Tomb's Tale

by Amanda McKinney

  “Will do.”

  Max stepped forward. “We’ll pull the van around back, and I’ll have a few folks taking the bones out over the next few hours, if that’s alright.”

  “Of course. Take as long as you need.”

  After walking the men to the door, and thanking them one last time, Roxy turned to her sisters.

  “We need to have a team meeting, right now.”

  They nodded.

  Ace glanced toward the dining room, which they’d turned into the main conference room. “There’s too much foot traffic for the meeting room.”

  She nodded. “Agreed. The library. Ten minutes.”

  Five minutes later, Roxy stepped into the expansive library enclosed with stone walls that shelved thousands and thousands of books. She walked to the windows and yanked the tassels that pulled back the heavy velvet tapestry, but frowned when the dreary day outside only partially illuminated the room. She grabbed an armful of candles, walked to the seating area and arranged them on a coffee table that sat on a vintage china rug surrounded by brown leather couches and lounge chairs, in the center of the room. She set her notebook on the table and sank into one of the plush chairs.

  Damn, she needed a coffee.

  Or hell, a drink.

  She glanced around the room, focusing on the dark shadows from the candles dancing on the walls. It was as if ghosts were following her everywhere she went lately. She looked at the antique clock on the wall—almost one in the afternoon. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and thought about all she needed to get done.

  As she opened her eyes, Ace, followed by Dixie, Raven, Scar, Fiona, and Harley walked into the room. She straightened, smiled.

  Time to be cool, calm and in control.

  Ace looked around the dark room and shook his head. “If you were going for ‘horror movie’, you nailed it.”

  She smirked. “I thought I’d stick with the theme of the last few days.”

  Harley dropped her weight into the couch. “What? You mean evil witches, secret tombs, and skeletons? Too bad it’s not Halloween.”

  Ace sat next to her. “It’s always Halloween around here.”

  Scar and Dixie sat on either side of Roxy, Fiona across, and the meeting began.

  “Okay, guys, first and foremost, I want to make it clear that if anyone needs time off, or just need to get away from everything for a bit, I completely understand. Go somewhere. Unplug, clear your head. Drink your ass off. Whatever you need to do. Charge it to the company, no questions asked.” She looked around the room.

  Fiona leaned forward. “I’m here. Not going anywhere.”

  Ace nodded. “Me, too.”

  In perfect unison, Harley and Raven said, “Here.”

  Scar looked at her and smiled. “We’re all-in, boss.”

  Dixie kicked her ankle over her knee. “Assuming we get the damn electricity back on, I’m here.”

  Roxy smiled and nodded, feeling like a proud mama. The members of Black Rose would rather spend their time solving mysteries than doing anything else in the world. Just like her. She glanced at the doorway to make sure no one was lingering, then leaned forward.

  “Alright, guys, each of you have now seen the tomb downstairs and heard what Max and Dr. Prescott had to say. We’re working on the assumption that a doctor by the name of Leland Richmond and his wife, Cecilia were murdered around forty years ago.” She updated them on the call with Zander, then turned to Ace. “I need you to dig up absolutely everything you can on Leland and Cecilia. Look at family members, even distant. Work associates. I want to know everything about these people.”

  “No problem.”

  “Perfect.” She grabbed the vial from her pocket and pulled out the paper. “I also need you to figure out what the hell this is.”

  He plucked it from her hand, and everyone leaned in. “This was found in the vial?”

  “Yes. Maybe a formula for a drug or something.”

  “Looks like it.”

  Scar looked at Roxy. “Why didn’t you tell Max or Dr. Prescott about it?”

  The candles popped and hissed in front of them.

  “The vial is irrelevant to them at this point. They just need to tell me the story of the bones. We’ll figure out the mystery of the vial… which reminds me, I think it’s best to keep this a secret for now—the vial.”

  Scar nodded.

  Ace took out his cell phone, snapped a picture of the paper and handed it back to her. “I’ll research it.”

