LOST SOULS

A DETECTIVE MARCY KENDRICK THRILLER

THEO BAXTER

Published by Inkubator Books

www.inkubatorbooks.com

Copyright © 2024 by Theo Baxter

Theo Baxter has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work.

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-83756-485-9

ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-83756-486-6

ISBN (Hardback): 978-1-83756-487-3

LOST SOULS is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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1

ALL FOR THE GREATER GOOD

DEMON SLAYER

The demon has shown its face again. I saw what it did to Father Jacobs, I knew that it was planning more chaos, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. God had called me to service, and I had to do what He was telling me to do.

My former mentor James had become possessed by a demon who destroyed him and used his body, his mind, to attack Father Jacobs. I watched it happen, but no one else noticed it. No one else saw James morph into a demonic being with an elongated grotesque face, sharp pointy ears, green rubbery skin like a melted mask, and teeth that were sharp and pointed. Its hands were deformed and claw-shaped. It was very disturbing, and when I called it out, it mocked me. Taunted me, telling me that there was nothing I could do about it taking James’ body, trapping his soul.

It was wrong.

While Father Jacobs recovered in the hospital, I studied numerous books on how to slay this demon. There wasn’t a lot that I could find online that wasn’t fiction, so I’d visited a special bookstore. They’d had numerous books on these creatures and creatures like them that explained how to send them back to Hell. That was what I’d do. I hated the fact that the vessel this demon had chosen was a Godly man. How James had allowed the demon in I didn’t know, but I would save him and free his soul. God had called me to do this.

It had taken me some time to prepare what I needed to drive the demon out. I’d said many prayers about it, and God had told me exactly what I had to do. I’d taken the keys for the church from the office and made copies. It hadn’t been hard, and I was doing God’s work, so it wasn’t wrong. Once everyone was gone for the day, I’d returned and headed for the baptismal chamber. I wasn’t sure how much holy water I’d need, but I wanted to be prepared for whatever this demon had planned, so I drained the entire pool into several empty gallon jugs I’d brought with me. It was part of my job to clean the pool anyway, so nobody would be the wiser that I didn’t dispose of the water as normal.

I’d also borrowed some of the baptismal oils just in case I needed them. It was one of the things the books talked about. I’d need to use them to keep the demon from returning.

With that done, I’d stuck them all in my work van and driven home. My sister was working a late shift at the hospital, so she didn’t ask questions about what I was doing, thankfully. She wouldn’t understand what God had called me to do.

Father Jacobs would be coming home in a few weeks, and I needed to make sure the demon was gone before then. I needed one more thing, and it would be a little harder to come by. I had to find a rowan tree. Luckily, there was a neighborhood not too far away that I could visit where I was sure I’d be able to acquire a couple of branches to make what I needed.

That was where I was headed now. It was late, nearly one in the morning, but that didn’t matter. I’d found the property earlier in the day, so I knew where I was going. I parked along the curb, and with my small hand axe, I headed to the large tree with the clusters of orangish-red berries and white flowers.

Looking around to be sure I wouldn’t be spotted, I began to remove a couple of thicker branches that I could cut into the stakes I’d need. Once I had four decent-sized branches, I dragged them to my van and shoved them in the back. I set the saw back there with them and closed the door, then jumped back in the van and drove to the church office.

I spent the night paring down the branches, soaking them in the holy water and anointing each of them with the baptismal oil. I wanted to be sure they were well blessed. I didn’t know how many I would need, but I wanted to be prepared for anything. It would only be a few hours before the demon who had taken over James would show up. For some reason it was sticking to James’ work schedule. I didn’t know how it was able to be on consecrated ground, but the demon managed it. That still didn’t deter me from what I was being called to do.

I was parked in the parking lot closest to the archdiocese offices where James worked. I wanted a good view so I could keep vigil over everyone there to be sure the demon didn’t strike against anyone else or try to possess anyone else either. As I sat behind the steering wheel, I picked up the book I’d chosen to follow to stop the demon. It was simply called Send the Demon Back to Hell, and I wanted to be sure I followed the steps properly, so I read over their tutelage while I waited.

I hadn’t moved in hours. The demon didn’t bother to disguise itself from me, but others didn’t see the grotesque figure I did. They all called it James or Mr. Hillier and spoke as though it were still the man we all knew as James, but I knew different. That creature was no longer James. It was a cheap imitation. Made unclean by the demon inhabiting his body. I was putting an end to that tonight.

It was getting close to the time I knew the demon would be leaving, so I set my plan in motion. I moved my van next to James’ car, which the demon was using. I reparked and got out, moving behind my van in the twilight hours of the mid-October sky as I pulled on a pair of gloves. I couldn’t touch the demon with bare skin; it might attempt to jump into me if my skin came into contact with it. Not that it would be able to do that, I was chosen by God, and my body was a temple to Him. Still, if the demon got free of James’ body, it would take James’ soul with it, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to save his soul.

Several employees left the building, walking into the parking lot, getting into their cars, and leaving. Soon the only cars in this lot were my work van and James’ car.

A few minutes later, I noticed the demon coming out through the office door with Jennifer, another office assistant. She was pretty, her blonde hair pulled up in a bun, but her sweet smile was wasted upon the demon. “See you, James,” she said to the demon as she started on the path that led around the building to the far parking lot.

I listened intently as the demon spoke in James’ voice while it locked up the office. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jennifer. Have a pleasant night,” it called.

It was exactly what James would normally say, but demons were tricky beings. I knew.

Squatting down, I moved from behind my van to the back of James’ car. I watched from my crouched position as the demon with the melted face and elongated ears unlocked James’ car door and opened it.

That was when I struck. I quickly moved from the back of the car toward the demon and whacked it over the head with a large piece of one of the rowan tree branches I had left over. The demon dropped to the ground, knocked out, I was sure, from the holy oil I’d rubbed on the branch. Demons couldn’t be touched by anything that was blessed or holy. So this merely proved me correct.

I bound its arms and legs, then dragged it over to my van and pushed it into the back. God was surely guiding me and protecting me because this had been so easy. I would slay this demon just as soon as I got it to confess why it was here. Why it had attacked Father Jacobs.

I returned to James’ car, which the demon had been trying to get into, and closed the door, pocketing the keys. I’d probably have to move it so no one would question where James was. Sadly, he was gone, had been gone for weeks now, taken over by a demonic being. I’d free his soul. He’d rest in heaven soon.

I headed for the local landfill. Very few people visited it at night since it was hard to see what you were looking for, but that was perfect for me. I needed someplace where I could take care of this demon without being disturbed.

Reaching the landfill, I opened the back of the van, hooked another thicker rope through the bindings I’d wrapped around the demon, and dragged it from the van.

It screamed at me, pleading with me to stop. I knew it just wanted to get loose and attack me, so I blocked it out. With the thick rope over my shoulder, I dragged the demon deeper into the landfill. I made out a mound of metal and figured there’d be some iron in there; it would help weaken this demon if what I’d read in that book was true. I set the demon on a pile of scrap and pulled out the rowan stake from where I’d shoved it through my belt loop. I’d already taken pains to bless it with the baptismal oils.

“Wh-what are you doing? Why are we here?” the demon cried, looking around. Its eyes were sliding down its face, merging with its dry, brittle lips, which were thin and peeling.

It was disgusting to view, but God had my back. I’d be alright because God was protecting me; this demon wouldn’t be able to possess me. “Confess, demon. You tried to kill Father Jacobs. Speak!”

“No! You’re crazy! I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” the demon spit out. “Let me go right now!”

“In God’s name, I command you!” I said, hoping to force it to do what I asked as I pointed the rowan stake at its chest.

“You need help. I’m not a demon! I promise you! God, please help me!”

“Blasphemy!” I shouted and drove the stake into the demon’s chest without getting the confession I was after. I couldn’t believe it had the audacity to call on God to help it. How dare it attempt to sway God in its favor. I was doing God’s work. I was His blessed warrior. Chosen to free James from this demon’s possession.

The demon sputtered and coughed, and a moment later, I saw the demon leave James’ body. The face returned to normal, and James’ body looked at peace, I thought as tears flowed down my cheeks. James, my mentor, my friend, was free now.

“Praise be to God. You are free now, James, go with God, and watch over us from heaven. I wish I could have saved you sooner, but you’re saved now. Be with Jesus and our Father God.”

I reached out and closed his eyes, then set about unbinding his arms and legs. I laid his body on the metal and folded his hands on his chest. I wished I could take him back to the church and bury him in consecrated ground, but since his body had been defiled by that demon, it wouldn’t be possible. Instead, I moved more of the scraps over his body. Covering him up as I said a blessing over him. Praying that his spirit, his soul, found peace in heaven now that he was freed from the demon.

“Thank You, Lord, for choosing me to do Your bidding. To slay this demon and free my friend. Please help his soul find peace.”

I stood there for a few more minutes praying before I headed back to the church office to move James’ car. I sincerely hoped that I wouldn’t be called upon again, but should God wish it, I’d be ready.

I would keep the world safe from these demonic beings. I was the only one who could.

2

RELAXED, REFRESHED, AND READY TO RETURN

MARCY

Sunday

Frank pulled his truck into my driveway and parked. “Why don’t you head in, maybe order us a pizza, and I’ll get the bags?”

I pushed open the passenger door and said, “Sounds good,” before jumping down and going to the front door to unlock it.

I set my purse on the table by the door along with my keys, then pulled my phone from my pocket and called Prince Street Pizza to order the Oaky Smokey pizza as well as a meat lovers.

Frank came in and set out the bags in the bedroom. When he returned to the living room, I said, “They’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He reached for my hand, and we sank down on the sofa together. “Happy to be back?” he asked.

I was so happy. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed the hell out of our Alaskan cruise, but two weeks away had been a bit too long for me. “I’ll be glad to sleep in my own bed and get back to work tomorrow, yeah.” I smiled and snuggled into his side. “What about you? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve still got time off coming to me, so I think I’m going to take it.”

I gave him a curious look. “You’re really not anxious to get back to it?”

He shrugged. “No. Not really. I just don’t know what else I’d do if I didn’t do this.”

Frowning, I looked up at him. What he was saying didn’t really make any sense to me. I loved my job; I loved going after the bad guys and solving the crimes. It was like the job was a part of me, a part of who I was. Not my whole identity, but a good portion of it. I’d thought Frank was the same, but maybe that wasn’t true anymore. The idea that he might quit bugged me, but I didn’t voice that. He hadn’t said that was what he was going to do, but I wondered.

“Let’s not worry about what I’m doing for now, okay? We’ve got tonight to relax before you get back to the grind, so let’s enjoy it.”

I nodded, but I still felt a bit uneasy over it.

I slept well and woke up early to get ready for work. I was chomping at the bit to get going, even though my partner, Angel, wouldn’t be there. He and his girlfriend, Callie, had left Friday evening for Mexico, and he wouldn’t be back until Saturday. Callie didn’t have as much saved-up vacation time as Angel and I’d had, so they’d only taken a week. I wondered how his trip was going, even though he’d only been there two days now.

I shot off a quick text to him, asking how his family was and if Callie was fitting in. He didn’t text me back right away, which wasn’t surprising since it was only a little after five a.m. He was on vacation and probably still asleep. He’d get to it when he was awake.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I noticed Frank stirring in the bed.

He rolled over and blinked at me. “Why are you up so early?” he mumbled. “Did you get a call?”

“No, just anxious to get a jump on the day. You know?” I smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

He hesitated for a minute, like he wanted to argue but then decided not to. His lips pursed as he looked at me. He ran a hand over his face, then scruffed through his hair. “Give me a minute, and I’ll get up and fix coffee.”

“Frank, no. I can get my own coffee. I didn’t mean to wake you; just relax and go back to sleep.”

He sat up, setting his bare feet on the floor. “I’m up now.”

He sounded grumpy, and it made me sigh. “Okay. If you’re sure,” I murmured, feeling like I was pissing him off.

He pulled his boxers on and padded into the kitchen. I heard the cabinet slam shut, and I jumped. Now I knew he was pissed, and I didn’t know if it was just the fact that I was ready to go to work, or the fact that I was actually going in to do the job that he didn’t seem to want to do anymore. Or maybe it was something more than that. Prior to going on vacation, we’d done quite a bit of arguing about my job. I’d thought we’d moved past it, but now I wasn’t so sure.

I decided the best thing to do was to ignore his current mood and finish my morning routine. I checked my service weapon, which I hadn’t carried in two weeks. It felt good in my hand, like I’d been missing a piece of myself, and now it was back. I slid it into my holster and then put on my black tennis shoes. I was wearing a pair of black slacks and a red blouse with my black blazer, as well. I normally wore tennis shoes because I had to chase down suspects sometimes, and I couldn’t do that in three-inch heels, no matter what those female cops on TV managed to do. That wasn’t real life.

Squaring my shoulders, I ran my hands over my hair, smoothing it before walking confidently out of my bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Frank was at the stove, frying up some bacon and scrambling eggs. “Smells good,” I said, entering the room.

“Coffee’s ready,” he said over his shoulder.

I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. I couldn’t reach his face; he was too tall. “Thank you.” I let go and moved to the coffee pot. “Want me to pour you a mug?”

“Sure,” he replied. “I think I’m going to head home after a shower.”

I paused mid-step and looked over at him. “Why?”

“Gonna go see my folks, check in at the precinct, maybe visit the beach.”

I slowly nodded as I sat down at the table. “Okay. Are you coming back tonight?”

“Probably.”

His voice was tight, and I was worried about what he wasn’t saying, but I didn’t want to argue with him, not before work, hell, not at any time, if I was being truthful. I knew that, with what had happened with his brother, then his mom, and getting shot, he was still dealing with some shit, but I’d hoped he’d worked through it well enough that we were good.

“Well, let me know. If you want, I can come to Santa Monica tonight. I mean, unless I pick up a case that precludes me doing that.” I took a sip of my coffee and closed my eyes in pleasure.

Frank set a plate of food in front of me and one opposite me, then sank down into his chair. “I’ll text you.”

By Wednesday I was so ready for Angel to get back. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do this job without him, I could, but I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, our new lieutenant, Lukas Chenevert, wouldn’t let me do my job on my own. He’d stuck me with whoever was available and made me a third wheel most of the time. I felt as though I was stepping on toes left and right by taking charge in whatever case we were working. Technically, I was the senior officer, so I was just doing my job, but when partners had been together for so long, they tended to have their own way of doing things, and I got in the way of that. It was frustrating for all of us. Granted, Chenevert had only set me with Hummel and Vance once all week, which was a blessing, but having to deal with it made the rest of the week a long and tedious one.

On top of that, Frank and I had felt off since I’d gone back to work. I didn’t know if it was me and the fact that I hadn’t found my groove back at work and was just frustrated about it, or if it was because he still hadn’t made any kind of decision about the job, or if he’d just grown bored with me. I hoped the last wasn’t the case. I loved the man, and I had pictured us being long term for a while now. If it didn’t work, I was going to be heartbroken.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up from my desk to look at it. It was a message from Stephen.

Lunch at Alebrijes?

I smiled. I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to my brother since I’d gotten back, so I immediately replied that I’d meet him there in thirty minutes. Grabbing my purse, I got up and walked down the hall to Lieutenant Chenevert’s office. Sticking my head in, I said, “Sir? I’m heading to lunch.”

“Did y’all finish the report on the Fourth Street bodega shooting?”

“Yeah, and I copied Robinson on the report, like you asked. Should be in your email.”

“Great. Have a good lunch.” He looked overworked and had dark circles under his eyes.

“Sir? Is everything okay?” I asked hesitantly.

His gaze met mine, and he gave me a tight smile. “It’s fine. Just personal stuff, Kendrick.” He winced and then added, “My ex-wife is in town.”

I knew that things hadn’t ended well between them; it was why he’d left San Diego. “Is she causing problems for you?”

“You could say that.” His lips pressed together in a firm line. “You don’t need to hear this. Go on to lunch.”

I stood there for another moment and then nodded. “If you need to vent, sir, I can always listen.”

“Thanks, Kendrick, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Walking out of the precinct, I couldn’t help but make comparisons between Jordan, my ex, and his ex. Jordan had been extremely controlling and made my life hell for a while. He’d stalked me and ended up in a mental facility. He was still there, and after that he’d be sent to county jail for six months because of the vandalism and harassment charges. Once he’d served that, I had a court order in place to keep him away from me. I wondered if that might help Chenevert. He hadn’t asked for my advice, but if he did, I might suggest that.

I drove to Alebrijes and parked next to Stephen’s truck. I knew it was his because he had his company name on the door. Kendrick Technologies. After everything he’d been through, I couldn’t be prouder of him. He was dating a really nice woman, he’d gotten sober, had been going to therapy to deal with the trauma our mother had inflicted on him, and now he’d started his own business doing computer repair and solving IT problems for various businesses.

