you-books.com
Book menu
  1. Casey Daniels
  2. Night of the Loving Dead
  3. Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_027.html
Prev Next

20
By the time Madeline came back from the ladies’ room, Dan was ready to hit the road.
“It’s time to talk to Hilton,” he told Madeline, “but not until I stop at a library and check out these names. I’m guessing you don’t want to come along. I’ll call you when I’m done.” He gave her a peck on the cheek that was loving enough, but when he looked into her eyes, it was to send an unspoken message. “We’re going to get this thing settled once and for all.”
I knew what this meant. Dan was headed out to do research, and research—it goes without saying—is boring. Something told me it would be far more interesting to tag along with Madeline.
I was glad I did. When she hailed a cab, I crawled into the backseat next to her, and when she gave the cab driver the address of the Gerard Clinic... well, I can’t really say I was surprised. I was curious, though. She wasn’t carrying a briefcase or a file, so I didn’t think she had the proof with her that she was supposed to have when she met Agent Baskins, so that’s not why she was headed to the clinic. So what trick did Madeline have up her polyester sleeve?
Anxious to find out, I stuck close, even when she marched right past the receptionist and walked into Hilton Gerard’s office without knocking.
When he saw the woman he thought was Pepper Martin walk in, his surprise couldn’t have been more complete. (Well, maybe it would have been if he knew she wasn’t me and I was right next to her.)
For a couple moments, he simply sat there behind his desk, his mouth opening and closing like a fish that had been hooked and dragged onto dry land.
But hey, the guy is an expert, right? I mean, about brains and research and psychology. And also about cheating the government, hiding money, and, oh yeah, murder, too.
He wasn’t about to be caught off guard for long.
When the receptionist came running in on Madeline’s heels, falling over herself to apologize, Doctor Gerard told her not to worry, got up, and closed the door in the poor woman’s face. He stood with his back to it, his eyes hooded as he sized up his guest.
“Miss Martin. I must say, I’m surprised to see you. I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to walk back in here. Not after—”
“Cut the crap, Hilton.” Madeline breezed behind his desk and took the seat he’d just vacated. Not wanting to miss any of the fun, I sat on the edge of the desk and watched the show. “We’ve got more important things to talk about than how you tried to snatch that stupid girl’s brain and how she got away from you.”
He smiled in a way that said he didn’t actually trust that he was safe in a closed room with the woman. “You’re talking about yourself as if you’re someone else. You’re so stressed that you can’t handle reality. You’re having what we call a dissociative fugue.”
Madeline was one step ahead of him. She clicked her tongue and waved off the bullshit explanation. “I know exactly who I am,” she said. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
“The hospital experience?” Hilton’s smile faded. His laugh sounded as uncomfortable as he suddenly looked. “You remember what happened to you there?”
“Not what happened to Pepper. Who the hell cares what happened to Pepper! I do remember, though, what happened to the others. You know, Oscar Zmeskis, Becka Chance, Alan Grankowski, and the rest of them.”
Hilton was back to the fish impersonation. While he stood there staring with his mouth open, Madeline laughed.
“Surprised?” she asked. “You shouldn’t be.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
He thought about this while he walked over to the desk and dropped into one of his own guest chairs. “What do you want?” he asked.
“The same thing I wanted before. A million ought to do it. At least to start. That will keep me quiet about what I already know. You know, about all those brains you’ve been studying out in Winnetka. And about how you murdered Madeline Tremayne when she found out what you were up to.”
“Huh?” Still sitting on the desk, I spun around so I could give Madeline a closer look. Then I glanced the other way to catch Doctor Gerard’s reaction. She was looking happy. And him? He was as guilty as hell. I could tell, and I wondered why I’d never seen the truth before.
“Madeline was killed by a mentally ill patient,” Doctor Gerard said, and if I hadn’t seen that fleeting look that told me he’d been caught with his pants down (only proverbially, of course, thank goodness), I actually might have believed him.