  “Get it done quick. If it gets out that we’ve been operating over a tomb, the gossip is going to go crazy. We don’t need that, for ourselves or our business.”

  Raven leaned back. “We’re already catching enough crap for finding Krestel.”

  Harley nodded. “Some are saying the town is cursed and it’s our fault. Saying we should’ve just left her alone.”

  Dixie blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean to find Krestel. She fell into my damn lap.”

  Roxy looked at her. “Yeah, and freed Krestel’s sister who had been held captive for forty years. This is not your fault, Dix.” She turned to the group. “That brings us to the second thing we need to discuss—Krestel.”

  Just then, a swift breeze blew out the candles.

  “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Ace pushed off the couch, grabbed the lighter and lit them again. “Krestel’s theatrics are starting to grind on my damn nerves.”

  Fiona glanced around. “Every door in the house is open. Let’s not assume every creepy thing that happens is Krestel.”

  “Hey, assuming that she doesn’t exist is what got us into this damn mess in the first place.”

  “Okay guys, that’s enough. Focus. We’re operating now as if she absolutely does exist. Does anyone feel differently?” She looked around the room as everyone shook their heads. “Okay, and at this point…” She felt her pulse pick up. “It’s safe to assume that she does, indeed, have her sights set on us.”

  “To destroy us.”

  She felt a flush of anger rise up her neck. Cool it, Roxy. She paused. “So what do we do, guys?”

  “Destroy her first.”

  She nodded. “And how do we do that?”

  Fiona scooted to the edge of her seat, rested her elbows on her knees, and Roxy saw the fire of strength and determination in her green eyes. “We find the Great Shadow Book of Secrets.”

  “Exactly. Does everyone agree here?”

  Nods around the room.

  Scar began picking her nails, a habit of hers when she was in deep thought. “We have to find her, first.”

  “Once we find the book, we find her.”

  Dixie tapped her foot on the floor, no doubt trying to release the adrenaline she was feeling—they all were feeling—from talking about the witch. “Right. Either the book will lead us to her, or once she knows we have it, she’ll come after us to get it back.”

  “Exactly.”

  A wicked smile crossed Ace’s face. “Hell of a plan.” He started to stand.

  “One last thing.” Roxy narrowed her eyes, set her jaw. “I will take lead on this, on finding the book. I don’t want anyone else working on this.” She looked at Fiona. “As my assistant, Fiona will help as needed, and Ace will provide information as needed. But that’s it.”

  Scar frowned. “No Roxy—

  “I’m not asking, Scar.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Sprinkles dotted her windshield as Roxy shoved her car into park. The grey morning had faded into an even gloomier afternoon, and now, the rain that had been promised by the weatherman was kicking off the evening.

  It had been a hell of a day between dealing with the house and catching up on the hundred other cases she had going. Weston had sent his team to finish their investigation, and not to anyone’s surprise, they were unable to determine what had caused the fire.

  Shocker.

  Now it was almost seven o’clock in the evening, and instead of heading home, Roxy made a detour to Grave
s Laboratory to see if there were any developments on the “creepy corpse case,” as the Black Rose team had lovingly named it.

  She slid into her leather jacket, grabbed her bag and got out of the car. Wind spun her long, black hair across her face as she shut the door. Spring was definitely in the air, well, spring storms were, at least. After spitting the hair out of her mouth, she started up the stone steps that led to the sprawling glass building ahead of her.

  Not only was Graves one of the most prestigious forensics labs in the world, but it was also a marvel to look at, with its sleek, modern design, marble floors, and state-of-the-art equipment.

  She pushed through the tall glass doors.

  “Good evening, Miss Knight.” The security guard tipped his hat.

  “Evening, Thomas. How’s the wife?”

  “Doing better. Should be back on her feet next week. Back surgery is no fun.”

  She thought of the persistent ache in her back. “No, I can’t imagine. You let me know if you need anything.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Roxy! What brings you here this late?”

