by Mark Tufo
“You mean your rather appalling lack of one, Reece." Gerry said chuckling.
“Gee thanks ever-so-much for reminding me Chief."
“So should we go interview the good Father?” Quinn asked, trying to get our boss out of trouble with me.
“Good idea, we’ll take care of contacting the vice squads, you and Quinn try to get more info out of the good Samaritan.” We got up and left Gerald Jackson standing there with the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. There was a haggard look to his dark face that was starting to become normal. He ran his large black hand over his face and squeezed his beautiful whiskey colored eyes shut as we left. It was like he was wishing all of this undone. Unfortunately for him, genies are fiction. I do know a couple witches who could erase his memory of the events, but not the actual events themselves.
My friend Gail told me once that she was amazed at how many people came to her for a forget spell. They used it on things like rape and betrayal. One man came back twice trying to forget an ex-girlfriend. It didn’t take away love apparently, since he wound up going mad from loving this woman and offed himself. It's been my experience that people in love do a lot of stupid things; I suppose I should count myself lucky that I've never experienced 'true love'.
I hurried to the black Crown Vic we’d been assigned and settled into the passenger side. Government cars don’t have the fun things like heated seats and mp3 players. Heated seats would have been beautiful today. It was forty degrees Fahrenheit and rainy. Winter in Alabama wasn’t too bad and it really only lasted two months, but it was still winter and felt like it. I usually let Quinn drive because I loathed it so much. I'm a very angry driver and I don’t like who I became behind the wheel. Therefore I tend to let my friends and family do the driving. I especially hate driving in the winter when there is ice on the roads. We rarely have to worry about snow but hell, in my opinion, the ice is worse.
“Do I have to dunk fingers and cross myself?” I asked Quinn.
“Not if you don’t want to, and why the hell did Kelly and I make you Angel’s Godmother? I mean a Godparent is supposed to teach and mentor the child in the ways of religion and damned if you’re the least religious person I know.” He grinned at me to let me know he was kidding.
“Because everyone knows Godparent is really just a popularity contest and I’m definitely the most popular. Besides, you know if Kelly and Angel were in any danger I’d give my life to save them.” Yeah, I went ahead and got serious on him.
“Yep I do know that. I hope you know I’d give mine to save yours. You’re the little sister I always wanted Samantha.”
“Thanks Quinn. With a brother like Chad I can see why you longed for a sister.”
He stuck his tongue out at me and nodded to the left. “There’s our church.”
“Cathedral is more fitting than church. Jesus! Look at the spires and flying buttresses. It’s gorgeous. Why didn’t I know this was here? It’s only like ten miles away from my drycleaner?”
“Spires and flying buttresses? What the hell, Reece?”
“I have a degree in Architecture. Oh and in biology, and zoology, oh and of course forensics.” I tried not to bring up my array of degrees. I'd been successful at hiding them from Quinn for a half dozen years now. I hadn’t known what the hell I wanted to do in college and so I majored in several subjects. I got master's degrees in Biology and Architecture. I held doctorates in Forensics and Zoology. I was thinking I might become a medical doctor but my ability to sniff out the truth made me lean toward becoming a cop. Most of the guys in the Bureau had no clue I was so learned. I didn’t want them to know, I didn’t think I could withstand the teasing. School came easy to me and so I finished my degrees faster than most. The Lycanthropy helped in that I didn’t need as much sleep as other folks, only about three hours a night, and so I was able to pile on enough classes to earn me my various masters and doctorates. I understood the science of forensics more completely than most of the agents I worked with, it came in handy so many times and somehow it made me love my job even more.
“Holy criminy Reece! Why the hell didn’t you tell me that? You look way too young to hold so many degrees.”
“I know. I’m planning on going back for an anthropology degree and maybe psychology. I seem to have an aptitude for it.”
“You’re too much, kid. I take back what I said; Angel’s lucky you’re her God momma. Maybe you’ll be able to help us keep her on the straight and narrow?”
