Into the Flames

by Multi-Author

  As she started to swing away, her eyes caught the red blotch of something on the mirror and she stopped, gasping as she saw what it was.

  The box of condoms hit the floor at her feet as she covered her mouth with one hand and screamed his name.

  Chapter Nine

  Duncan slammed to a halt behind Hilda, his pulse pounding. “What is it?”

  She stepped aside and pointed to the mirror above the sink.

  Red, the color of a thin layer of blood, was slashed across the glass in the form of dancing flames, which seemed to emerge from the edges of the mirror to surround the object that was carefully drawn in the center.

  The Artist’s signature, crafted in red wax.

  Surrounding the signature, in a nearly perfect circle, were the words “Someone will die.”

  Hilda backed away from the mirror, her horrified gaze riveted on it. She was shaking her head, murmuring softly.

  “No, no, no, no!”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her gently from the room. “Get dressed, honey. Try not to touch anything. I need to get a crime scene unit over here.”

  She moved stiffly toward the bed, reaching for her discarded clothing.

  Duncan returned to the bathroom and moved cautiously around the room. He took pictures of the drawing on the mirror and then searched the rest of the bathroom. On the floor behind the toilet he found a red crayon without a label. He got a Ziploc from the kitchen and bagged it. Then he dressed too and ushered Hilda toward the living room. They would wait for CSU to come and then he would take Hilda and pay a visit to Bernie Oggs. He didn’t care if it cost him his job. The madman who thought he was making some kind of statement by burning people’s homes and livelihoods down had just upped the ante.

  He was threatening murder. He had to go down.

  * * *

  A police detective arrived shortly after the crime scene unit. Detective James Raul claimed he’d been in the area and had heard Duncan’s request for backup.

  Duncan had bumped up against Raul in the past. The man was the police equivalent of an ambulance chaser, always determined to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong. Unfortunately, Raul had been at both Hilda’s house fire and, Duncan later learned, at Standish’s, and the cop was putting two and two together and not liking the number he came up with.

  Duncan probably should have thrown Raul out when he first showed up, but he decided to let him stay. Duncan could use a fresh pair of eyes on the site…just in case he missed something because of his relationship with Hilda.

  He showed Raul the bathroom and filled him in on the events leading up to its discovery…obviously leaving out the sensual event in Hilda’s bathroom.

  “So you searched the place when you got here but didn’t see anything?”

  Duncan nodded. “The apartment was empty. I did notice that the cabinet door was open in the master bath but I didn’t close it so I didn’t see the message. I just figured Hilda had left it open.”

  Detective Raul skimmed a bulging brown gaze over Hilda. “That’s a guy thing, Mr. Yves. Women don’t leave drawers and cabinets open, men do.” His smile widened. “Mrs. Raul is always on me about that.” He shook his shaggy head, his graying brown curls bouncing.

  “I don’t understand, Detective,” she said, “The door hasn’t been broken into. How did he get inside?”

  “The door has a code lock on it,” Duncan offered.

  She frowned. “Yes. So?”

  “Someone else must have the code.” Raul said, nodding. “Makes sense.”

  “As far as I know only I and the owner of the apartment have the code. Sissy added the lock right before she left for Europe.”

  “Can you give Detective Raul her name and contact information, honey? He’ll contact her and find out if she’s given the code out to anyone.”

  Raul nodded.

  “Sure.” Hilda grabbed her phone and selected Sissy’s name from her contacts, holding the phone up for him to see.

  Raul jotted the name and number down.

  “We need to find out if there’s a manager in this building,” Duncan told the other cop. He looked at Hilda. “Do you know?”

  Hilda blinked as if that hadn’t occurred to her. “I think there might be, actually. I vaguely remember Sissy talking about trying to get the woman to send somebody up to fix a leaky faucet.” Hilda shook her head. “I can’t tell you for sure, though, if she lives in the building. That was just my perception.”

  Duncan glanced at Raul and inclined his head.

  “I’m on it,” Raul said.

  They watched him leave before Duncan spoke to Hilda. “He’s threatening you directly now, which means he’s escalating. I need to find this guy.”

  Hilda suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze. “What aren’t you telling me, Hilda?”

  She sighed. “He…he texted me at the restaurant before the fire started.”

  Duncan frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m sorry, Duncan. With everything that’s been going on, it just slipped my mind.”

  “Can I see the text?”

  She went to her Messages and started scrolling through them, a frown settling across her features. Finally, after looking through her message list several times, she looked up, her expression clearly showing surprise. “It’s not here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Hilda was visibly agitated. She slid her finger over the screen of her phone, searching again. “This isn’t possible. I saw the message.”

  “Maybe it got deleted. Is it in Trash?” he asked.

  A moment later she shook her head. “It’s not there either. How is this possible?”

  “Maybe he used a text erasing service like Mission Improbable,” Duncan offered. “I’ll take your phone to the lab techs. Hopefully the text is still there or we can find it on a server somewhere.”

  Hilda nodded, looking distinctly unhappy.

  “Do you remember what the text said?”

