chorus. A chorus of the dead. And he was sure he heard it.
“Help!”
“Please.”
“For the love of God!”
“It’s the cemetery,” he said. “I’ve found the dead usually are fonder of hanging around places they enjoyed in life. We can go over there...”
“We have to wait for Dr. Lawrence to give us his list. And there’s a wall and a gate, and it looks like it’s locked.”
“Stay here. I’ll just cross over to the front,” Keenan told her. Then he spun and gave her a serious look.
“What?”
“Do not go back into that house. Do not go back in there without me!”
She nodded.
He strode quickly down the driveway, hurrying across the street.
It was a true country road: there was no traffic.
The wall that surrounded the cemetery was about waist-high; he could easily leap it. The gate advised with iron writing above the iron bars that he had come to Mount Hope. The date beneath was 1777.
He had a feeling that many graves within would be those of Revolutionary War soldiers—maybe Confederate troops and their loved ones had been buried there as well.
But a plaque advised that the cemetery was owned and operated by the Catholic Church, and that tours were allowed through arrangements with the parish. A phone number was listed as well.
Keenan had no problem with the idea of jumping the wall—easy enough to say that he had heard someone in distress from within.
But he paused outside.
The voices were gone.
“Hello?” he said quietly. “I’d like to help.”
Nothing.
Then he heard something like a snort of disgust. “Not there, genius!”
He turned, realizing that the cries they’d been hearing weren’t coming from the cemetery.
They were coming from the charming little copse next to the house. The outdoor sitting area with benches and large ceramic pots with flowering plants.
He started back across the street, and looking over at Stacey, he saw that she had made the same realization.
She was starting in that direction.
The door to the house opened, and Dr. Lawrence appeared.
“I have my list,” he told them, and he frowned, looking at the two of them.
“Thank you!” Stacey said, making a quick turn.
Dr. Lawrence handed her the list. “There it is—take it. And please! I will greatly appreciate it if you would be kind enough to get the hell off my property!”
Fifteen
To Stacey’s surprise, Keenan smiled at the doctor who was spewing anger at them now. He wanted them gone; he wanted to be left alone.
Keenan just nodded and headed to the car.
Worried, Stacey went quickly after him.
“Get in. Let’s go,” he said.
“What? We can’t! I didn’t just hear something, I saw a man. He hasn’t been dead for centuries or even decades—the T-shirt he was wearing was from a band that’s only a few years old. Keenan, there are dead people—newly dead people—back there somewhere—”
“And Dr. Lawrence asked us to get off his property. Without a search warrant, anything we find will be thrown out of court. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. Well, we are leaving. We’re driving down the street and out of his sight. I’ll call Jackson, and he’ll get a warrant.”
“Can we get a warrant at night like this? Keenan, those cries...that man...”
“Yes, the one who called me a genius for trying the cemetery first.”
“You did see him.”
“Perfectly.”
“You’ve been far more suspicious of Henry Lawrence than me,” she said. “But, Keenan, could he have buried those missing men—if they were murdered for their organs—on his own property? How stupid would that be?”
“Incredibly stupid. But he is a respected surgeon. Stacey, I don’t know. What I do know is that he wanted us gone. And that he did do transplants. He could have known Billie back during the trial. She was in the seats watching, day after day. And he was there, testifying.”
“He...can’t be such a monster,” Stacey said. “But then, someone is. We need to get back there now. But what will you say that can call for a search warrant?”
“That I heard screams.”
“They won’t find anyone. The dead were screaming.”
“Yes. But Raina didn’t go with Axel. We’re going to get her and one of her cadaver dogs down with us when we have the warrant. The dogs will hone right in on a human body. And we will find out what has gone on here.”
He pulled off the side of the road to make his calls back to headquarters.
“We have to wait,” Keenan told her when he was done. “Jackson promised that he’ll have a warrant for us within a few hours. They’ll notify the local police, and he’ll be