He also helped out the LAPD when we needed an extra hand. Some of his methods weren’t exactly usable in court, but they did help us find out information we didn’t always have. In fact, he’d been able to discover a website that had helped me and Angel close in on our last serial killer. MacHenry might have gotten there eventually, but Stephen had saved us numerous man-hours by looking for it himself.

I noticed him seated at one of the booths when I walked in, and I sank down across from him. There were chips and cheese sauce already on the table. “Did you order yet?” I asked, picking up my menu.

“I waited for you.” He smiled.

I picked up a chip and dipped it in the sauce as I browsed the menu. When the waitress came over, we both ordered fajitas.

After she left, Stephen asked, “How was Alaska?”

I told him about the trip. “I enjoyed it, but two weeks was really too long for me. Frank, on the other hand…” I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. He’s apathetic. It’s like he doesn’t want to get back to real life.”

“Is he still bugging you about the job?”

“No, but he’s just not back to normal, you know?” I ate another chip. “I guess I thought he’d go on vacation, recharge, and bounce back. It’s what I do, and I guess I assumed he’d be the same.”

“Maybe just give him some more time? This past year has been pretty traumatic for him. I can relate. He’ll figure things out when he’s ready. You just need to be patient with him.”

Thinking about his words, I nodded. “You’re right; it’s just not what I was expecting.” I ate another chip. “How’s Yazmine?” I asked.

We spent the rest of our lunch talking about his girlfriend and his business, which suited me fine. I didn’t want to talk about Frank and whether or not we were going to make it as a couple. As much as I loved him, I had my doubts that we would, and I didn’t want to deal with how shattered I was going to be if and when he decided to end things.

It was only a matter of time, and I didn’t know if I could fix things. Not without compromising who I was, and I wouldn’t do that, not even for him.

3

WHY EVEN BOTHER?

MARCY

Friday

“Stop! Police!” I shouted as I chased a perp between two brick buildings.

“I’ll get the car,” Detective Carter shouted after me.

I couldn’t pay him any mind. I was focused on my breathing as I ran. This week had been a nightmare. I’d been sent out on so many calls, threatened with various weapons, and now I was dodging bullets as the gang member I was chasing attempted to end my life so he could get away. I was afraid the random shots he was firing in my direction would inadvertently hit a civilian and I’d be dealing with even more chaos.

The perp hit the end of the alley and flew out into the street, causing two cars to swerve to miss him. I had my gun out, and I wanted to shoot, but I couldn’t safely do it without the possibility that I might hit an innocent bystander. The young man I was chasing was at least ten years younger than me and in pretty good shape. He was fast, and I was afraid that he was going to somehow slip away before I could catch him.

My radio crackled to life as I watched the perp make it across the street and turn right. “Kendrick, what’s your twenty?”

Pushing the button to reply as I ran, I said, “Right on Kohler Street.” I could hear the siren blaring as Carter turned onto Kohler. He was still several blocks down, but at least he was on his way.

I shot through oncoming traffic, praying I wouldn’t get hit, and it was a close call as several drivers laid on their horns. I didn’t have time to stop and apologize for doing my job. I raced after the perp, watching him looking for an escape route, but the fences around here weren’t climbable, and the ones that might have been had razor wire. LA was starting to look like a war zone in a lot of areas because crime was so rampant.

The perp shot at me again, shattering the window of a parked car next to me, and I swerved closer to the building, away from the flying glass, as I ran.

Suddenly two patrol cars pulled into the intersection of Kohler and Seventh Street, blocking traffic. Carter was coming up Kohler, passing Eighth Street, and now this guy had nowhere to go. I knew the moment he realized he was trapped. He stopped running, planted his feet, and took aim directly at me.

I knew what was about to happen before I heard the shot and dove to the ground. I wasn’t wearing a vest, since I hadn’t anticipated this chase going down when I’d gotten to the scene. There were too many people on the street for me to return fire, so I shouted, “Get down!” hoping they’d all take cover. I didn’t want any more civilians’ deaths on my conscience.

I belly crawled toward the parked cars on the street and slipped between two of them to get a little cover for myself.

The perp fired another shot in my direction, and then I heard a volley of gunfire coming from in front of me as people screamed.

“Get down!” I shouted again, waving my hand at a woman and her child who were coming out of a building across the street. I popped up and started toward them, wanting to get them to cover.

In the chaos the officers shouted, “LAPD!”

Then I heard another volley of shots before an officer yelled, “Perp down!”

“Go back inside!” I shouted at the woman, and pointed for her to take her kid back in the building.

I held up my badge in one hand as I moved across the street to be sure she got back inside, then turned toward the perp. “Block this traffic!” I shouted at some of the patrol officers who had just arrived on the scene, and they quickly jumped into action, using their cars to block the Seventh Street and Kohler intersection.

Two other patrol officers were by the perp on the ground, and one of them kicked the perp’s gun away as he held him at gunpoint. It took me a minute to recognize Lopez and Curtis. I was glad it was them because they were seasoned officers.

“Stay down!” Officer Lopez shouted at the young man on the ground, who was writhing, holding his arm.

“You fucking shot me!” the guy whined.

“Officer Lopez, keep your gun on him,” I said, holstering my gun. “Officer Curtis, read him his rights, and cuff him.”

Carter pulled up to the side of the street a moment later and got out. “You shot him?”

“Not me, Lopez, I’m assuming. I didn’t see it. I was busy trying to miss the perp’s bullets. I didn’t take a shot because there were too many civilians in my line of fire.”

“Yes, ma’am. I thought you were hit the way you went down. I had a clear shot, so I took it,” Lopez said, putting his gun away as Curtis dragged the guy up to his feet.

“He’ll need to go to the hospital to have that wound cleaned; call a bus, Curtis,” I said.

Curtis immediately got on his radio and asked for an ambulance.

“I’m going to sue the fuck out of you pigs!” the perp shouted.

I ignored him as I turned back to Lopez. “I’ll need your weapon. It’s just a formality, but IA will be doing an inquiry. Your camera should clear you though.”

He didn’t seem happy about it, but he took his weapon back out and pulled the magazine from it. “I fired a couple of shots, but only one hit him.”

I held out a plastic evidence bag for him to drop it in. “That will match what I heard after I dove for the ground. Curtis, I’ll need yours too, since you fired your weapon as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ll get them back soon, don’t worry. It was a clean shoot.”

“Ferris,” Carter said, pushing the button on his radio, “final perp’s been caught; you wrapping up the scene there?”

“Just sent the last of them with Kim and Desmond,” Detective Ferris said.

“We’ve got a secondary crime scene over here on the corner of Seventh and Kohler, so ask Stone to send another CSI team to us.”

“You got it,” Ferris’ voice crackled over the radio.

An hour later, back at the station, I couldn’t help but think that maybe Frank had a point. This whole week had been one crazy case after another. It was as though people had lost their damn minds and had ratcheted up their insane behaviors. More domestics, more gang shootings, more stabbings, there had been two assaults with nail guns, one with a hammer, and so many robberies that I had lost count. And the bigger issue was that more than half had been committed by noncitizens who were given court dates and just released back to the streets because the prisons were overcrowded or because activist DAs were putting politics before the law.

I didn’t know what the point was anymore. How could I do my job and keep the public safe if the DA and courts were just going to put them back on the street to keep doing the same shit or worse? It was as though they just kept pushing the line, testing to see exactly how far they could go before they were finally locked up for good.

I sat down and typed up my report on the latest case and then made a hard copy and took it to Chenevert’s office. I didn’t need to do that, he hadn’t asked for a hard copy, but I wanted to check in with him.

“Come in, Kendrick,” he said when I knocked.

“Hey, sir. Here’s the report on that shooting from earlier.” I handed the printed copy to him.

“You could have just emailed it.” He smiled as he took it.

“I know, I just—” I stopped because I wasn’t sure exactly what it was that I wanted.

“Sit down.” He set the report aside and gave me a concerned look. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know if I’m just burnt out or having a bad week, but I’m just wondering what the point is anymore. We go out there, put our lives on the line, nobody’s grateful, they cheer when one of us is hurt, they put up statues of criminals, they revere them, scream at us for doing our job… and then when we do get one of these perps off the street, it doesn’t last because the DA dismisses the charges, or the courts let them off the hook with barely a slap on the wrist. And then they commit a worse crime that we then have to deal with.”

“I know exactly how you’re feeling, and you’re not alone. The entire police department is struggling with the same issues.” He nodded, and I could tell that he’d really thought about this as well. “All I can say is that what we do is a calling, Kendrick. We are the peace brokers, the law keepers. We take an oath to protect and serve our communities. We—ninety-eight percent of us at least—are honorable. Right now we’re paying for that two percent who’ve shown their asses to the world, but that pendulum is going to swing back in our favor, and I think it already is, even if you’re not really seeing it right now.”

It had been a while since it had felt as though people were happy with us. I supposed he was right in a way. After Angel and I caught El Gato, the media had been all about getting every detail about the case, and some of the press had been positive. This past week had just seemed like a backward step. There was just so much happening on the streets. It didn’t seem like we were respected or even wanted out there.

“You know four of those perps we caught this week are already back on the street? Well, until the grocery store shooting this afternoon, where we picked up two of them again. They killed two women who were just shopping for their families. I guess I can’t blame the public for being angry about the suspects killing them. I’m angry too. It doesn’t make sense that these perps aren’t in jail for their previous crimes. They should have been. Those women wouldn’t be dead if the court hadn’t dismissed their cases.”

“I know. And you’re right. The public is going to be angry about that, but we need them to get angry. We need them to work to get these corrupt judges and attorneys out. It’s the only way to get us back to a law-abiding society. Until then we have to keep doing our jobs. We can’t give in. We have to keep standing up. Keep standing in the way between the public and the chaos. We have to keep showing the public we’re there for them.”

I nodded. “It’s exhausting. I know I just had a vacation, but I’m struggling this week.”

“Probably doesn’t help that Frank was shot not that long ago too. That’s gotta be weighing on your mind, and from what I was told, you could have taken a bullet today as well. Next time y’all go out on a call, I want you in a vest. That goes for all y’all.” He circled his finger in the air to incorporate everyone in the department.

“Yes, sir.” I smiled. “And yeah, Frank’s close call is part of it. He’s rethinking the job. I don’t know if he’s going to go back.”

“That would be a shame; he’s a good cop. I’ve not worked with him, but I’ve looked into his record. Thought about trying to bring him over to the LAPD.”

His words startled me. “No. Please—” I paused, trying to temper my words with wisdom. “You’ve been made aware of what I went through with Jordan, right?” With everything, I couldn’t recall what he knew and what he didn’t about me and Jordan.

“Your ex-husband, yes, I’m aware. And don’t think I didn’t consider your feelings in this, Kendrick. I would never have made the offer to him without at least talking to you first. I know from experience the difficulty of working with someone after a break-up. It’s why I’m here and not in San Diego.”

“Right, yes. Frank and I work because he’s not part of LAPD, but he’s still a cop, and he gets the job. He understands what we do. If he were here… neither of us would be good at our jobs.”

“I get it, and I won’t be suggesting that move to anyone. I just wanted to tell you I’d considered it. We’re still looking for transfers from other departments to help fill the vacancies, so if you hear of anyone wanting to make the move to LA, shoot me their name, and I’ll look at them.”

“I will.”

“Why don’t you head on home, Kendrick, get some rest, come in fresh on Monday.”

Sighing, I nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thanks,” I commented as I got up. “Have a good weekend, sir.”

Saturday evening Frank and I had Angel and Callie over for an impromptu dinner. They had gotten back at ten that morning, and I thought a welcome-back dinner might be nice. Frank had bought steaks, and he and Angel were at the grill, seeing to the meat while Callie and I fixed the sides. From what I gathered, their trip hadn’t been all that great, at least not according to Callie.

“So what went wrong?” I asked quietly before the men rejoined us.

“You know I don’t speak Spanish, and his family barely speaks any English. It was just really awkward, you know?” Callie said with a sigh. “I mean, they were nice to my face, but I heard Angel arguing with various family members all week in Spanish, and I’m pretty sure it was about me. He won’t tell me what was being said, but I got the feeling they were disappointed in the fact he’s dating me.”

I reached a hand out and rubbed her arm. “Don’t take it to heart. I don’t think anyone who knows you could be disappointed in you.”

“Thanks, Marcy. I love him, and I hope that I’m wrong, but he’s been on edge for several days now. I was really glad you asked us over tonight because I think he needed the normalcy of this kind of gathering.”

“So do you think it was just the fact you don’t speak Spanish that they objected to?” I asked, pulling the baked potatoes from the oven.

“I think it’s more than that. There was a woman there… I guess she was an old girlfriend. She was very flirty. Angel never said exactly who she was, just told me her name was Juanita and they grew up together.”

I tried to recall if Angel had ever mentioned anyone named Juanita, but I couldn’t recall one. “Look, I’ve known Angel for about seven years now. As far as I’m aware, he’s never had a girlfriend named Juanita. He’s been stateside for at least fifteen years, so if this Juanita lives in Mexico, he’s not dated her since he’s been an adult. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Frank and Angel walked in the back door at that moment, and our conversation was dropped. I gave Callie a sympathetic look, and we started getting the plates put together with the steaks the men had brought in.

“Everything looks great, Marce,” Angel said. “Thanks for having us over.” He slung his arm around Callie’s shoulders and smiled.

“Not gonna lie, I’ve been looking forward to showing you guys the videos we took while we were in Alaska,” I said, keeping my voice light.

“The wildlife there is amazing,” Frank added. “Just wait until you see it. Next time you two will have to come with us. See it in person. It’s incredible.”

Eventually the topic of conversation turned from our vacations to work, and we discussed the craziness that had taken place over the past week and the two weeks Frank and I were away.

“Count your blessings you only had to work with the others for one week. I had to for two. I was never so glad to leave for vacation,” Angel said with a chuckle.

“Well, I’ll be glad to have you back with me on Monday.” I smiled.

“What about you, Frank? When are you heading back?” Angel asked.

“Not sure yet. I’ve still got this week off. I’ll have to make a decision soon, but right now, I just don’t know.”

I reached for his hand and smiled. I wanted to be supportive, and I really did understand why he was hesitating to go back. Things had gotten worse on the job over the past few years, and he’d been shot. It would cause anyone to hesitate to jump back into the fray. The problem was I couldn’t see him being happy doing anything else. And if he wasn’t happy, what would that do to us?

I feared it would just make him more overprotective of me, more controlling or demanding. I couldn’t go through that again. Not even for Frank.

4

CALLED TO SERVE AGAIN

DEMON SLAYER

Ispent the entire morning in prayer at the church. I hadn’t seen another demon since slaying the one that had possessed James. His absence had been noticed, and there was currently a missing person report out for him, but he’d been gone a lot longer than anyone knew. The demon had possessed him for weeks before I’d been called to deal with him. I couldn’t tell anyone though.

I was relaxed and feeling blessed to have been called to join God’s army for that singular event. So I was quite startled to see another demon hanging out in an alleyway between the church and the home I shared with my sister. This one was different. It couldn’t be the same one I’d sent to hell just last week.

I sat in my van, watching the demon with the glowy red-orange eyes and burnt-wood face. It was medium height, shaped like a wiry man with pale skin other than its face, which again looked like wood bark that had been scorched in a fire, and greasy bright yellow hair that hung past its shoulders. I watched the demon take money from some skittish-looking kid and hand him a baggie. The demon was pushing drugs. I needed to deal with it as soon as possible. I couldn’t allow it to continue to destroy people. I had to stop it before it decided to jump into another victim.

“Dear Lord, guide me,” I said, turning the van on again and finishing my drive home. I had to get my supplies. It took me thirty minutes to load up the holy water, bindings, and rowan stakes. I hadn’t planned this out as I had with the first demon. I was just doing what needed to be done at this point. I had to trust that the Lord would point me in the right direction.

It was nearly ten p.m. by the time I pulled up to the other side of the alley and parked. I could see the demon still stood at the opposite entrance to the alley. Looking in the back of the van, I realized I still had the hefty bit of rowan wood I’d used to knock out the first demon. I smiled as I put on my gloves.

“Thank You, Lord.” I picked up the wood, slung some of the blessed rope crossways over my chest, and crept down the alley toward the demon.

I waited for him to finish his transaction. It would be his last one. I wouldn’t allow him to make any more. As soon as the child he was selling to was gone, I’d make my move.

“Twenty bucks, asshole. Not a ten. What did I fucking tell you?” The demon hit the boy in the head.

I nearly jumped then, but I didn’t want to have to explain to the kid he was dealing with a demon. Better to let him finish and clear off unless the demon did him real harm. I’d have to step in if he tried.

“S-sorry.” The boy scratched his head where he’d been hit. “Thought I gave you a twenty. Here.” He offered another bill.