  She considered for a moment. “Something about an artist’s pallet being his soul. And cleansing with burning… She shook her head. The fire broke out right after that so I didn’t get a chance to study it. Sorry.”

  “Did he sign it?”

  “Yes. With an A,” she responded.

  “If we can find the text, maybe we can trace it to an IP address or something.” Duncan reached out and touched her chin, giving her a smile he hoped would take some of the fear from her eyes. “In the meantime, I want you to stay with me.”

  Before she could respond, there was commotion in the hallway and a uniformed cop appeared at the door, his face pale. “Sir, Detective Raul asked me to come get you.”

  Duncan frowned. “What is it?”

  “We found the manager. She’s been murdered.”

  * * *

  Hilda waited in the hallway as police and crime scene unit personnel formed a nearly constant trail in and out of the apartment.

  The first floor apartment was located across from the elevators, not too far from the entrance of the apartment building. Clearly marked with a sign that read, Manager, the killer wouldn’t have had any trouble finding the unfortunate owner of that title.

  Hilda rubbed her arms as a chill swept her, a deep sense of foreboding setting her nerves on edge. Her cell phone rang and she looked at the screen. It was her brother. She considered denying the call, but realized avoiding him wouldn’t help. He’d just keep coming back harder and stronger. “Hey.”

  Josh let silence throb between them for a beat and then said, “Finally. What’s the deal with ignoring my calls lately?”

  Her instinct was to make nice…to defuse…as she always had with her volatile brother. But something inside her twisted in angry resistance at the thought and she spoke honestly instead. “You haven’t exactly made talking to you fun.”

  To her shock he backed right down. “I know. That’s actually why I’m calling. I wa
nted to apologize for being such an ass the other day. The only thing I can say for myself is that Yves has always brought the worst out in me.”

  “I don’t know why. He’s always treated you okay. You’re the one who’s been hostile from the beginning.”

  Another beat of silence warned her she might have gone a bit too far. But she squared her shoulders and waited him out. What she’d said was the truth and he needed to recognize it, instead of always blaming Duncan for the hostility between them.

  “I’ll admit I don’t like hearing it but…” he sighed. “You’re right. I was jealous. Dad was always comparing me to saint Duncan and, well, let’s just say I didn’t come out on top of that comparison.”

  Hilda bit her lip. “I agree, that wasn’t fair. I’m not sure Dad even realized he was doing it.”

  “Whatever. That’s all in the past. I wanted to start fresh…make amends. Do you think you and Duncan could meet me for dinner tonight?”

  Skimming a look at the apartment door across the hall she realized that wasn’t likely. “Not tonight. Something’s come up…”

  “Oh. Maybe tomorrow then?”

  “Maybe. I’ll ask Duncan and call you later?”

  “Sure. Are you okay, sis? You sound funny.”

  “It’s a long story. How about I tell it to you tomorrow night?”

  “It’s a deal. I’ll talk to you later then.”

  “Bye.”

  The door opened and Duncan was standing there. The look on his face made her lungs clench. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

  “If you think you’re up to it, we’d like you to look at something.”

  Despite the fear slicing her belly into ribbons, Hilda nodded, forcing her feet to move forward.

  Duncan blocked her entrance into the apartment. “I won’t lie, Hilda. It’s gruesome. You need to be sure.”

  She stared up at him for a long moment, everything inside her screaming for her to resist…say no. But she wasn’t going to give into that kind of weakness so she lifted her chin. “I’ll do it.”

  He opened the door wider and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to stay in there very long. Just a quick look and you can leave. Understood?”

  She nodded impatiently. At that point he had her so freaked out she just wanted to get it over with. “Let’s do this.”

  He inclined his head to the uniform standing in front of the door which, if the apartment had the same floor plan as Sissy’s, was probably a bathroom. The man stepped away from the door, throwing Hilda a look of pity that almost had her turning away and running.

  But it was too late.

  Something horrific was staring at her from inside the room.

  Chapter Ten

  Madison Lane was attached to a chair with zip strips, her arms fastened at the wrists and her legs at the ankles. Her pale, wrinkled face looked like it was made of rice paper in the brutal lighting of the bathroom and her soft, white hair formed a perfect helmet over her small head.

  The faded hazel eyes bulged with fear and pain.

  Beneath her head all semblance of humanity ended. Her torso was charred and black and bubbly, with the shocking white of bone showing through the ravaged flesh in several places. Like the head, the hands and feet were untouched, the brutal char giving way to rice paper skin in perfectly symmetrical lines, as if someone had wrapped them to create a seamless intersection of healthy flesh to burnt.

  The bathroom floor in front of the bathtub was covered in long, linen strips which appeared to be damp.

  Seeing her staring at the cloth, Duncan moved closer, speaking softly. “He wrapped her head and her extremities tightly in wet cloth so they wouldn’t burn. There has to be a reason why he would present her to us like this. Does it mean anything to you, Hilda?”

  Nausea bloomed and Hilda barely kept from throwing up. She flung a hand over her mouth and, with sheer force of will, held back the contents of her stomach. “Why…?” She swiped a hand over her suddenly moist brow and leaned against the door frame. “Who would do this?

