Her?

  I whipped back around.

  “I’ve removed her,” the albino said.

  “You can’t just take her.”

  Her who? My heart fluttered. Oh, Jesus. Don’t let him be talking about Nat.

  The albino shrugged, his broad straight shoulders lifting up and down all at once like he had a yoke on under his black suit jacket. “She saw what was in the crate.” He rounded the coffin, heading toward the door on the other side of the room. “She must be eliminated.”

  I glanced over at the opened crate. “Oh, no,” I whispered, taking a step toward the one-way glass. Natalie … What had she done?

  George blocked the doorway, keeping the albino from leaving the parlor. “You will not lay a hand on her,” he said, shoving against the much taller man’s chest. “Do you understand me?”

  The albino didn’t budge. “Or what, little mouse? What will you do? Try to hurt me?” His laugh was low and menacing. The sound chilled me clear through. I covered my mouth with my trembling hand.

  George held his ground. “I’ll go to your boss and have him put you back on a leash—where your kind belongs.”

  His kind? What kind was that?

  “Squeak all you like, little mouse.” The albino leaned over, his nose almost touching George’s. “But be careful I don’t eat you for dinner.”

  The big guy brushed George aside as if the funeral director was just clothing stuffed with goose down.

  “No! Stop!” George shouted, making the mics screech.

  My ear drums ringing, I watched him race out the open doorway after the albino.

  She must be eliminated …

  I had to do something to save her. I ran to the door that led to the parlor.

  Wait! I stopped, my hand squeezing the doorknob.

  I had to think this through. Before I ran headlong after George and the albino, I needed a plan. Something other than jumping on the albino’s back and bashing his brains in with my cell phone.

  My cell phone. That was it!

  I pulled up my contact list, scrolling down to Doc’s name, and hit the Call button.

  Ring.

  Ring.

  Ring.

  “Damn it, Doc,” I whispered. “Answer the goddamned phone for once.”

  After the fourth ring, his voice mail kicked in. Waiting for the fricking beep took forever.

  “Doc,” I whispered, “I’m at Mudder Brothers and the albino has Natalie. He’s going to do something to her and George can’t stop him. I need your help.”

  I hit the button to end the call and stood there, my hands really shaking now. Come on, Doc, call me back.

  Eons later, which may have been just thirty seconds in non-panic time, my cell still hadn’t rung.

  I glared down at Doc’s name on my contact list. Where was he?

  Now what? I needed a Plan B.

  I looked through the one-way glass. Still no George. No Eddie. No tall albino. Just the dead guy. My vision narrowed, tunneling on the corpse’s hands. Shooting stars darted at the edge in my peripheral vision.

  Breathe, Violet. Breathe.

  I listened to the sane voice in my head, which sounded more like Aunt Zoe than me. After taking several deep, slow breaths through my nose, the stars faded. The tunneling widened until the shadowed edges disappeared. My senses returned, picking up the stale dusty scent of the straw from the crate, the hum of the mics coming from the other room through the speakers, the waft of cool air brushing across my hot cheeks.

  I checked my phone. Still no Doc. My eyes locked onto the name above Doc’s—Detective Cooper.

  Right. Plan B.

  I selected Cooper’s name and hit the Call button.

  He answered on the second ring. “This better be good, Parker,” he said. “The waiter just brought my steak.”

  “Is that Violet?” Harvey asked in the background, sounding like his mouth was full. “Let me talk to her.”

  No! I needed the cop. “Cooper, they have Natalie,” I whispered. “They’re gonna hurt her.”

  I heard a chair scrape across the floor. The background chatter quieted. “Repeat that, Violet.”

  “They have Natalie. I was going to go help her, but I don’t have any weapons.”

  “Who has her? Where are you?”

  “Mudder Brothers.”

  “God damn it! I told you to stay away from there.”

  “Save the lecture for when I’m safely tucked behind bars. I’ve got a big problem here and I need your help now.”

  “Who has Natalie? George?”

