In the Worst Way (Mercy Watts Mysteries Book 5) (35 page)

Dr. Watts gave us detailed directions on how to get out of Flincher’s domain and I was determined to follow them, but then I didn’t. Tiny led the way. He actually remembered the directions. I had to put them in my phone. We went up the stairs, took a right and a left, went through more storage rooms, all with questionable smells and found the exit. It didn’t lead into the garage but outside into the continuing downpour.
 

Tiny grabbed the door knob and I snagged his sleeve. “Do you hear that?”
 

“What?”
 

“That racket?”
 

We both stopped and listened. There was definitely a racket coming from a room behind us, a metallic banging and grinding.
 

“What do you suppose that is?” I asked.
 

Tiny shook his head. “I really don’t want to know. We got to follow orders and go through this door now.”
 

“They weren’t orders,” I said. “They were directions. It’s not the same thing.”
 

“In this case, it is. We got to get out of here.”
 

“Puhlease.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you can take Flincher.”
 

“Flincher, yeah, but who knows whatall that old ghoul has hidden in this place.”
 

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” I asked.
 

“Are you kidding me, girl?”
 

I slipped past his bulk so fast he wasn’t able to catch hold of me. “Come on. Just a peek.”
 

The noise was easy to follow, even over Tiny’s muttering about ghouls and tempting fate. Normally, I would say I was tempting fate but that time, no. I had a feeling that noise was important. It was a Tommy Watts kind of feeling, the first one I’d had since getting to the castle. Something wasn’t right. I had to find out what was making that noise.

I followed the trail to a set of double doors, once painted a sickly lime green but now half the paint had chipped off leaving bare metal. The noise was coming from inside and it was louder, not loud but just louder.
 

“Ladies first,” I said, turning the grimy knob.

Tiny grabbed my arm, but I opened the door anyway. A rush of hot air flooded out with the faint smell of something burning. Tiny needn’t have bothered. Flincher wasn’t in there. The room was a large open area with a concrete floor and various types of equipment. In the center of the room was a metal box about seven feet tall and six feet wide. It had a door in the center and a control panel on the side. It reminded me of a pizza oven, except it wasn’t pizza that Flincher was cooking in there.
 

The noise came from another piece of equipment off to the side, a weird stainless steel contraption. I had no clue what it was so I took pictures of the room. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
 

“Thank god,” said Tiny and we hoofed it back to the exit.
 

I ran out into the rain and around the building to the garage. Phelong and Gerry were in the squad car with the motor running. I hesitated when I touched the rear door handle.
 

“What?” asked Tiny, flinging open his door.
 

“We’re leaving Dr. Watts here alone with him.”
 

“She does it all the time.” He got in and so did I but not without feeling bad about it.
 

Phelong peeled out of the garage and I caught a glimpse of Flincher in the doorway watching and a shiver went down my back as I laid down.
 

“What’s wrong?” asked Gerry, turning in his seat.
 

I bit my lip. “This is a small town so you’d know if anyone died recently, right?”
 

“Sure.”

“Did anyone? Die, I mean.”
 

“No. Why?”
 

I looked at the pictures on my phone with my hands shaking a bit. “Because Flincher cremated someone today.”
 

Chapter Seventeen

I CALLED DR. Watts to tell her about Flincher and the cremation. I wanted her to get out of the funeral home. She didn’t. I knew she wouldn’t. My ex-grandmother wasn’t a woman to abandon her work for anything less than a tsunami.
 

We drove back to the castle in silence. Phelong and Gerry were visibly shaken. When we stopped in front of the great hall, Phelong asked softly over his shoulder, “What should we do now?”
 

“Go home and sleep,” I said. “I’ll need you tomorrow.”
 

Both sets of the cops’ shoulders relaxed.
 

“Okay,” said Gerry. “We’ll call you if we hear anything about that body of Flincher’s.”
 

I said that would be a good idea although we all knew they wouldn’t hear anything. That body was the body from the woods and we all knew it.
 

My phone vibrated. It was Dr. Watts texting me that she’d confronted Flincher. My stomach flipped over while I waited for the next text.
 

Confront Flincher? No! Terrible idea! Run away!

She finally texted again, “Claimed dog found dead in the woods. Testing equipment. Liar.”
 

“No kidding,” I said and sent her the equipment picture, asking what it was.
 

“What is it?” asked Tiny.
 

“Hold on.”
 

Dr. Watts sent another text. “Processor. Crushes bones.”
 

Sorry I asked.

Dr. Watts texted again. “F made call. Don’t know to who.”
 

I texted back that she should get out of there. She sent me an emoticon of tongue sticking out so I guess not.
 

Tiny poked me. “What?”
 

The arched black walnut doors opened and John walked out, his eyes on me and I knew. I knew like I knew my name. He did it.
 

“Mercy?”
 

