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by Unknown

“What were your issues? Why did you go see them?”

  “Different issues for different times.” Avery shrugged. “Depression. Alcohol abuse. Once, I wanted to get my daughter back and I wasn’t sure how, so I just went to talk and figure it out. You name it and I’ve probably needed the help.”

  Sloane picked up a pad and pencil to take notes.

  “Why are you here now?” she asked.

  “I was told I had to come.”

  Sloane laughed and covered her mouth.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I know we’ve only just met, but I find it hard to believe someone can make you do anything you didn’t want to do. Let me rephrase that. Why did you choose to enter my office just now?”

  “Captain said I’m either off my current case or I come here. And I don’t want to be off my case. If you’ve been reading the papers lately, you know why.”

  “You’re very dedicated, aren’t you?”

  “I think so.”

  “That’s an admirable quality. Dedication usually means you’re loyal, courageous, and persistent. However, like all things, it can be good and bad. You said before that sometimes you get so involved in a case that you lose perspective. Have you noticed any other ways that being too dedicated has hurt you, instead of helped you?”

  Jack’s words rang out in her mind: You’re still married to your work, just like you always were. And Avery recalled the collapse of her family, during a time in her life when she thought everything had been going her way.

  “I’ve always been so dedicated to my job that everything else seemed to fall away: relationships, family, friends.”

  “Would you like those things in your life?” Sloane asked.

  Avery faced her.

  “Yeah,” she honestly replied. “I would.”

  “Is there room in your life for those things?”

  That question was harder for her to answer. On the face of it, there was lots of room: a spacious apartment to meet with family and friends, time when she had off work. But in her mind, she was a closed shell, a constantly churning machine trying to find answers and solve riddles, and in that machine, there was no room for anyone.

  “You look upset,” Sloane said. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  Suddenly, Avery understood.

  Work is your life. Everyone knows it but you.

  The jarring realization suffocated Avery. She felt stifled by everything: the office, her own clothing and life. She stood up to leave.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to go.”

  “What’s wrong?” Sloane pushed. “Something happened just now. This is important, Avery. What did I say? What garnered this reaction? Please. Stay with this.”

  “I get it now,” Avery said. “I’m the problem. I’ve always been the problem.”

  “You are not the—”

  She walked out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Avery had abandoned drunken bouts in the morning long ago, but after her session with Sloane, work seemed like the last place she should be. She felt fractured, broken up, and she hated what she saw.

  There was always a bar, someplace, where she could get a drink, and Avery found one, a complete dive that had been open all night.

  Sunlight was left behind as she walked into a dark room that stank of stale liquor. Two men were arguing in the back. The bartender was trying to solve it.

  “Too early for this shit!” he yelled. “Take it home.”

  “I need a drink,” Avery called.

  “Sorry, but we’re closed.”

  Avery flashed her badge.

  “You just opened.”

  “And we just opened,” the bartender echoed. “What’ll it be?”

  “Whiskey, straight up. Anything,” she said.

  “Coming right up.”

  Avery sat down and mulled over what had happened in Sloane’s office. The tears had been about to come. If she’d stayed there any longer she would have broken down. Why? she wondered. She heard her father’s shotgun, and kids shouting and pummeling her with fists.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  You can cry in front of a psycho killer but you can’t cry in front of a kind, gentle shrink. You really are fucked up.

  The drink came and she downed it.

  “Another,” she said.

  No room for anyone, she thought. You’re built this way. You learned this, early on. The only way to survive is to fight, and when you’re in a fight, you can’t really stop to smell the roses. You’re not always fighting, she tried to tell herself. You’re grown up now. You’re not that young girl anymore. The problem is: you’re using the same coping mechanisms. Avery laughed. A former therapist had told her that once.

  She opened the killer’s letter.

  So you know me? she thought. Well, bring it on. I don’t know if you heard, but catching killers is all I do, all the time.

  What do we know? she asked. Victim number one is a Gemini and she was killed like that sign. What about victim number two? Arg, she mentally cried. Why doesn’t that add up?

  “Where’s my other drink?” she shouted.

  “Coming right up, miss!”

  On her phone, Avery typed in Aquarius and looked in the images section. She scrolled through. Everyone had jugs of water or were splashed in water. Catherine Williams was a Virgo. Virgo. She had no flowers in her hair.

  Avery ran the same search for Virgo. The same images came up with women and flowers, but there were a lot of others. Many of the women held balancing scales. She continued to scroll down on her phone. Suddenly, wheat was everywhere: women holding wheat; women standing on wheat and holding scales, women surrounded by wheat.

  It was right in front of me, she realized. I just didn’t search long enough. Williams was a Virgo. Wheat. That’s what she was holding in her hand.

  What are you trying to tell us? she wondered. You killed a Gemini? You killed a Virgo? What do they have in common?

  She typed the question into her phone. All she received were answers about how the two signs could make a compatible relationship.