“That’s better. Don’t fuckin’ try to cheat the Gambler, douchebag.” The demon shoved its hand into its pocket and pulled out a clear baggie. “Take it and scram.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Eddie.” The kid grabbed the baggie and ran.

“These’d better fucking be real!” the demon screeched after him as it held the ten-dollar bills up to look at in the streetlight.

That was when I struck. I brought the rowan wood branch down on the back of its head, and it dropped, the ten-dollar bills fluttering to the ground. Whoever found them would have a blessing. I quickly pulled the rope from over my head and started binding the demon’s hands and feet. It was out cold, just like the first demon. I knew it was the blessed wood that had done it. The Lord was so good.

I dragged the demon through the trash-strewn alley to the back of my van. It was dark, and there were very few people on the streets. There was the occasional car that drove by, but nobody stopped or paid attention to me or what I was doing. I shoved the demon in the back of the van, and something told me I needed to put something in the demon’s mouth to keep it quiet. I noticed a work rag up near the passenger seat and grabbed it, then shoved it in the demon’s mouth.

Once I was back in the driver’s seat, I said, “Now what, Lord?”

I started to drive and knew the Lord would provide me a place to do His work. I’d been driving and driving for what seemed like hours when I finally came across the perfect location. It was a group of dilapidated warehouses. They didn’t seem to be occupied. I parked near the entrance to one and got out. Grabbing the crowbar from under my seat, I headed to the gray metal door and began to pry it open.

The door sprang open, and I walked in. I ran my hand along the wall next to the door and found a light switch. Bright fluorescent lights came on, lighting up the building. I quickly turned off all but two of them. I didn’t need to attract attention.

Looking around, I noticed the floor was all cement, and there were barrels all over the place. Most of them were sealed, but there were a few open ones. This would be perfect. I just had to set things up, and I could get started vanquishing this demon. This time I’d also grabbed some chalk, and I began drawing the demon-trap sigils on the floor. I moved one of the wide barrels into position and then set up a bunch of sawhorses with a wide plank, laying it on two of them, and added a second smaller plank, laying it crosswise toward the top.

When I had everything ready, I dragged the demon from the van as I said the Our Father prayer.

The demon struggled in its bindings and made it difficult for me to get it into the building and up onto the planks properly, but God gave me the strength to get it done and keep it from hurting me or getting away. Once I had the demon in place on the planks, with its arms spread wide, I wrapped more of the blessed rope around its center and the plank, as well as its arms, so it wouldn’t be able to roll off. I left the demon there, bound and gagged, as I brought in the rest of the things I’d need.

I’d positioned the demon’s head over the open barrel, and when I returned, I yanked the gag from its mouth. It screamed profanities at me, but I ignored it as I continued to say prayers.

“What is your name, demon?” I demanded. One of the books I’d read said that it was best to get the demon’s name and condemn it to hell with an order never to return. “In Jesus’ name, I demand you tell me your name!”

“What the fuck, man? I’m Eddie, and I’m gonna fucking kill you if you don’t let me out of this!” the demon shouted.

But it was a lie. Its name wasn’t Eddie. That was the name of the vessel it had stolen. Demons were notorious liars. That just made me angry. How dare it try to lie to me.

“Liar!” I screamed at it and poured holy water on the demon’s face, into its open mouth. “No more lies!” I screamed.

The demon gasped and gagged, choking as the holy water burned its face and its insides. I could see the smoke rising from its skin. It was definitely working. The holy water was killing it. I almost pulled back, but the good Lord told me not to let up. If I did, the demon would just lie again, and I might run out of holy water before the task was finished. So I kept pouring from the gallon jug as the demon choked and struggled against the bindings that I’d tied it up in.

Eventually, it stopped moving, stopped making noise. I looked at the face and noticed it was human now. The demon was gone. I’d destroyed it.

“Go to hell,” I murmured, “and stay there.”

I put the cap on the gallon jug. It was empty now, but I didn’t want to leave it behind. I thought about taking the blessed rope, but I’d tied strong knots into the three pieces, and they wouldn’t be usable again after this.

“Better to leave it, keep the demon from coming back and jumping someone else,” I murmured to myself as I left the warehouse, feeling accomplished. As I got in the van, I sent up a quick prayer. “Dear Lord, let that be the last of them.”

5

A WATERBOARDED DRUG DEALER

MARCY

Monday Morning

At four thirty I woke to my phone playing a jazzy version of “When the Saints Go Marching In,” and grabbed it before it woke Frank. “Sir?” I said in just above a whisper as I climbed from my bed.

“Sorry to get you out of bed early, Kendrick, but we’ve got a strange one, and I want you and Reyes on it,” Lieutenant Chenevert said.

“Not a problem, sir, can you text me the details, and I’ll call Angel?”

“Done. Stay safe out there, and don’t forget your vest.”

“Yes, sir.” I hung up and dialed Angel as I began to strip out of my pjs. As soon as I heard Angel answer the call, I said, “We’ve got a case. I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

“’Kay,” he mumbled into the phone. “See you.”

After he hung up, I set my phone down, pulled a light green blouse from the closet and a pair of navy blue pants. Once I had them on, I took the matching blazer from the hanger and laid it on the bed while I added my holster to my attire. I hurried into the bathroom and ran a brush through my hair, washed my face and brushed my teeth. By the time I returned to the bedroom, Frank was stirring. I picked up the blazer and slipped my arms into it, then put my service weapon in the holster.

I leaned down and kissed Frank. “I have to go,” I murmured against his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you,” he breathed, still half asleep.

“I’ll text you later,” I said before slipping into my blue sneakers, grabbing my purse, and rushing out of the house.

I made it to Angel’s in record time and then headed for the crime scene. The area had several warehouses with wide parking areas between them that were mostly empty. None of them were in the best condition; they looked worn and had numerous broken windows. There were several patrol cars close to one of the warehouses, which I assumed was where our crime scene was.

“Check out the door.” Angel nodded at the metal door and frame as we both put on our Kevlar vests. “Looks like it was pried open.”

“We’ll want the CSI team to dust it for prints,” I said, agreeing with his assessment. “Are they here yet?”

Angel looked around in the dim morning light. “I don’t see their cars.”

“Hopefully they’re on their way.” I glanced at Officer Peters, who was looking a bit bleary-eyed as he stood nearby. “Who’s inside?” I asked.

“Mendoza and I arrived first. He’s inside with Allen and Jenkins. They cleared the building, stayed away from the crime scene while I kept an eye on the perimeter. This is the only entrance other than the truck entrance.”

“Good to know. Nobody other than CSI and the coroner comes in,” I said before passing through the door. There was very little light in the place, so I couldn’t really see much.

“Hey, there’s some light switches here,” Angel said, but didn’t flip them on. “Think the perp touched them?” he asked, studying them.

“Probably why the others didn’t turn them on either. We should wait for CSI, get them dusted just in case. I’ll used my phone flashlight.” I pulled it from my purse and switched it on.

“Ma’am? Reyes? It’s over here.” Officer Liz Allen waved to us.

We walked deeper into the large junk-filled room and joined them at what could only be described as a waterboarding scene from some action movie or book. The weird thing was the victim was tied to a couple of planks made to look like a wooden cross, with the top of the cross directly over an open barrel. The victim’s head was damp still, and the fabric of their shirt was discolored where water had gotten on it and dried. I inhaled and noticed a strong scent that I couldn’t recognize.

“What is that?” I questioned, taking another strong breath. “Cologne?”

“I don’t think so, ma’am,” Officer Sarah Jenkins replied. “I think the water that was used was laced with something.”

I took a step backwards. “Poison?”

“I don’t think so,” Angel replied. “I know that scent; it’s familiar, but not deadly. Can’t exactly place it though.”

“Who called it in?” I asked, looking at the three officers.

“Actually, the call that came in wasn’t about the body, it was about the break-in. The security guard who checks the property every morning noticed the door. He didn’t go in, he said, because he didn’t know who or what might be in there, and he’s not paid to deal with that.” Mendoza shrugged.

“What time was that?” I asked.

“Around four a.m. We arrived at four fifteen; Jenkins and Allen showed up about four twenty. That’s when we went in.”

That matched with the call I’d received at four thirty. “And when was the building last checked before this security guard noticed the door?”

“Said the log showed it was checked at nine forty-five last night. This group of warehouses aren’t the only properties they patrol,” Mendoza replied.

“Okay, so the murder happened between nine forty-five p.m. and four a.m.”

“Looks that way.”

A ruckus sounded from the doorway as the CSI team entered with Damien Black, the coroner, right behind them. Lindsey Stone, head of CSI, started commanding the team to do various tasks as she walked toward us.

“Light switches by the door need to be dusted for prints so we can get some light in here,” I called out.

“Right, Brie, Michael, get that first,” she directed over her shoulder, “then get those lights on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hey, Reyes, how was Mexico? Te divertiste?” Lindsey asked.

“Hey, Linds, yeah, we had a great time. Saw the family, you know, and the weather was perfect. Couldn’t have asked for a better trip.” He grinned.

I hadn’t had a chance to ask him any direct questions about the trip after what Callie said, so I wondered if he was trying to put up a front about it or if he really thought the trip was great. Maybe Callie had gotten the wrong impression, and she was worried for nothing.

“Good, good, so what have we got?” Lindsey turned toward the body and stopped short. “Well, damn, what is this? Did we have some sort of terrorist interrogation going on here or what?”

“You tell us; you’re the crime scene tech expert,” I replied. “I thought maybe there was some religious spin to it, seeing as he’s on a makeshift cross.”

“Maybe, hard to say at this point. Placement could have just been convenience,” Lindsey replied.

The lights came on, and Damien moved to the body, going to one of the hands first. “No marks on the palms or wrists, well, other than rope burns. I’d think if it was a reference to Jesus on the cross, they’d have pierced the skin.”

“Good point,” I acknowledged.

“And look at the feet; they’re side by side, still in shoes. If this was actually some sort of religious crucifixion, they’re missing some pretty typical elements.” He circled the body, looking at it from various angles as he spoke. “Plus he’s still dressed, which is unusual.” He began checking the body for wounds, lifting the shirt, checking the arms and legs. “No stab wounds or bullet holes that I can see.” He moved to the head and lifted an eyelid, revealing an extremely bloodshot gray eye. He looked down into the barrel and then at the victim again. “I think he drowned.”

“So I was right the first time; he was waterboarded like a terrorist,” Lindsey said, her hands on her hips. “The CIA didn’t leave us one of these guys to find and drive us crazy, did they?”

“Doubt it,” Angel said.

I tried to hide my snicker. It wasn’t appropriate to laugh at a crime scene. “Can we get an ID on the guy?”

Damien patted down the body and pulled a wallet from the back pocket. He tossed it to Lindsey. “Maybe you’ll get luck—” He stopped and pulled a handful of small clear baggies from the right front pocket. “Looks like meth.”

“So he’s a dealer? Maybe he pissed off whoever he’s selling for?” Angel suggested.

“We should check with Narco. See if they know him.”

“His name’s Edward Gamble.” Lindsey held up a California driver’s license. “Got an address you could check out,” she added.

I wrote it down. “Okay, we’ll leave this in your hands and get busy trying to find his killer.”

“We’ll go through everything here; looks like a bunch of barrels and other junk over that way.” Lindsey pointed. “And we’ll see if we can get any prints anywhere that will help identify who did this.”

Angel and I headed for the car, but I couldn’t help looking back at the body once again. Something about the scene had me thinking we were missing something. I also had a really bad feeling that whoever had done this was going to kill again. It didn’t look random. In fact, it really did look like something out of a horror novel.

“You okay?” Angel asked as we got back in the car.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just… not sure what to think about the scene.”

“It was a pretty strange one. Great welcome back,” Angel said with a chuckle. “Not exactly what I was expecting first thing.”

“I imagine not. Hey, so… how was the trip really?”

“It was good, why?”

Angel was my best friend, and I could tell when he was hiding something. And right now, I knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Besides, I had Callie’s version too. “So your family liked Callie.”

He turned and looked out the window but didn’t say anything.

“Angel? They did like her, didn’t they?”

Sighing, he glanced over at me as I drove. “They didn’t not like her.”

“Okay, that’s a crap answer.”

“Look, they didn’t know what to make of her. She doesn’t speak Spanish, and for some reason Mom and Tia Lucia and my abuela got it into their heads that Callie was wrong for me because of that. They spent the whole week acting as though they couldn’t speak English, when I know they speak it fluently. I don’t know why they were behaving that way.”

“Is that all?” I was hoping he’d say more so I could ask more questions.

He rolled his eyes. “They also had Juanita over and kept trying to push her at me.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned Juanita to me. Who is that?” I wanted to see if he’d tell me what Callie had been told. Not that I thought he’d lie, but he might have tried to leave stuff out.

“She lived next door to us when I was a kid. She’s a couple of years younger and used to tag along after me and Matteo, my cousin. I haven’t seen her in at least fifteen years. She said she moved back to the area last year and has been spending a lot of time with Mom and Tia Lucia.”

That made a lot of sense from what Callie had said. “And let me guess, your mom and aunt think she’d make you a perfect wife?”

“Pretty much. If I’d known what they were going to do, I would never have taken Callie down there to meet everyone. I really thought they’d love her. I don’t know what went wrong.”

“Maybe they’ll come to their senses and realize they can’t choose someone for you.”

“I don’t know. I argued with them half the time as I tried to make Callie feel as welcome as I could. She didn’t really understand what they were saying, so I tried to play it off. I think I was successful.”

I snorted. “You weren’t. She knew.”

Angel stared at me. “She told you?”

Nodding, I replied, “She could tell there was more to Juanita being there, and she knew you were arguing with them and knew it was about her. She might not know Spanish well enough to speak it, but she’s not stupid, and she can read body language and tone, Angel. She probably even recognized several words that were used.”

“Crap. Why didn’t she say anything to me?”

“Because, you dolt, she loves you and loves that you were trying to keep her from being hurt by your family.” I pulled into the precinct parking lot and parked the car.

“Well, shit. Guess I need to make it up to her.”

“Good luck with that.” I grinned. “Come on, let’s go brief Chenevert and the captain, then talk to Narco.”

6

RELIGIOUS CONNECTION

ANGEL

Monday Afternoon

After briefing both Chenevert and Robinson, Marcy and I had gone over to the narcotics division to see what we could find out about Edward Gamble. Turned out he was known on the streets as the Gambler. He was a low-level drug dealer with no affiliation to any of the major drug lords. As far as they were aware, Gamble sold in a specific area of LA and didn’t step on the toes of any major players, so they all pretty much left him to his own devices. The idea that he’d pissed off the wrong people was looking unlikely right now.

He also wasn’t a major enough player to have drawn the attention of the DEA or CIA, so his death probably didn’t have anything to do with terrorist activity either. That left us wondering exactly who could have done this to him. I started looking at the elements again. The cross he’d been tied to was one thing that seemed odd to me.

We’d spent the rest of the morning going through Eddie Gamble’s apartment on Westmoreland Avenue, but didn’t find anything of interest in it. At least nothing that told us whom he had a beef with.

“So where does this leave us?” I asked as we sat parked on the curb outside Cassell’s Hamburgers, eating.

Marcy chewed her burger, looking thoughtful. She took a sip of her soda, then licked her naturally rosy lips. I wondered if I’d taken Marcy down to Mexico to meet my family if that trip would have turned out differently. Of course, she’d already met my mother and Abuela, so I supposed the comparison wasn’t exactly fair. Mom wouldn’t have been able to get away with only speaking Spanish, not that it would matter; Marcy knew Spanish.

“I think we need to see if Lindsey’s got anything for us and then maybe check with Damien.”

Her words pulled me back to the conversation. “Hopefully they’ll be able to give us something to go on.”

We finished eating, and then Marcy drove us back to the precinct. Instead of going to the HSS division, we headed down to the labs.

Lindsey was at the centrifuge when we walked in. She glanced up and smiled. “Hey, you two, I’ve got something for you.”

“We were hoping you’d say that,” Marcy replied.

Lindsey turned and picked up a file folder. “I tested the water several times. It wasn’t just water. It was a mix of olive oil, water, and balsam oil.”

“Balsam?” I questioned. “Isn’t that used in Catholic baptisms? Was he killed with baptismal water?” It dawned on me that was the scent I’d smelled at the scene.

“So I wasn’t crazy; there is a religious aspect to Gamble’s death.” Marcy put her hands on her hips and looked cross.

“Looks that way. And that’s not all. The rope he was tied with, it had traces of the same oils.” Lindsey gave Marcy the folder.

Marcy looked at the file and then back up to Lindsey as she passed the folder to me. “What is this chalk stuff?”

“Still researching. Some of it got smudged because we didn’t see it until a lot of us were on the scene, but we got pictures of everything, and we’re trying to match them.”

