“This came for you, Jennifer.”
Jennifer turned to see Peter Johnson, the man who had been delivering the station's mail since before she was born, standing next to her desk. He handed her an envelope.
“Thanks, Peter,” she said. “How are you doing today?”
“Not bad. Except for this damn heat.”
“It's miserable isn't it?”
“Sure is. If I wanted this kind of weather I would have moved to Florida a long time ago.”
Jennifer laughed. “I hear ya. Try to keep cool.”
“You too.”
Jennifer smiled at Peter as he shuffled away from her desk. Like every place else, the station received less snail mail all the time. She hoped Peter would want to retire before the station decided to eliminate his position. She knew he was old enough to retire and had been for years, but he didn't seem to have much in his life besides his job. She hated to think of him being forced out.
She glanced at the white envelope he had given her and felt a twinge of alarm. Her name and the address of the station were hand-written in pencil and the envelope bore no return address. While it was probably nothing more than fan mail, which she and the rest of the anchors still received through the regular mail on occasion, something about the envelope made her uncomfortable.
When she opened it and took out the enclosed letter, she knew her instincts had been correct. “Who do you think is next?” was printed in large letters at the top of the page and underneath the question was a picture of Smokey the Bear at the scene of a fire. The image looked like one of the ads about preventing forest fires that she remembered so well from her childhood in the 1980s. She turned the paper over and found it blank.
Jennifer set the letter on the desk in front of her and stared at the precisely written question. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest.
“Oh my,” she said.
****
Chapter 13
Jamie sat on the floor of his apartment wearing only his boxer shorts. He was thrilled to be working the night shift tonight so he could work on his rituals today. He needed the rejuvenation.
Keeping with the ancient customs of the Roman worshippers of Vulcan, he had hung all of his clothes outside on his patio to allow them to soak up the sun. He kept all the lights off in his apartment, which wasn’t a hardship with the sun blazing through his windows, and surrounded himself with candles.
Sitting in a traditional yoga pose, Jamie placed his hands palms up on his knees. He closed his eyes and focused on regaining the peace and strength that the previous spells had taken out of him. It was difficult to focus, as he was so eager to know if the police detectives and the reporter had received his letters yet. Chances were good but he couldn’t be sure. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the walls of their offices.
But of course a mere fly was far beneath anything he already was and aspired to be.
Jamie had always found it revolting that his family had wasted the magic that had been their birthright. When he’d learned about the powers he had inherited from his great-grandfather, he couldn’t believe neither his father nor his grandfather had ever made use of them. From what he could ascertain of his family history, his great-grandmother was the only member of his family who had respected the powers after her husband had been killed. She had been terrified of his book but had kept it in honor of the man who had last used the Dzubenko family magic. She had also tried to convince her son about the presence of the supernatural in the world, but he had dismissed her beliefs as nothing more than the ravings of a grief-stricken woman who had never recovered from the murder of her husband.
As a result, Jamie had nothing but contempt for his grandfather and his father for that matter. They had both turned their noses up at the idea of magic and the supernatural. He never would have learned about his gifts if he hadn’t stumbled upon his great-grandfather’s book in the attic of his childhood home. His parents had tried to dismiss his questions about the book but he’d been undeterred. He knew from the moment he’d opened the book that he was meant to have it. He knew that it was special. And he knew that he was too.
On the surface, Jamie didn’t seem like anyone who would be called special. He was a small man with mousy brown hair, a sharp nose and beady eyes. It was a combination that gave him the look of a rodent. When he was younger he’d been teased and called more rat nicknames than he could remember. But none of that bothered him once he’d found the book. The book that showed him who, and what, he really was.
It had been a challenge to learn the Ukrainian language needed to understand the text, but he’d finally worked it out. As time went on, the magic somehow took over and he had become a master of the language despite never having any formal training. He’d fallen in love with the ancient words and phrases he could use to make magic. Above all, he’d fallen in love with the words he could use to make fire. It was through fire that Jamie had learned what he was meant to be.
After ridding himself of his family and childhood home, Jamie had immersed himself into the study of his ancestor’s magic. He’d learned of the Ukrainian’s ability to fight vampires and other creatures of the night through fire and other spells of black magic.
He’d also read the prophecies of Nostradamus and came across a prediction of a city gone bad that would need to be destroyed by Vulcan, the Roman god of fire. As Jamie had aged, his revulsion for the city of his birth had grown steadily. He believed it needed to be destroyed and that he was the man to do it. Through his magic, he could become a god and the modern day incarnation of Vulcan.
The power was intoxicating and Jamie felt more god-like with each spell he brought to fruition. He could feel the ancient power of Vulcan working through him and he almost pitied the cops who would task themselves with trying to stop him. Almost.
Mostly he felt contempt for them just as he felt contempt for the rest of the mindless robots wandering through this barren city. The cops would never be able to stop him and before the summer had ended the entire town of Fairbanks would be laid to waste. Jamie would be the only one left standing.
