by John Conroe
“The only problem I have with your theory, Gordon, is the first two vics were killed deep in the woods with gunshots to the head from an elevated position. The bodies were then dragged through rough terrain for several hundred yards and finally strung up in trees. It would take a very strong female to accomplish that.”
“Maybe she used a block and tackle or a come along?” I suggested.
“Or maybe she has a helper,” Stacia suggested. Krupp and Dison both turned to look at her.
“Well you can only see this part of the alley if you’re on the second floor. How would she know when to flaunt herself unless someone else was watching the group as they ate dinner?”
I walked over to the apartment building wall, where someone would be most visible to the restaurant. The hard pavement had patches of dirt and dust. Thin tire tracks were visible in one spot.
“Someone park a bike here?” I asked.
“Those tracks are consistent with an older model Schwinn bicycle,” Connor said. “and before you ask, yes we questioned the residents of the building. No one rides a Schwinn.”
“Where, in the restaurant, was Masten’s group sitting?” I asked.
“Front right corner,” Connor answered.
I walked across the street, past our car. Three houses were directly across from the restaurant, all apparently converted to apartments. Looking back at the restaurant it was obvious that only the third one, farthest from our car, had the right angle to see into the restaurant. The house had a driveway that ran down the left side of the property. The driveway followed a white, six-foot fence for the back yard of the next house down which was a corner property. It was a modern vinyl-type fence that blocked all view into the corner house’s yard. Pulling myself up and peering over the fence showed a cluttered backyard filled with a jumble of children’s toys. A raised metal fire pit sat ten feet from the corner, surrounded by a mix of folding camp chairs. A small stack of firewood was stacked against the fence just under my viewpoint.
“A lookout could easily stand on that wood pile and watch over the fence, then let the female know when one of the group headed to the john. Did they come here often?” I asked.
“Yeah, Masten said it was his favorite restaurant up until the shooting,” Dison said.
“The killers spent a lot of time studying Masten and his group. This was pretty carefully set up.”
“Congratulations Gordon, you’ve recreated the same scenario we did,” Krupp said.
“Yeah, but in like ten minutes. And we didn’t have the murder weapon sketched out quite so clearly,” Connor said. Krupp glared at him.
“I mean we knew it was a single-shot Rossi in .357 magnum, but we hadn’t sussed out the possibility of the oil filter suppressor,” he clarified defensively.
“How did you know where the murder occurred, Gordon?” Mazar asked.
“Granger told me it was in an alley outside the restaurant. This is definitely more of an alley than the florist side,” I answered with a shrug.
“So no psychic visions of the killers’ faces?” Krupp asked sarcastically.
“Not a blip,” I agreed.
“Some psychic!” Dison said. I used to be a cop too and recognized that he was baiting me. I ignored him.
“Boss, we struck out on the common rapes theme around Pikeville,” Briton said as she and Lyle approached. Krupp started to turn a smirk in our direction, but the blonde agent held up one hand. “But we got a possible hit on a crime in the center of the state, quite a bit west of Pikeville.”
Lyle said, “A husband and wife were murdered seven months ago near Irvine, which is outside Richmond, and right up against the Natural Bridge state park.”
Krupp raised her eyebrows in question. Briton answered her. “The Masten group does a lot of camping in that park.”
“Any surviving family?” Dison asked.
“Sixteen-year-old daughter and an eighteen-year-old son. Family owned a horse farm.”
“What’s the daughter’s name?” I asked.
“Elizabeth J. Sutton,” Briton answered. “The son is Alex M. Sutton.”
“What does the J stand for?” I asked.
Both agents paused while they searched their databases.
“Jetta,” Lyle answered first. Stacia and I stared at each other in shock.
“Care to let us in on the secret?” Krupp demanded.
“The heavily perfumed waitress at the restaurant is Jetta. She told me she was from Kentucky and that her parents were murdered.”
“She told you all that? Not much for keeping secrets for a budding serial murderer,” Dison noted.
Stacia snorted. “You’d be surprised what girls will say if they have the attention of my friend here,” she said with a nod in my direction.
They all stared at me for a second, then Briton nodded. “Yeah, no shit!” Her face went pink as soon as she said it and she immediately looked down at her computer . Krupp gave her a speculative glance, then turned into boss agent.
“Everyone, back to the restaurant! Now!”
Chapter 12
“That scenario make sense?” I asked Stacia as we followed the agents back to the hotel. They had raced off while we followed at a more sedate and less law-breaking pace.
“Totally. Male weres are horndogs, always looking to score. Masten’s group is a bunch of twisted rapists to begin with. They wouldn’t be able to say no to a chance to dominate a young girl like your waitress.”