Madeline didn’t. Then again, no one knew this part of the story better than she did. “Madeline was in on it from the start. She knew exactly what you were doing to those homeless lowlifes. She wanted you to pay her in return for her silence. A million dollars, right? The same thing I’m asking for.” She let this sink in before she went on. “You didn’t want to share. You paid John Wilson to kill her, and then you supplied him with enough drugs to make sure he OD’d. It was the perfect way to keep him quiet.”
Hilton’s voice was breathy. “You can’t know that.”
“But I do.” Her smile was sleek. “And if you think about it, you’ll know how I know. Remember, Hilton, I did a lot of research for you.”
The truth of the matter dawned, but just as quickly, he dismissed the possibility with a shake of his head. “No. It isn’t possible. You . . . er . . . Madeline . . . Madeline was the only one who knew what was really happening in Winnetka. No one else knew. You couldn’t know.”
“You think?” Stretching like a cat, she rose from the chair. “Remember, Hilton, there’s more in those books of yours than just information on ghosts. Shape-shifting, body switching. Did you ever think it was really possible?”
Honestly, I almost felt sorry for the guy. That’s how upset he looked. Before he had a chance to say anything, though, the door banged open again, and Dan raced into the office. He rushed around the desk, grabbed Madeline’s hand, dragged her toward the door, and tried to push her out into the hallway toward the receptionist who was, again, stuttering out her apologies to the doctor.
“Out,” Dan said, and when Madeline wouldn’t budge, he tugged her again. “Out, now. It’s too dangerous here for you. Hilton and I have things we need to talk about.”
“Not you, too.” Doctor Gerard groaned. “Your friend here has been telling me some fantastic stories, Dan. I hope she doesn’t have you believing them.”
“I’ve got some stories of my own.” Dan had a piece of paper clutched in one hand, and I was sitting close enough to see that it was a computer printout of the same two articles I’d found about the missing homeless men. “What do you do with them, Hilton?” he asked, poking the paper in Hilton’s direction as if he could see it. “Where are the people who’ve gone into your study? Please tell me that it’s not true that you—”
“Can’t you keep your mouth shut?” It was Madeline’s turn to slam the door in the face of the receptionist. When she was done, she turned to Dan with fire in her eyes. “I was taking care of everything. Why did you have to show up and ruin it all?”
“What?” He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “What are you talking about? Ruining everything? Terrible things are happening out in Winnetka. I’ve got documentation.” He waved the newspaper articles at her, too. “It’s not proof, but it’s a start.” He turned to Hilton. “You owe me some answers.”
“You think so?” This time when Hilton laughed, it sent chills up my spine. To put some distance between myself and him, I walked to the other side of the room and stood near the bookcases there. Too bad Madeline had the same idea. She came to join me, and I sidled into the corner, the better to avoid the bad vibrations that rose off her like the electrical charge from a thundercloud.
“I’ve got news for you, Dan.” Hilton strolled back around his desk and stopped behind it. “I don’t owe you anything, and I don’t owe anything to your friend here, either. So when she tells me I’ve got to pay her a cool million—”
“What!” Dan spun to stare at Madeline, and I was busy staring at him staring at her.
Which is why none of us noticed when Hilton Gerard opened his desk drawer. By the time we realized what was happening, he already had the gun in his hand.
Hilton pointed with the gun, encouraging Dan and Madeline to stand closer together. “Don’t you get it?” the doctor asked. “Don’t you see what happened before your very eyes? She isn’t Pepper Martin. She’s Madeline. She has to be. It’s the only way she could know everything she does.”
“Then it is true!” Dan’s eyes misted. He grabbed her arm and looked into Madeline’s eyes, and for a moment, I thought he’d actually be corny enough to kiss her, even while Doctor Gerard was pointing that gun at them. Big points for Dan, he didn’t go for the obvious. Then again, Dan never did.
“What did you do with her?” he asked, and since I knew he was talking about me, I perked right up. “Where’s Pepper? Is she safe?”
