“Nothing.”
Circe surveyed the area too and, like Diana, didn’t pick up a thing. In the dawning light of day everything appeared normal, the same sight that greeted her every morning. “I don’t see anything unusual.”
“You mean besides your car going up in flames?” The voice was Paul’s, and Circe turned to see him and Lisa standing behind them. Both were staring at Diana’s now-smoldering car. “What in the world happened?”
Briefly Circe wondered how and when he got here and then dismissed the question as inconsequential. She didn’t care about the details; she was just glad to see him.
Diana turned and caught his gaze. A look passed between them that Circe couldn’t identify. “You take east. I’ll take west.”
Without another word, they disappeared, leaving Lisa and Circe standing alone with the first responders. At least they’d managed to put out the raging fire before anything beyond the car was affected. A chill ran down her body as she realized how close Diana’s car was to her house and how easily it could have been engulfed. If she hadn’t been standing there looking at the window when the car went up in flames, at the very least her house could have burned down. At the worst, they could all be dead right now.
In only a few minutes both Diana and Paul returned. Again that look passed between them. “WHAT?” Circe demanded.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Diana said. “But it appears somebody has a hard-on for you.”
“But it was your car.” Nothing had happened to anything of Circe’s, and besides, who would give her the time of day? She was about as harmless as they came.
“The locks on the walk gates were cut again. All three of your gates were open. I think someone wanted Zelda to take off.”
That stopped her, and she dropped her hand to Zelda’s head. As in the house, Zelda hadn’t moved from Circe’s side. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Diana raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the boarded-up front window. “Does that make sense?”
Circe still wanted to believe it was all just coincidental. “I haven’t pissed anyone off.”
Paul looked at Diana and she nodded. “No one except perhaps a serial killer.”
Chapter Nineteen
Oh. My. God. That was fun. Why the hell he’d never thought to play with fire before, he didn’t know. Talk about a rush of adrenaline. Using the bolt cutters to make short work of the flimsy gate padlocks was a giggle, but improvising the explosive device was pure genius. He was going to have to remember the IED tactic in case he got another nosy Nellie like the dog handler and her mutt.
She really was a bother. If he scared her enough perhaps she’d find something better to do with her time than expose his girls. The cops hanging around her house were a little problematic, though rather convenient. He could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, and efficiency always made him happy. Take out the pain-in-the-ass dog handler and two detectives all in a single effort—it was pure genius.
Standing in the shadows of the neighbor’s shrubs he was effectively invisible in the early morning light. No one saw him. No one could. He blended in perfectly, which allowed him to watch the unfolding events from a hideaway a safe distance away.
The funny part was the way the two cops put their serious faces on. Typical cops. Always thought they had the answers and the upper hand. They really thought they’d be able to track him down. He shook his head and nearly laughed out loud. He’d been hiding in plain sight all along, and not once did either of the dimwits get a clue. They never would and that was a beautiful thing.
Maybe, just maybe, before he introduced them to his special workshop, he would let them see. Only after it was too late for either of them to do a thing, too late to stop what was inevitable. Then he would open their eyes, and it would be a glorious moment. He could almost visualize the shock on their faces. That alone was worth every risk he’d taken thus far.
Not on this morning though. This was enough for now. He could tell by their faces that they were starting to understand, and he liked the expressions of dawning knowledge. It reminded them how powerful he was and how unstoppable. The book gave him knowledge and strength. They had no clue what they were up against, and by the time they did, it would be far too late to prevent what he now considered his destiny.
Keeping to the darkest shadows, he moved away from the house where the flashing strobes of the fire trucks created a light show and the yard full of firefighters went about the work of mopping up around the destroyed car. Full daylight was on its way, and neighbors were beginning to come out to their porches to stare at the house on the corner and a burned-out shell of a car. The community was sure to be buzzing with gossip before the sun was high in the blue sky.
He’d parked his car at the grade school about an eighth of a mile away. He got in and pulled out onto the highway. Keeping to the speed limit, he drove toward town. He was smiling and wondering what she was going to do when she heard what he’d done tonight. She wasn’t going to like it, and that made his smile grow bigger. He’d been telling her for a long time now to back the hell off, but her penchant for ignoring his advice was legendary.
They were bound to have a war over this, and he looked forward to it. In the end only one winner would emerge, and he was more than confident who that would be: him.
*
It was too late to go back to bed, and Diana figured none of them would be able to sleep after the fire department left anyway. The Stevens County Sheriff’s Department responded after a call from the fire chief, and she spent a fair amount of time talking to the investigator. From the marks on her car, it was pretty clear the fire was intentionally set. A rag stuffed into the gas tank and set on fire.
Now, a rollback was in the driveway and her car on the way to evidence back in Spokane, thanks to a cooperative spirit between the local authorities and her own department. It looked sad up there on the truck bed, black and hollow, smelling of fire and gas.
