by Jordan Dane
“This is the grand finale of a life poorly spent,” I said aloud.
The quote popped into my head and it stayed.
“Who said that?” Crowley asked.
“Jeffrey Dahmer.”
When my gaze drifted toward Athena Madero, Crowley noticed.
“She must be gut punched over this. Do you think she’s tried to warn her sister?”
I shook my head.
“No. She’s got honor and she respects the law. That’s why she’s hurting.”
I understood what personal sacrifice meant when a cop had to make tough choices. I’d seen how much family meant to Athena Madero. Her only sister. Her niece.
“Gutsy. Real gutsy.” Crowley muttered, only loud enough for me to hear. Hutch and Cam had a prelim report of the crime scene.
“We ran the fingerprints we found,” Hutch said.
“Athena, you’ll want to hear this.” I waved my hand and called her over.
My ERT stared down at the fingerprint scanner in his hand. The gadget allowed digital fingerprint images to be uploaded into AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System, and other resources.
“Some prints we couldn’t identify,” Cam said. “They’re either not in the databases we use—or since we’re at a high school—the fingerprints could belong to kids not in the system yet.”
“That’s a frightening thought.”
“Yeah.” Hutch shrugged. “We found over a dozen prints, but we got a hit on five. You ready?”
“No, but go ahead,” Athena said.
The names Hutch identified surprised me, but they nudged puzzle pieces into place. My mind reeled with motive.
“Hard to imagine Allison Barstow could keep such a secret, right under the nose of the school,” I said.
Instant fingerprint analysis showed the five dead kids—Allison Barstow, Justin Lutrell, Jeremy Butler, Candace Peters, and Sam Gillespie. Their fingerprints were in the system because of their autopsies. A tragic conspiracy of ‘black magick’ connected them all. Allison Barstow had kept a dark secret that had linked the victims, but now I had only one living connection to the deaths—Selina Madero.
From the look on Athena Madero’s face, she’d come to the same realization.
“The blood on the altar, most of it is human,” Cam said. “We won’t know who it belongs to until we run lab work, but we found a syringe with fresh blood in it. My money’s on Lutrell.”
“That means that whoever killed Lutrell by the pool, they knew Allison’s altar existed at the school.”
Selina had every reason to walk the halls of Brownsville High School. She was a student and a lonely kid, without friends to eat lunch with. In search of a place to escape the incessant bullying, the Madero girl could’ve stumbled upon Allison’s altar and easily seen she’d been cursed. Or had Allison bragged about it and Selina went looking for it on campus, in secret?
We needed Selina’s fingerprints to either rule her out or prove her guilty. My gaze found Athena Madero the minute she did the same. It was as if she’d read my mind.
“We need to talk to Selina and get her prints,” I said.
“I understand if you want me to back off now.” Athena clenched her jaw, but didn’t put up an argument.
I shook my head.
“No, I think we’ll need you, if you can handle it.”
“Thank you.”
I knew a strong woman like Athena would put family first and want to help Elisa. She’d ignore the abject knife to the gut that would come when she watched her sister break down as her little girl was taken away from their home by police. She’d navigate the criminal justice system alongside her terrified niece if she got arrested. She would help any way she could, to avoid how it made her feel inside.
Today she’d pay a price for being law enforcement. I didn’t want to make it worse.
***
Outside the Madero Home
Dusk
Ryker Townsend
When we pulled up to the home of Elisa and Selina Madero, a window curtain moved and I knew someone was inside. No one came to the door. In the quiet before the emotional storm I knew would come, I spoke to Athena, who sat in the backseat of the SUV.
“We’ll be taking her in for questioning as a person of interest,” I said. “She could be arrested.”
“I know the drill.”
She shoved the door open and stood outside the vehicle, staring at the house and ignoring my scrutiny.
“Be the tough guy for them, because they’ll need your strength,” I said. “But you don’t have to put on an act for me, for us.”
She took a deep breath.
“This hurts,” she said. “I won’t lie.”
“We won’t use handcuffs. You can ride with her in the backseat.”
She nodded.
Athena followed me to the front door and Crowley knocked. No sound came from inside the house, but the front door creaked open and Elisa Madero stood behind the metal screen. She’d been crying. When Athena stepped toward her sister, I backed away and let the women talk.
“Lo siento, mi hermana.” Athena opened the screen door and reached for the hand of her sister as she stepped inside. Crowley and I followed her into the house.
“We need to speak to Selina,” Athena said. “The FBI have come to question her downtown.”
Elisa burst into fresh tears with her face swollen and red.
“She’s not here. Selina is missing. She didn’t sleep in her bed last night. When I went to her room this morning, she was gone.”
Crowley raced through the house and headed for the bedrooms. She did a quick search and came back, shaking her head. She pulled me aside and whispered.
“There are empty hangers in the closet. Looks like clothes are missing. Some drawers are empty,” Lucinda said. “If she left last night, she could have hours on us.”
Lucinda turned toward Selina’s mother.
“Did you notice if her purse is missing?”
Elisa sobbed.