“Oh please!” Madeline yanked her arm away. “You always were a sucker.”
“A sucker to believe that you really loved me? A sucker to miss you for three long years?” Dan could barely choke out the words. “Are you telling me—”
“She knows everything,” Doctor Gerard said. He stepped closer. “You see, Dan, Madeline was part of my scheme. It was working pretty well, too, until she got greedy.”
“No.” Dan dismissed the very idea with a shake of his head that sent his shaggy hair flying. “It can’t be true. Maddy wouldn’t—”
“But I would. I did!” Her laugh was almost a shriek. “And I had you fooled since day one,” she told him. “I had you all fooled.”
“It’s an unfortunate situation.” Doctor Gerard trained the gun on Dan, and I tensed, wondering if I could spring at him and knock the weapon away. Before I could, though, he swiveled toward Madeline and fired.
After that, everything moved so fast, it’s hard to say what happened when. Even over the noise of the deafening gunshot, I heard Madeline scream and watched her crumple to the floor. I wasn’t taking any chances. When the doctor turned toward Dan, I launched myself through the air and knocked into his gun hand. At the same moment, the office door burst open and Agent Baskins rushed in. He tackled the doctor and had him handcuffed before Dan could recover and help, and when some of the clinic employees ran in to see what was happening, he ordered them to call 911 and hurried over to where Madeline lay, a trickle of blood pooling on the floor around her.
“Hang on,” Agent Baskins told her, and it was weird, but I kind of wondered if he was talking to me. Because even as I watched, the scene in front of my eyes blurred and faded. Then again, that was apt to happen since I was watching myself bleed to death right before my very eyes.
When Agent Baskins spoke again, his voice sounded like it came from a million miles away. “Hang in, Pepper,” he said. “You’re my star witness against these guys, remember.”
Dan knelt on the floor and took Madeline’s hand in his. He pressed it to his heart.
“You heard this guy,” he told her. “You’ve got to hang in. You can’t leave yet. You’ve got to tell me what you did with Pepper.”
Something told me that Agent Baskins would have liked to ask what the hell Dan was talking about, but he never had the chance. Outside, we heard the pulsing sound of police car sirens. Inside, well, something really weird happened. While they knelt there and hung on to Madeline, the floor beneath my feet shifted and disappeared, and I couldn’t tell if I was right side up or upside down. I looked down at my ugly outfit just as it—and I—faded. Pretty soon I was nothing but a mist hanging high above the scene.
That’s why I had a bird’s-eye view when Madeline’s spirit swooped out of my body, kicking her clunky black shoes and screaming all the way.
“Oh no,” she shouted, her angel face twisted with anger. “I’m not giving up this body. I’m staying here. I’m staying alive. I’m not going anywhere.”
Apparently, somebody had other ideas.
I heard a noise that sounded like thunder, and I’ll tell you what, though I suspect Agent Baskins would never admit it, I think he heard it, too. His head came up and he listened closely. Dan, of course, was another story, and an intuitive thinker if I ever met one. Both men felt a shift in the air, just like I did, and just like I did, they looked at the far wall of the office just as that spooky black shadow exploded right through it.
Did Dan and Agent Baskins know the thing was there?
I can’t say, but maybe they didn’t have to. I was scared enough for all of us.
Shaking in my chunky shoes, I watched as the creature reached a hand out to Madeline. She automatically jumped back.
“No. Don’t take me,” her spirit screamed. “I’m alive. I have this body. Take the girl it belongs to. She must be here.” She looked around, and for the first time, she spotted me. She stabbed a finger toward me. “Take her spirit in exchange for mine.”
The shadow turned its fiery eyes toward me. “Don’t want you,” it said, and while it was still looking in my direction and Madeline was caught off guard, it snaked one arm around her and pulled her closer.
Her scream was like nothing I’d ever heard before and hope to never hear again. The closer she got to the massive creature, the more muffled her cries became, and when it put both its arms around her and she was folded into the black cloud, the screaming stopped altogether.
I barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief. The next thing I knew, that invisible hand was on me again, yanking me through time and space. The world around me faded and blurred, and I moved a thousand miles an hour toward I-don’t-know-where.
I did know that when the spinning stopped, my left side felt as if it were on fire and there was something hot and wet and sticky all around me.
When my eyes fluttered open, I found myself in a position similar to where I’d been when Madeline snatched my body—looking up into Dan’s blue eyes.
 
 
By the time I stepped foot in Garden View again, the last of the daffodils were up and the tulips outside the administration building were starting to bloom.
Ordinarily, I would not even have noticed.
But a funny thing happened once I had my body snatched and I got it back only because somebody shot me: I started paying more attention to the little things.
Like the looks of genuine delight on the faces of my fellow employees as they lined the hallways to welcome me back to work. Of course, Ella was at the end of the line, but that was because she was planning one of those hugs of hers—the kind that never seem to end. For once, I didn’t mind.
“You look terrific,” she said. Since she had tears streaming down her face, I’m not sure how she could see me clearly. “Six weeks in Florida with your mom did wonders for you.”
“Yeah, that and those couple weeks in the hospital.” That part was not a pleasant memory, and I didn’t want to think about it, so I shook it away. “I’m still moving kind of slow,” I told her, just so she didn’t equate first-day-back-at-work with anything like actually working. “I think I’m going to need to take it kind of easy for a while.”
“Of course you are.” She patted my arm. “That’s why I’ve got something new and wonderful all lined up for you. But before I tell you about that, I have to tell you that a woman named Alberta called you early this morning. She said to tell you that the memorial service for someone named Ernie is going to be in June, on Father’s Day weekend. She said she hoped you’d be there, because after all you did for her, she thinks of you like family. Do you know what she’s talking about?”
“You bet.” I could still remember the vision I’d had as the paramedics were taking me out of Doctor Gerard’s office on a stretcher; a vision of Ernie and Stella and all the others who’d been experimented on at the hospital as they went into the light. Even Oatmeal Lady looked happy, and just thinking about it, I couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe you’d like to go with me. We could explore Graceland.”
The look of sheer joy on Ella’s face was all the answer I needed. I made a move toward my office door. “I’ll call Alberta right now,” I told her.
“Oh, not right now.” Ella slid a look toward my closed office door and leaned in to whisper, “He’s waiting for you.”
I wasn’t exactly sure who she meant, but since it was the perfect opportunity for me to get away from the crowd, I opened the door and went inside. There was a bouquet of hot pink roses on my desk, and the he in question was sitting in my guest chair. It was Dan, and I hadn’t seen Dan since the day I got shot.
“Hey.” He rose the second I walked in. His hair was a little longer than it had been when I last saw him, and he was wearing rumpled khakis and a blue polo shirt. He looked cute. And more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen anybody look in my whole entire life.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to call since you left the hospital,” he said by way of explanation, even though I hadn’t asked for it and wasn’t expecting one. It was part of my new don’t-sweat-the-small-stuff attitude. He sat down, then stood up again. “Once I knew you were going to recover . . .”
“You figured I could do it all on my own.”
Dan’s cheeks went ashen. “I was pretty busy for a while with the guys from the FBI,” he said. “Now that Hilton’s confessed, they’re finally satisfied that I didn’t know anything about what was happening out in Winnetka. I’ve got to tell you, you had them going for a while. They were pretty confused, what with the woman they thought was you telling Agent Baskins she had the proof to put me away for a thousand years, then with you in the hospital, claiming you didn’t know anything about it.”
“I don’t.” I shrugged, because after all, what else could I say? There didn’t seem to be anything to gain from pointing out that Dan’s late wife was the one who was out to get him. The dark circles under his eyes told me he’d already spent plenty of time thinking about that.
He didn’t want to talk about it, either. That’s why he went right on. “Once I knew you were safe and sound with your mom . . . well, I figured you’d have a quicker recovery without me around.”
