Satan's Mirror Read Online Free PDF Page B

pretty park. Oh, it has a gazebo. Maybe we can have lunch there.”
    Dan chuckled. “I thought we weren’t tourists.”
    A flashing light behind them quelled Emily’s reply. She pulled the van to the side, watching the squad car in her rearview mirror. After several moments, a policeman stepped out and approached the driver’s side.
    She rolled down the window. “Is there a problem, Officer?”
    “Driver’s license and registration, please. I notice you have a brake light out.”
    “I’m sorry, sir. This is a rental, and—”
    “That’s not an excuse.” He glanced at the camera equipment on the floor of the back seat. His eyes were dark and his skin tanned. Curly, black hair showed around his hat. “Emily Goodman? I thought I recognized you. I’ve never seen your show myself, of course, but my kids watch from time to time. They’re five and seven.”
    “Oh.” Emily recognized the veiled insult. “I’m glad they enjoy it.”
    “You aren’t here about our missing Virginia College students, are you?”
    “Mickey Raynes and Renee Lambert. Yes, sir. Would you care to comment?”
    “It’s an ongoing investigation. One that doesn’t involve you.”
    “And yet, aren’t there rumors that devil worship and haunted houses are involved?”
    “Sensationalism. Tabloid reporting.” He handed back her license and registration. “Have that brake light repaired. This is a warning.”
    Emily watched him walk away in the mirror.
    “I’ll bet it’s a warning,” Dan said. “We’ll have to be discreet.”
    “I have a bad feeling,” Emily said, pulling from the curb. “This assignment is going to be trouble.”
    She drove slowly along Cathedral Place. Such a beautiful city, she thought. Who would expect ghost lore to be a mainstay of this community? And Dan was right—why hadn’t she heard of it before now?
    Dan let out a low whistle, motioning ahead at an ornate, domed building. “Look at that.”
    “Cathedral-Basilica.” She ducked to read the sign. “Established in fifteen sixty-five.”
    “There must be a heavy Catholic presence here. So why Satan worshippers?”
    “One doesn’t necessarily preclude the other.”
    “Just seems strange.”
    “These streets are strange. Half of them are one way. Check the map, please, navigator.”
    “Cardova takes us away from Cedar,” he told her, “but we can use it to swing around Flagler College and come back via Grenada Street.”
    Emily grinned. “The old slingshot maneuver, eh?”
    She wound around Victorian houses on narrow, brick-lined streets. Many yards were overgrown and bound by wrought iron fences and arched gates.
    “This architecture is breathtaking.” She looked at a home with a wicker veranda. “What era do you think that’s from?”
    “I read that Spanish colonists settled the city over four-hundred years ago, before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock.”
    “I wonder how many of these buildings are original and how many are made to look old.”
    “Thirty-six,” Dan said, “and forty reconstructed.” He looked at her and grinned. “You can learn a lot from a brochure.”
    “Let’s hope we can put your trivia to good use.”
    “There.” He pointed at a large, whitewashed home with overshadowing trees and a white fence. “I think that’s our Inn.”
    Emily pulled into the drive and parked in a small lot. “This is lovely. How could a kid like Mickey Raynes afford a room in a place like this?”
    “His father was a senator, remember?”
    “Right.” She hopped down from the van. “Let’s get our stuff.”
    She slid open the back door, and then grabbed her old denim duffle bag and her computer. She chuckled as she hefted them onto her shoulders—she’d gone through the trouble of finding the lightest laptop she could, and then packed it in a case that weighed twice as much.
    She looked at Dan, who had camera cases dangling from his neck. “What can I help you with?”
    “Here.” He slung the straps of his video camera