegas Boulevard to stand by and let you get all the glory. I’m going in with you.”
“Negative. We don’t know if Barnes is armed. I can’t let you go in there. It’s too dangerous.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He gave her a patronizing smirk and patted his weapon. “Besides, I have back up.”
Dana looked at the officers gathered in the Cosmopolitan Hotel. They all stood at the ready, awaiting Agent Shepard’s orders. Barnes had been seen entering one of the clubs inside the flashy hotel. They lucked out in the fact it was a nightclub, so it was empty of patrons and employees at this hour. According to hotel security, there was only one way in and out. This could be their big break.
Dana stared at the neon glow of the giant red key next to the club entrance. She’d spent half her life researching symbolic artifacts. It made it hard not to think of the club’s logo as a sign. Was this red key about to unlock the questions that had plagued her for a lifetime?
Her body thrummed with anticipation as she watched Shepard dole out tactical instructions. He moved about the officers with authority, taking only seconds
to put together a swift and precise attack. It was clear he was in his element here. Dana was not. Recognizing that, she took a step back and let the professionals do what they did best. It was the same respect she hoped Shepard would show her if they’d found themselves in some satanic ritual site rather than a police standoff.
Heart in her throat, Dana silently wished Shepard and the officers luck as they made their move into the club, praying they’d all come out alive and with the answers she desperately needed.
The minutes dragged on like a Pennsylvania winter, harsh and unrelenting. If this kept up, Dana wasn’t going to have any fingernails left. Normally, she shoved her hands in her pockets to curb the nervous habit, but her damn skintight jumpsuit didn’t have any. She couldn’t stand this, just waiting outside when the man behind the black double doors in front of her might’ve killed her parents.
Dana felt useless, and that was one thing she hated more than not knowing the truth.
She knew Shepard was right, it would be dangerous for her to enter unarmed, but in her experience the mind could be a deadly weapon, and hers was as sharp as any blade.
The red key glowed, neon pulsing as if inviting her in. The pop of gunfire made Dana’s decision for her. Ignoring the protests of two officers who’d remained outside with her and hotel security, Dana made a run for it.
She rushed through the doors, stumbling into an alternate reality.
The darkness of the retro speakeasy club was disorienting. She pressed her back into a wall of vinyl records, giving her eyes a moment to adjust before moving through the strange room. Crouched, she moved past an old Victrola and crates of booze labeled ‘confiscated’. She navigated the worn velvet seating and made her way down a hall lined with prohibition repeal posters to a heavy wooden door leading to the main club. It had a sliding iron peephole, which had been left half open. Just enough for her to get a glimpse inside.
All was quiet. Too quiet. Like the lull between waves on a deserted beach. She was sure she’d heard gunfire, but she saw no sign of movement inside the club. No one writhing on the floor in pain, no suspect in custody.
For a full minute she held her breath, listening for any signs of life. Her senses tingled, telling her this was a bad idea, but her heart wouldn’t let her turn back. Silently pushing the door open, Dana made her way into the belly of the massive nightclub.
The space spanned at least two floors from what she could see, maybe more. The floor she was on split into varying levels and dark alcoves. It was the perfect place to hide. Shepard had only gone in with six officers, but a place this size would take three times that many men to canvass. It confirmed Dana’s decision to disobey him. In a space like this, Shepard needed all the help he could get.
Staying low, she moved past a white baby grand piano into a room with a massive backlit stained-glass window. The light cast an eerie green and yellow glow across the empty tables and marble floor. Slipping into one of the curtained alcoves, Dana took a minute to survey the area.
Across the room was a long bar in front of a mirrored wall displaying a row of expensive liquor. The bottles glowed as the neon lights of the bar faded from blue to pink to yellow and back again. Plastic crates of clean glassware sat on the black granite bar top, waiting for the barback to come in and stow them away.
Everything seemed in its place.
Her eyes traveled along the bar one more time, a row of large glass terrariums snagging her attention. What a strange item to have in a nightclub. The grouping of empty domed glasses on the bar reflected the light from the barback mirror in an unnerving way. The shadows behind them almost seemed to take on a life of their own.
For some reason, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Dana’s gaze fixed on a familiar sliver of bright material that rose and fell into view inside the glass as though it was breathing. That’s when it hit her. The shadows behind the glass terrariums looked unnatural because they were. The concave glass was reflecting an odd angle of the mirror that normally wouldn’t be visible.
Hope rose so swiftly in her chest it was hard to breathe. Suppressing her eagerness, Dana stood slowly, her eyes never leaving the unmistakable pattern of the Hawaiian shirt. She’d recognize it anywhere, even through the distorted looking glass. Keeping her movements slow, she crept toward Barnes’ hiding place. Sheltering behind the bar had been a mistake. It may have kept him from sight, but Dana had the advantage now. His view of her approach would be blocked unless he gave up his cover.