“Yes, it is. I don’t know what to do. Where would she go, Athena? I’m the only home she’s ever known, the only one who can take care of her. If something happens to my baby girl—”
Elisa Madero collapsed into the arms of her sister. A gut-wrenching day had taken a darker turn. If Selina had not slept in her bedroom last night, she had the opportunity to kill Justin Lutrell, but I still didn’t have anything more than revenge as motive.
Was Selina capable of such blind hatred? A Latin proverb came to my mind and it never rang truer. ‘Revenge is a confession of pain.’ None of us would escape untouched by the outcome of Allison’s cruelty, but whenever Selina needed to escape the girl’s bullying, she found solace in only one place.
“I think I know where she went.”
Chapter 9
Madero Home
After dark
Ryker Townsend
I had a choice—to embrace my faith in human nature or admit I’d lost all hope in personal integrity. I chose to gamble on Athena Madero.
“Stay with your sister, in case Selina calls or comes home.” I fixed my gaze on Athena, not letting up. “I trust you. Call me if she makes contact.”
With watery eyes, she forced a sad smile.
“I won’t forget this. You can count on me.”
I nodded and glanced over my shoulder to my partner, Lucinda Crowley.
“Give me the keys. I’m driving.”
The sense of darkness that had invaded my nightmare had manifested itself in different ways throughout the case. That confused me, especially whenever I thought of Selina Madero. After I’d spent time at the massive altar Allison Barstow had created—and seen the girl’s proclivity for black magick—I knew where the ominous evil had come from. How a young girl could manifest such malice had astounded me.
But something different had grappled with my heart when I thought of Selina—a pervasive sadness hit me hard and that feeling had mounted. I hoped I’d be wrong.
> ***
Care House Teen Shelter
8:30 pm
Ryker Townsend
I screeched the SUV to a stop near the entrance to the Care House Teen Shelter and hit the ground with Crowley beside me. Arturo Guzman, head of the shelter, came through the front door and crossed his arms—making a barricade of muscle and skin art.
“You’re not coming in unless you have a warrant.” He glared. “I warned you.”
A few of his kids emerged from the shadows to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder.
“I need to find Selina Madero. I have reason to believe she’s here.”
“I haven’t seen her. That should be good enough for you.”
“Sorry. I can’t take your word for it,” I said. “She packed clothes and took her purse last night. She could’ve used the key you gave her for the shelter. She could be on the premises without you knowing it. Her mother is worried sick.”
For the first time, Guzman looked unsure. He uncrossed his arms and waved off his kids.
“What’s changed?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you here? You said she left home last night. Something must’ve happened.”
This time it was my turn to balk. I could’ve blown smoke up his skirt about being unable to talk about an ongoing investigation, but in that moment, my instinct told me something else.
“Another kid was murdered last night. I don’t know if she had anything to do with it, but whatever spooked her, I have a feeling we both want to know.” I didn’t wait for him to process what I’d said. “I believe Selina thinks of your shelter as a sanctuary. If she’s hiding here, where would she be?”
Arturo Guzman flexed his jaw and stared at me. Every second that went by twisted in my gut. I didn’t like it.
“Come on, Arturo. Work with me. For Selina.”
After the man finally nodded, he yanked open the front door, and didn’t wait for us.
“If we find her, I swear I didn’t know,” he said.
Crowley had to run to keep up, but despite Guzman’s urgency, the clock in my head only ticked louder and I felt the start of a horrific headache.
***
Madero Home
8:45 pm
Athena wanted to make a call to Grey Holden, her lover. She knew he’d be worried after the cryptic messages she’d left on his voice mail today, but she didn’t want to be distracted. She’d made hot tea for her sister, but she barely touched it. Elisa wouldn’t stay still.
It pained Athena to see Elisa sick with worry. She watched her sister pull back the drapes and stare out the window until she became restless again.
“There’s something you’re not telling me about Selina. What is it?”
Elisa barely glanced at her, but didn’t stop pacing and rubbing her arms.
“I’m your sister. We’re family.”
“I know, but—” Elisa clutched at her stomach until Athena thought she’d be sick. “You don’t understand. If I say the words, it’ll make it real.”
“What do you mean? Make what real?”
With eyes brimming in tears, Elisa looked at Athena. She opened her mouth as if she would tell her the truth, but her face contorted in shock.
“Oh my, God. No, no. no.” Elisa raced for her bedroom and rummaged through a closet. Shoes and clothing were tossed out onto the floor. She grabbed something heavy, clutched it to her chest, and placed it on the mattress.
The second Athena saw what her sister had put on the bed, she knew why Elisa had looked worried and paralyzed with fear—a small gun safe.
“When did you get a gun?” Athena asked. “I didn’t know you had one.”
“A friend gave it to me. I kept it only for protection. It’s just Selina and me here, but I made sure she knew how to use it.”
When Elisa opened the compartment and saw the weapon was missing, new tears came.
“It’s a .22 caliber revolver, isn’t it?” Athena asked.
From the size of the compartment that held the gun—and the box of ammunition in the safe—she knew the answer without her sister’s help.
Elisa nodded with a hand covering her mouth, unable to hold back her worst fear.
