Victoria's Destiny

by L. J. Garland

  “Yeah. Most of the places around here have Wi-Fi.” He opened the computer, tapped a few keys.

  “I need a word translated.” The last message the copycat killer had left held a clue. River paused, trying to remember the word scrawled in thin black pen. “Licentia. I don’t know if that’s the right pronunciation or not.”

  “Sounds like Greek or Latin.” Rapid tapping ensued, the reporter intent on the computer screen. “Latin. Licentia. Means license, leave, authorization, freedom, or liberty.”

  Freedom. The word reverberated in River’s mind. Does the killer believe himself free from repercussions, or is he attempting to free someone…or something? His gut tightened. And why flaunt the information in a message?

  “That what you were looking for?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” River drank his coffee and tried to get inside the killer’s head. Why does the Valentine Killer mean so much to Matthew? There must be a connection.

  “Did some other digging you might be interested in.”

  “That so?”

  “Yeah.” Lenny typed on the keyboard, a glint in his eyes. “Did a search on the weird symbol you found at the theater murder, a pointed D. Came up with this.” He swiveled the computer around so River could see. The Valentine Killer’s mark blazed on the screen.

  A chill shot up his spine, his gut twisted. He downed more java to hide his reaction. “What about it?”

  Lenny pointed at the screen. “That’s your guy’s signature.” He met River’s gaze and must have realized he’d crossed a line, because he leaned back and held up his hands. “Hey, man, Rebecca told me about it. She saw it over at the theater where the carriage driver was found murdered.”

  He ground his molars. Damn it. A critical piece of the killer’s routine is no longer secret.

  “But don’t worry.” The guy adjusted his glasses. “I haven’t told a soul. I swear. I just want one thing in return for my silence.”

  He leaned toward the reporter, revealing all the malice he’d locked inside with one murderous glare. “And what might that be?”

  “S-story.” Lenny slid back in his chair. “I want to tell the story. Maybe write a book.”

  “A word of this gets out, and I’ll lock your ass up.” He pointed a finger at him. “Forget the paperwork for impeding an investigation. You’ll just come up missing.”

  His eyes widened. “I swear. Not a peep.”

  Damn it to hell. How am I supposed to trust a guy who writes outlandish stories for a UFO tabloid? “Tell me what you know.”

  An uncertain grin crept across Lenny’s mouth. “So, I get it? I get to write the story?”

  Against his better judgment, he nodded.

  A victorious whoop erupted from across the table. “Oh, sorry.” The guy ducked his head, scanned the dining area. When he risked a glance at River, he froze. “Detective, you are a seriously scary man. Do they teach that at the academy?”

  “Just tell me what you know,” he growled.

  “Well, according to what I found online, the symbol is definitely satanic.” Lenny typed on the computer and brought up another site related to the pointed D. “The theory is it’s supposed to represent immortality. Crazy, I know. But according to what I read—and the info was sketchy, mind you—there’s this god named Thurisaz.”

  “Thurisaz.” He let the sarcasm coat the word. He should’ve known a guy who wrote stories about Bigfoot for a living would dig up research to support the most outlandish angle.

  Lenny straightened. “I know what you’re thinking. Seriously, I know what it looks like. Writing for UFOP wasn’t my goal in life, but hey, it pays the bills.” He tilted his head and grimaced. “Just forget about all that for a moment. Okay? This guy Thurisaz is one seriously evil son of a bitch.”

  River drank his coffee, said nothing.

  “The guy you’re after…the copycat killer? He doesn’t fear anything.” Lenny threw his hands up. “Why should he? He’s got the biggest, evilest bastard standing in his corner. This Thurisaz is the god of chaos and gives his hugest fans magical powers and shit.”

  Magical powers? Shit is right. His cell phone vibrated at his waist. He checked the caller ID. and tapped the Talk button. “Chastain.”

  “River, it’s Dauscher.”

  “What’s up?”

  “The waitress you had a tail on is gone.”

  His jaw tightened, and the topic he and Vicki had disagreed about the night before whispered in his ears. Destiny.