In her mind this was definitely all related to their active case. They had a pissed-off serial killer on their hands. Just exactly who he was more pissed off at she wasn’t sure: Circe with her twice-vandalized house and tampered-with gates or her. Given that her car was the one he torched, Diana couldn’t be sure if he was targeting Circe and her skill at locating the dead, or her, and possibly Paul, for being the two investigators on the case.
Either way, this monster knew exactly who they were and where to find them. First, the damage at her house, and now her car while she was at Circe’s. Unless someone was following her, no one could possibly know where she was. This was some kind of scary shit.
“Here.” Circe handed her a mug of coffee. “You look like you could use a caffeine intervention.”
Gratefully, she accepted the mug of coffee served just the way she liked it, strong and black. Nothing she hated more than ruining a good cup of coffee with sugar or cream, or, God forbid, both. “Thanks.”
Paul and Lisa joined them, and the four of them sat around the kitchen table in silence. The surreal feel to everything that had happened seemed to hit each of them at the same time. It sure as hell did for her, particularly since her car was now a pile of blackened metal. She loved that car, and it ticked her off that someone would intentionally set it on fire. It didn’t even seem possible someone would do something so evil. Who would do that?
It was a stupid question. In her heart of hearts she felt certain it was the same person responsible for killing those women and burying them in shallow graves all over the city. Not just shallow graves. No, this crazy bastard buried them just yards away from popular recreational areas. How incredibly sick. She’d been around killers her entire career. Sometimes she thought she could understand them, or at least what drove them. Not that she agreed with them, just that she could comprehend how they came to be at the point where they took a life.
But not this one. Not the bodies left like trash or the reports from the ME about the amount of blood loss each had sustained or the multip
le stab wounds. Not the things that had been happening to her, to Circe, to all of them, really. And she hated it when things didn’t make sense. Drove her nuts.
True, people in her profession had to think outside the box on a regular basis or they’d never get the job done. Even so, much of what they did and the things they discovered contained a certain logic. This didn’t.
She was still mulling over how to proceed, and she suspected Paul was doing the same, when Circe spoke up. “What should we do now?” She had a mug between her hands and was turning it around and around without spilling a drop of coffee.
They all turned her way and looked at her expectantly. Even Paul stared at her as if waiting for her to impart great answers to them, which surprised her, considering he usually tossed out ideas on investigations first. She kept recalling something her dad was always saying: “Don’t be on the defensive.” Right now this bastard had them all on the defensive, so they were playing a constant game of catch-up. That was going to stop this instant. Dad was right. Besides, she always liked offense better anyway.
Setting her mug down on the table, she swept her gaze across all three expectant faces. “We’re going to track this son of a bitch down.”
*
For a change everything at home was quiet. He would have put a hefty bet on her throwing a tantrum over his night’s activities, but she was uncharacteristically silent. He should probably be nervous by her non-reaction, but honestly he was too damn happy with himself to let it bother him. Instead, he opted to view her silence as an unexpected gift and to accept it with grace.
The key from his pocket unlocked the basement door. An unpleasant odor wafted through the air as he pulled the door open, a reminder of her earlier out-of-control behavior. At the bottom of the stairs he took hold of the broom and began to work. As he swept and mopped his workroom, attempting to put it back in order, his fury tried to rise a number of times. Each time it did, he took it down with the gratitude that her absence created. It was simply much easier to work and think when she wasn’t around. He so looked forward to the day when that was a permanent condition. If things kept going the way they had the last few days, that permanent situation would arrive sooner than he envisioned.
With every last shard of glass swept up, undamaged jars returned to their rightful spot on the shelves, and the floor once more spotless, he paused to survey the extent of damage she’d caused. Sadly, it was fairly extensive. Yet as he studied the jars remaining it occurred to him that it wasn’t as catastrophic as he first thought. He’d be able to restock it all again without too much trouble.
Besides, though he would never admit it to her, tracking down additional subjects didn’t upset him very much. During his time away from Spokane, he’d been able to test his skills and had developed much of what he used now. After he had the De Nigromancia it had occurred to him that, in a way, he was going to school. Everything he’d done in all the other places was a sort of homework. Then he came back home and everything came together, and it turned out not only was the work necessary, but it was fun. Who knew?
Or maybe he’d been fooling himself all along. At some level he probably always knew he was a natural for this kind of work. What about all those incidents with the neighborhood dogs and cats when he was in middle school? And then in high school, well, nobody talked about that. In at least six cities, many unsolved disappearances took place. It made him smile to think about it even all these years later.
Truth was he’d always been in the game. The book simply gave him focus and an avenue to channel his energies. It promised him the things everyone desired: money, success, power. Everything he’d learned along the way would come together to create rituals that would result in his achieving all his heart desired. The small rituals he’d tested so far had turned out to be huge successes. When he had his shelves restocked, he’d be ready for the mother of all rituals. He would become untouchable. The thought made his body buzz.