“It’s fine.” I got out and went to John before Tiny could follow.
 

“I assume you have the cause of death,” said John.
 

“Who was it?” I hissed.
 

“Your investigation is going slower than I’d hoped. Your victim is Cherie Marin, mother of two, mid-forties.”
 

“Not her. The person Flincher cremated this morning.”
 

His eyes fluttered in mock surprise. “Someone else died. I wasn’t aware.”
 

“Yes you were because you killed them.”
 

“Why would you ever say such a thing? I’m just a spa owner, a friend of your father.”
 

Tiny came up behind me and I stomped by John, saying under my breath, “Like hell.”
 

I charged through the door, hung a right and was lost in three minutes flat, a new record.
 

“Mercy!” Tiny jogged up behind me, huffing and puffing. “What did John say?”
 

“Nothing,” I said, spinning around. It’s amazing how a place so unique could be without landmarks. All the armor looked alike to me, not to mention the paintings of aristocrats looking down their long noses. “Which way?”
 

“To where.” He bent over, putting his hands on his knees, and I felt instantly guilty.
 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run.” I rubbed his broad back.
 

“It’s…okay.”

“I need to see Uncle Morty about a phone call.”
 

Tiny groaned as he straightened up. “What phone call?”
 

I told him what Dr. Watts said and he reflexively grabbed my arm. “I’m fine,” I said.
 

“Now Flincher knows that you know what he did. I got to call your dad.”
 

“Flincher won’t do anything. The evidence is gone. You can’t get a cause of death or DNA after a cremation. I don’t think you can even tell if the remains are human. It’s over.” The words hurt my throat to say them.
 

“It ain’t over,” said Tiny.
 

“How do you figure that? We’ve got no body and we’re never going to.”
 

“Somebody’s gonna notice their loved one is missing.”
 

“Do you know how many people are reported missing each year?” I asked.
 

Tiny shrugged. “Nah. Do you?”
 

“No, but I bet Uncle Morty does. He’s weird that way.”
 

“He’s weird in many ways.”
 

“Agreed but he’s useful. First, we need to know for sure who Flincher called. If it’s John, that cinches it.”
 

Tiny directed me down a hall filled with still lifes of fruit and dead birds. I knew I’d never been down it before. How many ways were there to get to the Tudor Tower?
 

We went through a maze of halls and ended up at the foot of the Tudor stairs right where we should be. I put a foot on the bottom step and touched the oversized newel post. The top sported a carved globe with the world as Henry VIII would’ve seen it, including all the little details. There were borders and dots with the capitals like London and Paris. The details were amazing. They told you what time period you were looking at if you took the time to notice.
 

“You know,” I said, “we can still figure it out.”
 

“What?” asked Tiny.

 
“Who was cremated?”
 

“By looking at missing reports?”
 

“No. By looking at us,” I said.

“Us? What did we do?” he asked.

“Nothing, but we’re here. John and Leslie are here. The teams are here. “Whoever it was was trying to get in. They were shot through the fence and disposed of. It’s not someone local, like some kid pulling a prank, so they were from away. Who would be trying to get in here and why would John kill them? This joint is pretty secure. Why bother?”

“It wasn’t secure that night,” said Tiny. “All those cameras were broken.”
 

I smiled and crossed my arms. “Do you really think they’d let multiple cameras be down? I don’t think so. John saw them on camera, trying to shimmy up a tree. Then he went out and shot them. It’s almost like they were set up with those tree branches left hanging over. That’s like an invitation to try and breach the fence.”

“What about Cherie?” Tiny asked.
 

“What about her? I doubt our new victim would’ve climbed over the fence, attacked Cherie, and then waited around to strangle her before going back over. It’s totally separate. Dr. Watts knows something about John and Leslie. They are not on the up and up. Cherie wasn’t Leslie’s first body.”
 

“Cherie’s the victim you’re supposed to be working on.”
 

I waved him off. “I will. That’s why we’re going to see Morty. That and the phone call Flincher made.”
 

I found Morty’s door all by myself. Not difficult since there were only two on the floor. But still, if anyone could’ve gotten lost it would be me. I knocked on the extra wide door. No answer. More knocking and still no answer.
 

“Let me.” Tiny banged on the door as only a giant can and twenty seconds later Uncle Morty opened the door, red-faced and yelling, “What the hell are you bothering me for? Idiots! I’m working!”
 

“On my case, I hope,” I said, plenty loud to get his attention.
 

“What case? I got a dragon battle going on.” He pointed to his temple. “I’m gonna lose it.”
 

I pushed my way past him. “Oh please. You can write a dragon battle in your sleep. It’s your thing.”
 

Uncle Morty preened, smoothing his stained and rather smelly sweats. “I’m good, but you got to work at it.”
 

“You make it look easy,” I said, smiling to myself. He was such a diva.