  “The….” Dauscher cleared his throat. “The officer watching her…? Hell, River. He’s dead. The bastard slit his throat.”

  He closed his eyes, swallowed. “You there now?”

  “Yeah. Sure could use your eyes on this.”

  “I hear you.” He looked toward the restrooms just as Vicki and Becca exited—all smiles and bright eyes, appearing to have forgotten their quarrel from the day before about Becca’s choice in men. “I’ll call you from the car.”

  He slipped the phone back into its holster and waved the waitress over to the table. “Can I get a coffee to go?”

  “Sure, hon.” She sashayed behind the counter.

  When he turned back, Vicki stood next to the table. The dress and heels were gone, replaced with jeans that hugged her luscious hips and begged to have his hands run over them. A sweet, low-cut top not just matched her eyes, but also displayed her ample breasts. Damn. He hadn’t even touched her and his heart raced.

  She met his gaze, and the corners of her mouth dipped. “What’s wrong?”

  Well, hell. When did she learn to read me? The waitress set a large white cup with a plastic lid on the table and rushed away.

  “Becca, good to see you again. Lenny, thanks for the help.” He picked up his coffee and eyed Vicki. “Walk me out?”

  Outside the shop, she touched his arm. “What’s happened?”

  He opened the Malibu door, waited while she slid into the seat then walked around and entered on the driver’s side. He curled his fingers around the bottom of the steering wheel, and she sat quietly while he tried to figure out what the hell to say. Staring through the windshield, he struggled with what Dauscher had told him. If he told her the destinies she saw couldn’t be changed, he risked destroying the woman he’d come to care a great deal about. And what did that mean for Becca and Lenny?

  She laid her hand on his shoulder, her touch bringing him around. Her gentle gaze caressed his face, calmed his nerves. Her lips parted.

  “The waitress,” she whispered. “He got her.”

  River nodded

  She chewed her bottom lip. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He took her hands in his. “Dauscher just called, said the officer on duty had been murdered. I’m going to the scene from here.”

  “What about…her?”

  “We don’t know. She wasn’t there.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed, bowed her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” A sigh shuddered through her. “It’s just the way things are.”

  She’d handled the news better than he’d feared. She was made of sturdy stuff, and that was good. “I know you don’t want to, but I think you need to tell Lenny and Becca about your visions.”

  She sighed. “It won’t make a difference.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “It didn’t with the waitress.” She looked down at their intertwined fingers. “There was an officer, and the killer still got to her.”

  “True.” Releasing one of her hands, he caught her chin and urged her to face him. “There are officers watching Becca and Lenny, too. So, why not stack the odds in their favor? Tell them.”

  Uncertainty shadowed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  His cell phone vibrated, and he checked the caller ID. “It’s Dauscher. I’ve got to take this.”

  She opened the car door, but he grabbed her hand again.

  “Tell them, Vicki.”

  She no
dded and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  When the door slammed closed, he answered the phone while watching to insure she made it safely inside the diner. “Chastain.”

  “Where you at, River?”

  “Had a few things to take care of.” He ran a hand through his hair and forced away the guilt jabbing his gut. He’d tried to change destiny and failed. Taking a breath, he forced himself to focus and grabbed a pen and pad. “What’s the address?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Vicki shuffled toward the diner. Through the window, she glimpsed Becca and Lenny laughing. They seemed so happy. Her heart squeezed at the realization she would be the one to shatter their illusion of a future. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back.

  She opened the door, the weight a monolithic stone in her hand. Completing the death march across the diner, she dropped into a chair opposite her best friend and the guy who’d returned the smile to her face. God, this sucks. The combined weight of truth and guilt bore down on her.

  “Hey.” Lenny narrowed his eyes. “You don’t look so good. You need some food or something?”

  She shook her head, her stomach rolling at the mention of food.

  “Coffee, then.” Becca signaled the waitress.