  “No. A big albino. He took her somewhere downstairs, I think. He’s going to do something to her if we don’t stop him quick.”

  “The albino,” he said. “He’s six-foot-five with short white hair and a birthmark on his left cheek shaped like a horseshoe, right?”

  I hadn’t noticed the birthmark. When had Cooper seen the albino?

  That didn’t matter now. “Yes, that’s him. He told George that Natalie needs to be eliminated. I need to help her, but I don’t know what to do. He’s too big for me to take down.”

  “Stay right where you are—wait, where exactly are you?”

  “The hidden room behind the one-way glass.”

  “Of course you are. Don’t move. I’m on my way.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it, Violet. Stay put. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Thanks for that vote of confidence after I called you instead of going after her on my own.”

  “Just shut up.” He hung up on me.

  I pocketed my cell phone. Hurry, Cooper!

  Twisting my hands together, I walked back over to the opened crate. One of the black bottles would make a good weapon, but I’d rather hide behind Cooper’s badge and gun.

  I picked up a bottle and pulled on the cork, putting my nervous energy to work. It wiggled slightly. I squeezed the bottle between my arm and rib cage and tugged on the cork.

  The sound of a distant scream played through the speakers.

  I gasped, my lungs frozen in fear. Natalie! The bottle almost slipped from my grip.

  The scream played again—louder, longer. Definitely female.

  “Stop!” I cried, staring through the glass at the dead man’s hands as if he was the one responsible.

  Tears welled in my eyes, fear clogging my throat. I couldn’t sit here. I couldn’t stand by while my best friend was murdered. Cooper was just going to have to be pissed at me.

  Clutching the bottle, I rushed through the door and into the parlor. My muscles crackled with adrenaline, making me feel like Jackie Chan’s sidekick, but I knew better than to leap from the frying pan into the fire. I approached the other doorway on my tiptoes.

  My visit to Mudder Brothers last week to identify the headless corpse had taught me the layout of the building. I peeked around the doorframe. To the left, a hallway led to a much smaller viewing room, and then out to the bathrooms and foyer. Across the hall was an office George used to console the deceased’s family members and plan the funeral. To my right, a doorway led to the basement stairwell that ran parallel to the back of the building.

  I kicked off my mule heels and trod barefoot down the steps, ready to bound back up them if George or Eddie or the albino appeared below me. At the bottom of the stair, I paused and listened. I knew the stairwell emptied into the elbow of an L-shaped hall, but I couldn’t hear any voices or sounds of movement.

  After sneaking a quick look, I eased out from the stairwell door. Straight ahead were two doors on the left and one on the right. I was pretty sure the first left-side door opened to the room full of those Civil War amputation cases and the big nasty scissors. The second door led to George’s office, where Cooper had been waiting for me on a morning that now seemed like years ago rather than days. The door on the right could be a gateway to the planet Jupiter for all I knew.

  To my right, the long leg of the L-shaped hall dead-ended at two sets of closed steel doors on each side. The pair on the right led outside, where I’d seen Ray and George hanging out with a crate a couple of times now. Those on the left with small square windows opened to the Autopsy room.

  Which way should I go? If only Natalie would let out another scream, I’d have a heading, not to mention that I’d know she was still alive and breathing.

  One of the overhead florescent tube-lights flickered at the end of the shorter hall, drawing my gaze. I noticed George’s office door was opened a crack with the light on inside. A check of the autopsy room doors at the other end of the other hall showed no light in the windows.

  George’s office won the coin toss.

  I tiptoed forward, shifting the bottle from one hand to the other. My sweaty palms made the glass neck slippery. I hoped like hell the thing wouldn’t fly right out of my hands if I had to enter swinging.

  If George was alone with Natalie in his office, I might have a chance of taking him. If the huge albino was there, too, the most I could hope to do was delay the two men long enough for Cooper and the cavalry to arrive. There was no way I could take the albino down, not with the way he brushed George aside as if he were a speck of dust on his sleeve. For him, I’d need a shotgun.