  Roxy turned to see April, the busty, red-headed receptionist smiling from behind the computer screen across the lobby.

  She made her way past the sparkling fountain to the front desk. “Hey, April. What are you still doing here?”

  April glanced at the clock. “Max has me running around like a crazy woman today. ‘Bout to close up.” She grinned. “I’ve got a hot date tonight.”

  “Yeah? Who’s the lucky man?”

  April cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “A fireman.”

  Her stomach fell to her feet, followed by total shock at her immediate reaction to the possibility that April was talking about Weston Cage. Why the hell did she care? She cleared her throat and shifted her weight. “A fireman, huh? What’s his name?”

  “Jimmy Campbell.”

  Her heart started beating again. She smiled, bigger than she probably should have. “That’s exciting. I hope it goes well.”

  “Me, too. I hear firemen make incredible lovers.”

  “Well, then, maybe he’s met his match.” She winked.

  “Damn straight.” April smirked, then her face dropped. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I forgot for a moment. Your house—I was so sorry to hear about what happened yesterday. Is everything okay? Gosh, how selfish of me… I go off about a stupid date.”

  So the news was definitely out—great. Not that she was surprised. Devil’s Den was a small town where gossip and hearsay was part of daily conversation. “We’re all okay. Thanks for asking.”

  “What caused it? Do they know?”

  “Ah,” she paused, buying some time while she came up with something other than ‘a witch’. “I think a gas leak in the kitchen, maybe.” Time to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m here to see if Max, or Dr. Prescott is still here?”

  “Oh. Um, let me check. Hang on.”

  As April typed away on her computer, Roxy looked around her messy desk. Two empty Starbucks cups sat next to a Kit-Kat wrapper. Pens, notebooks, sticky-notes… a blueprint? Her eyes widened as she peered down at the paper.

  “Yep. Looks like they’re still here. Down in the lab, turn left off the elevator. Might want to grab one of the courtesy coats. It’s as cold as ice down there.”

  Roxy tore her eyes away from the desk and stared at her for a moment and then said, “Thanks, April.” She narrowed her eyes. “As always, it was a pleasure.”

  “Hopefully I’ll hear those words from fireman Campbell later, too.” She chuckled and pressed a button on the desk. “Door’s unlocked.”

  “Thanks.”

  She took one last glance at the blueprint, then pushed through the heavy door. She yanked out her cell phone and opened a new text.

  Ace, do you know April, the receptionist at Graves?

  A few seconds passed. Yep, had a memorable night with her a few years back.

  You’re such a horn-dog. I need you to look into her.

  Already did, like I said. A few years ago.

  You’re sick. No, I need you to do a write-up on her. Her interests, family, social media, things like that.

  Typical write-up, got it. Why?

  Because I need to know why the hell she has a blueprint of the layout of our office on her desk.

  What the fuck?

  Exactly. Get on it. Call our architect and see if anyone asked for it. And give me an update on the corpse case in an hour.

  You got it, boss.

  Thanks.

  Hey—don’t shoot me but you need some rest.

  Bullet’s on its way.

  Love ya.

  Love ya.

  She slid the phone into her pocket and stepped inside the elevator.

  She frowned, staring at her reflection in the shiny doors.

  Why the hell would the receptionist at Graves Laboratory have a blueprint of their office? It made no sense. She couldn’t think of a single reason why April would need that information. She was the front lobby receptionist for a forensics lab—where did she even get it?

  Her stomach clenched with nerves—an instinct that something was up.

  The doors slid open, and a rush of ice-cold air perfumed with chemicals slapped her in the face. She zipped up her coat and stepped out of the elevator. The hallway was dark, with only the dim glow of the after hours lights running along the floor.

  She turned left and began making her way down the long hallway.

  It was dead silent, which seemed fitting considering she was walking past dozens of frozen dead bodies. She glanced in the window of each lab room as she passed—silver tables, computers, knives, tools, weird machines that looked like robots.