“Selina must’ve taken it.” Elisa collapsed onto the bed, inconsolable. Athena put her arm around her.
“But when?” Elisa sobbed. “I saw the gun last night.”
Athena kissed her sister on the cheek and pulled away from her.
“I have to make a call. It’ll only be a second.”
Athena had to call Ryker and let him know. She couldn’t imagine her sweet niece using the gun on anyone, much less the FBI. Her worst fear would be Selina using the gun on herself. With trembling fingers, she called Ryker.
She had no choice.
***
Care House Teen Shelter
8:50 pm
Ryker Townsend
My phone went off as I picked up the pace down a hallway, following Arturo Guzman. When I looked at the caller name, I had to take it.
“What’s up?”
“Selina has a .22 revolver with her. It’s missing from Elisa’s gun safe.” Athena hesitated. “Please don’t let her hurt herself, or anyone else.”
“Not on my watch. I’ll call you when we find her,” I said.
“Was that Athena?” Crowley asked.
“Yeah. She said her sister owns a .22 revolver. Selina has it.”
Arturo rounded a corner and shoved through a door into a large room full of tables and equipment—the taxidermy workroom. Shelves of supplies and stainless sinks were along one wall. On another were the mounted displays of the finished products. I slowed down, staring up at the animal heads and hides hanging on the walls.
“What’s that smell?” I called out to Guzman.
“Someone is tanning a hide. The stink won’t last long.”
Toluene. Hutch had said the flammable liquid tested positive for the presence of Toluene at the fire pit where Allison Barstow died. The vaporous liquid could’ve been the catalyst to start the fire that engulfed the Barstow girl.
Selina had access to it.
Guzman weaved through the tables, headed toward the back of the room and a small office, and I followed close behind him.
“I hear something,” Guzman yelled and heaved aside a table like a football lineman shoving through a defense on a blitz.
I heard a low groan and saw movement on the floor. It was Selina.
“Oh my, God. Sweet Jesus. Selina, honey, what’s wrong?” Arturo Guzman yelled when he spotted her on the floor—convulsing.
“She’s having a seizure,” I said.
Guzman raced to Selina across the room and collapsed to his knees beside her. When he reached for her with his beefy hands, he couldn’t touch the girl.
Lying on her back, she frothed at the mouth, drooling. Her body jerked and her arms and legs flailed. She clenched her teeth with deliberation, as if she was chewing, and her breathing sounded erratic.
“Call 9-1-1,” I said to Crowley.
“Help me roll her to her side, Arturo,” I said. “Keep her from hitting anything solid.”
I reached for Selina to move her. Too much saliva or vomit could go down her windpipe and cut off her air.
“Should I stick my finger into her mouth so she doesn’t swallow her tongue?” he asked.
“Good thought, but no, not if you’ve grown fond of your finger. We need to keep her breathing until EMTs get here.” I looked behind him. “Clear those tables and move stuff away from her. She could hurt herself.”
Guzman shoved tables aside and gave Selina room. Her skin glistened with sweat and her clothes were soaked. When I pulled open one of her eyelids and saw her pupil was dilated, a newfound sense of urgency hit me. Time dragged on and I felt more helpless by the second until I heard a welcomed noise.
In the distance, I heard a siren outside. The wailing grew louder.
“Come on, Selina. Stay with us.”
<
br /> Within minutes I heard Lucinda’s voice coming from down the hall. She had the paramedics with her. I backed off Selina when the emergency crew took control. I had no idea if the seizure was only temporary or an indication of something she’d ingested. The EMTs asked me questions I couldn’t answer. While they worked to stabilize her for transport, Crowley called Elisa and pummeled her with rapid-fire questions.
“What hospital will you take her?” After the EMTs gave me the name of the medical facility, I gave it to Crowley and said, “Have Athena and her mother meet us at the ER.”
While the paramedics loaded an unconscious Selina onto a gurney, I looked for the belongings I knew she must have stashed in the room. I had to find the gun to secure it.
It was evidence.
***
“Come on. We have to go,” Athena grabbed her vehicle keys. “Do you know where the hospital is?”
Elisa nodded, but she couldn’t look her sister in the eye. She looked ready to collapse.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have something I need to tell you…about Selina.”
Athena’s stomach clenched. Elisa wouldn’t have hesitated seeing her precious daughter unless what she had to say was very important. She grabbed Elisa and pulled her close, whispering in her ear.
“I love you, Elisa.” She cradled her crying sister in her arms. “Talk to me, mi hermana. Please, tell me what’s going on.”
Whatever secret her sister had held back, Athena would find out. She had only one thing to do before the truth became a new reality. She had to hold her sister and show her how much she loved her.
Chapter 10
Valley Regional Medical Center
Brownsville, Texas
9:30 pm
Ryker Townsend
I’d grown desperate and of questionable sanity. I dropped more coins in the coffee vending machine down the hall from the ER waiting room, despite being convinced I’d ruined my taste buds for any derivative of a true coffee bean. Whatever dribbled and spattered into my paper cup, it tasted more like lukewarm swamp water, but I needed the caffeine.