His plan had started better than he could ever have dreamed; convincing him even more that he was on the right path. Now his dream was becoming reality. And the fun was only just beginning.
****
Chapter 14
Danny and Tessa walked into the police conference room and sat down across from a frustrated Jack Meyer and an increasingly bedraggled Anthony Rizzo.
“What do we have?” Danny asked.
“We’ve got a shit storm is what we have,” Jack said. “As you can expect, forensics couldn’t find a single print on the letter. The words were written with a standard number two pencil that you can buy at any Walmart in the freaking world. The paper was the equally standard eight and a half by 11-inch 20-pound office paper. If you do a google search for Smokey the goddamn Bear you’ll find the image our guy sent on more pages than I can count. We’ve got guys searching the IP addresses of visitors to the sites looking for a local connection, but right now it’s a needle in a haystack.”
“What about the postmark?” Tessa asked.
“It’s the main Fairbanks branch downtown here. The letter was mailed yesterday. We’re going over footage from the cameras inside the post office but unfortunately there aren’t any cameras on the street outside where the mailboxes are. I don’t think the cameras are going to give us shit anyway because this jackass could have used any number of mailboxes all over the city. They all go to the downtown branch.” Jack paused and let out a breath. “Now tell me, do you two have anything? For once, please say yes.”
“The prints on the baseball game victim matched Nick Torrance’s old police record. He’s our victim,” Danny said.
“Alright so we’ve got Nick Torrance and Max Fugate. What do these two have in common?”
“So far, nothing,” Tessa said. “Nick worked in IT and Max was a doctor. Max was a life-long Fairbanks resident and this convention wa
s Nick’s first visit here. They were obviously both joggers and both men, but other than that we haven’t found anything.”
“Torrance was gay, right?” Jack asked. “What about Fugate?”
“We don’t know. We’re getting ready to head out and talk to his family and colleagues,” Danny said. “See what we can learn about him.”
“Good,” Jack said. “I need to set up a press conference too. We can’t keep the media out of this much longer.” He shook his head. “I just hate to start a panic. People are freaked out enough by the baseball game. Now when they hear about Fugate…”
“Honestly, sir, they’re right to be afraid,” Danny said. “People are being burned alive. Aren’t we all freaked out?”
Jack scowled. “Of course we are, Fitzpatrick. But the police of all people don’t need to start a panic, do they?”
A knock on the conference room door interrupted the meeting.
“Excuse me, Captain Meyer?”
Mark Chambers, the desk sergeant who had handed Tessa and Danny the envelope earlier was now at the door.
“Yes, what is it? We’re in a meeting here.”
“Sorry, sir, but Jennifer Higgins from Channel 10 is on the phone and says it’s urgent she speak with a detective. She said it’s about the baseball game fire.”
Jack’s scowl deepened. “Oh Christ here we go. God damn the media.”
Danny stood up from his chair. “I’ll talk with her. Jennifer and I go way back.”
“You’ve only lived in Alaska for what, a goddamn year? How far back can you go?” Jack asked, his face reddening with each word.
“As long as I’ve been here,” Danny said.
He left the room and headed for the main desk of the station. He liked Jennifer Higgins in spite of the fact that cops and reporters typically weren’t pals. He had made a fool of himself while in a drunken stupor and hit on her at a local bar not long after he’d moved to Fairbanks. She hadn’t been interested in his drunken advances and had actually tried to help get him home before he drank any more. He’d behaved like an idiot, likely even more so than what he actually remembered, but Jennifer had never held it against him and had accepted his apology the next time they’d met.
“Hey Jennifer, it’s Danny Fitzpatrick,” he said, picking up the phone.
“Hey Danny. I was hoping you’d take my call.”
“What’s up?”
“I think you’re going to want to come over here to the station.”
“Why’s that?”
“I just got a really strange letter that I think is connected to the fire at the baseball game.”
Danny’s stomach tightened. “A letter, huh? I have a feeling I know what it says.”
“I’ve hardly touched it. I’ve got it here on my desk and I thought you guys would want to come get it.”
“We do. And we’ll be there shortly.”
****
Chapter 15
Tessa and Danny headed to the home of Max Fugate’s parents while the forensics team investigated the letter that had been sent to Jennifer Higgins.
They drove up to a tidy ranch home on Chestnut Street and pulled into the driveway next to a Toyota Corolla.
“I wonder if this is the Fugate’s car or if someone else is here,” Danny said as he got out of Tessa’s Subaru.
“Maybe it’s their daughter,” Tessa said. “I hope it is. Hope they have someone here with them for support.”
“Yeah,” Danny said. “Might be easier for us to talk to the sister too. I didn’t check on the ages of the parents but they have to be in bad shape. What a nightmare for these people.”
Tessa nodded and walked to the porch where she knocked on the Fugate’s front door. She and Danny both flashed their badges at a middle-aged woman who answered the knock.
Danny introduced himself and Tessa as homicide detectives as the woman opened the door to let them inside.
“I’m Cassie Jenkins,” she said. “Max is…” she paused and cleared her throat. “Max was my brother.”