  George must know I was still in the building. He either wasn’t looking for me on purpose, or was too distracted by what the albino was doing to Natalie to pay me any mind.

  Outside the door, I stopped, listening, hearing nothing. My throat felt powder dry, fear coating the back of my tongue.

  My fingers quaked as I reached out and pushed open the door. It creaked and swung inward. The room looked the same as it had the last time, only Cooper and his ever present frown were missing and so was any other breathing being, thank God.

  I raced inside and glanced behind the door just to make sure there was no boogeyman hiding there. The faint scent of George’s cologne hovered in the room, but the little man was nowhere to be seen, nor was the albino.

  And no Natalie, damn it.

  I inched back out into the hallway, my ears pinned back, my internal radar scanning. The coast appeared to be as clear as it was going to get.

  Next up on my to-do list—the gateway-to-Jupiter door. It was unlocked. When I opened it, I smelled grease, like a mechanic’s break room. Upon further inspection, I discovered a lift system sitting in the middle of the small room. The lift had a grated, steel-plate floor attached to a few pulleys via cables.

  On the other side of the lift, was a set of closed, windowless steel doors. I guessed they led to the autopsy room, and this was how the Mudders got caskets and bodies up to the parlor. It also explained how they moved the big crates up and downstairs.

  I slipped back into the hallway. The sound of a door thumping shut around the corner and heavy footfalls coming toward me spurred the return of the stars and tunnel-vision effect. Crap. I was going to pass out right there at the bad guys’ feet.

  With seconds to spare, I dashed inside the antiques-filled room. The window in there could serve as an escape hatch, if needed. I eased the door closed behind me and backed up against it, gripping the door knob. I wanted to lock it, but if I pushed the lock button, whoever was coming might hear the click.

  Breath held, I waited for the knob to turn in my hand, for the door to push against my back.

  The sound of footsteps stopped for a count of three, and then faded in the other direction.

  After I’d gulped a couple of breaths and the haze of panic that had filled my head cleared, I realized I’d forgotten to shut the lift room door.

  Is that why the footfalls had stopped? Had someone—namely George—noticed the open door and gone looking for me upstairs?

  My gaze skimmed over the large rectangular cases and freaky-shaped shadows from the light seeping under the door past my feet. The musty odor of rotting leather and cardboard reminded me of the records room upstairs.

  Why did Natalie have to poke her nose in that goddamned crate? I could be home primping for an evening with Doc right now instead of gearing up to arm-wrestle a huge albino.

  I pulled out my cell phone and hit a button to shed more light on the scene. Oddly enough, being able to distinguish the amputation saws and plexi-glass cases full of old-fashioned scalpels, bone shavers, and other deathly paraphernalia did not ease my quivering soul. That musty smell sat heavy on the back of my tongue, making me swallow to keep from gagging.

  The window beckoned. The primal need to scratch and claw my way toward the safety of the orange streetlights and fresh air gave me a push of courage to move away from the door, my stronghold.

  I stepped over a small stack of cases. A gleam to my left caught my attention. Within an arm’s reach, hanging on the wall, were the shiny big scissors. The long steel blades screamed lethal! Now that I’d seen them up close, I had no doubt the suckers could lop off human appendages, including a head.

  I reached out to touch one of the sharp edges, but then pulled back. My fingerprint on a possible murder weapon might not go over well with Cooper.

  Speaking of the cop, where in the hell was he? Maybe that explained the footfalls. Cooper might be upstairs, distracting George at this very moment. That meant Natalie might be alone with the albino, who wouldn’t dare do anything to make her scream while the cops were on the scene.

  Unless he gagged her … or silenced her permanently.

  That instinct to flee for safety eased. I turned back to the door. It was time to stop messing around and find my best friend.

  I shoved my phone into my pocket. In my other hand, I still clutched the bottle. While my conscious mind had paused to sniff the lilies, my subconscious remained prepared for attack. Thank God some part of me was able to stay focused.