  A moment later, a steaming cup slid in front of her. She sipped the aromatic brew to appease her friend. Her focus moved to River’s half-empty cup still sitting on the table. Not long ago, he’d been in the café, waiting for her to finish in the bathroom. Now, he was off, inspecting a murdered police officer and searching for a kidnapped waitress. He didn’t hide from the messiness of life. He faced it head-on and encouraged her to do the same.

  Tell them, Vicki. His final words rang in her ears.

  Was she strong enough to tell her best friend she had days to live?

  She stared at them across the table. They leaned toward one another, Lenny stealing furtive glances and Becca’s lips curving into a smile. However mismatched they appeared, the truth lay in their body language. Given time, Lenny would make her happy in a way Becca’s ex-fiancé never could have.

  Except, they don’t have time.

  “I have to tell you guys something,” she blurted. She clutched her cup, her knuckles whitening.

  A slender eyebrow rose, and Becca grinned. “We have something to tell you, too.”

  “You first.” A sigh shuddered through her. Anything to put the inevitable off just a little longer.

  “Check out what Lenny found on the Internet.” Admiration sparkled in her eyes as he spun the laptop screen in her direction.

  Her breath caught. The pointed D. Coffee and acid churned in her stomach, threatened to heave up her throat. “It’s…it’s….”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s the killer’s signature.”

  “I told him about it.” Becca’s eyes reflected concern. “I hope that’s okay.”

  He patted her hand. “It’s okay. I already talked about it with Detective Chastain. He was cool.”

  “You talked with River?” Vicki swallowed. “What did you tell him?”

  “Thurisaz.” Her friend wrinkled her nose. “You found it, Lenny. You tell her.”

  “In a nutshell, the symbol represents one evil god who gives his truest followers immortality. Or at least that’s what the stuff I read online alludes.” He tilted his head and stared at her. “Hey, you about to hurl or something?”

  “I’m okay.” Vicki forced her emotions down, tried to focus on Lenny’s words.

  “Here, sweetie. Take my toast.” Becca pushed a small plate of crispy, buttered bread toward her. “I already finished a pile of pancakes.”

  She picked up a piece and nibbled on one point of the triangle. She gestured toward Lenny. “Keep going.”

  “Well, suffice it to say, the copycat killer is a huge fan of Thurisaz. He believes the evil son of a bitch—pardon the language—has made him invincible.” He raised a brow at Becca.

  Her lips thinned, and she shot Vicki a guilty look. “Yeah. Tell her the rest. If she doesn’t already know, she needs to.”

  Her pulse jumped. What has Lenny found?

  “I was digging.” He paused, adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry. But I found a lot of this stuff tied to Chastain and the Valentine Killer case out in Austin.”

  Dread seeped into her chest. “What do you mean?”

  “He tracked the Valentine Killer for over eighteen months. Lots of girls died.”

  “Yeah, but they caught the guy.”

  “True. But it turned out to be his partner. Chastain went through the wringer with the whole thing. Internal Affairs cleared him, but the public crucified him.” He winced. “I guess after all those horrible murders, they couldn’t just let things ride. The department asked him to leave. Then he ends up here in Savannah. Chasing a copycat. I mean what are the odds?”

  Vicki gritted her teeth. This sounds bad. How long will the Savannah PD. let him keep going? “As far as I know, he’s proven his innocence and his current partner trusts him. Where are you going with this?”

  “Whoa.” He held up a hand. “I’m not accusing Chastain of anything. Jeez Louise. I’m saying he’s the target.”

  “Which might make you a target, too.” Worry filled Becca’s face, and she reached across the table, her slender hand covering Vicki’s. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  A wry laugh escaped her lips, the irony not lost on her.

  “I think it might be a family member, trying to even the score.” The reporter grabbed his mug then emptied it. Signaling for a refill, he leaned toward Vicki. “Man, I’m sorry. Whoever’s doing this has one bad-ass demon in his corner.”

  She shook her head. No sense telling any of this to River, he’d never buy it. He barely believed she had visions of people’s destinies. She wasn’t sure she believed any of it herself. But why take chances? River had his methods to change destiny, and she had hers. “So, how do we stop it?”