  You went to Boston University. You either worked at Venemeer’s bookstore or the occult bookstore. Thompson is compiling a list of people at Boston University that attended Williams’ class and both shops.

  What else? What else?

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Avery had never been to an astrologer, but she guessed one of her friends had.

  She made a quick call to forensics specialist Randy Johnson.

  “Hey,” Randy answered. “What’s up?”

  “It was the wheat,” Avery said.

  “Not really clear on what you mean,” Randy replied.

  “The victim in the water was an astronomy professor, and she was made to hold wheat. That’s what fell out of her hand. The killer is motivated by astrology. First victim was made to look like the sign of Gemini, second victim was Virgo.”

  “Whoa,” Randy said.

  “I need some advice. Have you ever been to an astrologer?”

  “Of course!” Randy howled. “And a few psychics and mediums, too. Those people are real. I don’t care what everyone else says.”

  “Any astrologers you trust? I need an expert to help me understand what I’m seeing.”

  “You must see Davi,” Randy said.

  “Davi?”

  “I don’t know the rest of his name. He just goes by Davi. Fantastic. Knows everything. Tell him I referred you. You can get a discount!”

  “I’m not going for myself.”

  “You should. I heard about Ramirez. Ouch.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “That’s not what I heard.”

  “Just give me the number and address.”

  *

  Davi never picked up the phone, so Avery drove to his location. The Boylston Street apartment was in a large building that could have been an office or residence. She parked and tried his number again. The voice on the answering machine harked to a
big, strong, and bright strong personality.

  Avery left a message.

  “This is Detective Black of the A1 Homicide Division. I need to speak with you about a case. Please call me back at this number.”

  A sleek doorman guarded the building entrance.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  Avery flashed her badge.

  “Detective Black,” she said. “Homicide Division. Is there a Davi here?”

  The man instantly brightened at Davi’s name.

  “Yeah, I think he’s in,” he said. “He wouldn’t want to be disturbed right now. A little early for him. He usually doesn’t wake up until about noon.”

  “Get him up,” she said. “This is important.”

  With raised brows, the doorman lifted his phone and made the call.

  “He’s not answering.”

  “I’ll go up myself. What’s his apartment number?”

  “Ma’am, you can’t—”

  “Detective,” she said. “Detective Avery Black. Homicide Division. I’m on a homicide case. Two women have already been murdered. I need his help. Are you really going to stand in the way of an ongoing investigation?”

  “Hold on one second,” he said. “Jimmy,” he called to a porter. “Can you take her up to Six B? Davi’s place? Knock on the door. If he doesn’t answer bring her back down, OK? And if he does answer, give him my apologies. I don’t want any bad karma.”

  Jimmy was a slight Columbian man in a gray service suit. He put down his broom and headed to the elevator without a glance at Avery.

  They headed up together.

  At 6B, Jimmy knocked and listened. He knocked again and shrugged.

  “He not there,” he said.

  “He’s there. Open up!” Avery shouted. “It’s the police.”

  A faint voice came from inside.

  “Hold on, hold on. What is all this racket?”

  The door opened.

  A robust man that Avery guessed might have been Saudi Arabian appeared in the threshold. He was dressed in a white gown. A sleeping mask was pushed up over his short black hair. He had chubby cheeks, small, expressive eyes, and a goatee, and whenever he spoke, a whirlwind of hand gestures accompanied his effeminate tone.

  “Jimmy, what the hell is going on?” he demanded. “I was in dreamland just now. Who’s on duty? Was that Tommy? He knows that dreamland is my special place. How am I supposed to have back-to-back appointments when I can’t even keep my eyes open?”

  “Mr. Tommy apologize,” Jimmy said with a slight bow and walked away.

  “Who are you?” Davi pointed.

  Avery opened her badge.

  “Avery Black. Homicide detective. We need to talk.”

  “Oh no,” he said and snapped his fingers above his head. “Not with that energy. Settle down, girl. You can’t come into my apartment until you suck back the crazy and bring out the inner gentle that I know is hidden in that mess somewhere.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Avery groaned.

  “You’ll make time,” he assured her. “Do you have a warrant? Are you arresting me for something? Oh, no. I didn’t think so. Do it with me,” he demanded. “Close your eyes. Take in a deep breath. Your eyes aren’t closed. Should I close my door and go back to sleep? Because that’s where I am right now.”

  Avery closed her eyes.

  “Deep breath,” he said.

  She took a deep breath.

  “That’s right. Now breathe out slowly and allow all that crazy to go with it. Whew, honey, your breath stinks! Who drinks this early in the morning? We’ve got to get you a breath mint. No, no. Don’t break the routine. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just breathe that way. That’s it. Nice and easy. See there. How does that make you feel?”

  The breathing helped. Avery lost some of her anxiety and edge, and by the time she was through, she had to admit she felt better.

  “Good,” she said.