“Count on it. Welp, let’s go talk to the serial killer confession hearing priest. Poor guy must be shaken, not something you expect to hear at confession.”
“Yeah I bet he gets the boring old ‘I slept with my brother’s wife’ or ‘I cheated at Canasta’.”
“Canasta?” I laughed and looked at Quinn “You fucking crack me up. Oh, crap I forgot I was entering a church. Forgive me.”
“Maybe you ought to go confess your sin, for only God can forgive you your sins.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded to the sign in front of the confessionals that said the priest was ready to listen.
“Yes, I suppose I must go confess.” I winked at him and walked up the aisle to where the row of wooden stalls was located. I pulled back the thick red velvet curtain and entered the gilded walnut booth. I turned to the center stall wall and opened the partition. Holding back the urge to make a joke about voting I went with the simple “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I cursed when I walked into the church.” My radio chose that moment to squawk. The priest chuckled.
“You must be a police officer. God understands the foul language you all use in the face of the horrors you have seen. You are forgiven. What other sins do you need to confess to?”
“Actually Father, I was hoping you were the priest who took the killer’s confession. I’m Special Agent Samantha Reece. I figure if we talk in here you don’t have to be seen talking to an FBI agent. This day and age it tends to make priests look suspect. Oh geeze, I’m sorry.” I’d never been too good at filtering myself.
“I’m Father Zachariah Balthazar. You’re correct about the judgments people tend to make, but doesn’t Christ say ‘Judge not lest ye be judged’? I have to look at human kind as having sinned already, sinned horribly even, but if they believe in Christ’s deed they are healed and forgiven. Faith doesn’t always make you happy, that’s why it’s Faith and not certainty. Luckily, I believe that a man who would give his life so that we could commune with God is a beautiful symbol of what the ideal human soul is. Giving yourself up so that others may be healed or have a place in heaven is a noble and Godly deed. But I apologize, you’re not here for a sermon, you’re here because of the demon that will kill again.”
“You believe he’s really a demon?”
“I believe that he’s evil and planning to kill more people, if that’s not a demon I don’t know what is.”
“Hmm. Well you’ve given me a lot to think about and I appreciate it. Now, can you tell me about him?”
“This may seem a bit forward but I can smell that you’re a lycan. I am called to God because I can distinguish the paranormals by scent.”
“Hey, lycanthropy and vampirism are viruses. We’re not demons.”
“I know that, so does God. I was just stating a fact.”
“Oh. So, can you recall anything else the man said? How about what he was wearing, or carrying? Did you see his face clearly enough that you could describe it to a sketch artist? Did he smell of being a shifter too?”
“He called himself an artist. He said he was a tool of God. I told him he wasn’t and he got angry. Very angry. He told me that God knew he was a soldier and soon the wolf would see him as one too. I asked him what that meant and he ignored me. He didn't stay long after I questioned him on his 'mission'. He had on a bright orange backpack and he was wearing a tan trench coat as well as faded black jeans and a worn red flannel shirt. His boots were old and had a hole in the leather of the left toe, allowing the steel to be seen. They were caked in re
d mud from sole to eyelets. If I had to guess the actual shoe I’d say size twelve Caterpillars.” At my surprise he continued “I worked at a shoe store when I was fifteen.”
“That’s awesome. Helps us out a lot. You didn’t happen to work at a coat store?”
“No. Sorry I can’t give you anything more. Oh wait; he said something about walking a long way. I followed him out of the church and he turned left...if that helps? And he didn’t smell of wolf or cat lycan, nor did he have the smell of a vampire, but he sure didn’t smell normal.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Father. If you remember anything else or if he returns will you give me a call? I’ll put a card in the alms box. Also thank you for using the word normal instead of human. I’d like to think I’m still human.”
“Thank you Agent Reece, for being discreet. I don’t want to panic my parishioners needlessly. As for you being human, that’s obvious in your career choice.”
“No worries about your flock. What he told you is true. He tends to go after lycan hookers. The cop he told you about is probably a vice cop so she would have pretended to be a hooker. Now, what do you mean about my career choice?”