  Easing the door open, I checked both ways. The hall was empty. I pulled the door the rest of the way open. The small creak of the hinges made me wince, but it was too quiet to be heard beyond the bend in the hallway.

  I stepped over the threshold and pulled the door closed behind me, turning toward the stairs.

  Someone grabbed me around my waist from behind. My scream was stifled by a large, callused hand that covered my mouth and blocked my breath.

  My attacker jerked me backwards. Our feet tangled and I stepped on the toe of his shoe. He stumbled, dragging me with him. Just as he tried to catch himself, I planted my right foot on the floor and shoved hard. We lurched through the doorway into George’s office, his hand still covering my lips. Losing his balance, he fell, dragging me down on top of him.

  As we landed, I whipped my head back, trying to free my mouth enough to bite his hand. My skull connected with something soft that crunched from the impact. After a grunt, the hand on my lips went limp.

  I shoved his hand away and scrambled to my feet, whirling and raising the bottle at the same time just in case he was playing possum.

  Then I gasped.

  Detective Cooper laid spread eagle on the floor, blood seeping from his left nostril. Uh, oh. I didn’t remember his nose being crooked before.

  “Shit,” I whispered and squatted over him, making sure he still had a pulse. He did, thankfully.

  Rising to my feet, I grimaced at the unmoving detective. Now what in the hell was I going to do for backup? If Cooper didn’t bring any of the other boys in blue with him, I was fucked.

  Way to go, ninja princess.

  If I lived through this mess tonight, Cooper was going to kill me when he woke up.

  A muffled high-pitched scream laden with panic rang out from down the hall. My skin prickled at the sound of it.

  I looked down at Cooper’s handgun, riding in his shoulder holster. A cold layer of calm fell over me. I knew what I had to do.

  “Enough of this shit,” I whispered, putting the bottle down on the floor next to him and yanking his gun free.

  I ran out the door and down the short section of the hall, Cooper’s gun pointed at the floor just in case a cop jumped out in front of me. At the stairwell doorway, I banked left and hurried down the long hall. Slowing as I neared the autopsy double doors, I crouched below the windows.

  Success here would depend on the element of surprise. I squeezed the door handle and pulled the steel slab open with my left hand, entering with the handgun raised in my right.

  The sight stopped me just over the threshold.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  The closing door bumped me in the ass, nudging me into the room.

  Ray lay on the autopsy table where the decapitated body had been last week, his wrists and ankles strapped down.

  Unlike the other guy, Ray still had his head. The rag stuffed in his mouth poked out from a strip of duct-tape.

  Like the decapitated body, Ray, too, was naked.

  I tried not to look in the general direction of his mid-section as I crossed toward him, but by then it was too late. The image had been burned into my brain the moment I’d stepped into the room, the knowledge of his lack of tan lines embedded in my memory until death did us part.

  Ray’s wide, panic-filled gaze held mine. He yelled something through the rag, but I couldn’t understand him. I ripped the tape off with a little more glee than a rescuer probably should have and pulled the rag free. I set the cloth down on a metal tray on a table next to Ray’s head, noticing the array of frightening-looking autopsy tools laid out on the stainless steel. What had they been planning for him? A live autopsy? I shuddered.

  “Get me loose,” Ray said, his voice raspy. “Hurry before he comes back.”

  He? Not they? Was he talking about Eddie?

  I tucked the gun into the back of my waistband, hoping like hell I didn’t end up with my ass shot yet again. The metal felt cool and empowering against my sweaty lower back. No wonder Cooper was so sure of himself.

  Starting at Ray’s left hand, I tugged on the straps, keeping my eyes averted from his naked nether regions. “What the hell is going on here, Ray?”

  “What’s it look like, Blondie?” he snapped, his usual sneer in place.

  I stopped with his hand still strapped tight and glared at him. “Get yourself free, dickhead. I have a friend to save.”

  I turned to leave.

  “Wait!” He cried at my back. “I’m sorry, Violet.”