Into the Night(53)

Macey was having a bit of trouble looking away herself. She crouched next to the glass. She could see the old, rusty nails that had been driven into the skull. And the sign right next to the skull told about the “hate nails” on display. “Every nail is a wish for bad luck, for a grievance.” She read the description and then glanced back at Bowen. The lights were strobing, flashing right on him, and he appeared sinister as light and darkness shadowed over him.

“How long has this display been here?” Bowen asked quietly.

“Only a few months. It’s a new addition. We try to keep things fresh here at the museum.”

Macey’s gaze slid back to the skull. “This isn’t a reproduction.” Macey knew she was staring at a real human skull. The tourists who came in the museum might not understand that fact, but she did.

“Of course it’s not fake!” Now Peter sounded offended. “We are an oddities museum, not some trick shop. Our materials are all authentic.”

Macey glanced over at the mummy. “That’s not real.”

“That’s for scene setting, not an actual display.”

Her head tilted as she studied the skull once more. “How many people have been to see this skull since it was put on display?”

Bowen had stepped closer to her and the skull. Macey could almost feel him behind her.

“Thousands,” was Peter’s instant reply. “I’d have to check my receipts for an exact number. See, um, summer is actually one of our busiest seasons...and then fall...oh, man, we get so many people here because they come to the mountains to see the leaves change colors. You would not believe how many people visit this little town each year.”

She’d seen the bumper-to-bumper traffic on the little roads in Gatlinburg. Macey definitely believed.

“You remember anyone showing too much interest in the skull?” Bowen asked.

“I don’t...I don’t watch the guests, man. They can come in and wander around as much as they want. Not like I police them.”

Macey rose to her full height. “We’re going to need a list of all your employees.”

Peter gave a weak laugh. “Look, I, um, I’ve heard the tales about what’s happening in town. The story about that Pyro guy, Remus? It made the news. But I mean, you two coming in here and asking all of these questions...you don’t seriously think murders are related to the skull here, do you?”

So far, they’d managed to keep much of their investigation under wraps. But Macey knew that wouldn’t last much longer. The bodies were piling up—and, as evidenced by Peter’s words, gossip was spreading. With the police captain’s death, the whole case was going to explode soon. She knew that as soon as he got back from the Zale scene, Tucker was supposed to be organizing a press conference with the mayor. They were trying to get on top of the story, trying to control the flow of information before things got out of hand.

If it’s not too late already.

“I think we are investigating all possibilities.” And the manager definitely wasn’t going to like what she had to say next. “I’m afraid we’re also going to be confiscating the skull for the time being.”

“What?” Peter demanded. He took a lunging step toward her. “No way, no way. You can’t just take part of my exhibit.”

Bowen put his body in front of Peter’s, blocking the guy from reaching Macey. “Yes way. We can. This is a criminal investigation and you have material that may be pertinent to the investigation. So we’ll be taking that skull. We’ll be checking it for fingerprints and DNA and anything that could possibly be useful to us. And when we’re done—” his voice was flat “—the FBI will thank you for your assistance and we’ll return the skull.”

The strobe light kept flashing.

“Now, we’d really appreciate that list of your employees. Because we’re going to need to speak with them.”

Macey thought Peter might argue again. Instead, he let out a frustrated sigh. “I’ll get the list,” Peter muttered. “Excuse me.” He hurried out, leaving them near the exhibit.

Macey waited until he was gone, and then, voice deliberately void of emotion, she said, “I thought you were going to keep quiet.”

He growled. “The jerk was invading your fucking personal space, Macey.”

“I could handle him.” Her head tilted. “You’re usually a bit more tactful.”

Bowen swung toward her. “My tact is running low because the bodies are piling up.”

And because the killer was taunting him. She took a step closer to him as the lights flashed. “What did he say, Bowen?” Because he hadn’t told her. She just knew another call had come through, and then the team had leaped to action.

And Bowen...she’d seen the dark rage gathering in his eyes.

“He thinks he knows me.” Bowen’s words were low, angry. “And that he knows you.”

Her heart jerked in her chest. “I don’t understand.” Macey glanced down and saw that his hands had clenched.

“He realizes we’re lovers, Mace.” His words were a deep, hard rumble. “He said that.”

Her heart wasn’t jerking now. It was racing. “He’s trying to get into your head. He doesn’t know anything. No one does but us—”