Page 126 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

There was more pounding and frantic breathing on the tape. Mewling. Crying.

Nikki’s skin crawled and she began to cry, tears running from her eyes.

A horn blared. Startled, Nikki saw that the light had changed. She punched the accelerator, tires squealing through the intersection, barely noticing the trucker who held out his hands as if asking her what she was thinking. Her concentration was on the horrific noises, the scraping and mewling and sheer panic emanating from the speakers. She could barely maneuver her hatchback into the next alley.

Trembling, she threw her little car into park.

Tears rained from her eyes as the Subaru idled. The hideous clawing, banging and crying poured from the speakers.

“Help me…please…Andrew? Nikki? Someone…I’ll do anything…where am I?” Nikki began to shake uncontrollably. Simone was crying, whispering incoherently, but still Nikki heard her despair. Her fear. Her abject horror.

“Oh, no…” Nikki whispered to the empty car. “No! No!” Angrily, she pounded an impotent fist on the steering wheel.

There was a gap in the tape, silence for a while, then Simone’s voice again. Frailer now, fading. Gasping. “I can’t see…please, let me out,” she pled and Nikki squeezed her eyes shut as if she could block out the ghastly image of Simone lying in a coffin somewhere, no doubt wedged onto the top of a decomposing dead person while the air slowly seeped out of the tomb. “…Oh, God, help me…”

“I wish I could,” Nikki said, knowing in her heart it was too late.

A tortured scream ripped through the car’s interior, a shriek of fear so horrifying Nikki knew it would be with her for the rest of her life. She threw open the door and retched at the side of the alley, all the while hearing the last pitiful sounds coming from the stereo.

As she straightened in the seat and wiped her sleeve over her mouth, she closed her eyes. Imagined the horror her friend had experienced.

“Please God…don’t let me die alone…”

A scream of pure agony ripped through the speakers and Nikki sobbed out loud.

“No…no, please, Simone…”

She strained to listen, but heard nothing more.

Just the cold hiss of the empty tape.

CHAPTER 27

“Trouble at Peltier Cemetery,” Morrisette said as Reed climbed out of his Caddy. She was standing in the department parking lot, the driver’s door to a cruiser open and waiting, taking a final drag on her cigarette, Cliff Siebert ready to ride shotgun. At the news, Reed tensed. Imagined the victim was Simone Everly. Knew Nikki would be destroyed. “A grave disturbed last night.”

“Damn.” Reed’s jaw ached.

“Hey! He’s not on the case,” Siebert reminded her sullenly. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on a minute, bucko.” Morrisette looked pissed and tired as hell as she flicked the remains of her filter tip into a puddle where it sizzled and died. This case was getting to her, to them all. “We’ve got a little time,” she flung over her shoulder. “Dispatch has already sent a car and Diane Moses’s people are on their way, right?”

“Yeah, but this is our case.”

“We’re going. Just give me a minute.” Morrisette slammed the cruiser’s driver’s-side door shut as the younger cop slid into the passenger seat. “Overanxious idiot,” she muttered under her breath as she and Reed met. “Look, we don’t know yet, but our best guess is that Simone Everly is in that coffin. You might want to come along and then, if so, contact Nikki Gillette yourself. I know they were close and oh, hell, I gotta go, but I laid into her pretty bad last night.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“What are the odds that it’s someone else?” Morrisette asked.

Reed didn’t want to think. “I’ll meet you there,” he said as his cell phone beeped. Caller ID indicated Nikki was on the line.

Or someone who’d taken her phone.

His gut clenched. “Reed,” he answered as Morrisette climbed into the cruiser and wheeled out of the lot.

“Thank God. Pierce…oh…he contacted me,” she said, her words barely gasps.

“Who?” But he knew. He was already on his way to the El Dorado.

---