A few more steps and she would be there. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears she almost didn’t hear her mistake, but Barnes did. His head shot up from behind the bar the moment her foot made contact with the chair leg. It squeaked across the marble floor. Barnes bolted like a horse from a starting gate, and Dana had no option but to give chase.
“Stop!” she screamed, racing after him.
Barnes cleared the bar, and darted through the club, flipping chairs in his wake to slow her down, but Dana wasn’t deterred. Her eyes locked onto the back of his head like a heat-seeking missile. Lungs burning, she pushed herself hard, following him down a level. Her conviction didn’t seem to matter, Barnes was just plain faster. But Dana didn’t give up and it paid off.
She got her first break when he turned down a hall and tripped on a riser he hadn’t seen in the dark. The change in floor level sent him sprawling. It was all she needed to close the distance between them. She never broke stride as she flung herself onto his back. Her knee connected with his spine with so much force it knocked the wind out of him, giving Dana the advantage she needed to gain control. Twisting his arms behind his back, she pinned him to the ground.
Chest heaving, she hissed out the words she needed to say. “Did you do it? Did you kill them?”
“What the hell are you talking about, lady?”
“James and Renee Gray.” She rattled off the date and location her parents’ bodies had been found with the practice of one’s own birthday and home address. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t let that stop her. Wrenching his arms painfully, she demanded an answer. “Tell me the truth! You owe me that.”
“I didn’t kill nobody, lady! Christ! Get off me.”
Dana began rattling off the names of the most recent victims, but that only infuriated Barnes further. “You’re not pinning this on me. I’m no murderer!”
He began to buck and kick, but Dana held tight.
It wasn’t good enough.
Barnes tore an arm free and elbowed her in the ribs. She lost her leverage and he rolled her off of him. In a flash she’d lost control, and now it was his turn for revenge.
He swung wildly, one of his fists connecting with her jaw.
Dana tasted blood, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She centered herself, letting her mind slip into her taekwondo training. Barnes came at her with another punch, but she blocked it with a kick and scrambled back to her feet. Barnes came at her again. This time she snapped a front kick into his shins. He groaned in pain, but didn’t stop coming at her with his fists. And now he was ready for her.
Anticipating her next kick, Barnes dodged the knee strike that should’ve dropped him. He grabbed Dana by the hair, shoving her into the wall while she was off balance. She saw stars after her head met drywall, but Barnes wasn’t done yet. His fist still tightly wrapped in her hair, he yanked her head back, disabling her with a chokehold. He was breathing heavily, his mouth next to her ear. “You’ve got the wrong guy, bitch. I’m not who you—”
Whatever he’d been about to say was interrupted by shouts from down the hall. Dana turned toward the sound of Shepard’s voice.
“Over here!” she screamed. “Barnes is over here!”
Barnes let go of her and tried to bolt, but Dana clung to him. He struggled against her hold, dragging her a few steps down the hall before he turned back, apparently done messing around. He drew a gun from somewhere in his cargo shorts and grabbed her by the throat. She stared down the barrel, unblinking. The only thou
ght in her head—do it! Pull the trigger! End this torture for good.
22
Red and blue lights flashed, making Dana’s head hurt even worse. The last thing she remembered was the sound of Barnes’ footsteps fleeing as the world went fuzzy around the edges before disappearing. Now she sat on the tailgate of an ambulance, her bare feet tapping on the warm Las Vegas pavement impatiently while Shepard conferred with Bishop and some other officials from the hotel.
Dana knew she was lucky to be alive, but she didn’t feel that way. Barnes was gone and so was their only lead in this case, taking her last hope of solving her parents’ murder. She closed her eyes and saw the barrel of the gun again. It frightened her that in the moments when her life should’ve flashed before her eyes, she saw nothing but emptiness. It wasn’t all that surprising. That’s what her life had been—empty. Her parents’ killer had seen to that.
Ever since she lost them, she’d lived on nothing but the hope of avenging them. Now she didn’t even have that to cling to. She’d finally come to the conclusion that if the FBI couldn’t catch some scrawny porn peddler, her chances of unraveling a nearly twenty-year-old cold case was hopeless.
Dana found herself wishing Barnes had just pulled the trigger rather than pistol whipped her. It was a morbid thought, and it frightened her. But she was desperate to make the hurt stop.
For years she’d learned to bury it just deep enough that she’d fooled herself into thinking she was living a normal life. But when Agent Shepard walked into her life with his nearly identical crime, all those painful memories came rushing back to the surface. It reminded Dana that she’d been living a lie. There was nothing normal about her or the fact that she’d dedicated her life to solving her parents’ murder. Worse than that was she might have to face the fact that maybe there was nothing to solve, and that her years of research into the occult had all been a waste of time.
That thought was even more depressing than the fact that she’d let Barnes slip through her hands. Dana tenderly pulled the ice pack from her head, feeling the egg sized welt just behind her right ear. From the corner of his eye, Shepard caught her wince and finished up his conversation.
