Born on the 4th of July - Heather Graham Pozzessere Page 0,22

of the niches . . . hurry, I’ve learned his footsteps, I . . .”

Angela slid into one of the niches, wincing once more as she shoved the resting dead aside and grabbed at bits of shroud to cover herself.

This one was so decayed that she could do little, but she inched as close as she could to the tunnel wall, sought again for a bone as a weapon, and lay still.

She could hear the man muttering to himself.

“Stupid bitch, stupid bitch . . . she left the office! We could have held them off, we could have given them the footage of the entrance and exits—that would have been nothing! Merissa, you idiot! Where the hell are you?”

He suddenly stopped. “Where are our cows?” he muttered.

A flashlight went zooming around. Angela held still.

And then it settled on her.

She had no choice. This time, she was wielding an arm bone.

She was able to slam it in the man’s face, but not hard enough to knock him out.

“Bitch!” he screamed.

But he didn’t go down.

Nor did he drop the Smith and Wesson pistol he was carrying—and aimed at her.

“You want the kid to die, too?” he asked her.

She’d lost; she’d fought so hard. She had her ghostly help, and even as she stared at the man who had kidnapped her, she heard Jennie softly sobbing.

“Sir, you do know now, don’t you, this place will soon crawl with FBI and police officers?” she said evenly. “You might want to cut your losses.”

“Well, guess what, bitch? As soon as I get you out of here and collect my other brood mare, these tunnels will explode. And we’ll be long gone,” he said. “Now, you can keep being a royal pain in the ass and I’ll just shoot you here and now and accept collateral damage. Or you can keep that baby alive. Your choice.”

Angela shook her head. “I don’t think you understand what you’ve done. I think you underestimate the love of husbands and fathers—and that some of those husbands and fathers have more power than you might be expecting.”

He laughed. “You’re talking about that idiot tapping on coffins up in the Rosser mausoleum? Or the idiot kid who thinks he knows everything?”

“Not an idiot. That kid is my son, and you’d be shocked at what he knows,” Angela said.

He stepped forward, place the gun to her temple.

“Dead now, kid dies, too. We walk, walk ahead of me.”

There was no choice. Angela turned and started to walk.

At first, she had no clue of what was happening.

She heard Jennie cry, “Hallelujah!”

She felt a rush of wind.

Then she heard the man who had held the gun on her let out a startled grunt and then a shriek of pain.

She turned around.

Jackson was there with Cameron Adair. He had the man down on the ground, and he was holding him in place and reaching in his pocket for plastic cuffs.

He looked at her anxiously. “Are you all right?”

She nodded weakly. And as she did so, she saw Adam, Corby, Jon Dickson, and Josh were coming around the other bend. Jon had his Glock drawn, ready, in case they had met with any surprises.

“Mom!” Corby cried her name in anguish and came rushing to her.

She wrapped him in her arms and looked at the others. There wasn’t time to express her appreciation that their team was incredible.

“I’m fine,” she said, “and we’re not far from Annie. We need to get back to her quickly. I think we must get her to a hospital as soon as possible. Oh, and Merissa Hatfield, this guy’s accomplice, is tied up with a belt near her.”

Jon Dickson nodded and hurried on through, followed by the ghost of Cameron Adair—who paused long enough to acknowledge the ghost of Jennie Wilder. “Thank you! We haven’t met but I know you helped. Thank you.”

Jennie couldn’t reply; he was gone, following after Jon Dickson. But she looked at Corby and Josh and Jackson and Adam, frowning.

“You’re dead!” she said to Josh.

“Yes, I am.”

“They all see you—”

“My dad sees just me. But Corby here sees you just fine, as does his dad—that’s Jackson. Corby’s dad, and the baby’s dad, too.”

“Oh!” Jennie said. She looked at Corby, and her smile deepened. “Young sir, you have a kick-ass mom. We didn’t say that back in my day, of course. But I love the expression. Kick-ass!”

They all dared to laugh softly.

Then, with the man on the floor cuffed and groaning, Jackson stepped over to Corby and Angela and took them