All Hallow's Eve: The One Day It's BAD to Be Good by Carolyn McCray Read Free Book Online

binders closer to her chest.
    “I don’t like anything negative in my life, ” John said.
    Mad at herself for letting John’s show of aggression get to her, Cecilia shrugged. “Wow. You must be disappointed a lot, then.”
    Rage passed over John’s face, contorting his features into a crumpled mask. His cheeks blotched red as he breathed through his teeth. Sure, John was known for his temper and had done his fair share of locker-room trashing after losing a game, but Cecilia had never seen him like this. He didn’t even seem to recognize her as a person anymore. She felt more like a target. Was it some kind of ’roid rage? He looked ready to hit her as hard as he had just hit that wall.
    Cecilia wasn’t sure what to do. She glanced over her shoulder, but Switzler had already gone back into her office.
    “I’ll show you disappointment,” John growled.
    “Hey,” a new voice said. “This mama’s boy giving you trouble?”
    Cecilia turned to find Michael walking up to them. He seemed casual—except for the baseball bat in his hand. She could nearly see the wheels turning in John’s head. He clearly wanted someone or something to vent his rage upon, but the way Michael twirled the baseball bat in his hand gave the distinct impression that he knew how to use it. Cecilia had never been happier for their national pastime.
    Regaining her composure, Cecilia answered, “No, Michael, not at all.”
    Even though she could feel the red-hot anger radiating from John, Cecilia walked past him toward the gym door. He didn’t move. The jock just glared at that baseball bat.
    Michael, however, seemed oblivious to John’s balled-up rage. His smile was warm as he asked her, “Walk you to class?”
    “No, thanks. I can take care of myself.”
    But as she entered the gym, with her hands shaking and her breath coming in starts, Cecilia wasn’t quite sure how true that was.
     
    * * *
     
    Ruth pushed yet another cross away from her face. They were on display. They were on stands. They were even hanging from the ceiling. She could see why Darby liked the place.
    “Is this where all crosses come to die?” Paxton asked as he finished checking the last of the aisles.
    “My ex was a theologist, and even we didn’t have this many crosses,” Ruth said as she joined her partner.
    “Hello?” she called out, but again no answer.
    Something was off. Even though the sign said, “Open,” and the front door was locked, the store appeared deserted. And in her line of work if something looked off, it usually was off.
    A loud crash came from the back of the store. Paxton’s gun was out and up faster than Ruth could track it. She too drew her weapon as, step by step, they made their way to the storeroom door.
    Paxton set up to enter the storeroom. He was all attention and focus. Gone was the man who stumbled out of his car with half a wrapper stuck to his shoe. Ruth knew the scuttlebutt around the bull pen. How Paxton was past his prime. The half-cop, half-bum jokes. But when it counted, like right now with a possible serial killer on the other side of the door, Paxton was the best she had ever seen.
    He gave a nod and she jerked the door open. In a single swift move, Paxton was in the door, announcing their presence. “Police!”
    She came in behind him, flanking his right. “Who’s there?”
    The sight gave her pause.
    “It’s like Cross-a-palooza.”
    Ruth did not chide her partner—mainly because he was right. If the front of the store had been filled with crosses, this storeroom was crammed to the hilt. They were stacked everywhere.
    That sound again. Paxton’s gun was back up. “Identify yourself.”
    A figure came from the back of the storeroom. A curtain separated them, so it was hard to tell, but the person seemed to be carrying something over his shoulder. The closer the figure came, the more it became clear that it wasn’t just “something” over his shoulder, but a body . And were those bloodstains?
    Paxton must