  “I’ll have to get back to you on that.” He dumped a load of sugar into his cup.

  “Meanwhile, you need to be extra careful.” Becca squeezed her fingers. “I’m not going to suggest you stay away from River. Just keep your eyes open. Okay?”

  She sighed. “Seems we all need to keep our eyes open and stay alert.”

  Lenny’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

  Guilt weighed heavy, but she needed to share the truth. Tears burning her eyes, she clutched Becca’s hand and gave her a meaningful stare.

  Comprehension washed over her friend’s face, a gasp slipping through her lips. “You had a vision about me.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded. Hot tears streamed over her cheeks. With the back of her hand, she wiped them away and sat hunched over the table, feeling like the freaking Grim Reaper.

  “It’s okay.” A single tear slipped from the corner of Becca’s eye.

  She’s stood by my side all these years. She knows my visions come true. I just never thought my best friend…. She tore her gaze from Becca and focused on Lenny. “You, too.”

  “What?” He jolted, almost toppling his chair. Shoulders pulled up to his ears, he shook his head. His lips twisted into a snarl, and he pointed a finger at her. “I knew it. You whammied me.”

  “Stop it, Lenny.” Becca placed her hand on the back of his chair. “Sit down.”

  He sank into the seat, his expression resembling a man going under for the third time.

  “Vicki can’t whammy anyone.” Trust radiated from her face. “Do you for one minute think she’d purposefully hurt me?”

  He glanced at her and huffed like a little boy. “No.”

  “She has no control over it.” She squeezed his shoulder, the gesture of reassurance.

  “Oh, well that’s good to know.” He glared. “I thought I might be on her psychic hit list because I was falling hard for her best friend.”

  “You’re what?” Becca yanked him around to face her. “Did you just say you liked me?”

  Embracin
g Becca, he kissed her. When he finished, a sudden shyness seemed to wash over him, and he stared at her with puppy dog adoration. “I’m afraid it’s a little more than just like.”

  Her eyes softened, and she cupped his face with her hands. “Lenny.”

  Becca’s smile told Vicki everything. The two were smitten with one another. Bolstered, she dried her eyes. River thinks we can save them. There must be a way.

  “How long do we have left?” he asked Vicki, his focus never leaving Becca’s face.

  “I don’t know exactly when. But whatever happens, good or bad, it’ll be soon. For you, Becca, it’s sometime between now and next Sunday,” she whispered.

  He jumped, releasing Becca. “Eight days? Holy Moly!” He rubbed his forehead, his attention shifting to his computer. “Eight days.”

  Becca set her hand on his. “What about Lenny?”

  “I saw his yesterday at the restaurant,” Vicki admitted. “So, around thirteen days.”

  A low groan came from him, and his eyes closed.

  Becca frowned. “I thought the time period was two weeks.”

  “It is.” She sighed. “I just didn’t know how to tell you until now.”

  She nodded, accepting her fate with a grace Vicki didn’t think she herself possessed.

  “But listen,” Vicki continued. “You have to remember that there’s no guarantee that you’re fated to die. A lot of times, it’s the exact opposite, like winning the lottery or getting a great job.” She looked at Lenny. “Or writing a bestselling book.”

  Lenny snorted. “We’re tied to the killer. You know it, we know it…hell, I bet even River knows it.” He eyed her. “He does, doesn’t he? You already told him.”

  She grimaced and gave him a slight nod. “But that still doesn’t mean he’s after you. It could be that the visions about you two are because you’re involved in the case.” She wasn’t sure she believed that, but she couldn’t sit here and give her best friend and her boyfriend a death sentence. She couldn’t stand it.

  “Okay. So, then what did you see?” Bracelets jangling, Becca gestured toward her. “What were the symbols so we can watch for them?”

  Lenny’s head slewed toward Becca. “You want to know when that insane bastard is going to kill you? Good golly, woman, you’re….” His incredulous expression diminished, and a clever smile sketched his lips. “Brilliant. And that’s exactly what I love about you. If we know, we might be able to change the outcome.”