Born on the 4th of July

respect the Rosser tomb.”
“I think that tunnels did exist and do exist,” Corby told him. “You see, this place—and these people—were pretty cool. They built tunnels under here because the family believed in people. Oh, yeah! The pastor . . . priest, yeah, he was a priest, they were Anglicans or Episcopalians then—helped. This was a major stop on the Underground Railroad.”
Now Jackson was certain.
Dearborn was staring at Corby with pure venom in his eyes.
Then the man let out an elaborate sigh but glanced at Jackson and Adam and probably amended his words to Corby.
“Young man, I’m sure you’re very bright and do a lot of reading, but whatever there was in the 1800s doesn’t exist now. Look around you; feel free. Test the tombs in the walls. You’ll find corpses.”
“Thanks,” Jackson said pleasantly.
He thought of all the ways a door or opening might exist through the tombs. Maybe the man thought he wouldn’t test the tombs—that he’d respect the dead.
Well, he did respect the dead.
But he was damned well going to test the tombs.
“Adam, you want to take the right and I’ll take the left?” Jackson asked. “Corby, help Adam?”
“You bet. I know there are tunnels under here!” Corby said.
Dearborn stood, hands behind his back, watching as they started out tapping at the sealed in slots where members of the Rosser family lay.
Jackson paused. “You don’t have to stay here, you know.”
“I’m sorry; I’m responsible to the Rosser family,” Dearborn said.
Jackson shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Adam’s phone rang and he answered it. He listened and gave a few brief replies.
Then he ended the call and looked from Jackson to Charlie Dearborn. “Sir, we have a search warrant for the premises, asking for the video footage from the entrances and exits, as well. Jackson, Jon has arranged for radar equipment to test the ground. If the women did disappear into tunnels, we’ll find them.”
“Thank God!”
The ghost of Cameron Adair had been so silent Jackson had almost forgotten he was there. Josh set a spectral hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find them!” he promised.
Jackson refrained from reacting.
Dearborn let out a sound of exasperation. “All right; I’ll go and see about the footage you want.”
He headed out of the tomb.
Jackson watched him go.
“What’s the matter?” Adam asked.
“Adam, follow him, please,” Jackson said.
“I don’t think he’ll get the video for me until I hand him a warrant,” Adam said.
Jackson shook his head. “I don’t like him.”
“I don’t like him either,” Adam said. “He’s hindering an investigation.”
“Because he’s guilty in this, I believe, Adam. Please, go after him. The women are still here, somewhere, I’m certain. But he can’t get away with them.”
“Ah. Corby, Josh,” Adam said.
Corby looked uncertain.
“Go with Adam and Josh,” Jackson told his son.
“Okay, but—”
“He doesn’t want my dad alone,” Josh said. “Of course, he’s not alone, but we all learn that one man can be taken by surprise. And you’re one of the smartest kids I’ve ever seen, so . . .”
“You’re armed, right?” Jackson said to Adam.
“Yes. I didn’t think I needed to be on a visit to the cemetery, but . . .”
“Go. Jon Dickson should be here soon with other agents. I still think there’s an entrance from in here.”
“Has to be!” Cameron Adair’s ghost said. “I know the crow-like figure disappeared with my daughter right around here. There has to be an entrance to the tunnels.”
“Dad—” Corby said.
“Your dad will be all right,” Cameron assured him. “I’m going to be the eyes behind his back, and no offense to Mr. Harrison, but Jackson is a younger man.”
“Right. And a trained law enforcement officer while I’m . . . an eccentric rich guy who had the right friends to see to it the Krewe got put together,” Adam said. “Kids, let’s mush, okay?”
They left.
Jackson tapped on the seals and markers on the walls of the mausoleum. He could hear nothing hollow, nothing that would suggest anything beyond what he could see.
“I’m an idiot!” he suddenly spat out.
“What?” Cameron asked him.
“The floor—it has to be through the floor somehow!”
He strode to the pew, wrenching it aside, and fell to the ground, tapping around the place where it had stood.
He looked at Cameron Adair.
“Corby is right; the tunnels are down here. Listen . . .”
He tapped again. There was a hollow sound.
And yet, it appeared to be that the poured cement of the structure was solid.
He stood and looked at the altar.
“Has to be!” he said.
And he strode to it.
At first, it was immovable. It was marble, a beautiful piece. But heavy. And still . . .
He couldn’t push it; there had to be a lever, something . . .
Cameron stood behind him; Jackson knew the ghost had no lungs and it still seemed he was breathing down his neck.
“Hey, I’ll find it!” he said.
And he fell to the floor, testing the ground where the altar sat, pushing on the earth.
Nothing.
He knelt and studied the altar itself—certain there had to be a way to move it—and he would find an entrance to the tunnels beneath.

Chapter 4
Jennie had been moving ahead of Angela, showing her the way. She stopped suddenly, listening.
“We’ll never get there!” she said.
“What?”
“I mean, in time! Someone is coming. From the office—it’s a bit of a walk, but someone is coming from that direction. I know because there are turns in the tunnels . . . the Rosser family wanted to help; they built a tunnel. But there’s another tunnel that comes from the office.”
“The back of the office,” Angela murmured. “That’s it—they dragged me through the office; I know that. I remember . . .”
She remembered . . . something. Something she’d done when she’d been held by the man who had blocked her from exiting the office.
“Angela!”
Her new ghost friend was looking at her with anguish. “We’re not going to make it! You—you are cumbersome and moving too slow and still, some of the path is narrow and to rush—”
She broke off.
She didn’t want Angela risking her baby—anymore than moving laboriously through a dark tunnel