His nervousness was contagious. I shuffled around behind my desk. “It would have been nice to talk to you.”
“Pepper . . .” As quick as lightning, Dan was around the desk and had my hands in his. “I almost got you killed. I can’t tell you how that made me feel. Guilty. Terrible. Awful. Damn, I didn’t even realize you weren’t you, that Maddy was you. I don’t know how she did it, but . . .” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t believe how stupid I was.”
“It’s not exactly an everyday situation,” I said, because it was true, and because I didn’t have the heart to watch him suffer. “There’s no way you could have known what Madeline was up to.”
“No, but I should have. That first time I kissed her, I knew something was different. If only I’d been paying more attention. She wasn’t you. She never could be.” He dropped my hands and backed away. “After Hilton shot you . . . shot her . . .” He shook his head, clearing it. “Maybe it was the stress of the situation, maybe I was just imagining the whole thing, but I swear, Pepper, I swear I saw her spirit rise out of your body and for the first time, I saw Maddy for what she really was. It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “I didn’t want you to know.”
“Thanks.” His smile was fleeting. “But it’s better for me to face reality, and the reality—”
“The reality is that even when you knew that was Madeline there inside my body, you wanted to help me. You didn’t let me down. I thought—”
“That I’d want her more than I wanted you. I know. That’s why . . .” Dan looked toward the chair where he’d been sitting, and I saw that there was a full-to-bursting backpack on the floor next to it. “I made a huge mistake thinking I could have Maddy back in my life again and nothing would be changed. I can’t take that chance again. I’ve got to learn that the past is the past, and I need to put the past behind me. I can’t do that here. I’m going to London. This afternoon. There’s some really cutting-edge paranormal research going on in the UK.”
“So you don’t want to study my brain anymore?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Right now, that would feel a little intrusive.”
“Even though you know I can see and talk to ghosts?”
Another shrug. “There are more important things than finding out the truth. I’m thinking giving you a little peace and quiet is one of them.”
“And you’re thinking that if you go away and don’t see me for a while, you won’t feel so guilty.”
Did I sound like as much of a baby as I was feeling?
Maybe, because Dan came over and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m not doing it to hurt you, Pepper.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Maybe once we’ve had a chance to process everything that happened—”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I stepped back and out of his reach, and like I’ve said, he’s an intuitive kind of guy. He knew what it meant: it was time for him to leave. He got his backpack, and his hand was already on the door when I spoke.
“Only it doesn’t seem fair, does it?” I asked him. “I mean, Madeline got to go to bed with you and all I could do was—”
“Watch?” Dan had apparently not thought of this before. That would explain why color shot up his neck and into his cheeks.
I grinned. “Maybe a little.”
He stepped closer, but only long enough to kiss me quickly. “We’re going to see each other again.”
“Yeah. OK.” I opened the door for him.
And found Ella standing right outside.
Dan stepped around her. “I’ll call,” he said. “I promise.”
I watched him walk away, and when he turned the corner, I went back into my office. Ella was already in one of my guest chairs.
“You OK?” she asked.
“Yeah.” I said it even before I realized I was telling the truth. “There’s a lot for Dan and me to think about. We’ll both be better off with a little time away from each other.”
“Exactly!” Ella hopped to her feet. “That’s why I know you’ll be thrilled to hear what’s happening. I’m going to be giving you something very exciting to keep you occupied for the next couple months. There’s a committee working to restore Monroe Street Cemetery. It’s a wonderful urban burying ground, but it’s been neglected for years and years. These are wonderful, enthusiastic volunteers.”
From experience, I knew this wasn’t the end of the story, and I leaned forward, urging her on. “And . . .”
“And it’s going to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” she said. “And it’s not that I’d like to see you leave. Heaven forbid! But it will look great on your résumé, and you’ll have a chance to write and publish articles about everything that happens, too.” She sashayed her way to the door.
