The Secret of the Stones by Ernest Dempsey (reading fiction .TXT) 📕

the woman in black raised her weapon once more and fired a final shot into the librarian’s head. Then she turned to the man who’d accompanied her. “Call the Prophet. Give him the update.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He had started to retrieve his cell phone from his jacket when he stopped and turned back to her. “Should I tell him about this one?” A gloved finger pointed toward the body.

She gave him a look that he understood meant “No.” “Just tell him we are still observing. Nothing else.”

He nodded and pressed the talk button.

Stepping across the body, she made her way toward the front window of the library. Outside the glass, the little town only presented a few wayward pedestrians, none of them seeming aware of what was transpiring within.

She heard her assistant finishing up a short conversation with their boss. He would certainly not be pleased to know that they had killed the librarian, which was why he didn’t need to know about it. She was an innocent stranger, but she was also a loose end. And loose ends were never a good thing.

Her assistant walked up and stood next to her, putting the phone back in his jacket pocket.

She continued looking out the large window. “What did he say?” she asked even though she knew the answer.

“Just to continue on observing.” He glanced over at her, not sure what she was thinking.

“We know where they are going from here. Let’s just try to make sure there are fewer contacts with random people between here and the goal. I’d prefer not to leave a blood trail wherever we go.” She gave a quick glance over her shoulder toward the area where the body lay.

He nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” she said after another moment. “Let’s go. We don’t want them to get too far ahead of us.

The two stepped across the threshold and onto the sidewalk outside. A bright sun beat down on their black outfits, warming their bodies against the chilly autumn air.

No one around even noticed as they slipped into their black sedan and drove off.

46

Southeastern Tennessee

Sean and Allyson stood waiting at the information desk in the welcome center of Red Clay State Park. Since they’d arrived, no park worker had been seen. Joe had lingered in the entryway, checking text messages, more than likely, from an angry Mrs. McElroy.

Time was of the utmost value, and the absence of someone who could provide useful information would certainly be a hindrance.

Allyson breached the silence. “Should we just take a look around? We’ve been standing here for five minutes.” Her patience was obviously running thin.

“Sounds like a plan,” Sean concurred. “Hey, Joe, let’s see what we can find.”

McElroy nodded and flipped his phone closed, sliding it into a front pants pocket.

Sean pointed to a pair of large double doors close to them at an opposing wall. A blue sign marked Exhibit hung above the museum entrance. “Let’s try in there first.”

Upon entering the display room, they noticed an acrid odor that filled the room. It was distinctly different than what a museum normally smelled like.

“Something isn’t right here.” Instinctively, Sean reached for his weapon. He was thankful that Joe kept a secret stash of ammunition in the tool box of the pickup truck.

Cautiously, he held the weapon at his side as he crept past the display boxes and pictures. At the corner of the false wall that divided the two rooms of the exhibit, he stopped and signaled the others to do the same.

Joe and Allyson had detected the smell, too, but they weren’t sure what was going on, so they obeyed, halting short of where Sean stood.

Sean warily peered around the edge of the wall down the other corridor of the small museum. That’s when he saw it.

The body of the park’s keeper lay motionless on its side in the corner of the room near the exit. Thick puddles of blood spread out underneath his form, the liquid seeping slowly into the thin carpet.

After seeing the man on the floor, Sean rushed over to the scene with Allyson and Joe confusedly following behind. As they rounded the wall, the two beheld what had caused Wyatt’s change of demeanor.

“Looks like they’re still a step ahead of us,” Joe commented grimly as he arrived at the exit.

“Yeah,” Sean nodded with a sigh. He reached down and checked for the man’s pulse on the darkly tanned neck, but felt nothing. “He’s gone.”

Allyson had seen bodies before. It was something you had to be able to cope with if you were going to work for the agency. Still, she had never truly grown comfortable with it. “Why would they do this?” she wondered aloud.

Both men shook their heads. “Either this Jurgenson felt like the ranger knew too much, or the guy tried something.” Sean squatted down to one knee, examining the multiple gunshot wounds. “Or maybe he could ID them, and that made him another loose end that had to be tied. At any rate, the police haven’t been here yet.”

“Which means we better get the heck out of dodge,” Joe finished.

“Right.” Sean began to stand when he noticed one of the ranger’s hands clutching something. A cell phone. Cautiously, he reached down and pried the device from the dead man’s fingers, afraid that the police or perhaps a park visitor would burst through the door at any moment.

Then something else caught his attention. In the corner of the room was a small display pedestal with a glass case surrounding a vase. Taking a quick step over to the pottery, he examined it with a look of distant recognition.

Joe, too, became curious with the artifact. “You know what that looks like?”

“It seems like I have