“You choose to help and save your fellow man; if that doesn’t make you human, I don’t know what does. That’s so sad about the policewoman. I will pray that one of the heroes doesn’t fall to the villain.”
“Thank you Father. Maybe I'll see you some Sunday.”
“I’m flattered, Agent Reece. I look forward to teaching you about our God.” He smiled at me and I smiled back. Then I stood and exited the booth. I stopped by the alms box and added my card wrapped in a fifty dollar bill. I actually trusted that this priest would put the alms money to good use. I’d been looking for a new church ever since the minister at my old one had died and they had brought in a preacher who spoke only fire and brimstone. I believed in a merciful, loving God and not the vengeful hate-filled deity the new minister was so fond of speaking about. Sadly the entire congregation dropped by more than half since Pastor Potter’s death, but the church wasn’t going to do anything about it. Minister Eye-for-an-Eye was there to stay and Pastor Potter’s lambs had to find new flocks to belong to.
“Call Gerry and tell him Grisly was last seen heading south from the church. The Father said he watched him turn left when he exited. He also told me what Grisly was wearing.” I recounted the chat I’d had with the priest. Quinn called in and relayed all the information to Gerry who would tell the fellows that were on foot and in patrol units. Quinn hung up abruptly with him when Chad rang in on the other line. He told us how there were only three wolfy vice cops in the state. We were running by all three addresses. Their bosses and co-workers knew the score and were also out looking for them. All we could do was pray that we found the next victim before the killer did. I thought about the priest and wondered if he was doing just that, I hoped he was. We could use all the help we could get. I was talking with Chad while Quinn did a quick once around in the parking lot.
“Sam! I think I found something.” Quinn hollered walking back from the dumpster behind the church. He held up a bright orange backpack and wrinkled his nose. “Oh man it reeks, what the hell was this guy carrying around in this?”
“It could be his port-a-john.” I said, looking on the bright side. I’d never thought I’d consider someone hauling fecal matter around in a tote bag a bright side, but given that or the possibility that we’d find a dismembered arm, I’d take the crap. I stifled a laugh as hope for a jar full of shit warred with my lycan enhanced nose which smelled blood and bile. Sure enough, when Quinn unzipped the bag we found pieces of what smelled and looked like liver.
“Shit. That’s an organ.”
“Liver, smells human, but maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll be canine.” I knew better but my heart always held hope.
“I’ll call this in. Let’s get a coroner out here to tell us exactly what it is. I know you say liver and you’re probably right but I have to go with protocol.” I nodded and said a silent prayer over the remains in the bag. Whomever that organ belonged to was most definitely deceased. I just hoped they were killed quickly and painlessly. However, after seeing the remnants of Grisly’s last several victims I doubted the painless part.
“Sam, can you scent our killer off this?” Quinn held out the bag out to me. What he didn’t realize was that I had already gotten a scrap of Grisly’s scent.
“Done. I can’t follow it on air unless I’m in form.” I was a little embarrassed. Were-wolves could follow any scent anytime but I was a panther (technically a black jaguar) and had to be in jaguar form to hunt by smell.
“Can you change in the car?”
“Yes.” I loved Quinn for being so nonchalant about my growing fur and claws. He acted as though I was going to hop in the car and pull on a sweatshirt. I got in the backseat and took off my clothes, taking care to fold them and layer my underclothing between my shirt and pants. Then I called to my panther to take over. It hurt, always did as muscles ripped and bones shattered reforming my body in a whole new way, but it was over quickly. I hollered for him and Quinn opened the door.
“Ready Sam?”
“Yeah. Let’s go find him.” I sighed and waited for him to put the leash and collar on me. I loathed being reined in but I understood that a large black cat could freak out the local citizenry and by putting a leash on me Quinn basically made me a pet and ‘less dangerous’ in most people’s eyes. Stupid people. Even a small cat like a serval could be deadly, whether it spent it’s entire life in captivity or not. Cats have instincts that they can’t deny as easily as a dog can. Especially when you consider dogs have hundreds of thousands of years of domesticity on the cat.
