“No, we never did catch the man who killed Eighties, and we likely never will. Water under the bridge, but not a river I’d like to float down again.” Jim rocks on his heels with his hands behind his back. “Will you be joining us this evening for the fireworks show? I’ve had it specially arranged to mimic the same array the park used in its heyday.”
“You don’t say...I wouldn’t want to miss it, then.” A sparkle glints in Desmond’s eye as he turns to me. “You and Quinn will be there as well?”
I nod once.
“Sounds like a party,” Desmond says. He tips his lemonade toward King and Jim. “Sorry to worry you men. I saw what I needed to see, though, so you won’t have to worry about me disappearing again. See you tonight.”
He strolls off, sipping his lemonade and looking around at the park as if he has a right to. Fucking idiot.
Quinn pops out of the fun house. She looks irritated until she spots King and Jim. Worry replaces the agitated furrow of her brow, and she hurries over to us.
“What’s going on? Did you find him?” she asks.
“No, he found me,” I say. “The asshole popped up when I was about to join you.”
“We know where he is now, though,” Jim says, “so there’s no need to worry. Go and have your fun, and we’ll all have a big surprise tonight at the fireworks show.”
I turn to Jim. “What are you planning, old man? And why don’t I have a good feeling about it?”
King shakes his head and walks off, and that only reinforces the rising feeling that Jim has something dastardly up his sleeve.
“All things in good time, my boy.” He laughs, then hurries to join King.
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Quinn mutters, and I’m inclined to agree.
But I have better things in mind at the moment.
I give her ass a firm pat. “You’d best get back in that fun house. I was trying to give you a chance to get away. You don’t want to know what I’ll do to you if I catch you in there.”
“Or maybe I do?” She nibbles her lip and takes off again.
This time, not even Desmond will deter me from having a bit of fun.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Aven
Alarge tunnel rotates in front of me, and I’m dizzy before I ever step into the damned thing. At least the lass isn’t here to see me fall on my ass. The walls drag me upward, and I scramble out before the spinning walls dump me onto my face. On the other side of the suspension bridge in front of me, I spot my quarry climbing a wobbling rope ladder to the floor above.
“Gotcha,” I whisper as I grip the bridge and begin to cross.
But all of my confidence goes out the window when the damned boards start to sway. My fingers clench the bridge’s flimsy handholds a bit tighter as I creep to the other side. The lass really does have a head start now.
Despite seeing the ladder from the bridge, it’s unreachable. A plexiglass partition separates me from access, so I take the side path down a dark hallway. As I open the door at the end, a large jack-in-the-box pops out for a cheeky jump scare. I swat the damn thing away and push on. Around the corner, I find the ladder.
I start the climb, which is more difficult for me than it was for the lass. By the time I reach the top, I’m beginning to wonder if this is even fun for her. But then I hear her giggle and catch a glimpse of her golden ponytail disappearing down a red slide.
“Oh shit!” she squeals as she descends.
In my haste to get to the slide, I don’t realize the floor is composed of skinny rollers. The first step sends me onto my back with a groan. The structure shakes with the force of the impact.
“Are you okay?” the lass says somewhere below me.
I open my mouth to say yes, but no sound comes out. Only a squeak.
“Need me to slow down?”
I force my lungs to push air over my vocal cords. “Not a bit. You’d best run!”
