“Thanks,” Agatha said. “You’ve been a big help.”
She ran back out to her Jeep without saying goodbye this time, and she tried to get Hank on the phone. There was no answer. She called Coil and got the same result.
“Come on, guys,” she said, speeding toward the highway.
She knew exactly where Heather was talking about. That old meatpacking plant was a hundred years old, and it was a real eyesore. She kept hearing whispers about someone like Chip and Joanna coming in to turn it into some store or park, but so far, it had just been rumor.
She kept calling Hank and Coil, but had no luck and she hit her palm on the steering wheel in frustration. She got off the highway and stayed on the access road, following the twists and turns that led to the top of the hill. There was still just enough daylight to see the meatpacking plant.
She stopped the car and got out. The plant was huge and industrial with smokestacks and areas gated off by chain-link fence. But sure enough, there was a black hearse parked off to the side closest to the bone yard along with a white van. The bone yard was where they’d dumped bones and undesirable parts of the carcass when the plant had been in operation. She remembered the black smoke that had billowed into the sky and the scary stories told about the bone yard. It was still full of bones and gravel and rocks.
Agatha took out her phone one more time and tried to call Hank and Coil, but Heather had been right. Reception wasn’t good out here. She sent a text and crossed her fingers it went through. All she needed to do was confirm that this was the same hearse that Hank’s sisters had come across that morning. Once she did, she could go back for reinforcements.
With her mind made up, she moved her Jeep off to the shoulder under some trees and set off on foot.
There were broken windows all across the front, and the chain-link fence was cut and rusted. There was thick tree cover on the south side, so she decided to stick toward the overgrown bushes and vines that had woven themselves into the fencing. That was probably all it had holding it up. Her favorite yoga pants did nothing to stop the briars from ripping across her thighs. She found a gap in the fence big enough for her to crawl through, and she looked around to make sure no one had seen her.
She was leaving the cover of the trees and going into an open, graveled area that was almost the size of a football field. To her back were the trees, to her right was a steep drop-off that led to the bone yard, and directly in front and to her left was the plant.
The incline was somewhat steep, so she tried to stay low to the ground and scoot down until she was on level ground. The dust from the gravel kicked up around her and got in her eyes, and she bit back a cry as the palm of her hand was cut on a sharp rock.
She was doing this for Deputy James. The sooner she discovered whether or not the hearse was the one in question, the sooner his killers could be brought to justice.
“You can do this, Agatha. No big deal. Check out the hearse, and then get out of Dodge.”
She wiped her bloody hand on her leggings, took a deep breath, and sprinted full out until she skidded into the side of the hearse. It was louder than she thought it would be and she ducked low by the tire to catch her breath.
Her eyes burned and she blinked rapidly to clear the dust, and she held her breath as she listened for footsteps or any other signs of life. She looked under the hearse, but there was nothing to see from that angle.
Once her heartbeat slowed and her eyes stopped watering, her other senses took over. The smell was horrendous, and she gagged slightly and clamped a hand over her mouth. She got back low to the ground and hoped the air was fresher down there. It wasn’t.
When she heard the buzzing in her ears she thought it was a sign that she was about to pass out, but then she saw them hovering around the vehicle like a cloud. Once her mind had time to clear, she understood the ramifications of the stench and blowflies. Death wasn’t unfamiliar to her.
All she had to do was pop up and look inside the hearse. She was willing to bet the stench belonged to the guy Hazel had shot.
Agatha tried to spring to her feet but was surprised at how sluggish her legs were. The low crawl and Texas heat had zapped her energy. She stumbled sideways before catching her balance, and she pressed both hands against the back window and looked through the tinted glass. She held her breath as best she could, and pressed her face against the window.
There he was. Flies covered him and his white shirt was soaked with dried blood that had turned black. He looked just as Hazel had described him—dark hair, black suit with a white shirt and black tie.
With this guy dead, that meant there were three left. Even as she had the thought, glass shattered above her head, and the sound of a rifle being fired reverberated off the concrete building.
She dropped back down to her knees, her breath labored and sweat streaming into her eyes. Her only thought was survival, and her only way out was back toward the fence where she’d come. She was a sitting duck if she stayed where she was, and her only chance was to run and pray.
She took a deep breath and launched herself toward the fence line as bullets ricocheted around her.
Chapter Seven
Hank had to admit he was relieved his sisters had checked into the resort where he and Agatha planned to hold their reception instead of hightailing it back to Philly. It was fortunate Coil was friends with the owner. It made it much easier to deal with police matters, especially after their last investigation when a celebrity chef was murdered right on the property.
“Oh, Mr. Davidson,” the manager said, scurrying over. “So nice to see you again, and we’re certainly looking forward to your reception in a couple of weeks. Your sisters checked in today, and they insisted on the Alamo Suite, which isn’t part of your room block for the wedding. I went ahead and bumped them up for you, but I told them that particular room is reserved for several days next week, so we’ll need to move them back to a regular room. I know they’re upset, but it’s completely out of our control.”
Hank sighed. “I’m sure you did more than you had to,” he said kindly. “And I appreciate you upgrading them. Please put the charges on my tab. I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Davidson,” the manager said. “Mr. Swan insisted that he take care of any bills you might incur for the wedding. It’s our pleasure after everything you did for us.”
“I appreciate that,” Hank said, already feeling the guilt creep in. “But don’t let them take advantage of you or the staff. If they think it’s a free ticket, everybody here will hate to see me coming.”
The manager smiled. “Will do, Mr. Davidson.”
“What floor is the Alamo Suite on?” Hank asked.
“Top floor,” he said. “There are only suites up there, so you’ll need a key card to access the elevator. Let me get you one.”
Hank and Coil thanked the manager again and headed up to the top floor. His sisters weren’t going to be happy to see him, but he didn’t much care.
“If we’re going to get anything out of them, you’re going to have to handle this,” Hank said. “We don’t do anything but rub each other the wrong way.”
“I’m done playing games,” Coil said. “If they don’t cooperate things are going to get unpleasant.”