“He went this way.” I snuffled and tried not to sprint because Quinn was barely keeping up with me as it was.
“You know it’s creepy having you talk to me.” I turned and grinned at him. “That’s even creepier. No more smiling until you’re you again.”
“This is me too, Quinn.” No matter what I said, Quinn didn’t fully understand that my beast and I were one. He did better than most people however, and I loved him for it.
“Yeah I know, I just don’t like seeing you look like a reject from the Jungle Book movies.” I growled at him and he smiled “That’s better. Go find him girl.” That earned him another growl and a speed increase; call me girl and I'll make your ass run.
I lost the trail outside the Wal-Mart. Chad showed up in the Crown Vic that Quinn and I had been driving. I hopped in the backseat and changed, then dressed. I stepped out of the car as Quinn and Chad emerged from the store.
“What’s up guys?”
“He’s not in there. I ran through the cameras with security and can’t find him. I’ve got Ramirez and Scott at the entrance and exit. They’ll stay for the next few hours but I think he had a car parked here and walked from here to the church and back again. He might even have assumed we’d have dogs to follow his scent but I don’t think so.” Chad said.
“Nah, I think you’re right about a car. The range is way too wide for him to be on foot.” A thought occurred to me. “Hey guys, what if he’s a shifter?”
“But he hates lycans.”
“Exactly Quinn. He hates them. Now ask yourself, why would someone hate Weres so much? The answer is usually because either they, or someone they love, was attacked by one.”
“Jesus, Sam, that’s a damn scary thought.”
“I have a lot of scary thoughts Chad, but aside from us hooking up, that is indeed the scariest of the moment.” I stuck my tongue out at him so he knew I was joking.
“Oh, yeah. You so want me.”
“Sure Chad. You and the Ebola virus.” I rolled my eyes and giggled as he flipped me off with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.. If I ever wanted to settle down and raise a family, Chad would be the perfect guy to do that with. He was sweet, kind, loyal, and smart. The only catch is that I would never be in love with him. I love him and will always love him, but I co
uld never be in love with him. There will never be any passion or true joy in a relationship with Chad, but also there would never be any doubt or fear of him cheating or leaving me. He would always be true to me and love me and that would be enough for him. It wasn’t enough for me, not yet anyway.
We went and picked up Chad's car. He'd left it back at the church when he had brought us our car. I was feeling a bit dizzy and so I asked “Can we go grab some eats guys? I’m starving.” After I change I’m usually hungry, add a change back in less than an hour and that equals a famished kitty.
“Sure Sam. Why don’t we head to The Diner?” It was my favorite greasy spoon right off I-280. They had the best coffee and the world’s oldest, wisest, and funniest waitress. Genie was ninety-three years old and it took her ten times longer than most to get the food out to her tables but her sense of humor and the advice she gave more than made up for her slow moving.
“Genie! I’ll have my usual and a Pepsi, please.”
“Same for me.” Chad hollered.
“I’ll have the corned beef hash and two eggs sunny side up with a coffee and a sweet tea.” Quinn yelled. Genie nodded and held up a hand in a small wave to let us know she heard our orders and then turned around and yelled them to the chef. He called them back to her and when she said “Yep” he started cooking.
“Hey, dolls.” She said as she brought us our drinks.
“Hiya, Genie.”
“How are you, old girl?”
“I’ll show you an 'old girl' Mister Chad. You’re lucky I don’t smack you a good one you cantankerous young buck.” She grinned and then quickly got serious “I wish you kids weren’t Feds. You’re so good and sweet, well except you Chad." Here she winked, but her smile faded even more as she continued. "It scares the bejesus out of me that mayhaps one day you’ll get hurt. I know y'all are keeping all of us regular folks safe, but I like you kids and don’t want to see y’all hurt or dead. This old heart couldn’t stand another young’uns funeral.”