“That’s why she wore so much perfume, to cover her scent,” I noted. “A family of horse people would likely know a thing or two about hunting predators. Just different bait.”
“Yeah, she won’t be there when we get back. She’s too smart.”
“Why did she tell me about her parents, then?” I asked.
Stacia sighed. “Even smart girls get stupid around attractive men.”
“That simple?” I asked.
“Who knows? But it could easily be that simple. Remember, she’s young and parentless. Almost everybody falls for the Halo Effect at one time or another.”
“The what?”
“Halo Effect. We covered it in Psych 101 at Columbia. We automatically give more credibility to attractive people. Girls use it to great advantage, but we also fall victim to it. No matter how smart she is, she could easily be swayed by a really good looking person she thinks is human who commands the respect of both werewolves and FBI agents.”
“Respect? Agent Krupp? You’re joking, right?”
“No. What self-respecting Special Agent gives any credence to a psychic? And Mazar? She wasn’t with the team last night, but she shows up today and nobody on the team interacts with her. She’s a plant. Why else would Krupp ask you to look at the scene? When she threatened to shoot 'Sos, she was already on edge. Mazar is using her to test you.”
“Look at you—single-handedly destroying the blonde stereotype all over town!”
“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone ‘cause the whole stupid blonde thing is really useful,” she said with a grin.
We arrived at the hotel about then and spotted Krupp standing in the parking lot, giving orders to her team. Mazar stood back, working on her iPad and generally separate from the team. Krupp was looking decidedly unhappy.
“She gone?” I asked through the open window of the Volvo. Mazar was suddenly attentive, watching as Krupp responded.
“Yeah, her supervisor said she seemed unhappy after we left, worried about something. She left her uniform and took off almost immediately. Her job application lists a bogus address. She’s only worked here about three weeks.”
“Well, glad we could help. Good luck with the case, Agent Krupp,” I said.
“Where the hell are you off to, Gordon?” Krupp asked, suspicious.
“Lunch. I’m starving. Then I have some heavy feng shui to throw around at the Grangers’ place. See ya,” I said, giving an extra wave to Mazar, who looked curious as hell.
I pulled back out onto the road.
“What are you hungry for?” I asked Stacia.
“Seafood,” she said instantly. I glanced over at her; she was holding her smartphone up. A local seafood restaurant was on the screen, the picture showing a huge saltwater aquarium in the restaurant dining room.
“Hmm, good choice.”
The giant aquarium formed part of the wall separating the restaurant entryway from the dining room. It was easily eight feet long and three feet wide. A big block of twisted black coral took up the center, providing dozens of nooks and crannies for the multi-colored fish. Inspecting it closely revealed that the dark coral rose almost to the top of the tank and had a couple of openings that looked big enough to house a moray eel… or a paperback-sized book.
“Good afternoon and welcome to Captain Henry’s…” the pretty young hostess said, trailing off as she got a good look at my violet eyes.
“Hi yourself!” I said, moving closer and focusing a big smile at her. Her heart rate climbed by a third as she immediately smiled back. “Table for two? My cousin and I are starving. And do you have take-out?” I asked. Her smile got bigger as she heard the word cousin and she immediately grabbed a take-out menu along with two lunch menus.
“Follow me, please,” she said, flipping her brown hair and smiling at me again. She pretty much ignored Stacia. Walking just ahead of me, she glanced back over her shoulder to make sure I was close. I was, faithfully playing the role of interested flirt so Stacia could hang back and tuck the zip-lock-baggie-wrapped book into a salty hidey hole in the aquarium.
Ten seconds later, we arrived at the table and only then did the hostess notice we were missing someone. She frowned slightly but smiled when Stacia appeared, weaving her own way to us through the crowded restaurant.
“Sorry. I was looking at that striped eel and I didn’t realize you two had left me behind.”
“Yeah, isn’t it great!” the hostess bubbled. “Love your shoes!” she said with a glance at Stacia’s feet.
“Thanks,” my partner smiled back.
“Well, here are your menus, and your waiter, Patrick, will be right over,” she said, giving me another big smile, then twitching her way back to her hostess station.
“Wow, if she put any more swing in that walk, she’d throw her back out,” Stacia noted before turning her attention to the menu.
“Your turn,” I noted as I saw the waiter approach.
Stacia glanced up, then looked back down at her menu. “Nope, still you,” she said, which made me look up in confusion. Then Patrick arrived.
“Hello, I’m Patrick and I’ll be taking fabulous care of you today!” he said with a flamboyant twirl of one hand and all his attention focused on me. Stacia grinned at me from behind her menu.
“Can I get you pretty people some beverages?”
We each ordered milk.
“Patrick, we have to bring some food back to the rest of our group. Can I place take-out orders now?”
“But of course!”