I looked at the photos in the file and noticed small white chalk symbols surrounding a star. It almost looked pagan, but that didn’t go with the Catholicism things that I knew of. Did the Catholic church have something similar?

“Are any of them religious? Or Catholic? I mean if this perp is using blessed oils, maybe there’s something about the symbols?” I suggested.

“Good point. I’ll narrow the search.”

“Perfect. Anything else?” Marcy said.

“We traced the meth. It matches a bust Narco did about a year ago on another dealer named Blade Xi, who’s in one of the Chinese gangs. It’s the same formula, so whoever made theirs made Gamble’s batch as well.”

“So Gamble could be connected to that gang?” I was skeptical. Gamble was a white man, and the Chinese gangs were pretty exclusively Asian.

“You’ll have to talk to Narco about that, but I doubt it. More likely whoever cooked for Blade Xi is the same who was cooking for Gamble.”

“I’ll give Narco another call and see what they can tell us about this Blade Xi. Maybe he’s the one who offed Gamble?” I asked.

Lindsey shrugged. “Possible.”

“Thanks, Linds. We’ll see you later,” Marcy offered as she headed for the door.

“Sure thing. I’ll let you know about the symbols if I find something out.”

“Thanks,” I called back, following Marcy.

We walked down the hall and went to the morgue. “Hey, Damien, you got anything for us?” Marcy said as we entered.

“Not much yet. Gamble definitely drowned. Did Lindsey tell you about the water?”

“That it was baptismal water, yes,” I answered.

“I think it was poured down his throat until he drowned. I found some of it in his lungs.”

“Do you have a time of death?” Marcy asked.

“I’d put it between eleven thirty and one a.m. Not sure I can get much closer.”

“Anything else you can tell us about him?” I asked.

“He was struck on the head, probably when he was bound the first time. There are rope burns on his wrists that don’t match how he was found. I found a couple of fine pieces of wood in the head wound that need to be analyzed. He also has some track marks.”

“Fresh?” Marcy questioned.

“Within the last week. He was definitely a user.”

The rest of our workday was spent doing background research on our victim, and at five, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. The day had been extra long since we’d started around five a.m. I was wiped and ready to go. I hadn’t expected the first day back after my vacation to be an easy one, but I also hadn’t expected to be thrown into a case like this.

I was also feeling guilty for how my family had treated Callie and for comparing her to Marcy in my head. I really needed to stop doing that, but it was hard. I loved Marcy, even if she would never be more than my best friend. There was something about her that drew me and made me compare every other woman to her.

“You okay?” Marcy asked as she drove me home.

“Yeah, just thinking about what I can do to make things up to Callie.”

“Flowers and a romantic dinner would probably go a long way,” she suggested.

“Not a bad idea… I’ll probably have to bring it to the salon though; she’s covering walk-ins until close.”

“Get some flameless candles, a tablecloth, some flowers and a nice dinner.”

“I’ll do it. Thanks, Marce.”

“No problem.” She pulled into my driveway. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” I got out and closed the door before waving to her.

Heading inside, I looked up the number for Carlitos Gardel Argentine Steakhouse and placed a takeaway order of filet mignons, a couple of de berro salads, verdes and a bottle of wine. After a quick shower, I dressed in a nice suit and then went to the kitchen to grab the things I wasn’t going to buy. I put plates, cutlery and wine goblets, along with a bottle opener, into a picnic basket. I also grabbed a nice tablecloth from the linen closet.

Once I had all of that ready, I went out to the car and hit the flower shop and the bakery next door before going to Carlitos to pick up our order. I parked next to Callie’s car in the back of the salon, gathered everything and went in.

“Angel,” Callie said with surprise as I came in.

“Hey, sweetness, thought I’d surprise you with dinner.” I handed her the bouquet of flowers and kissed her cheek.

“That’s so sweet. Trisha, can you handle things out here without me for a little while?”

One of the two stylists who wasn’t with a client walked over. “Sure thing. Whatever you brought smells delicious.”

“Picked up Carlitos on the way here.”

“Well, what are you standing around here for? Go enjoy that food.” Trisha smiled. “Bella, Liz and I can handle things out here.”

“Thanks.”

I followed Callie to the back, and she cleared off the table as I set the basket down and pulled out the tablecloth and laid it over the table. Going back to the basket, I got out the plates, cutlery, glasses and then realized I’d forgotten a couple of things. “I meant to pick up some of those flameless candles, but I forgot.”

“That’s okay, this is lovely. It’s the thought behind it,” Callie murmured.

I pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down. “I forgot the napkins too.”

“We’ve got paper towels; it will be fine.”

I sighed. “I was just trying to make this really special, and I’m screwing it up already.”

“No, you aren’t, but why were you trying to make it special? Did I miss something? It’s not our anniversary or my birthday.”

As I set out our food and put it on our plates, I said, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

I looked down. “For the week with my family. I don’t know why my mom and Tia Lucia were behaving like that. And because of Juanita.”

“They didn’t like me,” Callie said matter-of-factly.

“They don’t know you.”

“Angel, they judged me before even meeting me, brought an old girlfriend there to try to come between us. They knew what they were doing.”

“That’s not what⁠—”

“Yes, it was, and yes, they did. They knew exactly what they were doing. And that’s on them. What upset me more was the fact that you tried to play it off like that wasn’t what they were doing. We could have gone to stay somewhere else, enjoyed the beach and done stuff on our own, but you kept trying to make them like me and insisted that nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you the truth about what was going on, and we should have left.” But I’d kept trying to make things work. Maybe that was the entire problem. I was trying to make things work that maybe weren’t meant to work. Still…

Callie smiled and reached over to take my hand. “It’s okay. I know your intentions were good, but yeah, next time, just be truthful.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

Callie looked at the meal that was getting cold in front of us. “Well, this does go a long way to making it up to me. Let’s enjoy it before it gets too cold.”

I drew her hand up to my lips and kissed it. “Thank you.”

The problem was, even though she’d basically forgiven me, I wasn’t sure that things between us would work long term. I liked her a lot, she was an amazing woman, and I was doing my best to make it work, but I hadn’t given her my heart. I didn’t know if it was even possible when so much of it belonged to someone else.

7

CANVASSING THE NEIGHBORHOOD

MARCY

Tuesday

“Iknow we checked out the apartment, but maybe we should canvass the neighborhood where Gamble dealt,” I said, twisting in my chair as I thought about the case.

“That’s a good idea, and we still need to check with Vice on that Blade Xi guy and whoever has been cooking meth for both Gamble and Xi.”

I nodded and pursed my lips as I considered what to do first. “Okay, let’s check in with them, since we’re here, then we can head out. I just keep thinking that someone had to have seen something, right? Maybe some building’s security camera caught him being snatched off the street?”

“If he was even on the street when it happened. We have no idea where he was taken from. Just because his apartment looked undisturbed doesn’t mean he wasn’t taken from there or from the parking lot there.”

“True.” I scratched my neck. “I hate not knowing where he was when he was taken. Makes everything more difficult. We need to set up a timeline of his movements.”

“If we can find anyone to talk, maybe we can figure out where he was.”

Standing up, I said, “Let’s go talk to Hernández; maybe he can direct us to whoever is working the Asian gangs.”

We headed over to Vice, who was in charge of narcotics and gangs. We found Lieutenant Hernández in his office. I knocked on his door as various Vice detectives gave us the side-eye. I did my best to ignore them.

“Kendrick, Reyes, what brings you here again?” Hernández asked.

“We’re looking for some information pertaining to our case. You know we’ve got the Edward Gamble murder?”

“I’m aware. You asked Detective Ayala about him. I believe he cooperated with you, didn’t he?”

“He did, yes; however, we now have some additional questions about a name we’ve come across in connection with Gamble.”

“Okay, what have you got?”

“Gamble was found with baggies of meth in his pocket.”

Hernández nodded. “Makes sense; he was a low-level dealer.”

“Right. The lab tested the meth and found that same formula matched a bust Vice made a while back of a guy named Blade Xi from one of the Chinese gangs,” I explained. “So we were wanting information on that guy and if it was possible Gamble was working for the gang, or if there’s any information on where he got his meth.”

“Blade Xi? He’s with the Hop Sing Boys, who’ve made a resurgence recently in the Chinese Triad hierarchy. They were pretty big in the San Francisco area back in the seventies, but in seventy-seven, there was a gang war that decimated the group, and the SFPD task force pretty much dismantled them after that. Unfortunately, several of the members who survived moved here to LA, had kids, and taught them about the gang, and those kids then began recruiting to bring the gang back.”

“So his gang has been around for more than fifty years?” Angel questioned.

“These Asian gangs go back further than that; that’s just the US history timeline. Most of them were started in China and Hong Kong. They have deep roots, and they’re hard to eradicate fully.”

“Okay, so where do the Hop Sing Boys get their meth, and would they have Gamble as part of their gang?”

Hernández rubbed his chin. “That’d be a question for Chen. He’s our Asian gang expert.” He looked out at the detectives and then called, “Chen, can you join us?”

A medium-height man with spikey black hair and brown eyes stood up and walked over to us. He wore a black suit that fit him perfectly, a black tie with tiny golden dragons on it, and black dress shoes. On his neck above his collar was part of a tattoo that looked like the scales of a serpent, and I wondered how large the tattoo actually was. He smiled, his perfect white teeth showing as he held out his hand to us. “You’re Detective Kendrick.”

I was taken aback at the admiration in his gaze. “I am, yes,” I answered as I shook his hand.

“Jaw-long Chen, you can call me Jay,” he replied as he shook Angel’s hand. “Good job on that El Gato case.”

“Thanks.”

“Chen, they’re asking about Blade Xi and who cooks meth for the Hop Sing Boys. It’s connected to the Gamble murder.”

“Oh yeah? That’d be Zimo. He’s not part of the Hop Sing Boys, more of an independent entrepreneur. We’ve busted him a few times, but he just keeps setting up operations in new places.”

“If he’s not with the Hop Sing Boys, and he’s cooking meth, why is he still on the streets?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that make him like El Gato? Why hasn’t he been stopped?”

“Right, so he’s never had more than a batch or two on him when we’ve busted him. We know he’s cooking it, we’ve found the remnants of where he’s cooked before, but he never makes it in large quantities as far as we’re aware. He sells cheap to the gangs who buy it and sell it for profit, but he’s not exclusive. Says he does it more for the thrill than anything else. He has been known to tip us off to certain gang activities to mitigate prosecution.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “So he’s an informant.”

“I guess you could look at him that way. He’s not doing it out of the goodness of his heart. More as a way to get out of harsher charges when he’s caught.”

“So another criminal who’s released to the street just for ratting on someone bigger.” I was beyond pissed off.

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“Great, so probably not who killed Gamble.”

Chen shook his head and laughed. “No, if you saw this guy, you’d know he couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“And what about the meth he’s making and selling to the dealers? What is that if not hurting people?” I challenged.

“Okay, whoa, I get what you’re saying, but that’s an indirect harm. He personally couldn’t ever physically hurt someone. He’s, like, five feet two, about a hundred pounds and fifty-six years old.”

That description alone pretty much ruled him out as our killer. There was no way he’d have gotten Gamble into that position without help. Still, I wanted to speak to him and get my own read on him. “Where can we find him?”

“And what about Xi or the Hop Sing Boys, would they take exception to Gamble dealing?” Angel added.

“No, Gamble worked an area of LA that the Hop Sing Boys don’t consider their territory. They aren’t looking to expand, from what I know. They just want to hold their area. Where Gamble dealt, it’s more neutral territory. His customers are more weekend partiers than drug fiends.”

“Still, I’d like to talk to Zimo. See if he knows anything.”

Chen nodded. “I can set that up.”

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

“Not at all. Happy to help,” Chen replied.

“Let us know if you need anything else,” Hernández added.

“We will, thanks.” I handed Chen my card. “You’ll call me when you’ve got it set up?”

“Absolutely.”

Thirty minutes later we reached the neighborhood where Gamble did his dealing. It wasn’t far from his apartment. Angel and I began going from business to business, checking to see if anyone had seen anything or if they had security cameras, but we came up nearly empty. At least for the day Gamble went missing.

We did manage to get a hold of some street surveillance footage that showed Gamble walking by, but not of him actually dealing or where he went beyond the camera’s view. It showed him talking with a large white man, but he didn’t seem threatened by the man. They moved past the camera’s view, and Angel and I went out to see what was in that direction.

We came across an alley about three buildings down, and I stopped. Looking around, I said, “This is where that guy at the corner shop said Gamble hung out, right?”

“Looks like it from what he described,” Angel agreed.

The two of us stood in the entrance of the alleyway and realized we were pretty hidden from the view of any of the businesses or the street’s security cameras. There were cars parked on the street beyond the sidewalk, and both sides of the alleyway had large trash bins and quite a lot of garbage strewn around.

“We should have CSI come check this alley. Maybe they’ll find something,” I said, turning around to stare at the alleyway. I noticed the other end was open as well and started walking toward it. At the end was another, quieter street. Again there weren’t any cameras that faced this direction. Gamble had chosen his dealing spot well.

“I don’t know, Marce, kind of a long shot. Chenevert might not approve the man-hours to comb through this alley for a guess.”

I sighed. “Yeah, probably not.” It was a good point. Which just served to frustrate me more. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. We’ve been at this for hours now, and it’s past two.”

We got back in the car and stopped at the Jack in the Box on West Sixth Street. I got the bacon Swiss burger with fries and a soda, while Angel ordered the cluck sandwich combo. As we ate, my phone vibrated.

“Looks like Chen,” I said before answering. “This is Kendrick.”

“Hey, Detective, it’s Jay Chen. I talked to Zimo; he said he’d meet you at three at Pershing Square Park near the bell tower.”

“Thanks, Chen, I appreciate your help.”

“No problem, and call me Jay.”

“Okay, Jay. You can call me Marcy.”

“I will, Marcy. You be safe out there now.” He hung up.

I dropped my phone back in my pocket. “We should go. Jay said Zimo will meet us at the bell tower in Pershing Square Park at three.”

Angel nodded, but didn’t say anything.

In fact, he’d been pretty quiet most of the day. I wondered if something was bothering him that wasn’t case related. I considered asking him straight out, but then figured if it was something he actually wanted to talk about, he’d bring it up. Still, I decided to probe just a little bit to see if I could suss out what the issue was.

“How was last night?” I questioned as I drove to the park.

It took him a moment to answer, like I’d pulled him from his thoughts. “Fine. You were right, Callie did know. I apologized; she accepted. We’re good.”

I glanced at him in my peripheral vision. “That’s good. I’m glad you talked things out.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

It seemed I wasn’t going to get any more out of him, and it was hard not to press further, but we’d arrived, and I figured I could table the thought for later. “Let’s go see Zimo.”

8

SENSATIONALIZED FEAR

MARCY

Tuesday Evening

Zimo hadn’t been able to give us much of anything on Gamble or whom he might have pissed off. After meeting him, I understood what Jay had meant about Zimo not being capable. He was a soft-spoken man, who seemed pretty smart and inquisitive. Why he was cooking meth was a puzzle to me, but people did all kinds of crazy things in the name of fun. I’d asked him about it, and he’d merely said that if he didn’t, someone else would, and his was safer than many of the others’ on the street. I didn’t know if I could agree with that; it was meth; that in itself made it unsafe. Either way, I didn’t think he had anything to do with Gamble’s death.

As I drove home, I felt like we were still at square one. Sure, we had the religious angle to try, but I just couldn’t see why Gamble, of all people, would have been killed by some religious fanatic of any kind. He wasn’t into any particular religion that I could see. And what was with the waterboarding? That seemed more like a CIA tactic used to garner information from a terrorist. It just didn’t make sense to me.

I walked into the house and called, “Frank?” I’d seen his truck in my driveway, so I knew he was there.

“Exercise room,” he shouted from down the hall.

I’d turned one of the spare bedrooms into a gym of sorts, and both Frank and Stephen enjoyed using it as much as I did. Usually I preferred to run outside, but it was nice to have this set up for when I wanted to stay in; plus I could do yoga and lift weights.

I walked down the hallway and stopped in the doorway. Frank was on the weight bench, lifting a barbell over his chest. “Should you be doing that with your shoulder?” I frowned, worrying about his gunshot wound. It had been healing for a while now, but I was still concerned.

“It’s not heavy, forty pounds. Figured I should start slow.” He set the barbell on the stand and stood up. He smiled as his eyes landed on me. “How was work?”

I made a face. “Aggravating.”

He slung a sweaty arm around my shoulder and drew me close, then kissed me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.” I wrapped my arms around his middle. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“I thought I’d grill some burgers, and I picked up some mac and cheese to go with.”

I didn’t tell him that I’d had Jack in the Box for lunch. He’d been thoughtful, and I wasn’t going to spoil that. Besides, burgers were always delicious. “Sounds good.”