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Tessa said. “Could we talk to you a bit about your brother? We’re trying to learn more about him so we can figure out who might have done this to him.”
Tears fell from Cassie’s eyes and dropped on the beige carpet at her feet. “We’ve tried to hold out hope that Max would turn up,” she said. “We kept thinking there was just some terrible misunderstanding and we’d hear from Max any day now. But even though I knew it wasn’t realistic to think he was still alive no matter how much we hoped he was, I never could have imagined anything like this. Not even in my worst nightmares.”
“It was a terrible thing,” Danny said. “We truly are sorry.”
Cassie grabbed a tissue from her pocket and wiped tears from her face. “Do you need to talk to my parents? They’re both upstairs lying down. After the officers came to tell us Max was dead they just couldn’t….” Cassie’s words dissolved into tears.
Tessa put her hand on the crying woman’s arm. “It’s okay. We don’t need to disturb them just now. If we could talk to you that would help us a great deal.”
Cassie nodded and ushered the two detectives into the dining room. She motioned for them to join her at the mahogany table at the room’s center.
“Of course,” she said. “Whatever I can help you with, just let me know.”
“What can you tell us about your brother?” Danny asked. “We know he worked at the hospital.”
“Right. He was a surgeon. Max wanted to be a doctor from the time we were kids. He loved that game Operation. I think he was the only kid who ever took it seriously. He would actually get mad if he touched the sides and caused the buzzer to go off.”
Tessa smiled. “How long had he been at Fairbanks General?”
“Since he was in medical school. Max never had any interest in living anywhere but Fairbanks. He loved it here.”
“Were the two of you close?”
“Yes,” Cassie said, her voice cracking. “Very.”
“Had Max mentioned any problems he was having to you recently? Anyone he may have had some sort of altercation or disagreement with?”
“No. Max was generally easy-going. He wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense at work but otherwise he was never interested in confrontation.”
“What about relationship problems? Did he have a girlfriend?”
Cassie chuckled. “No, no girlfriend. Not since he took Jocelyn Dominick to his 8th grade dance. But he did have a new boyfriend. Max was gay.”
Danny immediately flashed back to the call from Nick Torrance’s partner. “Was he out?” he asked.
“Yeah. Since college. Everyone knew Max was gay.”
“Had anyone ever given him trouble about it? Maybe at the hospital?”
“There are always idiots around who make snide remarks. Max learned to ignore that kind of crap a long time ago. But it was never an issue as far as his job went. He is…was a really good surgeon so no one ever gave him any grief about his personal life. It’s not as if the administrators would have allowed it anyway, not in this day and age. But Max was well thought of at the hospital.”
“You mentioned a new boyfriend,” Tessa said. “What can you tell us about him?”
“Not much. They weren’t together long before Max…” Cassie blew her nose and wiped more tears from her eyes. “His name is Kris Anderson. He’s a paramedic. Max and I only had one conversation about him. He said he really liked him but wasn’t sure if Kris liked baseball or not. Max joked that it would be a deal-breaker if he didn’t.”
“So your brother was a baseball fan?”
“Big time. He followed the Mariners and loved watching the Goldpanners in the summer. Max was a good athlete. He played baseball himself all through school and he loved running now.”
“He was a fit guy?”
Cassie nodded. “Yeah. He was kind of vain about being in shape to be honest,” she said with a slight smile.
“What about previous
boyfriends? Relationships gone bad?” Tessa asked.
“He dated Michael Stevens for years but it didn’t really end badly. Mike was a surgeon too and took a job in San Diego after his residency. Max didn’t want to go with him. It was an amicable split though as far as I know.” Cassie let out a deep breath and struggled to keep her voice even. “Honestly, my brother was a happy guy. He didn’t have a lot of drama in his life. I can’t imagine anyone he’s ever known doing something like this.”
Cassie clutched her arms around her stomach and dissolved into another round of tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t know what to tell you.”
Danny glanced at Tessa as he reached out and covered Cassie’s hands with his own. “Nothing to apologize for, Cassie. You’ve been very helpful. I’m so sorry again about your brother.”
Cassie nodded and continued to cry.
The two detectives got up from their chairs and left their business cards on the table.
“We’ll leave you alone now,” Tessa said. “Please give your parents our condolences. We’ll be back to talk to them another time.”
“And if you think of anything new that you think may help, give either one of us a call,” Danny said. “We’ll show ourselves out.”
As they left the house and walked back to Tessa’s car, Danny cursed the day he’d ever decided to become a cop. Of course, it was the only thing he’d ever planned to be, much like Max Fugate had apparently always wanted to be a surgeon. If Danny had understood the strain of dealing with people who were suffering horrific losses he would have followed another path. Or perhaps it was just since he lost his beloved Caroline that he felt this way. Now each visit with a grieving loved one brought his wife’s murder back to his mind in crystal clarity. He knew all too well about the gaping hole that was now in the Fugate’s lives.
Polar (Book 2): Polar Day Page 6
