Page 157 of Random in Death

That reminded her he had a financial interest in the park. In both parks.

“Dark rides?”

“Interior thrill rides. Murderer’s Row, the Tunnel of Terror, Well of Woe, and Final Battle. All age twelve and up without an adult.”

“A lot of screaming in those?”

“That’s what they’re designed for, after all.”

“We’ll start there.”

“Let’s see then. I believe it’s this way to Murderer’s Row.”

She scanned crowds as they went, focusing on the younger set. Plenty of screams out here, too, she thought, and wondered why in the name of humanity people paid to scream.

No cams on the entrance of the ride where one-seater cars trundled into the mouth of a structure made to resemble a prison. Over the mouth, a man wearing the old-timey black-and-white-striped con suit bared his teeth in a maniacal grin and swung an axe.

“It’s a prison break, you see,” Roarke told her. “Escaped prisoners looking for blood and/or hostages.”

“Single-rider cars. Not this. He needs to be with her, right with her. Not this one.”

But she checked with the attendant anyway.

She tapped her earbud when Carmichael spoke. “Attendant at the Shoot ’Em Up Arcade thinks he saw him. Teenage attendant, says he noticed because of the trench, and it’s too hot for one. Plus, he walked by a few times, alone, so the kid thought he was probably a pickpocket and kept an eye out.”

“When did he spot him last?”

“He’s not sure, but less than a half hour.”

“Keep looking. That’s good, it’s good,” she said to Roarke. “He’s here, and less than thirty ago, he was alone. What’s next?”

This time Roarke had a park map on his ’link. “Well of Woe.”

The Well looked like a big, walled hole in the ground, and cars—room for three—descended at, to her eye, an insanely steep angle.

“What’s the deal?”

“A bit like a series of escape rooms with various obstacles, dangers including giant insects, a fire-breathing dragon, booby traps, evil sorcerer. And not this,” he realized. “If you get through one room successfully, you go into the next. If whoever’s in there hasn’t gotten through, you’d team up.”

“Not this,” she agreed, but checked before she stepped back from the echoes of screams and wild laughter.

“All right then, we’re on to the Tunnel of Terror.”

“Which is?” she asked as he led the way.

“Haunted, overrun with vampires, zombies, name your monster. If I remember right, and it’s been some time, the tracks circle and snake, climb up, then drop down abruptly into the dark. Various horror vid sound effects, perhaps the brush of skeletal fingers over your face, the red-eyes of a giant spider hurtling toward you in a sudden flash of light.”

“Who thinks of stuff like that?”

“Well now, I had a bit to do with the design here, so I remember some of it. If you’re paying for terror, the tunnel ought to provide it. Just over there.”

Shortly after the Shoot ’Em Up attendant spotted Francis, Francis spotted the girl.

He had a plan.

Put away the ’link, bitch. Put it away.

She stopped a moment, a hand on one hip, and laughed. Then as he wished, she slid the ’link into her tiny purse.