“Let me grab a shower, and then I’ll toss them on the grill.”

While he showered, I changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt. I was in the kitchen, grabbing a beer, when he came in. “Want one?” I tilted the beer up.

“Yeah, let me get the meat on the grill.”

I grabbed another bottle and took them outside to the patio table. Frank had put the news on the TV we’d installed on the side of the house for when we wanted to be outside and enjoy the patio but still wanted to watch a game or a movie.

“Is there nothing else on?” I asked, glancing at the news anchor, who was talking about what was going on in the Mid-East.

“The Chargers game is on in forty minutes, figured I’d leave it until then. They should be getting to sports soon.” Frank shrugged.

I took a sip of my beer and then nearly choked as the news anchor switched topics.

“And in LA news, a local drug dealer who went by the name the Gambler has been murdered in an unusual way.” She spoke as if this was an everyday occurrence. “He was found in a warehouse on North Occidental Boulevard. And from what our team has discovered, Gamble was pinned to a cross and waterboarded.”

“Son of a bitch!” I slammed my glass bottle down on the table, thankfully not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to spill some of the beer out onto my hand.

“That’s your case, I take it.” Frank arched a brow.

“Turn it up, please.” I was livid that they were speculating on the case.

“Gamble was known to sell meth and various other drugs from an alleyway off of Sixth Street, and this reporter has to wonder if his death is related to his activities. You’ll recall a few months back a major player in the drug business was brought down by LAPD Detectives Kendrick and Reyes. Is it possible that this is one of El Gato’s men making a move here in LA to set up shop for him once again? Or maybe a new player has moved on the scene? Only time will tell. We here at Channel 5 News will keep you up to date with the latest information on this case.”

“Unbelievable. How the hell did they get that information?” I growled as I picked up my phone and texted Angel.

Channel 5 just reported on how Gamble was killed. How did the press find out the details? Robinson and Chenevert are going to go ballistic.

I added an angry-face emoji and then sent it.

“You know how this goes; somebody leaked it,” Frank said. “Who found the body? Could have come from them.”

I sighed. “I guess you’re right, might not have been from us. It was the security agency that patrolled the warehouses in the area who found the door had been broken into, but as far as I was aware, they didn’t find the body. That was our people. So now I’m wondering if they lied.”

My phone buzzed, and I looked at Angel’s reply.

I’ll look into it, can’t see Allen, Jenkins, Mendoza, or Peters talking to the press.

I quickly sent him back another text.

Me neither. Frank thinks maybe the security guard?

Then he lied. I’ll find out. And I’ll text Chenevert.

Thanks.

I looked up to Frank as I set my phone back down. “Angel’s going to look into it.”

“Good. So you got any leads?” Frank asked, tilting his head toward the TV as he flipped the meat on the grill.

“No, unfortunately. It’s so weird. He wasn’t a threat to anyone, apparently, at least from what we’ve been told. He dealt in a neutral part of the city to mostly college kids and partiers. We looked into his supplier, and that was a dead end. He wasn’t robbed, he had both cash and drugs on him still, so that wasn’t the motive. And then there was the way he was killed. Like he was some kind of terrorist. I can’t decide if it was legit or if it was just made to look that way.”

“That reporter said he was pinned to a cross?”

I nodded. “That was the other strange thing. It wasn’t regular water. It was baptismal water.”

Frank flipped the burgers again and added cheese. “Maybe you’ve got some zealot on your hands? Someone who is passing judgment on sinners?”

“That’s as good a guess as any. If that’s the case though, then I don’t think he’s done. I think he’s just getting started.”

“So another serial killer.”

“Seems like it. You know, they say there are anywhere between twenty-five and fifty active serial killers in the US at any given time.”

“And LA seems to get more than its fair share,” Frank replied as he plated the burgers.

“Probably because we’ve got such a large population here. I mean seriously, we’ve got the population of some entire states just in LA. That makes a good hunting ground for a serial killer.”

“Let’s go fix our plates; then we can watch the game; should be starting soon.”

I followed Frank into the kitchen and put my burger on a bun, then added tomato, pickle, avocado, and some mild salsa. Once I had my burger ready, I added a generous helping of the mac and cheese to my plate, grabbed another beer, and went back out to the patio table.

“Before the game starts, I wanted to let you know I’m starting back to work Monday.” Frank held his burger in two hands, his elbows on the table. He didn’t look happy, more resigned.

“Okay…” I dragged the word out, hoping he’d expand on that, even though he’d taken a bite of his burger. “Are you ready for that?”

“Not really, but I don’t know what else I’d do, and I’ve got my pension to think about too. It’s not like I can retire and get full benefits yet. I’ve still got another eight years before that kicks in. If I can make it that long.”

His tone worried me. “Frank, I⁠—”

“It’s fine, babe. It is what it is.” He sighed and took another bite of his burger. “You remember that pup we met at the sled-dog camp in Skagway?”

I nodded slowly. Frank had fallen in love with a brown and white Alaskan malamute puppy named Timber when we’d visited the small town. “He was awfully cute.”

“Remember how I got the guy’s card?”

I set my burger down and looked at him, wondering where he was going with this. “Yes…”

“So I called him to ask about Timber. I’ve bought him.”

“You bought a dog?”

Frank nodded. “I pick him up from LAX on Saturday.”

“You think that’s a good idea? I mean, we don’t get snow here, Frank. He’s an Alaskan malamute; isn’t LA going to be a bit warm for him?”

“Cal said he would do fine as long as I train him well, keep him active and groom him.”

“Are you going to have time for all that?” I looked at him, skeptical.

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this since we got back. It means I need to put in a fence, and I’ll have to stay in Santa Monica more often unless… I can bring him with me here.”

I smiled and reached over to take his hand. “Timber is welcome here too. We can fix the backyard up for him. Didn’t Cal say they like to dig?”

Frank smiled. “Yeah. It looks like your fencing goes below the surface, but to be safe, I’ll check. You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not, Timber was a sweet-tempered puppy. I wouldn’t use him as a guard dog, but as a companion, he’ll be great. I just worry he’ll miss pulling a sled and playing in the snow.”

Laughing, Frank said, “That’s not going to be a problem, at least the sled-pulling part. I’ve looked into some specific training classes for him that will play to his skill set. I think working with him will help me deal with stress and anxiety. At least that’s what my therapist said.”

“Okay, and what are you going to do while you’re at work all day, and you have to leave him home alone?”

“I won’t be leaving him home alone. Mom’s going to dog sit Timber while I’m at work, and I’m working on getting permission to bring him with me to the precinct. We’ve got other dogs there, a couple of therapy dogs as well as the K-9 dogs. But I know he has to be trained up first, so getting him certified as a service dog is the first part of his training.”

“Seems like you’ve really thought about this.” I wasn’t sure how he was going to do his job if he had to keep an eye on his dog, but I also knew that I’d never seen Frank as relaxed and stress-free as he’d been in that sled-dog camp with Timber.

“I have.”

“Then I’ll go with you Saturday to pick him up and bring him home, unless I’m called out for the case.”

“Thanks, TT. I was worried you’d be against it,” he said.

I smiled at his endearment for me. TT stood for tiny tornado. “If having Timber here makes you happy, then I’m all for it.” Because at the end of the day, that was what I wanted for him. I wanted him to be happy. I just hoped he wasn’t biting off more than he could chew.

“I miss Alaska. I wish we could go back,” he said, squeezing my hand.

“It really was lovely. Peaceful,” I agreed. “Maybe someday.”

He nodded. “Hey, maybe when we go back, we can take Timber with us, and we can go on those hikes you were talking about that we didn’t get to do.”

“He’d probably love that, but we’ve got a long way to go before any of that can happen. We don’t even have him yet,” I said with a laugh.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to make plans for the future, right?”

I shook my head and smiled at him. “I think you’re working up to saying you want to move there.”

“Would it be so bad?”

Thinking back about our time there, I couldn’t come up with a single argument of why it would be bad save for one. “It wouldn’t be, but our lives are here; our jobs are here. Not sure what I’d do there.”

“I know you wouldn’t be happy if you weren’t doing the job you’re so good at. It’s a nice dream though. Maybe someday, when we retire.”

“Now that is something I can get behind.” I grinned and finished my meal just as the National Anthem began to play on the TV.

9

HELPING OR TAUNTING

ANGEL

Thursday

Marcy and I had spent yesterday morning reviewing everything and had gotten nowhere. In the afternoon we’d been sent out to deal with a shooting of an elderly woman. She’d been home alone, and two men had forced their way into her home and shot her to get a valuable painting. Turned out the daughter had hired the men, and the valuable painting had been a fake. She’d had her mother killed for the money only to find out that there wasn’t any. She’d freaked out and admitted everything when she discovered it was worthless.

I hated cases like that, seeing family turn on one another. I supposed that was why I had tried so hard with my mother, Abuela, and Tia Lucia, trying to get them to like Callie. I didn’t want there to be animosity between them if I asked her to marry me one day. I didn’t know that I would, but it was something I’d thought about. I was working hard for this relationship, and I wanted it to work. I just didn’t know if that was enough.

I was still thinking about it as I walked into the precinct on Thursday morning. Callie had stayed over last night. She’d made us dinner; we’d watched a movie and talked about our days. It had been a nice, relaxing evening. Nothing notable about it, just a good night. It was easy being with her.

“Morning,” Marcy said, “got you a coffee and beignets.” She nodded toward my desk.

My heart swelled. “Thanks, Marce. I’m starved.” She was always doing things like that. “How was your night?”

“Busy. Frank and I went to the pet store to get stuff for Timber. I think we went a little overboard.” She laughed.

“Oh yeah?” I had been surprised yesterday when she’d mentioned Frank getting a dog. “What did you buy?”

“We got a bunch of interactive toys, puzzles and stuff, and then some active stuff for the yard, dog beds for both Frank’s house and mine, tug toys and stuffies. Then the food. This dog is going to be so spoiled, I swear.”

“Puzzles?”

“Malamutes are really intelligent dogs, they have to have their minds stimulated, or they’ll wreak havoc on your house, so we got these puzzle toys that you hide treats in. When they solve the puzzle, they find the treats. It’s kind of cool. Oh, and Frank bought these buttons that Timber can push and learn words. There’s a whole series of people on YouTube who do this for their dogs, and they’re really smart. So Frank wants to try it with Timber and see if it works.”

“I’ve seen those. I’d be afraid they’d be hitting those buttons at three in the morning when I’m trying to sleep.” I laughed as I picked up a beignet and took a bite. The pastry was so delicious I quickly grabbed another and ate it too.

“That would be a problem; guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hey, Kendrick,” Jason said, walking over to us, a white envelope in his hand.

“What’s up, Jason?”

“This was just dropped off. It’s addressed to you.” He handed the white envelope over to Marcy and then returned to his desk.

Glancing at it, I could see there was no return address. All the envelope showed was the address for the LAPD and in care of Detective Marcy Kendrick as well as a stamp and a postmark from Santa Monica. “Frank send you something?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “If Frank was going to send me something, he’d have sent it to my house.”

She had a point. “You going to open it?”

Pulling out a letter opener, she slit the envelope open and slid out a sheet of paper by its corner. I watched her read it silently, her face going pale as she read, and her lips pursed as her eye twitched. She was pissed off. She didn’t say anything, just handed the letter to me.

I gingerly took it, trying to keep my fingerprints from messing up anything else.

I saw the newscast about the murder of that drug dealer. They said he was pinned on a cross and drowned in holy water. I have knowledge of these things, and I believe whoever killed Mr. Gamble believed him to be a vampire or a creature of the night. Holy water is often used to destroy unnatural beings. The cross is a sign that this killer fully believes he is righteous about his beliefs. I think whoever this is, they were attempting to force the creature to be exorcised or changed.

The letter was unsigned, and it left me feeling very uneasy. I glanced at Marcy and then said, “We should take this to Chenevert.”

Marcy shook her head. “No, we need to get it to Lindsey and see if we can pull prints from it. I’ll take a picture of it, and we can show that to Chenevert.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea. This could be our killer trying to explain why he killed Gamble.”

“That was my thought as well. How did he know it was baptismal water?” Marcy questioned. “They didn’t mention that in the news broadcasts, did they?”

“Not the ones I saw, and I did check in with the patrol officers; none of them leaked to the press. I haven’t heard back from the security guard; he’s done a bunk. The company said he’s taken a leave of absence. Leads me to believe he did go in that building and see our victim.”

“Or he’s the killer,” Marcy suggested. “What do we know about this guy?”

Thinking about it, I shook my head. “Not much. You take care of this, and I’ll start checking him out.”

“Okay, I’ll be back.” Marcy took the envelope and letter, slid them into evidence bags and then left the detective pool.

I turned back to my desk and pulled up the name of the security guard, Justin Eckhart. I ran a thorough background check on him. Nothing pinged, which wasn’t surprising since he did work as a security guard. These security companies usually did pretty thorough backgrounds on their hires. Next, I started the process to look into his financials, which would take a bit to get approval, and then opened up social media and began to find which sites he was on.

Marcy returned as I was neck deep into Justin’s Facebook posts. The man posted a lot. After reading them I knew three things. First, Justin was currently lying on a beach in Panama City. Second, the man couldn’t spell correctly to save his life. His posts were littered with typos. The letter we’d received, if it was from the killer, hadn’t come from him. And third, he’d gone to the press with what he’d seen and smelled at the scene. Namely the balsam in the water, which the newspaper he’d sold the story to mentioned. Thankfully, it wasn’t front-page news, and the paper hadn’t made the connection between the balsam and holy water like our letter writer had.

“How about we grab some lunch,” Marcy suggested, drawing me out of the mind-sucking vortex of the internet.

I glanced at the clock and realized I’d been digging for more than three hours. It was nearly noon. I rubbed my eyes and nodded. “Sure, sounds good.” Closing out the program and shutting off my monitor, I stood up and stretched.

“Where do you wanna go?” Marcy asked as she opened her desk drawer and pulled her purse out.

“I don’t care, your choice.” I wasn’t a picky eater; she knew that. I’d eat just about anywhere.

Twenty minutes later we were sitting in a booth at the New Moon Café, eating chicken pot stickers while we waited for our main course. I’d ordered the New Moon dragon beef dish, and Marcy had gotten the spicy garlic shrimp with mint.

“So what did Chenevert say about the letter?” I asked as I picked up my soda and took a drink.

“Thinks it could be our killer, taunting us.”

“What do you think about his reasoning? You think he believes Gamble was really a vampire?” I ate another chicken pot sticker, enjoying the flavor bursting on my tongue.

“Who knows? I mean, what person in their right mind believes vampires are real? This guy is either delusional, or he’s playing with us.” She frowned as she picked at her own chicken pot sticker, ripping it apart with her fork.

“Well, I’m pretty sure Mr. Eckhart isn’t our killer. He’s in Panama City, lying on the beach, taking pictures of bikini-clad women.”

Marcy arched her brow at me. “He’s posting them?”

“Oh yeah. The man’s entire Facebook page is filled with photos he’s taken of women, and the posts where he’s shared his thoughts are filled with misspellings. I’m talking easy everyday words, and they don’t sound anything like our letter writer.”

The waitress brought our main dishes to the table and took away our empty appetizer plates while Marcy considered what I’d said.

“So either he’s more than likely not our letter writer, or he did leak to the press about the scene.”

“That’s what I think.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not our killer. He could still be the one who killed Gamble, leaked details to the press, then jetted off to Florida,” she suggested.

“But what’s his motive? And where does the letter writer come in? Is he our killer or just some helpful citizen?” I replied before eating a bite of the spicy beef dish.

“I don’t know.”

I smiled. “Well, to quote Oscar Wilde, ‘The answers are all out there, we just need to ask the right questions.’” I took another bite of my beef and nearly choked as I got a mouthful of Thai chili pepper. I grabbed my soda and gulped it.

Marcy grinned. “And that’s why I don’t get the dragon beef.”

I fanned my mouth and tried to blink away the tears that had pooled in my eyes. “Damn, that was a spicy chili.” I shook my head, still trying to let my insides cool off before I ate any more. “Maybe Lindsey will have something for us by the time we get back,” I said after another minute.

“Let’s hope so because I feel stuck.”

10

AMBUSHED BY THE PRESS

MARCY

Thursday Afternoon

Angel and I finished eating our lunch and then stopped at the Corner Bakery, which was just down the street, for dessert. I got a lemon bar, and Angel had the cinnamon crème cake. I drove us back to the precinct and pulled into the parking lot, but couldn’t hold back the groan at the sight before us.

“What are they all doing here?” I muttered, staring at the news vans.

“Maybe something’s happened?” Angel suggested.

“And we didn’t hear about it? That’s unlikely.” I gave him a skeptical look. “With any luck they’ll ignore us and go after whoever they’re here for.”

“We could always just pull back out and wait for them to clear off.”

