Johnny was getting ready to wheel around on Rob and let the kid know that none of that mattered at the moment. They were all here for the same reason, and it wasn't like he was saying Rob couldn't come at all. But then there was a cry from the woman they'd just found, and Mary's brother was gone.
He was alone. Not completely, he knew that both the men he had entered the building with would come to the rescue if he needed it. They were doing what they needed to be doing at the moment, and what he wanted them to be doing. But it was just him, going for Mary. Just himself to worry about if the killer was stalking around here somewhere. He had a feeling that there was no way the woman in the other room would still be alive if the Slayer wasn't stalking around the building somewhere.
Johnny poked into a room that turned out to be a janitorial closet. There was nothing inside but what he thought had to be the most disgusting mop he'd ever seen in his life, and that was still without color.
He moved deeper into the speakeasy, walking carefully so that his shoes didn't make too many sounds. He wanted to be able to hear Mary if she made a noise, or the killer possibly. Anything that he might possibly need to hear over the sound of his own walking.
The next room he found was dark for the most part. Only a little light falling into it through a tear in the covering over the window. The shadows were deep, as it would be expected in a place that had originally been a basement. His eyes darted to every corner, and landed where the sliver of sun fell. Mary sat in it, as if she'd been perfectly positioned. Tied to a plain wooden chair.