Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) by Anthony Strong (ebooks that read to you .TXT) 📕

like you read my mind.” Fowler nodded. “You think Judge Rodrigues is in a good mood today?”

“Probably not,” Barnes replied. “But he’ll still give us search warrants, I’ll bet. He wants nothing more than to clear the organized crime out of Vegas once and for all.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Fowler turned to the helicopter pilot. “You call this in?”

Glendale nodded. “CSU are on the way.”

“Perfect. We’ll let PD clean up.” Fowler started back toward the helicopter. “Take us back to town, quick as you can.”

“Wait,” Decker said. He turned and made his way back toward the cleft in the rocks. He pushed his way past the bushes and approached the mine entrance, stepping around Wagner Mitchell’s body.

“What are you doing?” Barnes said, following behind. “There’s no time to waste.”

“I have a hunch,” Decker said. He pulled his phone out and found the photo the geologists took deep within the mine. The three mummified bodies huddled against a rock wall. He zoomed in on the strange symbol drawn in the earth in front of them. Stepping a few feet inside the mine entrance, Decker kneeled down and used his finger to draw the same symbol in the dusty soil.

“I assume there’s a reason you’re doodling on the ground.” Barnes looked perplexed.

Decker straightened up. “There is. Those three corpses the geologists found weren’t mutilated.” He held the phone up and showed Barnes the picture. “Look at their stomachs. Intact. Not a scratch.”

“So?”

“That symbol. It looks Native American. If I’m right, it’s for protection. That’s the only thing that makes sense. Why else would the creature leave them alone?”

“Maybe their deaths were nothing to do with the creature,” Barnes said. “There might be no connection.”

“Possible. But I don’t think so. It was stalking them, I’m sure of it.” Decker slipped the phone back into his pocket. “There’s no other reason they would sit there and not walk out. They were hoping the creature would go away, but it didn’t, so instead they had no choice but to wait and starve to death.”

“What a horrible way to die. Stuck in the darkness knowing you can never leave.” Barnes shuddered.

“If my hunch is correct, their deaths were not in vain.” Decker looked down at the symbol he’d drawn on the tunnel floor. “This will contain the creature. It won’t be able to pass beyond it.”

“Only if your hunch is correct. And that’s a big if.”

“Yes.” Decker started back toward the helicopter. “You’d better hope I’m right. We don’t have time to reseal the mine entrance before dark.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then the creature will return again tonight,” Decker said as they reached the helicopter and climbed in. “And we’ll have to be ready for it.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

By two o’clock that afternoon, Decker was standing outside the Prospectors Paradise Hotel and Casino, with Special Agent Barnes at his side clutching the newly minted search warrant issued by Judge Rodrigues and collected from the Las Vegas Municipal Courthouse only a half hour before. Three miles away, at the Sunset Towers condo building overlooking the Las Vegas Strip, Special Agent Fowler was getting ready to search Wagner Mitchell’s home with a junior agent in tow.

The hotel casino was closed for renovations, with scaffolding covering the front façade, and construction materials piled high in the parking lot. The lobby doors, though, were not locked, and Decker could see workers wearing hard hats moving about within.

“Looks like business as normal here,” Decker commented. “They obviously haven’t missed their boss yet.”

“I bet work will come to a screeching halt when they find out Harlan Biggs is dead. There won’t be anyone to pay the construction company.”

“Not our problem,” Barnes replied. He took his credentials out and headed toward the main doors. They hadn’t gotten more than a few feet across the hotel lobby when a booming voice shouted in their direction.

“Hey, you two. What are you doing in here? Can’t you see the casino’s closed? This is a construction site.”

Decker turned to see a stocky man wearing a fluorescent jacket and yellow hard hat stomping toward them. He carried a walkie-talkie in one hand, and a clipboard in the other.

“We’re not here to gamble,” Decker said as the man drew close to them.

Barnes held up his credentials. “FBI. We have a warrant to search the hotel and the owner’s personal accommodation.”

“You want Harlan Biggs, then,” the worker said. “He ain’t here. Haven’t seen him all day.”

“We’re aware of that.” Barnes slipped the credentials wallet back into his pocket. “You are?”

“Matt Campbell. Site supervisor. I work for Calder Construction. We’re handling oversight of the renovation, including the hotel rooms.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Matt,” Barnes said. He glanced toward the casino, where a dozen or more workers were busy laying floors. “These are all your employees?”

“Some. Depends what job they’re doing. A majority are subcontractors. Electricians, carpenters, day laborers, and the like. They come and go. It’s hard to keep track.”

“I see.” Barnes nodded. “When was the last time you saw Harlan Biggs?”

“Yesterday. Early afternoon. That goes for his general manager too.”

“Wagner Mitchell.”

“Yeah. He was running around the construction zone, getting in the way. No clue what he was doing. Then the pair of them disappeared. Haven’t seen ‘em since.”

And you won’t see them again, thought Decker, but he said nothing. Instead, he glanced toward the elevators. “Where can we find Harlan Biggs’ personal accommodation?”

“Top floor.” Campbell snorted. “He’s got a couple of guest rooms up there that he knocked into one and likes to call the penthouse suite. Thinks he’s the king of the castle.”

“Is it only the penthouse on the top floor?” Barnes asked.

“Nah. There are other guestrooms up there, but he ain’t renovating them. Doesn’t want people staying on the same floor as him. Claims he’s going to rip them out and put a VIP bar and restaurant up there instead. You can’t miss his penthouse suite. He’s actually got it written on the door.”

“You know where we can find a key for that unit?” Barnes asked.

“You could try Penny Blake, the