I’d actually considered it, but I really wanted to know if Lindsey had gotten anything off the letter or envelope. “No, better just get this over with.” I shut the car down, pulled my keys out and opened the door. As soon as Angel was out, I hit the button on my fob and turned toward the building.

Unfortunately, my horn beeping with the click of the fob drew the reporters’ attention, and like a pack of vultures, they ran toward us. “Detectives!”

“Detective Kendrick!”

“Detective Reyes!”

“Well, shit,” Angel swore. “Don’t answer them; let’s just push through and get inside.”

I agreed. I had really had enough of the press. I moved forward with him as we ended up in the middle of the pack. The reporters just shifted position and started moving with us.

“What can you tell us about Gamble’s death?”

“No comment,” I replied.

“Did he drown?”

“No comment,” Angel interjected.

“Was he actually waterboarded with holy water?”

“Do we have another serial killer in LA? Do we need to be worried?”

I paused and stared at them as Angel tugged on my arm. “Please direct any and all enquiries to the LAPD’s press secretary, Bradley Sheppard. He will be able to answer anything you need to know.” Need to know were the operative words there.

“He doesn’t know anything—” one of the reporters began.

“He gave us no-comment answers,” another said.

“Then as I’m sure you’re aware, that means we have nothing to say at this time—” I was getting angry at their behavior.

Angel yanked on my arm, and I stumbled slightly, but quickly righted myself. I gave him a nod when he mouthed, “Sorry,” to me.

“If you’ll excuse us,” I said as I used my shoulder to push through them toward the door.

“But—” several began, but I wasn’t listening anymore.

“Just ignore them,” Angel muttered as we finally got to the door.

We made it inside, and instead of heading over to HSS, we went down to the CSI labs. The techs were busy doing their jobs examining evidence, but I didn’t give them much mind as I walked over to Lindsey’s office door and knocked.

“Oh, hey,” she said, looking up from whatever she was working on. She set down her pen and stood up. “You’re here about the letter.”

“Yup,” Angel replied before I could.

“Afraid I’ve got bad news. There’s no prints on it aside from yours and Angel’s. The envelope had more, but I ran them, and they’re yours, Angel’s, Jason’s, and a couple of post office employees. Most likely, the sender wore gloves.”

“Well, that’s just great.” I knew my tone was sarcastic, but I was really hoping we’d catch a break.

“Hey, I did my best, but I can’t make fingerprints appear that aren’t there.” Lindsey huffed and gave me a ticked-off look as she put her fists on her hips.

“Sorry. It’s just been an annoying day.”

“Yeah? Well, take it out on someone else.”

I gave her a contrite look and nodded. She was my friend and didn’t deserve my annoyance, especially when it seemed she was stressed out herself. “I’m sorry, Linds. Is everything okay?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry too. I’m not mad at you. I know you weren’t really directing that at me but at the situation. I’m just in a bad mood.”

Angel gave me a look and pointed toward the door. I knew he was telling me he was going to give me a moment of privacy with Lindsey, and I was grateful. He mumbled, “See ya, Linds,” then left her office, closing the door behind him.

“Spill it, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“Just a bad day. Well, technically, that’s not true. More of a bad date last night that spilled over into my day today.” She sighed.

“Bad date? Who with?”

“One of the patrol guys. Devon Banks. Didn’t go very well, and he showed up here this afternoon like we were an item, demanding shit, and I just lost it.”

“He was under the impression you were a couple after one date?”

“I guess. He was demanding to know why I didn’t text him back, and why I was ignoring him. It was unpleasant having to deal with that in front of my team.”

“I hope you didn’t let him get away with that kind of shit.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t, but it never should have happened, you know?”

“Yeah, some men just don’t take the hint.”

She nodded. “Anyway, I should have cut you some slack. I didn’t mean to get pissy with you.”

“It’s fine. I’m just aggravated by the press who ambushed me as I came back from lunch and because we’re getting nowhere on this case. I don’t want to send it to the cold files, but if we don’t have something happen soon, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“I get it. We’re still trying to track things down, so if I come across anything, you’ll be my first call.”

“Thanks, Linds. I’ll see ya later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I headed out and met up with Angel back in the detective pool. Before I could even sit down, Chenevert sent us out on a call to a shooting in progress at a bank. It wasn’t just us, though; he sent Ferris and Bridges with us.

“All y’all put on your vests! I don’t want anyone taking chances!” Chenevert shouted after us as we rushed to the door.

Thankfully, the press was gone by the time we got outside. Angel was parked closer, so we grabbed his car, and I tossed the siren on the dash as he sped out of the parking lot before I could even get my seat belt on. I could hear Ferris and Bridges behind us as we sped onto the 101 and then five minutes later took the off-ramp to South Virgil Avenue.

We arrived at Citizen’s Bank at the same time as three ambulances and numerous patrol officers. SWAT pulled in a minute later, and a hostage negotiator got out, holding a megaphone.

“LAPD, we’ve got the bank surrounded; surrender your weapons and come out with your hands up!” they shouted.

As shots were fired out the front windows of the bank, I knew it was going to be a long afternoon. I handed Angel his Kevlar vest and put my own on. We kept sets in each of our cars so that we didn’t have to waste time moving one back and forth from one car to another. It wasn’t a quick thing putting it on with what I was wearing today. I had to take off my blazer and shoulder holster to get it on properly. Once it was securely on, I redid my holster and put my blazer back on, then we got out of the car.

I nodded to Bridges and Ferris, who were keeping low as they made their way toward us. “We’ll have to wait for SWAT to end this standoff; then we can go in,” I said as more shots came from the bank.

The four of us dropped below the hood of Angel’s SUV and pulled our weapons.

“See where they want us?” Angel suggested.

I crouched as I moved toward the hostage negotiator and the SWAT commander, Lieutenant Gracen. “Where do you want us, Lieutenant?” I asked, pausing by his elbow.

He glanced from me to Angel, Bridges and Ferris. “Just hang back until we get the scene under control, Detective.”

“Any particular area you want us to cover?”

Again he glanced around the scene and then directed us to the opposite corner. “Cover that section. If they get past us, take them out.”

“Yes, sir.” I returned to the others and told them what Gracen had directed.

It took nearly two hours, but finally, three of the bank robbers emerged from the building, running out the door with their guns raised. I didn’t know what they were thinking, but they each took off in a different direction, with one headed toward us. He started pulling the trigger as he got closer, and the four of us opened fire. I stood up to get better aim and felt at least one bullet hit my chest, but it must have been a small-caliber weapon because I barely felt it.

“Marcy!” Angel cried from next to me.

“I’m good,” I called back as I charged forward toward the now downed robber. I kicked the Sig Sauer P322 from his hand.

Angel dropped to the ground and checked for a pulse, then shook his head. “He’s gone.”

I looked across the area to where the other bank robbers had run and saw that SWAT had taken them out as well. One looked to still be alive. I signaled to Lieutenant Gracen, and he acknowledged me, then directed paramedics our way.

We spent the next three hours at the scene, talking to witnesses and clearing the scene. The four of us had to give up our service weapons since we’d all shot at the perp and hit him. I wasn’t too worried about being cleared of the shooting, but I hated being without my weapon.

Angel and I walked back to his SUV, and I started taking off my blazer.

“You sure you’re okay?” Angel asked, his eyes on my vest.

I looked down and noticed three bullet holes. The adrenaline from the shooting was long gone, but my heart began to race again, seeing the holes. If I hadn’t worn the vest, I’d be headed to the morgue right now instead of back to the precinct and then home.

“Yeah, I’m fine. They didn’t go through, thankfully.” I un-velcroed the vest and turned it around. There were indentions, and the bullets were lodged in the Kevlar, but I was right. They hadn’t made it through to pierce my skin. I’d have bruising, but I’d take that any day of the week over actual bullet wounds.

“Why the fuck did you stand up like that?” Angel questioned. “If his aim had been any higher⁠—”

I swallowed hard. He wasn’t wrong about that part; however, if I hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t be here now. “I couldn’t get a good shot on him crouched like that, and if I hadn’t stood up, my head would have been where those bullets landed.”

Angel went pale at my words as it must have just registered that I was right. He reached for me, pulling me into a hug. His arms were tight bands around me, almost crushing me. I wrapped my arms around him too, and we just stood like that for a minute.

“I’m okay,” I murmured.

“Scared the shit out of me,” he replied, finally letting me go.

“Me too.” I gave him a tremulous smile. “Home, James?” I said, keeping my tone light.

“As madam wishes,” he said a moment later in his best chauffeur voice, opening the door for me.

I sat down in my seat and realized I’d have to tell Frank about today before he found out from someone else. That was a conversation I wasn’t looking forward to.

11

MONSTER CROSSING

DEMON SLAYER

Thursday Night

Iwas at the stoplight, my van idling, when I noticed the demon on the bus in the lane next to me. Its teeth were small, pointed triangles, but numerous, its eyes huge pentagons, the irises shaped like ovals. The demon’s nose was square, and its ears were an irregular hexagon shape. Even its body was sharp sided, the clothes it wore ill-fitting. It was rather shocking to see it just seated there staring at me. I couldn’t understand how no one else noticed.

The bus started to pull away, and I feared the demon would devour the other people on the bus. I needed to do something. I knew the good Lord was calling on me to save those people from the monster in their midst. I had to capture it. I had to release that poor soul from the demon’s grip. I had no idea how I was going to make that happen, but the Lord was with me, and I knew He would guide me.

I followed the bus, keeping an eye on who got on and who disembarked. I prayed the entire time that the monster would continue to keep to itself and leave those people alone. Luckily, it did and got off the bus at the stop near my neighborhood. I was shocked that the demon was so close to where I lived. Was it a coincidence? Or was it hunting me? It had to know that God had sent me to dispatch it. Was it trying to take me out before I got to it? It wouldn’t work. The good Lord was on my side. I would eradicate the world of these demons. It was my calling.

I watched the monster cross the street and turn down another quieter street. This was my chance. I turned the headlights off on my van, not wanting to signal to the monster that I was following it. I kept my speed at barely a crawl, watching the monster.

“Guide me, dear Lord,” I murmured. “Help me to defeat this demon and do Your bidding.”

I pulled over and parked the van. My heart was pounding hard in my chest as I prepared myself to do God’s work. I put on the gloves I’d started carrying with me after taking out the last demon, then picked up the same rowan tree branch I’d used on the last two demons. I’d anointed it again with the baptismal oils, to cleanse it of the last two demons’ blood.

Getting out of my van, I followed the monster about half a block behind it. I had to be stealthy, hiding in the shadows so I wouldn’t draw its attention. I couldn’t afford for it to attack me before I got the upper hand on it. I pushed closer, and then, when I was about two feet from the demon’s back, I charged, swinging the rowan branch like a baseball bat at the demon’s head.

The demon screeched an ear-piercing sound as it fell to the ground. Its head hit the cement hard and began to bleed out black ooze. I’d damaged it. Quickly looking around, I rushed back to the van, tossed the rowan branch inside and grabbed the blessed rope I’d prepared in case I came across another demon. It seemed our world was more infested with them than I’d originally thought.

The demon didn’t move on the ground as I walked back to it. I’d knocked it out cold. Looking at its clawlike hands, which were more like rectangles with thin, but sharp triangle claws, I shivered. It was a bizarre-looking creature. It took me several tries to get its arms to move as I wanted them to, and in the end, I had to tie them at the front of its body because they wouldn’t bend correctly to be brought behind its back.

A thought came to me. Bind its hands in prayer.

I paused and then murmured, “Yes, Lord.” I put the demon’s hands together and then wrapped the blessed rope around them tightly. It wasn’t thick rope, but it was strong. I bound the demon’s blocky ankles and then dragged it to the van and shoved it in the back onto the rug I’d put in there and closed the doors.

Again I didn’t know exactly where I was going to go, but I trusted the Lord would guide me. I sat behind the steering wheel and asked, “Where do I go, dear Lord?”

You will know when you see it, were the words I heard in my mind.

“Yes, Lord.” I shifted the van into gear and pulled from the curb. I made a turn onto Sixth Street and passed several businesses that were closed, and then turned onto Irolo Street, taking me through Korea Town. I still had no idea where I was going, but I continued following the road, waiting for a sign from the Lord.

I slowly passed Seoul International Park, wondering if that was where I was supposed to go, but it didn’t feel right, so I kept going as Irolo turned into South Normandie Avenue. It wasn’t until I crossed Venice Boulevard that I knew in my soul what I was supposed to do. This demon needed to be brought onto consecrated ground. I turned onto Washington Boulevard and then into Angelus Rosedale Cemetery. I followed the route through the cemetery until I saw the perfect spot.

A large cross stood at the head of a grave to the left of the path. It had an intricate design, and I knew this was the spot the Lord was calling me to. I wouldn’t be able to draw my demon-trap designs here, but that was okay. It was holy ground, so the entire cemetery was a demon trap. The only question was how I was supposed to free the soul the demon had tried to steal.

I opened the back of my van to pull the demon out and noticed the small axe I had used to cut the rowan wood. Seeing it, I knew what I needed to do. I picked it up, then took out one of the jugs of holy water and poured it on the blade of the axe. I needed it blessed to be sure I could destroy this monster properly. It wasn’t the only blade I needed though. I would also need a knife. I had one of those too. I had used it to prepare the rope. Using more of the holy water, I blessed the knife as well.

I set the tools aside while I rolled the demon up in the rug and pulled it from the van. It whimpered as I dragged it over the grass to the cross. I hurried back over to the van, grabbed the rowan branch again and the hand axe, then walked back to the demon, who was struggling as it attempted to wiggle its body, wrapped in the rug, along the ground like a caterpillar. I pulled it back into place before the cross and then knelt on the demon’s back, holding it in place as I raised the branch and swung it down on its head again.

“In the name of the one true God, release your victim, demon!” I said as I knocked it unconscious again.

The demon stopped moving.

I set the branch down and unrolled the body from the rug. Setting the rug aside with the branch, I picked up the axe. I didn’t want the soul to suffer any longer than it had to. I said several prayers, and then with a deep breath, I swung the axe down between the demon’s head and body.

Black ooze gushed, but I swung again, severing the head. I wasn’t finished though. I had more work to do. I needed to free the soul’s heart from the demon. It had been corrupted and wouldn’t be pure until it was freed. Getting up, I returned to the van and picked up the knife. After walking back to the demon’s body, I turned it over and shoved the knife into the blocky chest, opening it. Gently, I reached in and removed the soul’s heart.

“Dear Lord, free this heart from the corruption of the demon.” I closed my eyes as I prayed and set it at the foot of the cross.

When I opened my eyes, the demon’s presence was gone. The body had returned to that of a woman. I adjusted the body, setting it on its knees, its elbows resting on its thighs, the hands still bound in prayer. I couldn’t reattach the head, the demon might return and reinvigorate the body, so I placed the head with the heart at the foot of the cross as well.

“Go in peace, miss,” I said. “I’ve released your soul from the demon.”

Feeling at peace myself, I grabbed my things, got in my van, and headed home.

12

A CORPSE IN PRAYER

MARCY

Friday Morning

My phone blared with “Ride Captain Ride” by Blues Image, and I grabbed it from the night table as I looked at the clock. It was barely five a.m. “Yes, sir?” I answered.

“Kendrick, a body’s turned up,” Captain Robinson said. “I need you and Angel to get over to Angelus Rosedale Cemetery ASAP. It’s a disturbing one.”

I was groggy, but I knew I couldn’t go back to bed. “On my way, sir.”

“Chenevert is going to meet you there.”

“Why, sir?” I asked.

“He’s never been out on an HSS case, so he wants to get a feel for it.”

“But he was at the Bella Jones scene, sir⁠—”

“I’m aware of that, Kendrick, but you and I both know that was a normal kind of scene. Not like this.”

I supposed he had a point. “Okay.” I hung up and ran a hand through my hair. I really needed a shower, so I pushed myself out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom. I knew I would have to hurry. I dialed Angel, and when he answered, I said, “We’ve got another body. I’ll pick you up in twenty-five minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

The shower took less than five minutes, thanks to my hair being short again. I ran a brush through it, got dressed in a pair of navy blue pants and a pale pink blouse, put on my holster and checked my weapon, which I’d gotten back at the end of my shift yesterday, thankfully. Grabbing my matching blazer, I set it on the bed as I pulled on some ankle socks, then slid my feet into my blue Skechers. Picking up the blazer, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.

I had ten minutes to make it to Angel’s place; luckily, he didn’t live too far away since I’d moved to this house. I put the siren on my dash and was grateful that the streets were fairly quiet so early in the morning.

Angel was waiting for me on his front step. He jogged to the car and hopped in. “Morning,” he said. “So where are we headed?”

“Angelus Rosedale Cemetery. Robinson said we’ve got a body.”