  “Excellent.” He nodded. “Now what do you want?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” He waved. “Follow me. Who do I get to blame for having a crazy-energy-cop show up unannounced and disturb my beauty sleep?”

  “Randy Johnson,” she said.

  “Randy? I should have known. She has a Saturn-Neptune aspect in her third house this month. Like oil and water. Lots of problems with communication. This,” he said and indicated Avery, “would be a problem.”

  Davi’s apartment, which Avery guessed also served as his office, was a small one-bedroom that was immaculately clean. Only two small bookshelves lined the walls. A dining room table by the window seemed to serve as an office; there was a computer along with numerous books on top of it, and one of the bookshelves was right beside it.

  “Step into my office,” he said and sat down at the table. “What can I do for you?”

  “Can’t you tell me?”

  “I’m not a psychic, honey. I’m an astrologer. I don’t read minds. I read the pattern of the celestial bodies. Yes, I do get impressions sometimes, but I try to hold off on judgments until I see your chart. You’re a Taurus, right?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Stubborn and self-indulgent. Sit down.”

  “I need some help with a case I’m working on,” she said.

  “Astrology killer?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Been reading about it in the papers,” he casually replied with a limp wrist. “What do you know about astrology?”

  “Not much.”

  “Well, here’s a quickie lesson: when you’re born, at a specific time and a specific place, the planets in the solar system are in a certain location, and that location forms your birth chart. Looks like a wheel with twelve slots. It shows you where all your planets were at the time, and what that means for you. For example, I was born in August. That makes me a Leo. Leo is ruled by the sun. The sun was in my fifth house, and that house has to do with creativity, so I’m very creative.”

  Avery looked lost.

  “Let’s just say,” he went on, “that you were born in water. Don’t you think you’d be more drawn to water as you get older?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “That makes sense.”

  “Astrology is like that. The planets are in a certain alignment at birth, and over time, similar alignments have shown researchers that similar personality traits can develop.”

  “But there must be millions of people that are Taurus, or Gemini. How do you account for all those differences?”

  “Lots of ways,” he said as he began to type on his computer. “It’s not just your sun sign which makes you a Taurus or Gemini. It’s also the position of the moon when you were born. And what planet was rising over the earth when you were born. Then, once you have all that, it’s the time and place you were born, which can be very specific. All those differences create variety in the birth chart, and variety in individuals.”

  Avery pulled out the killer’s note.

  “Do these degrees have something to do with that?”

  Davi looked it over.

  “He’s given you the three major points in everyone’s birth chart: sun sign, rising sign, and where the moon was positioned, and he’s given you the degrees. That’s a lot of information, but watch what happens when I plug in those variables.”

  He turned his computer so Avery could see.

  A long list appeared on the screen and continued to get longer.

  “Here we have all the times in the last sixty years that the sun was in Sagittarius, the moon was in Scorpio, and the rising sign was a Libra. There’s a lot, right? These numbers here indicate the date, time, and location on the planet. My guess is the killer is giving you a birthday, but you’re the only one that can spot the date that has actual meaning to you. The letter was addressed to you, right? That means you’re the key. Any of these dates look familiar?”

  The list seemed endless.

  “Not really,” she said. “Can I get a printout of that?”
>
  “Sure.”

  “The two victims,” Avery said. “They were positioned to look like signs. The first was a Gemini. The second was a Virgo. Does that mean anything to you?”

  Davi shrugged.

  “Not many similarities there. They’re both very adaptable, ruled by the same planet, Mercury, which is the messenger, both mutable.”

  “Mutable? What’s that?”

  “Mutable, Fixed, and Cardinal,” he said. “You’ve got twelve signs, right? The signs are grouped into fours. First four signs are considered Cardinal signs, which means they bring about change. Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn. Each one of them indicates a change in the seasons. Change means new beginnings, both in the outside world and in your personal life. Then you have your Fixed signs, securely placed, which means they don’t really change a lot. Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, and Aquarius. They’re stable signs, firm, dependable. You’ve already had a big change in your life or in the seasons with the Cardinal signs, right? These next four signs keep everything at status quo for a while. Last but not least, you have your Mutable signs. These indicate big change, adaptability. They break things down. Think the phoenix that rises from the ash. Mutable signs destroy the phoenix while Cardinal signs bring it back. Mutable signs are Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.”

  Gemini and Virgo are both mutable, Avery thought. Sagittarius is mutable. What do they have in common? The letter indicates Sagittarius.

  “I have a book here,” Davi said and handed over a large, oversized paperback. “Maybe it can help. It’s all about astrology, and specifically about astrology this year. There’s a general section and a personal section. So you turn to the page on your personal astrology and it will tell you what you’ll be dealing with this year, both good and bad. Turn to the page on general and it will give a general overview of our planetary astrology during the year.”

  Avery picked up the giant tome.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Davi checked his watch.

  “That book,” he said, “plus the printout, should help you. But if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call. You’ve got to go now because I have an appointment in ten minutes. That will be two hundred dollars.”