Only I wasn’t about to be satisfied with so little of the story. “Ella.” I stopped her before she could leave. “What am I doing with this wonderful group of volunteers?”
“You’re chairing the committee, of course,” she said, and before I could pin her down—or protest—she pulled open my door and walked out of my office.
I was all set to follow her when I ran smack into an Italian silk tie that cost more than any cop should have been able to afford.
“Careful!” Quinn Harrison put his hands on my shoulders much as Dan had done just a couple minutes before. But instead of using it as an adios move the way Dan had done, Quinn back-stepped me into my office and kicked the door closed behind him. “You don’t want to irritate that gunshot wound of yours the first day back on the job, do you?”
“I’m fine.” I was. The doctors in Florida had assured me. I grinned. “You know that. You’ve called me a couple dozen times. And the flowers . . .” I bent to smell the roses. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you.”
“They are.” Quinn cocked his head. “I didn’t send them.”
“You didn’t? I thought . . .” I tripped over my blunder.
Quinn stepped forward. “Maybe we should read the card?” He plucked the little envelope from the center of the arrangement, but before he had a chance to open it, I snatched it out of his hands and ripped it open. The card inside was blank except for the sender’s name: Scott Baskins.
“They’re from . . .” I shouldn’t have been embarrassed and I knew it, but that didn’t keep me from being uncomfortable. I stuffed the card in my pocket. “A friend.”
“Your friend has good taste.”
“You do, too. You sent plenty of flowers while I was recovering.”
“I’ve got to tell you, I wasn’t exactly sure how you’d feel about the flowers. Or the phone calls. I mean, the last time we saw each other . . .”
He didn’t need to remind me. The sex was terrific, but the morning after was a little tense.
“So . . .” He let the single word hang in the air between us, and though it wasn’t a question, I knew he was expecting an answer.
“I’ve learned a lot over the last couple months,” I told him. “A lot about myself, and a lot about relationships. Where we were headed . . . well . . .” I swallowed my misgivings. “We need to get to know each other better. You know that, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.” He’d never agreed to anything that quickly, so I knew either we were on the right track or we were making a huge mistake. “I’ve had time to think about it, too. I like being with you, Pepper. We need to date and establish some kind of real relationship before . . . you know.”
“Right.” I tried to sound enthusiastic, because after all, it was exactly what I’d said, and it made a whole lot of sense. Right? “We’ll be grown-ups about the whole thing.”
He started for the door. “Agreed. So I’ll call you sometime. And we’ll have dinner. Or meet for a drink.”
“Perfect!” I watched him walk out the door and close it behind him, and for a couple moments, I thought about everything that had happened, everything we’d said, and everything I’d learned about life and love.
That’s when I made up my mind.
I raced for the door and pulled it open only to find that the hallway outside my office was filled with ghosts. There were tall ghosts and short ghosts, skinny ones and fat ones. Most of them were dressed as if they’d just stepped out of one of those dreary Masterpiece Theater productions.
Aside from saying, “Excuse me,” to get around them, I didn’t even stop to give them the time of day. I knew who they were; the bunch from that cemetery I’d be helping to renovate. That meant I’d have all summer to worry about them.
Right now, I had something more urgent to take care of. I moved faster than I’d moved in months, and I was out the door and in the parking lot just as Quinn was unlocking the door of his unmarked police car.
“Hey, Quinn!” When I called to him, he looked up.
“That stuff you said, you know, about being grown-ups and establishing a relationship. Does that mean we can’t have sex?”
His green eyes glittered in the spring sunlight. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Me?” I grinned. “I think we don’t have to be that grown-up.”

Prev Next
Night of the Loving Dead
titlepage.xhtml
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_000.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_001.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_002.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_003.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_004.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_005.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_006.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_007.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_008.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_009.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_010.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_011.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_012.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_013.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_014.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_015.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_016.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_017.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_018.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_019.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_020.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_021.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_022.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_023.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_024.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_025.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_026.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_027.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_028.html
Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 4 - Night of the Loving Dead_split_029.html