Angel gave me a wry look. “Isn’t that to be expected at a cemetery?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking this body wasn’t expected,” I replied dryly.

“So how did Frank react to yesterday’s events?” he asked.

I licked my lips as the image of Frank’s face flittered through my mind. “Not well.”

“What happened?”

I shrugged. “We fought about it; he left.”

“He left? You broke up?”

I was doing my best to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t want to think about Frank and the fight we’d had because I’d done my job. “He went home; we didn’t break up.” At least I didn’t think we had. I really hoped we hadn’t. The last thing Frank had said was he needed to go home and cool off. I had spent the entire night tossing and turning, fighting nightmares, and wishing he was there to hold me. Needless to say, I hadn’t slept well.

“Well, good. Why did he react so badly? I mean, I get it, you were shot, but you had a vest on and⁠—”

“Yeah, well, if you recall, so had he when he was shot. Hearing about it and what I did, he said I had a death wish, and we argued.” I gritted my teeth and squeezed the steering wheel. I couldn’t afford to break down right now. I had a job to do, and our boss was going to be on the scene. Which reminded me. “By the way, Robinson mentioned Chenevert is coming to the scene.”

“Why?”

“Robinson said he’s never been to a true HSS crime scene. I brought up Bella Jones, but he didn’t think that one counted. Felt like it was a pretty standard murder, not an actual HSS serial killer case.”

“But is this an actual HSS crime scene? Do we think it’s connected to Gamble?”

“Won’t know until we get there, but I’m guessing, since he’s coming, he’s got more details of what we’re walking into than we do.”

Angel nodded as I turned onto Washington Boulevard. Angelus Rosedale Cemetery was ahead on the right. I made the turn and followed the line of patrol vehicles to the scene. It looked as though the CSI team, Damien and Chenevert had all made it there before we did. A glance at my car’s clock told me only forty-five minutes had passed since the captain had called me.

We got out of the car and headed for the yellow police tape. I showed my badge and then ducked under the tape, heading for Chenevert. “Morning, sir.”

“Y’all made good time. I just got here myself.”

“What have we got?” Angel asked.

“It’s not pretty. And if I’m not mistaken, I think this is the same perp who killed Gamble,” Chenevert replied, nodding toward the group who were surrounding a grave that had a large stone cross with an ivy design carved on it.

I couldn’t see what they were looking at on the ground, but I assumed it was the body. “Was he waterboarded too?”

“No. First, this victim is a woman, and second, well… you’ll have to see it.”

“If the victim isn’t male, and they weren’t waterboarded, what makes you believe it’s the same perp?”

Chenevert pursed his lips. “I don’t want to bias you. Take a look at the scene and tell me what you think. I’ll share my thoughts after.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Angel and I moved toward the group around the body, and as I joined them, I noticed the distinct smell of balsam. It was the same as was on Gamble. That was tip number one it was the same perp. The second was the rope that bound the woman’s hands and feet. It looked like the same kind of rope that had been used to bind Gamble to the cross.

“Chenevert’s right. This is our guy,” I murmured.

“He’s certainly escalated,” Angel replied, staring at the woman’s posed body.

“Definite religious aspects to this one. Not as subtle as Gamble’s death.”

“Yeah,” Angel replied as Lindsey and Damien joined us, carrying their kits.

“I need everything you can tell me, Damien.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested.

Nodding, I turned to the patrol officers. “I want this scene blocked as much as possible from anyone coming into the cemetery. In fact, I want the cemetery entrance closed. Nobody in, nobody out until we clear the scene unless they’re LAPD. No comments to the press on this. Not even a whisper. Who was first on the scene?”

“That would be us, ma’am,” Officer Min-Ji Kim said, pointing to himself and his partner, Officer Julie Desmond.

I motioned for them to join me and Angel, and we stepped to the side so that the CSI team and Damien could have control of the death scene. I didn’t want to be in their way as they combed the area for evidence. “Who found the body, and where are they?”

Min-Ji looked down at his notepad. “Daniel Simmons. He’s over there, ma’am.” He nodded toward a mausoleum building about fifteen feet away. “Officer Banks is with him.”

Lindsey will be annoyed if she realizes Banks is here, I thought, but I kept it to myself. “How did he find the body?”

“He said he was out for a morning jog. He likes to run here because it’s peaceful, or so he said. It was just after four a.m. when he found the body, but he didn’t have his phone, so he ran back to his car to get it. We found him at the entrance, waiting for us.”

“And he led you to the scene?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Julie put in.

“Did he touch the body?” Angel asked.

“No, sir. He said it was pretty obvious they were dead. I’d have to agree.” Min-Ji blanched.

“Right. Okay, thanks,” I said, dismissing them. I glanced at Angel. “Let’s go talk to our witness.”

We headed for the dark-skinned man, who was folded in half, his hands on his waist. He stood up as we approached and looked as though he was trying not to be sick.

“Sir, are you alright?” I asked.

“No. How could I be after seeing… that?”

“Right. I understand how you must be feeling, but I need to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

“Did you recognize her?”

“No. I tried not to look too close. I… I’ve never seen a dead body… I just… I couldn’t.”

I held my hand up and nodded. “That’s fine. I understand you like to run here. Do you run here daily?”

“I have for the past couple of years, not sure I’ll be doing it anymore. Whoever did that to her… they’re sick.” He swallowed hard and looked like he was trying not to hurl.

“Do you ever see anyone else around here when you run?”

He thought about it for a minute. “Every so often, but not every day. Occasionally some of the homeless people hang around. The groundskeeper will sometimes be around by the time I leave, but I didn’t see anyone else today when I was running.”

“Okay, thank you. I don’t have anything else for you right now, but if you would make sure the patrol officers have your information before you leave, I’d appreciate it. Oh, and please don’t talk to the press.”

“Sure, yeah, I won’t do that. Can I go?”

“Yes, just take care of leaving that information, and then tell the officer at the entrance that Detective Kendrick has given you permission to leave. They are welcome to call me for verification.”

He nodded and took off toward Desmond and Kim.

“What do you think?”

“I think he’s telling the truth. He’s just the misfortunate soul who stumbled across her,” I said as we walked back to Damien and Lindsey.

“I agree.” Angel nodded. He looked at Lindsey and said, “Did she have any ID on her?”

“She did. It was in her pocket. Lily Ogata.”

“So what do you know, Damien?” I asked.

“My initial assessment is she was struck from behind a couple of times, bound, beheaded, and then her heart cut from her chest.”

“In this position?” I questioned.

“No, she was prone and then posed afterwards. You can see where by the blood splatter.” He pointed to a portion of the grave.

“Anything else?”

“The head has three contusions, one on the forehead and two on the back of the head. I’ll know more once I get her back to the lab. As I said before, my best guess would be she was hit from behind by the assailant and then fell and busted her head on the floor of wherever she was taken from and then probably hit again to keep her unconscious.”

“That would make sense,” Chenevert said, moving closer to us. “What do you think, Kendrick? Reyes?”

“I think your assessment was correct, same perp as Gamble’s killer,” I said.

“Agreed,” Angel added.

“So he’s escalated,” Chenevert said. “The question is why? And what did Gamble and this victim have in common?”

“Lily Ogata,” I murmured.

“Who is Lily Ogata?” Chenevert asked, looking confused.

“This victim, sir. Her name was Lily Ogata.”

“What do we know about her?”

“Nothing yet, sir. Angel and I will head to the precinct and get started working on Ms. Ogata’s profile and see if we can find any connections to Gamble.”

“Keep me updated. I’m going to talk to Myers about having Patrol canvass the area around the cemetery, see if anyone saw anything.”

“We will, sir. And that would be great,” Angel replied.

“Scene is yours, Lindsey,” I said.

With that, Angel and I headed back to the car. My head was swimming, and I really needed coffee. I glanced at him and asked, “Did you have time for breakfast or coffee before I picked you up?”

“No, you?”

“No, let’s swing through the coffee shop on the way in.”

I drove us to our favorite place and went through the drive-thru, ordering us both large coffees as well as a couple of breakfast sandwiches on croissants. We ate them as we finished our drive into work.

An hour later, I had a basic background on our victim. Lily Ogata was a kindergarten teacher; she’d been teaching for two years. She was unmarried and lived alone. From everything I’d learned so far, I couldn’t find any kind of connection to Gamble.

“Should we go see her parents?” Angel asked.

“Yeah, I think we need to before they find out from some other source.”

I put their address in my GPS, and we headed to Koreatown. As we pulled up to the condos on North Vermont Avenue, I parked on the street near their unit’s entrance, and we went in. At the elevator, I pushed the button and waited quietly next to Angel. Lily’s parents lived on the fifth floor, so I hit the button for their floor once we got on.

It felt as though the grim reaper was walking with us as we approached their door. I felt this cloak of darkness around us as I knocked on the door.

A moment later, a woman with long dark hair and brown eyes opened the door. She smiled, but it quickly faded as she realized she didn’t know us. “May I help you?” she asked, her tone cautious. She looked ready to slam the door in my face.

I held up my badge. “Mrs. Ogata? I’m Detective Kendrick; this is my partner, Detective Reyes. May we come in?”

She drew in a sharp breath and looked frightened. I couldn’t blame her. After a hesitant nod, she pulled the door open wider. “What’s going on?” she asked as she led us to the small living area.

“Is your husband home?” Angel asked.

“N-no… he’s at work. What’s this about?”

“Is there anyone who can be with you? A friend? It’s just we have some news, and I think you may need some support.”

“Oh, God.” She reached for the back of the chair. Her lip started to quiver, and her eyes began to tear up. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Ma’am, please, come sit. This isn’t easy for us to share.” I took her hand and drew her to the sofa to sit; then I sat in the chair she’d been holding on to and scooted it closer so I could keep holding her hand.

“No, no, no, no…” she murmured, her head shaking as if she already knew what I was about to tell her.

“I’m so sorry, but we found Lily deceased this morning at Angelus Rosedale Cemetery.”

“Oh, God, no, please… please no…” She began to gasp as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” I murmured as she fell apart, reaching for me. I leaned forward and held her as she sobbed.

“I don’t understand… I just… I just spoke to her last night… How did this happen?” she said between sobs.

“Someone took her life, ma’am. I can’t say any more at this time.”

She quietly sobbed some more, and then after a few moments, she said, “Oh my God, I have to tell Ben.” She looked completely and utterly devastated. “Lily was the light of his life. How do I tell him?”

“Would you like us to do that, ma’am?” I asked gently. “You could text him and tell him to come home; it’s an emergency.”

She sniffled and nodded. “Okay.” She found her phone and sent off the text. A moment later her phone dinged with a reply. “He’s on his way. He doesn’t work far away. It will only take him a few minutes.”

“Airin?” a man called as he came through the door.

“Mr. Ogata?” I asked, rising from the chair.

“What’s going on, Airin? Are you okay? Who are these people?”

“Oh, Ben, it’s Lily… she’s… she’s—” Mrs. Ogata’s voice broke, and she couldn’t continue.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Ogata, but we found your daughter deceased this morning.”

He rushed to his wife and gathered her in his arms as they comforted each other.

I felt as though I was intruding, so Angel and I stepped out of the living area and into the kitchen to give them a moment. I opened a cabinet, looking for glasses. I found the right one and then I got them each some cold water from the fridge door.

We headed back in, and I gave them each a glass. They murmured their thanks and sipped at the water.

Mr. Ogata looked at Angel. “How did this happen?”

“We don’t have much information at this moment, sir. We know she was murdered, but we don’t have a suspect at this time. Can you tell us a little about Lily? Did she have a boyfriend?”

“No. No our Lily didn’t date. She was too focused on teaching. She loved teaching.”

“Okay, did she have any recent fallings-out with any friends?”

Mr. Ogata shook his head. “No, everyone loved Lily. She was just the sweetest soul. An angel. Who would do this to her?”

“I don’t know, sir, but I promise you, we will do our best to find out.”

13

A WITNESS UNCOVERED

MARCY

Friday Afternoon

After leaving the Ogatas’ place, Angel and I grabbed some lunch. I texted Frank, but he ignored me. I hadn’t brought it up in the text, but I wondered if he still wanted me to go with him to LAX in the morning to pick up Timber. I really hoped he’d cool down by then. Heck, I’d hoped he’d cooled down by now. His not answering was really bugging me, and I was half tempted to call him and find out where his mind was at, but I was with Angel, and I wanted privacy for that kind of call. Instead I shoved my phone in my pocket and finished my fries. We’d opted for fast food again, Dino’s Burgers this time.

“Think Lindsey or Damien will have anything for us?” I asked, feeling weary. It was going on two in the afternoon now, and we’d been with the Ogatas for several hours, getting as much information on Lily as we could from them. They’d given us keys to her apartment, shown us picture albums of her and begged us to find who had taken their daughter from them.

“Maybe. We should check out Lily’s apartment first, then go check.”

He was right, we were already out, we had the keys, and it would be best to get it done now. “I’ll text Lindsey and tell her we have the keys and we’re going to do a cursory look.”

I pulled my phone out and shot off the text, then noticed I had two texts waiting for me. One was from Stephen asking if I wanted to meet for lunch, which I’d missed, so I texted back with an apology for missing him and suggested we do it next week, then looked at the second. I had hoped it was from Frank, but it wasn’t. Instead it was from my friend Katrina wanting to catch up. I smiled as I wrote her back and asked if she wanted to get together next week.

Just as I was about to put my phone away, it beeped with an incoming text. This time it was Lindsey answering me.

Hey, that’s good. Let me know if you find anything, and I’ll have a team check it out once you’re back and give me the key.

We finished eating and then drove over to Lily’s place on South Catalina Street. It was in the northern part of Koreatown. It was a nice apartment complex, with a Spanish stucco style to it. We found her apartment and used the key to get in. It was a very nice two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath loft apartment with a balcony.

“How did she afford this place on a teacher’s salary?” Angel commented.

“Good question. Maybe her parents helped?” I suggested.

We went through the apartment with gloves on so we wouldn’t leave prints around for the CSI team to find. I went through the pile of mail on her counter, but there was nothing off with any of it. No outstanding bills, no threatening letters. Her home was immaculate from what I could see. There weren’t even any dishes in the sink. The fridge was well stocked, so was the pantry. Her clothing was hung neatly in the closet and folded neatly in her dresser. There was a bookcase full of books, ranging from children’s books to women’s fiction. There were also numerous books on child psychology, raising children and self-help books. Her desk contained a stack of artwork that was obviously from her students.

“I’m not seeing anything here.”

“Me neither,” Angel replied, joining me in the living room. He picked up a photo of Lily laughing with a group of women. “She looks like she was so full of life. Hard to believe someone killed her.”

“I just don’t get it. I mean, Gamble I could see… he wasn’t a good guy. A drug dealer. I could maybe see some zealot going after him for that, but this? Her? It doesn’t make sense. Especially given how she was left. Like she needed to repent her sins or something. What sins though? Judging by the clothing in her closet, she was a conservative dresser, she was a teacher, she didn’t date… I just don’t understand why this killer went after her.”

“I don’t either.” Angel rubbed his chin as he looked around. “Maybe talk to the neighbors? See if they know anything?”

By three thirty all we’d heard from her neighbors was how sweet Lily was and how much everyone liked her, and we were no closer to discovering who could have killed her. It was very frustrating. We headed back to the precinct to see if Lindsey and Damien had anything new for us. I was hopeful because at the moment I was at a loss.

“Hey, Linds, you got anything for us?” I asked as we joined her in the lab.

“Actually, yes. You can thank Damien for finding it though. Come take a look.” She waved us over to a microscope and directed me to look in it.

I pressed my eye to the eyepiece and asked, “What is this?” All I could see was some sort of material.

Lindsey turned the objective lens to magnify the specimen. “We think it’s fibers from a rug.”

Stepping back, I looked at her. “A rug? Where were they?”

“Stuck to her clothing and in one of the head wounds. We’re thinking that she was wrapped in it prior to her death.”

“Okay, that’s interesting. Not sure how it helps at the moment, but it’s good to know,” I replied.

“Anything special about the rug?” Angel asked.

“The fiber is olefin, which is a synthetic fiber and generally used in moderately priced rugs. It was a blue, cream, and beige rug, judging by the colors of the fibers we found.”

“So did anyone on your team come across a blue, cream, and beige rug while searching the area?” Angel asked.

“Unfortunately, no. Sorry.” Lindsey grimaced. “Anyway, I can tell you that she wasn’t robbed. She had her ID and some cash as well as her credit cards in a small billfold that fit in her phone case. She had her phone on her too, so she never had a chance to call for help.”

“So not a robbery, which we suspected anyway, but it’s good to confirm that,” I replied.

“Anything else?” Angel asked.

“Not right now, but I think Damien was just about finished with his autopsy, if you want to check in with him.”

“Okay, thanks,” I replied, and then Angel and I went over to the morgue.