Peering at his precious jars he had an epiphany. He needed subjects, he needed to teach her a lesson, and he needed to get rid of one pesky K9 and her handler. The plan was flawless, everything he needed, and it would all come together in perfect harmony.
God damn, he was good.
Chapter Twenty
Paul waited in the living room while Lisa got ready for her classes. Given everything happening around them, he refused to leave her here by herself. Nor did he want her going into town alone. Call him old-fashioned but he was determined to make sure she was safe. He planned to personally deliver her to classes and pick her up after she was done. Until the crazy bastard doing this was caught, he had every intention of becoming her shadow. Any good cop would do the same thing, given this set of circumstances.
Or, perhaps more accurately, any good cop who was totally infatuated would do it.
Then again, did his actions make him different from Brenda? She was always there, watching him, spying on him, and noting his every move. Was he veering into the land of stalker? Or was his insistence of taking Lisa to school and picking her up something different?
Yes, his mind screamed. Yes. Nobody was threatening him. No one had chucked a brick through his window or turned his car into the towering inferno. Brenda was infatuated with him only because he was who he was, not because he was in danger.
He had every reason to be scared for Lisa. Danger wasn’t just a theory; someone had threatened her and Circe. That’s what set him apart from Brenda. His concern was because of very real, very tangible danger.
But Will’s call chilled him even more than what had happened at Circe and Lisa’s house. It frankly didn’t make sense. Brenda lived by herself. He was sure of it because he’d been there right after she moved out of his house and back into her own. It was embarrassing to admit she’d sucked him in for one lone roll. He’d been weak and, more embarrassingly, horny. It wasn’t an excuse; it was just the facts. If Diana knew, she’d say he let the wrong head do the thinking that night. She wouldn’t be wrong either.
Except, even given that mistake, what did he really know about Brenda? He’d been in her house and in her bedroom one single time. That was it. He hadn’t explored the rest of the house and didn’t have a reason to at the time. He’d realized as soon as he’d done it that sleeping with Brenda was a huge mistake. He’d left as quickly as he could, his own personal walk of shame.
He thought about that night and nothing unusual jumped out at him. The house, or what he saw of it, had Brenda’s touch all over it. Then again, just because he didn’t see any obvious signs of a man living with her didn’t mean much. Her decorating skills had been just about the last thing on his mind at the time. The way she was all over him, the idea she was living with another man was pretty far-fetched.
According to Will, a man was, if not living in her home, at the very least staying there. Will had seen him come and go on no less than three occasions. He didn’t see Brenda and the man together, so his observation regarding their relationship wasn’t clear at this point. But Will was absolutely certain that a man was there.
Even if he had no personal evidence to back it up, Paul had no reason to dispute Will’s report and never would. He’d learned much of what he knew from Will and owed him a great deal for helping him become the kind of detective he was today. If Will said a man was living there, then one was. Either Paul simply missed seeing evidence of a man at her house or he’d moved in after that night of poor choice.
God, he was going round and round in circles, and it bugged the shit out of him. Brenda was so unstable he was scared what she might do. Throw in some random guy, and who knew what she might be able to talk him into doing for her. Given everything else they were dealing with, he was worried he might not see her coming. She’d like that.
“What’s put that frown on your face?” Lisa kissed the back of his neck, which, in contrast to his dark thoughts, sent chills of the nice variety down his back.
He turned and looked at her, her natural beauty taking his brea
th away. With no heavy makeup or high-maintenance hairstyle, she was fresh-faced with her long hair pulled back in a clip. Simple and breathtaking. If the hideous experience with Brenda had brought him to this moment, then it was all worth it. He could spin it any way he liked, but it would all come back around to one simple truth: he was falling hard.
*
Diana stood in front of the whiteboard and studied the marks she’d made. It didn’t take an FBI profiler to see the pattern, and she kicked herself for not doing this earlier. Could be she was losing her touch. “This person is comfortable in this particular geographic area.” She tapped the marker against the board.
When she got no response from Paul, she turned. He was sitting in a chair gazing off into the distance. He had that thousand-yard-stare thing happening. Something was going on with him, beyond his getting tight with Circe’s roommate, Lisa. She actually approved of that blossoming relationship. Lisa was a night-and-day improvement over Brenda. Of course anyone would be an improvement over that nut job, and that had been her opinion even before she knew how unbalanced Brenda was.
It was about time he found a good one. In the past, he’d been drawn to women of less than Ivy League mentality. Way less. His whole approach was foreign to her; she liked to be able to talk with her dates. Obviously he’d never intended to hold intelligent conversations with most of his. But all that had changed a few days ago. Lisa was most certainly a woman of substance. Diana liked her and hoped her partner, whom she loved dearly, didn’t screw it up.
But Lisa hadn’t put that look in his eyes now. She’d place a bet on it. He was working through some other deeply felt issue.
“Paul. Dude. What’s going on?”
His head came up slowly, and for a second, he looked beyond her. Then his eyes cleared and he appeared to be with her for the first time this morning. “What?”
Necromantia Page 18