  Duncan reached for her but she lifted her hands, not wanting to be touched. “Is this him? The Artist?”

  Detective Raul pointed to a large mirror over the sink. The letter A, formed in the rounded curlicues of another time, was carefully drawn in the center of the mirror.

  Her mouth watered and she realized she was going to be sick. Turning away, she ran from the bathroom and made it to the kitchen sink before everything she’d managed to eat over the last twenty-four hours came up.

  Duncan followed her and rubbed her back as she threw up over and over until nothing more would come up. Still her body heaved violently, as if trying to expel the taint of what she’d seen. When she was finally done she rinsed her mouth and face and, taking the paper towels Duncan handed her, dried her face.

  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

  Nodding mutely, Hilda let him lead her out of the apartment and through the lobby, into the building heat of late morning. The sun felt good against her chilled skin.

  Duncan led her to a bench underneath a large maple tree and encouraged her to sit. He watched her like he thought she was going to melt down at any moment. “Are you okay?”

  She leaned back on the bench, feeling as if her entire body were made of rubber. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that but the guy is obviously leaving us a message and I have no idea what he’s trying to tell us. I thought maybe the way she was killed might trigger something for you.”

  “Only horror and revulsion.”

  Duncan stretched his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. Hilda thought he looked a little gray around the gills too. Then she realized he would have to be completely callous not to be, and he certainly wasn’t that.

  “I just keep thinking, whoever this Artist is, that he’s targeting us specifically. But damned if I know why.” Duncan shook his head.

  She didn’t say anything because she was afraid if she did that she might lose it completely. The terrifying truth was that she’d had the same thought herself. What if she did know him? What if that poor woman’s death was somehow her fault?

  A warm hand covered her own icy one and she looked up into Duncan’s eyes, which were soft with pity. She’d seen that look of pity before, when they were kids and she’d realized nothing was as she’d thought it was…and her world was falling apart around her.

  Rejecting that pity as she rejected the memory of a terrible time in her life, Hilda jerked her hands away and stood. “I have to go.”

  He frowned, climbing easily to his feet. “Where?”

  The only place that still made sense. A place where she could shove the craziness aside for a while and immerse herself in normalcy. “Work…I…” Then she remembered she had no work. Whoever the Artist was, he’d taken that from her too.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head.

  Duncan rubbed his hands over her arms and she shuddered. “Come home with me, honey. I have a guest room and I promise I’ll give you your space. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she realized he was standing very close. Too close. And his sexy green gaze was intense. He was in full out protective mode again. Hilda remembered that all too well. She started to shake her head but he stopped her with a finger under her chin. “I insist. No strings. I promise. Just a safe place to stay.”

  A safe place to stay. She had to admit that sounded wonderful. Sighing, she nodded. “But just for a couple of days. Until I can find another place.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue with her but didn’t. “Let me just go tell Detective Raul where we’ll be. In case he comes up with anything else.”

  Hilda nodded.

  Duncan hesitated for a moment and then leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

  Nodding, Hilda watched him hurry toward the buildi
ng with a feeling of panic she couldn’t quite justify. Awareness prickled down her spine, like icy fingers touching the nerves there. She shivered, wrapping herself in a hug and turned slowly in a circle, her gaze sliding over her surroundings.

  She saw nobody or nothing out of the ordinary. Across the street a mother tugged a small boy through the intersection, her steps hasty as if they were late. Down the block, two teens stood talking, the boy’s posture possessive as he bent slightly over the girl, tucking a strand of bright pink hair behind her ear. Cars passed slowly by on the street, restrained by the sheer amount of traffic.

  Hilda was in the middle of a hub of morning activity…standing in bright sunlight…yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching.

  Her gaze slid over the glass and metal building across the street, seeing shifting shadows behind some of the windows. She squinted at the flashes of movement, wondering if the presence she felt was there…watching her from the sky.

  The door whisked shut behind her and she turned to find Duncan striding in her direction. Pulling air into her lungs, Hilda realized she needed to get hold of herself. Recent events had spooked her to the point where she was imagining boogie men around every corner. She straightened her shoulders, determined to shove the willies aside so she could help Duncan figure out what was going on.

  But something about the woman inside that apartment had bothered her. Beyond the obvious horror of the gruesome crime. Something deep inside Hilda had been jerked loose as she looked upon a monster’s terrible work. A knot of memory had been loosened.

  And that scared her more than anything.

  * * *

  Duncan stopped at the hospital on the way home and carried the coffee pot he’d liberated from Standish’s inside. He found the office of an orthopedic surgeon who’d helped him in the past and gave the machine to the woman to x-ray. Later, he stood in front of the pictures she shoved into the reader and studied the wires inside the melted mess of plastic and metal. They’d definitely been tampered with. Once the firebug had crossed the wires so that they’d start a fire, it had only been a matter of setting the timer on the pot to go off when he wanted and putting several flammable items nearby so the fire would get a healthy start.