  It was creepy as hell.

  She rounded a corner and a pool of light spilled onto the hallway from the last laboratory on the left. That must be them.

  She briskly walked to the window and glanced in. Dressed in white lab coats, Max and Dr. Prescott hovered over a silver table topped with a skeleton.

  She rapped on the door before pushing it open.

  Max turned. “Hey, Roxy. Come on in.” With a gloved hand, Max motioned her inside.

  “Getting your hands a little dirty, Max?”

  He smiled. “It’s not very often I get to look at two full skeletons. I mean, we’ve got every single bone here. Very cool.”

  Dr. Prescott set down a small pair of tweezers, looked over his shoulder and smiled, emphasizing the tiny, yet charming lines around his brown eyes. “Miss Knight, good to see you. Find more bodies in another tunnel or something?”

  She laughed. “No. Two is about all I can take right now. Which one are you working on?”

  “The male.”

  “The tall one is definitely a male?”

  “Yes, you can tell by the pelvic bone,” he pointed to the area. “The tall one is male, and the shorter one is female.”

  She glanced at the second skeleton on the next table.

  Dr. Leland Richmond and his wife, Cecilia.

  Dr. Prescott nodded toward a box of gloves next to a gigantic fluorescent light. “Gloves are over there if you came to get your hands dirty.”

  “Actually, I was just on my way home and wanted to stop by to see how you were coming along. If you had any information yet.”

  Max grinned and looked at Dr. Prescott. “The Knight sisters have many amazing qualities Benedict, but patience is not one of them.”

  “That is perfectly fine. I don’t know many private investigators who are blessed with that personality trait.” He turned and faced her. “Based on the time I’ve had with them so far, I’ve determined sex, as I just told you, and…” He walked around to the far side of the table and pointed at the jaw of the skull. “Based on the wearing and bone loss of the teeth, and combining that with ossification of the bones overall, I can determine that both bodies—

  “Victims.”

  He smiled and glanced at Max. “Ah, the patience.” He looked bac
k at her. “We’ll get to that in a minute. As I was saying, both bodies appear to be around sixty years old, possibly right at sixty.”

  “What about cause of death?”

  “You’ve got a good eye, Miss Knight. Based on my analysis so far, your use of the word ‘victim’ is fitting for these two bodies.”

  “You’ve confirmed they were murdered?”

  He picked up a silver tool and motioned her to join him at the skull. “The cause of death for the male was blunt force trauma to the head. As you can see here…” He pointed to the two-inch fracture on the side of the skull that she had noted when she first discovered the bones. “When trauma occurs long before the time of death, healing can be detected around the wound. The bone might even fuse back together. However, as you can see here, no such healing occurred. Therefore, this blow to the head, especially considering its location, was very likely the cause of death.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the skull. Although the news didn’t surprise her, it was still jarring to hear it confirmed.

  Who had done this? Why?

  “Her wheels are already turning, Benedict.” Max grinned.

  She looked at the doctor. “Any other injuries? I noticed the ribs…”

  “Yes, you’re correct there as well. Five ribs are fractured. Everything else seems to be intact, as far as I can see at this moment.”

  “What about the woman?”

  They turned and stepped over to the second table. “I haven’t gotten as far with her, but,” he clicked on a bright light and lowered it above the torso. “See this tiny mark on the bottom rib there?”

  She leaned in, squinted. “Barely.”

  “It’s possible this is a tool mark.”

  Her eyebrows tipped up. “From a blade? From a knife?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Could it be from animals. Mice, rats or whatever?”

  “No. It’s too smooth of a mark. No teeth marks. My initial guess is a knife. And based on its location, it very likely could have caused her death. She bled to death."

  She glanced up at the skull, and he cut her off. “To answer the question you’re about to ask, no, no trauma to the head. Also, I noticed that she did not have children. FYI.”

  She straightened, put her hands on her hips. “You’ve done a lot of work since leaving the house.”