I ordered two salmon entrees and a spaghetti and meatball dinner for 'Sos. When he returned with our drinks, we ordered calamari and crab cake appetizers along with bowls of lobster bisque and lobster rolls. Patrick finished writing up the order, then made a show of looking both of us over, tsking as he did. “I would blow up like a dirigible if I ate half that much,” he noted. Then he looked back at Stacia’s feet. “Fabulous shoes, girl!” then swished away to turn in our order.
“What do I do with this?” Stacia asked, showing me the empty wooden book box in her purse. I thought about it for a minute till an idea popped into my head.
“Let’s put something else in it. Something from the emergency kit in the car.”
She frowned, obviously thinking about the kind of items the Pack keeps in its car emergency kits. Let’s just say that the list wouldn’t match up with Triple A’s suggestions.
“You think that will fool anyone?” Stacia asked.
“Only for a minute or two, but that could be a whole lot of time,” I said.
“Especially to Grim,” she agreed.
The food came quickly; we ate, paid our bill, and took 'Sos’s food out to where he was waiting impatiently in the car. The Volvo shook a little from side to side as he chowed down, making the drive to the Grangers’ house feel like we were driving through a seismic shockwave. Stacia rummaged through the kit, finally holding up the very item I had thought of. I nodded at her raised eyebrows and she carefully fitted it into the box, then tied it closed with a ponytail holder, even going so far as to attach a note warning that opening the box was dangerous.
A big black Ram pickup truck was the only vehicle waiting in the driveway of the Granger house. Jep unfolded himself from the driver’s side like a Transformer, his head well above the roof of the big truck.
“I’ve kept everybody out, but Ned wondered if we can use the house tonight. Our pack is hosting some important visitors from Europe and this would be the best location if it’s not overrun with demons and shit,” the big man rumbled.
“Jep, it will either be safe to use or it will be a blast crater. We’ll know pretty quick. Why don’t you lead Stacia and Awasos back out to the road. Maybe get a quarter mile or so away,” I said.
“Fuck that! I’m here,” Stacia said. Awasos woofed four times in rapid agreement with her statement.
“Guys, I don’t think there’s much of anything for you to do. If I fail at this, the whole thing will go to shit,” I pleaded.
“Well then, you’ll just have to get it right the first time, won’t you!” she said, her stance daring me to attempt to make her leave. The furry beast by her side crouched down, braced for anything.
I looked at them for a moment or two, then shook my head. “Jep, you at least should get a safe distance away.”
“No sir. I’ll stay on site in case you need anything,” he said, crossing his own arms.
They were all nuts.
“Alright, let’s do this!”
Chapter 13
The house was as creepy as ever, tainted almost since its construction. I stopped just outside the door to the third floor staircase to give Jep one of my anti-demon necklaces.
“When we go up, I’m going to close the portal with my aura. As I understand it, the power built up in the house by all of the dark rituals that occurred here allowed the girls to complete the spell that ripped a hole in the barrier between this world and Hell. The spell was probably partially completed decades ago and was sorta tripped by the kids. Almost prearranged, so to speak.” All three nodded back at me, even the wolf. Jep noticed 'Sos’s head bob but didn’t comment, just looked slightly shocked.
“When I start this, the portal will project feelings of helplessness and uselessness. It’s a protective measure to get me to stop and give up; sorta built-in defenses. We can’t allow that. I have to finish once I start or the results will be bad. There may be more active defenders as well,” I said. I didn’t know for sure about the last part, but it made sense, as the gate had been fully open last night and who knew what might come through.
“Define bad?” Jep asked.
“House swallowed by gaping Hellhole, but that’s just the start, as the portal will be a hundred times bigger at that point, letting all kinds of things through. Things may try to come through while I’m closing the gateway. You three need to stop them. Jep, you might want to be in beast-man form if you can swing it. Awasos, bear form. Stacia, I need to you stay human so you can talk to me if I start to lose it. Maybe we can find a weapon for you.”
Jep snorted. “I got just the thing! The Boss keeps it for Rose to use if we are attacked by a were gang.”
He disappeared into Ned’s bedroom, returning a moment later with a Mossberg semi-auto shotgun. It was a tactical model, eighteen-inch barrel, extended magazine tube, attached weapon light, and ghost ring combat sights. The sling had a bunch of extra shells attached to the sewn-on webbing.
“Can you handle this?” he asked Stacia, looking at her uncertainly.
“My dad was an Army Ranger, my uncle is a Vermont State Trooper. I got this,” she said firmly.
Jep glanced my way, obviously impressed, but all he said was, “I’m going to go Change.”
At the word Change, Awasos flickered and suddenly expanded into his full bear mode. Despite himself, Jep fell back a step.
