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move, exposing a stairwell going down.

Had the officers also come down here? I called out for them again, but they still didn’t answer.

I texted Amelia to let her know where I was, because if I’d learned anything in the last year, it was to be prepared and always have backup.

At the bottom of the stairs, I glanced around. There were rows and rows of plaques listing former Jamesons going back generations.

I remembered that East had said that sometimes these large estates also buried long-term caretakers on the premises, but I could hardly imagine they'd be kept in the family crypt. Maybe there was a secondary crypt?

An echo some twenty feet away tripped my senses. I glanced around with my gun at the ready. I knew down here I'd barely have any cell service, so I hoped my earlier message to Amelia had gotten through.

I heard the sound again, and this time it was accompanied by running footsteps.

Gingerly, I stepped toward where I'd heard the sound, aware that my light was giving away my position. But no way was I going to attempt to traverse these tunnels and halls in the dark.

I heard the skitter of footsteps up ahead, and I picked up my pace. It wasn't until I'd reached the main center meeting point of tunnels that I saw the shadow I was chasing. "Freeze, Jameson."

Garreth Jameson grinned at me. "Of course it would be you."

"I don't know what that means but yes, it is me. You're under arrest. There's nowhere to go."

"You forget, my father has been training me to hide nearly my entire life. So if I don't want you to, you're not going to find me. This is my house."

I laughed. "You recognize that I found you right now, right. Oh, the irony."

He scowled at me. "You think you're so clever. You thought you were too good for me."

"Yes, yes, bad guy speech. Honestly, can we skip this part? Because I just want to get to the arresting."

"Catch me if you can." He turned and ran.

I knew that there was no way in hell I should do this without backup, but there was no way to communicate with them without going back upstairs where I could get a signal, and by then he'd be long gone.

So I followed his footsteps down the dank tunnels, never giving up, keeping him in my sights, all the while checking my phone for fucking service.

I felt a whoosh of air toward my face before I registered movement, and instinctively, I ducked.

The shovel that he’d aimed for my head missed. I lunged for him, and he managed to tackle me and slam me up against one of the walls. Pain went shooting through my body and I slid down to my knees as he turned and ran, but I wasn't giving up. Instead, I climbed back to my feet and followed him.

As I staggered from the tunnel and into a larger crypt room, a shot rang out, and I flipped over a stone bench and dove for what little cover it provided. In the stillness that followed the gunshot, I could hear his footsteps retreating once again. I glanced around the room and noticed two doorways he could have possibly exited through and whispered, "Oh God where does each one lead?"

The schematics hadn’t shown much detail of the tunnels, so I had no idea. All I could do was guess. With an internal eeny, meeny, miny, moe, I pick the door on the left, taking the stairs two at a time, and I was rewarded by the sound of echoing footsteps.

"Got you asshole."

Then I heard creaking, muffled curses, and thudding on the stairs again before I finally reached him.

I aimed my gun and said, “Give it up, Jameson. You’re not escaping today.” Then the door at the top of the stairs opened, and beyond it I could see white marble countertops and Shaker-style cabinets. I knew this room. It was the kitchen of the lodge above the crypts.

Garreth Jameson glared at me. "Why won't you just quit?"

"God that would be such a pain in the ass. Lead me this far then expect me to quit? You know it's never going to happen."

There were voices approaching above us, and he whirled on me, saying, "Let me go, I will give you anything you want. Money, jewelry, whatever."

"I think you underestimate me. Which is disconcerting at best." With my gun leveled at him, I smiled sweetly. "On your knees. Hands behind your head."

And that was how Denning and Amelia found us; me with a gun on the suspect, and him complying.

Amelia stared at me. "What the hell?"

Denning's face went ashen when I said, "Sir, handcuffs please?"

He tossed them as he stared at me and asked, “Where did you find him? I assigned you to the crypt after the other agents said it had already been cleared.”

"Yeah, funny that. The officers on duty weren't in the crypt."

He glanced around. "So, where were you? Where did you come from?"

"Well, if you were willing to listen you would know." With Garreth Jameson in cuffs, I could finally breathe.

Suddenly all the lights went out. The darkness below ground was already disorienting, but to lose the lights above ground too, I knew something was wrong.

Denning stared outside. "Amelia, take the suspect back to the car will you?"

Amelia’s voice pitched low. "Something's up. This feels a little too…"

Neat and tidy? Something had caught my eye downstairs, but in my haste to pursue Jameson, I’d dismissed it at the time. But now I knew someone else had been in that crypt, and I had a good idea of exactly who it was. I handed Jameson off to Amelia and said, "I need to go back in."

While I was making the transfer, Amelia slipped me a com unit, winked, and whispered, “This might come in handy.”

Off course, Denning tried to stop me. "You will do no such thing. You will—"

I turned to him. "Sorry sir, but with all due respect, since I'm

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