He sounded rapturous. “Something immense. Something spectacular.”
“Could you be a little more specific?”
“It starts tonight. The new offerings will be chosen. And it ends as the prophet would’ve wanted it.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“The end of the world, Susan. The end of this world. The start of the world to come.”
And on that note, he hung up.
“We have to put our plans on hold,” I told Patrick. “I mean, for the-the-you know.” I stuttered like a stupid schoolgirl. “We should go on patrol. Even if it’s hopeless and futile. We should try. Tell Granger to get every man he has out on the street.”
“You think Edgar is going to do something tonight.”
I felt a chill spread through my entire body. “I’m certain of it. I don’t know what. But he’s starting something. Something new, something horrible. Something worse than anything he’s done before.”
Judy and JJ and Tiffany waited until they were sure no one was watching, then tiptoed past the PARDON THE INCONVENIENCE cones and slipped behind the door.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” JJ squealed.
“Me neither,” Tiffany said breathlessly. “Wait till we tell the rest of the squad. They’ll die!”
The three girls clung to the shadows draping the walls, then crept through the cobwebs and pumpkins and papier-mâché ghosts.
“Do you think he’s been here?” Judy whispered.
“You know he has,” JJ replied. “I mean, how could he not? That’s where they found the first one. It’s probably why they’ve shut it down.”
“Shhhh,” Tiffany said. “We can’t stay long. Mrs. Cross will miss us. I just wanted a little souvenir. Maybe get my picture taken in the graveyard.”
They were wearing matching uniforms, V-neck sweaters and short pleated skirts, both in orange and black. They were all three teenagers, all three blond, all decked out in makeup and sports bras.
“All right,” Tiffany said, passing a palm-size metallic object to JJ. “Here’s my Advantix. Take me on the porch with the graveyard in the background. I’m going to try to look scared. Does this look scared?”
“More like you’re having an orgasm.”
Tiffany knocked her on the shoulder. “You whoredog.”
“I’m not a whoredog.”
“Are.”
Not much of the haunted house façade was left. The hotel appeared to be in the process of creating a new decorating scheme.
“Stop!” she hissed. “Did you hear something?”
They sneaked back into the shadows, stopped, listened intently. JJ wished she had thought to bring a flashlight as well as a camera. The atmospheric darkness, while useful for avoiding detection, became oppressive when she suspected someone else was in the room.
Suddenly, just at the edge of her peripheral vision, Tiffany saw a flicker of movement.
“Over there!” she hissed.
The others turned just in time to see the approach of a slight dark figure, hair wild, arms waving, running toward them. “Nevermore!” he bellowed.
The girls screamed. “It’s him! It’s him!”
One after the other they ran toward the front door-only to find it securely locked. They pounded with their fists, but it would not budge, and no one came to their aid.
They could see him more clearly now. He was wearing a black waistcoat with a ribbon tie. He had a small mustache and a furrowed brow and eyes that peered at them like daggers. He spoke again, an evil smile playing on his lips. “ ‘Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary…’ ”
“Help! Please! Someone!”
The dark figure held his arms over his head like a monster and shouted: “Boo!”
And then he began to laugh.
A moment or two later, the girls stopped pounding. They stared at the formerly menacing figure, now prostrate on the floor, giggling at them.
“S-S-So-you-thought-” It was difficult for him to speak, he was laughing so hard. “You thought I was the guy?”
JJ felt foolish and annoyed. “Well, you look like him.”
“And how would you know what he looks like?”
“You’ve got that whole Poe thing going on.”
“Ah. That would be a clever disguise.” He pushed himself up off the floor, brushing the seat of his pants. “My name is Elliot Barnes. I’m an actor. I used to work here till they shut down the Poe display. And you are…?”
With some reluctance, JJ introduced herself and her two friends. “We’re here for a cheerleading competition. We had some spare time, and we’re not old enough to gamble, so we thought…”
“That you’d come see where the first body was found? The parking lot where Dr. Spencer was kidnapped?” He shook his head. “Rather morbid bit of spectating.”
“But this story is huge! And it started right here,” Tiffany said. “It’s all they talk about on the news!”
“And isn’t that a sorry statement. On a slow news week a celebrity hangnail could command national attention.”
JJ cleared her throat. “Can you tell us why they’re shutting down this room? I think it’s kinda cool.”
“Well, after the body was found here, it seemed in bad taste, even by Vegas standards. There was some thought of simply eliminating the graveyard, but now, with all the attention this case has been getting, Poe has lost his fun factor. We’re going to remodel the room. This haunted house will become the cathedral Notre Dame de Paris. Should be ready by Halloween.”
“Bitchin’.”
The man stopped, tilted his head, looked at her strangely. “Would you mind saying that again?”
JJ gave him a look. “Why?”
“Humor me.”
“Oooo-kayyy.” She glanced at her friends and shrugged. “Bitchin’.”
“Perfect delivery.” He snapped his fingers. “Has anyone ever told you that you resemble Britney Spears?”
“Me?” She pressed her hand against her chest. “No.”
“I’m surprised. Are you familiar with our Legends show? It’s an impersonator gig. They’re all the rage right now-hotter than the buffets. Everybody’s got one, but ours is the best. We’ve been looking for a Britney Spears.”
“Serious?”
“Dead. If you’re interested, I could set up an audition.”