Page 69 of Girl, Haunted

What a run it had been, but every story needed an ending. Cassius had written the ending to this story before he’d even penned the first chapter, because the culmination was the most important part. His magnum opus was yet to come, and he had a climax ready to shake the angels from their clouds.

Tonight, he would apply the finishing touches to his work, so that tomorrow he could present it to the world. He needed to clip headlines and photographs from newspapers and stick them next to his writings, to give the reader that immersive experience and prove that all of these tales had really happened.

So Cassius picked up his pen, found a blank sheet of paper, and wrote the words he'd been waiting to write for years.

To be published upon my death…

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Ella could hear murmurs and half-conversations coming from somewhere. Unlike her usual crashes, she was fully aware of where she was: face down on a desk with a stiff neck and no blood flowing to her legs. She'd passed out at about 4 AM this morning, and she'd been in that bizarre state between sleep and wakefulness until whatever the hell time it was now. She imagined this was how new parents slept.

‘Rough night?’ a voice asked. Ella levered herself upright. Redmond's bulk filled the doorway, his beard having somehow reached Grizzly Adams proportions in the past two days. Luca was asleep in his chair with his head lolled back. Ella had that just-licked-a-toad feeling that came from not reaching the REM phase of sleep.

‘Sorry Sheriff. Must have crashed.’ Ella shook off the cobwebs then launched a pen at her partner. ‘Hawkins!’

‘Huh? What? Look out, up in the trees.’ Luca jolted awake and gripped the edge of the desk. He blinked himself back to life and looked rapidly between Ella and Redmond. ‘Sheesh, sorry. That was scary. I was having Naam flashbacks.’

‘You weren’t in Naam.’

‘I know. That’s why it was scary. What time is it?’

Ella glanced at the clock. ‘Just after nine. I guess we passed out about four.’

‘Classic. Anything new? Please say something happened while we were asleep.’

‘Nothing positive,’ Redmond said. ‘I’ve told all of the haunt owners they’re free to open up again, so everything will be back in full swing tonight. No CCTV outside Greygate Manor. No sign of the Vic’s car, or any hits on her license plate. What about you guys?’

Ella tapped Amanda Krafton’s cell phone on the table in front of her and said, ‘I scoured this woman’s tracking app to see if it kept a log of where she went.’

‘No dice, I’m guessing.’

'No dice. No history in there. I scoured her messages for any friends that might help us out, but the woman was a pure loner. Her husband really had a death grip on her social life.'

‘Poor gal.’ Redmond looked to the ceiling and made the sign of the cross. ‘Hope she’s doing better up there.’

Small comforts, Ella thought. Whatever got people through this crazy ride, they called life and death. Shemet Luca's eyes from across the minefield of files and coffee rings. He always reminded her of a puppy when he first woke up.

‘We’re gonna need eyeballs in every haunt, all day.’

Luca stood up and stretched. ‘Sheriff, you said there are ten haunted houses around here. So far, we’ve seen six. What ones are left?’

‘There’s another four. Nightmare Factory, Murdoch Mansion, Phantasm Farm and Slaughter House Seven.’

Ella nodded, committing the names to memory. ‘They all open at once?’

‘Nah. Nightmare and Murdoch kick off around three. Phantasm and Slaughter House don't get going 'til after dark.’

Ella ran the numbers in her head. Ten haunts, spread out over fifteen hours. A hundred hidey holes in each one for a psychopath to lurk. And since this unsub prided himself on his cunning, these weren’t just bad odds, they were close to impossible.

But impossible was all they had.

She turned to Redmond. ‘Call in every warm body you got. Day shift, night shift, meter maids, crossing guards. Hell, deputize the local knitting circle if you have to.’

Redmond sighed. It was the sound of a man watching his retirement recede into the distance. ‘We're stretched thin as it is. But I'll shake the trees, see what falls out.’

‘Plain clothes, unmarked cruisers. No cars at all, ideally. If our guy spots any cop activity he’ll bail.’

‘We need officers in every house? Even the ones he’s already struck in?’

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