Damien was pulling the sheet up over the body as we entered. “Hey, I was just about to call for you. Good timing,” he offered when he saw us.

“What have you got?”

“Okay, so I think the time of death was between ten and eleven p.m. last night. I think initially she was hit from behind with rowan wood, pretty sure it was a tree branch, probably about three inches in diameter from the first wound on the head. Let me show you.” He turned the head and pointed out the hit, which broke the skin, but wasn’t as obvious as the second blow. “This hit”—he showed the deeper wound that actually left a dent in the skull—“is the one that killed her. You see how the first blow is angled? Like the killer swung the branch like a baseball bat? Well, this second one was more like a club, an overhead swing. I think she was prone when it was delivered.”

“So she wasn’t alive when she was beheaded, despite all the blood?” Angel asked.

“Right, I don’t believe so, but I think the beheading came immediately after the killing blow. And then the heart was cut from the chest.”

“I smelled that balsam at the scene; did you find any trace of it on the body?”

Damien nodded. “I was getting to that. So both where the neck was severed and where the heart was cut out held traces of baptismal water. As well as the head wounds on the back of the head. The one on the forehead had miniscule bits of concrete embedded in it, so I’d say the first blow knocked her to the ground, which was concrete, where she hit her forehead.”

“Concrete, so definitely outside,” I said. “A street or sidewalk maybe?”

“That would be my guess.” Damien shrugged.

“Was that everything?”

“I can tell you she ate a meal prior to her death. Beef that was marinated in soy sauce, and some sort of liquid that we’re still analyzing. Once I know more, I’ll let you know.”

“Soy sauce? Maybe she ate somewhere in Koreatown?” Angel suggested.

“Let’s look into her timeline and see if we can find that restaurant. Maybe we can discover where she was taken from,” I added.

We thanked Damien and headed to the HSS detective pool. As we reached the door, I said, “Let’s brief Chenevert on what we have so far. Plus I want to see if patrol found anything when they canvassed the area near the cemetery.”

I knocked on Chenevert’s office door and was startled when he opened it. “Kendrick, Reyes, I was just going to come find you. Officers Garcia and Braun found a witness, well, a possible witness.”

“Possible?”

“Turns out there was a homeless woman sleeping in the cemetery last night. She saw a man dragging a rug from a van toward a grave. She thought it was odd, but then people do weird things all the time at their loved ones’ graves, so she didn’t think anything about it. Braun took her to a shelter so she could get cleaned up and have a nice meal. He made sure they had a room for her.”

“Did he get a name?” I asked.

“Bertha Franklin.”

“We’ll go see her.” This was a turn of events I hadn’t expected. I explained what we had so far and also what our next steps were after going to see this woman.

“Okay, see if she can give you a description of the man or even the vehicle he was using.”

“Will do,” I said as Angel and I left.

Half an hour later we pulled up at the shelter and went in to speak to the director. “Hi, I’m Detective Kendrick; this is Detective Reyes.” I held my hand out to the woman.

“Michelle White, pleasure. What can I do for—” She was cut off by an ear-piercing scream coming from above us. “I need to go see what that is.” She turned and started for the door.

“We’ll come with you,” I said, concerned for whoever was still screaming.

We followed her up the stairs and ran down the hall toward the woman screaming bloody murder. Someone else was shouting, and we could hear things smashing. When we reached the room where the altercation was taking place, I noticed it was some sort of rec room.

“Toni!” Michelle yelled.

A middle-aged man with stringy gray hair was beating on a young woman. I ran toward them and shoved the man off the woman. He raised his fist and swung at me, catching me in my left eye before Angel tackled him. I winced and touched my eye. I was going to have a shiner; wouldn’t that make Frank happy? I shook my head at my dark thoughts. I hadn’t even heard from him since our argument.

I turned to the young woman and squatted down next to her as Angel cuffed the guy. “Miss, are you alright?” I could see she was battered and beginning to swell. She’d be bruised worse than I was. As I studied her, I realized she couldn’t have been more than seventeen.

She began to sob as I gathered her in my arms and helped her to her feet. “He… he tried to…”

I could see her shirt was torn, and her pants were open. The man had attempted to assault her, and she’d fought back, only to get beaten. “You don’t have to worry; he’s going to jail. What’s your name?”

“Antonia, everyone calls me Toni,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

Originally, I’d thought Michelle was yelling at the man, but apparently, she’d been calling out to the victim. I rubbed her back as I murmured, “Do you know that man?”

“Torch. He owns me,” she whispered as Angel carted the cuffed man out of the room.

I set her on the sofa and took her hands in mine. “Nobody owns you, Toni. We don’t allow slavery in this country, and you won’t have to worry about him ever again,” I assured her, praying I was right, but with the state of our justice department and the fact courts just kept putting dangerous criminals back on the street, I wasn’t positive about that.

Michelle came forward and wrapped Toni in her arms. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

I met Michelle’s gaze over Toni’s head. “If you need any help, let me know.”

Michelle nodded. “I’m sorry, Detective, but whatever you were wanting today, it’s going to have to wait. I need to help Toni.”

“Actually, we’re here to speak with the woman Officer Braun brought to you this morning? Bertha Franklin?”

“Oh, yes. She’s on the third floor, room twelve.”

“Thank you. Toni, if you ever need anything, you’re welcome to call me. My name is Marcy Kendrick, and I’m a detective with the LAPD. Here’s my card.” I handed it to her.

She sniffled and took it. “Thank you for… for saving me.”

I gave her a nod and then left her and Michelle to figure out what they needed to do. Instead of going upstairs to find Bertha, I went down to see what was going on with Angel. As I reached the bottom step, I saw him, Min-Ji Kim, and Julie Desmond at the entrance with the man who had attacked Toni.

“This wasn’t just an assault and battery,” I said, walking up. “It was attempted rape.”

“We’ll make sure all the charges are listed,” Min-Ji replied as he jerked the cuffed man toward the door.

I gave him a nod and turned to Angel. “Bertha’s on the third floor.”

“How’s your eye?” he asked.

I touched it and winced. “It hurts, but I’ll live.”

We headed up to Bertha’s room and knocked. The door cracked open slightly, and an eye appeared in the crack. “Yeah?”

“Bertha Franklin? I’m Detective Kendrick; this is Detective Reyes; we wanted to speak to you about what you saw at the cemetery last night.”

“It’s safe?”

Nodding, I said, “Yes, the violent man has been taken away. You don’t have to worry.”

She opened the door more and let us in. “Whatcha want to know?” She was a black woman in her mid to late sixties. Her gaze was cautious and slightly defensive.

“Officer Braun said you saw a man with a rug in the cemetery. Can you tell me more about him?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Not much. Didn’t see nothin’ bad or nothin’. Just him draggin’ that rug to a grave; people done worse. He desecrate somethin’?”

I hesitated telling her, but then if she watched the news, there would be the mention of Lily’s death. “We believe he killed a woman. Is there anything you remember about him? Anything distinctive?”

She tugged on her braids and twisted her lips up in a moue as her nose crinkled. “Was dark, you know? He drove a white van. Not sure if there was anythin’ on the side.”

“What kind of white van? Like a passenger van, did it have seating and windows?”

“Nah, like one of them vans we warned kiddos about back in the day, you know those work vans with no windows on the side, opens from the back.”

“So a service van.”

“Yeah, that what they call it?”

I nodded. “Did you notice the license plate?”

“I wasn’t lookin’, sorry. Who’d he kill?”

“A teacher.”

“Too bad. Wish I could help more.”

“You’ve done fine, Bertha, you told us it was a man, and he drives a white service van. All of that helps. If you can think of anything else, will you give me a call? I’m sure Ms. White will let you use the office phone.” I handed her my card.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Thanks, Bertha.”

Angel and I returned to the precinct. We spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to track all the white service vans in the greater LA area. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

At the end of the shift, I headed out to my car and called Frank.

“Hey. I’m glad you called,” he said, sounding contrite.

“You still mad at me?” I asked.

“No. I wasn’t really mad at you, more at the situation. I was imagining what would have happened if the guy who shot you had armor-piercing bullets and how I could have lost you, and I just couldn’t deal with it.”

I’d pretty much figured that out myself. “I get that, but I needed you, and you bailed on me.”

“I’m sorry, TT, I wasn’t thinking about what you needed. I was too stuck in my own fears and reactions. I had a session with my therapist this morning. He called it a trauma-related response. He gave me some ways to cope, and hopefully, next time, which I pray won’t be for a very long time, I’ll react better.”

I sighed. “It’s fine. I mean, I dealt with it, but I missed you, and I wanted your arms around me.”

“I missed you too. Thought maybe if you were okay with it, I’d come stay at your place tonight, and we can pick up Timber from LAX tomorrow?”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Good, I’ll bring food, and I swear I’ll make this up to you.”

“Um… one thing before you come over…”

“What is it?”

“I may or may not have a black eye.”

14

A WANNABE VAN HELSING

MARCY

Saturday Morning

My phone alarm blared, and Frank grumbled as he rolled over to shut it off. My face hurt from where I’d been punched yesterday, and I gently pressed on it. It wasn’t too swollen, but it was really tender. Frank had been very caring and insisted on holding an ice pack on it for me last night. He’d come bearing gifts of food, flowers and first aid. It had been nice.

We’d gone to bed after watching the news, which had been annoying because the press had gotten wind of Lily’s death and had found out about the religious angle, which led them to calling the murderer the Templar. I turned the TV off in frustration. We had to be up early to get to the airport to pick up Timber anyway.

After getting dressed, we headed out, picking up coffee and a couple of pastries on the way. We arrived just after eight and headed for the pickup area. Seeing as Timber was a live animal, they had a special area to pick him up from.

It didn’t take us long to get Timber and his crate into Frank’s truck. Though we took Timber out of the crate for the car ride and brought him into the cab. The flight must have been trying because he was wiped out. He sat in my lap, curled up and sleeping. Frank reached over and ran his fingers through the pup’s thick coat with a smile.

We were halfway home when my phone began to play “When the Saints Come Marching In.” I scrambled to grab it from my purse. “Sir?”

“Kendrick, sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but we’ve gotten another letter, and it’s addressed to you again. Figured you’d want to come in and see it sooner rather than later, especially since this could be our killer.”

I looked from Frank to Timber and then back to Frank. “I do. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’ll get Reyes in too.”

“Thank you, sir.” I hung up and looked at Frank. “Can you drop me at the precinct?”

“Another body?”

“No, possible letter from the killer.”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll drop you off, then get Timber home.”

I hesitated. “Home to my house or yours?”

“I was thinking yours, but if you don’t want⁠—”

“I do want,” I interrupted him. “I just didn’t know if you were planning to go back to Santa Monica or not.”

“I figured we’d stay at yours for the weekend. Head to my place Monday morning.”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

He grabbed my hand and held it. “Me too.” He pulled into the station and parked. “Try not to be gone all day. Call me if you need a ride.”

“I will. Love you,” I said, leaning over and kissing him.

Frank kissed me back, picked up Timber from my lap and cuddled him as I got out. “Love you too; be safe.”

I nodded and watched as Frank moved Timber from his lap to the seat I’d just vacated. He ran the seatbelt through the harness Timber was wearing and buckled him in. I waved as he pulled out of the parking lot, then walked into the station. I found Lieutenant Chenevert in his office.

“Did you roll around on a fur carpet before coming in?” he asked with a grin.

Looking down, I noticed my blue T-shirt was covered in dog fur. “Something like that. Frank bought a puppy, we went to pick him up this morning, and he was sitting in my lap. Didn’t realize he’d shed all over me.” I brushed at the hair on my shirt, trying to get it off.

“Sorry about dragging you away. What kind of dog is he?”

I smiled. “Malamute. Wanna see a picture?”

“Sure.”

I pulled my phone out and scrolled until I found one of my favorite pictures of Frank with Timber at the sled-dog camp. “This was from our trip. That’s when Frank fell in love with this little guy.” I handed my phone to him.

“He’s adorable.” He handed back my phone. “Reyes should be here anytime, but do you want to go ahead and look at the letter?”

“Yeah, do you have some gloves?”

He handed me a pair of latex gloves, and then once I had them on, he picked the letter up by the edges and handed it to me. Again there was no return address, but it was postmarked Santa Monica. I opened the envelope and pulled the letter out.

You didn’t listen to the previous letter I sent you. I saw the news, and from what the press are saying, you’re wrong. These aren’t religious killings. Not in that sense. The person doing this is hunting vampires. They’re using proven medieval methods for dispatching them. It’s almost a textbook study. Holy water is often used to destroy these creatures, as is decapitation. If you’d like to know more, you can gain more knowledge at Mason Gaunt’s Occult and Oddities Bookshop. There are numerous books, illustrations, and writings on the various methods of killing vampires, as well as how to hunt them.

I frowned and showed the letter to Chenevert. “Vampires?”

Chenevert read over the letter, then said, “Could this be his way of trying to explain why he’s killing these people?”

“It could be interpreted that way, definitely. Like he thinks he’s some Van Helsing wannabe.”

“Who’s a Van Helsing wannabe?” Angel asked, standing in the open doorway.

Chenevert passed him a pair of gloves and then handed him the note to read. “Do we think this letter writer is Mason Gaunt? Why direct us to this specific store?”

“That’s possible, or maybe someone who works there. There are other occult bookstores, so I’m not sure why they would direct us to this particular one for no reason. Maybe they have a specific book they bought there, and they’re using it to do these killings?”

Angel looked up from the letter. “Sounds almost like they’re bragging. They want to share why they’re doing this.”

“It does kind of read that way.” I frowned. “It could still just be someone trying to be helpful. My biggest question is, how does he know that Lily was killed using some medieval method? We haven’t released anything about her death to the press other than she was found at the cemetery in front of a cross.”

“Late news gave more details. Not sure who leaked it, but they know about the holy water and that she was beheaded,” Angel shared.

“Mother of pearl. How and why would they discuss that? Her parents didn’t need everyone on earth to know that their daughter’s body was mutilated in such a way,” I replied.

Chenevert shook his head. “Came from our own press secretary, who has been reprimanded. I wanted him fired, but Warren wants to give him another chance because apparently this Bradley Sheppard appeals to the masses.” He rolled his eyes.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Warren was our police chief and could be a pain in the ass to deal with. “Somehow, I feel like this is my fault. If I hadn’t complained about doing the press circuit, we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”

“Not your fault, Kendrick. The guy should have known better, but he was going for clicks, and apparently this kind of horror sells well. I believe he was formerly with a tabloid and was going for the sensational headline.”

“Great, that’s just what we need. What part of not trying to scare the public does this man not understand?”

“Warren assured me that it wouldn’t happen again,” Chenevert replied.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Let’s get this letter to the lab, see if they can get any prints this time. And I want to run a background check on Mason Gaunt, as well as anyone working at that bookstore. If any of them are our killer, maybe we can find something to go after them with.”

“Good idea, but don’t spend your whole weekend here. Do the background checks and then get out of here. If you want to question Mason Gaunt or anyone else, save it for Monday. If he is our guy, I don’t think he’s going anywhere. And if he believes he’s hunting vampires, I think he’ll have space between Lily Ogata and whoever’s next on his hit list.”

“If he has a hit list and they aren’t just random victims,” I replied, playing devil’s advocate.

“True, but you deserve time off, and unless there’s another murder, there isn’t much you can do right now.”

“Okay, we’ll do the background and social media checks, and if nothing worrying pops, we’ll head home,” I said.

“I’ll take this down to the lab,” Angel said, the letter in hand.

We separated near the elevators, with him pushing the button for it while I returned to my desk. I sat down and put Mason Gaunt’s name into the system to see if anything came up. By the time Angel rejoined me, the only thing I’d discovered was a couple of overdue parking tickets and a citation for littering.

“Well, that was a bust. Let’s try social media,” I said.

“I’ll take his Facebook and Insta.”

“I’ll look at LinkedIn and Twitter, I mean X.”

“Think he might have a TikTok?” Angel tossed over his shoulder.

“Maybe? I’ll run his business name too, see if there’s a website and get a list of employees as well.”

Two hours later, all we really knew was that Mason Gaunt really liked his horror stuff. He posted about monsters, vampires, werewolves, sirens, witches… just about anything spooky. It didn’t put us any closer to finding out if he was our perp. Though he seemed to know quite a bit about vampires. We’d also discovered that he had three employees, all women, so we could pretty much rule them out because of what Bertha had told us.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. “I’m not seeing anything that would tie him to the murders directly, but I still want to question him.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Guess we’ll do that first thing Monday. Maybe go see him, see if he’ll be willing to come in for questioning?”

Angel shut down his computer and then leaned back and stretched in his chair. “I didn’t see your car in the lot; need a ride home?”

“Yeah, Frank dropped me off. We picked up Timber this morning and were headed back home when Chenevert called.”

“You’ve got him? I’d love to meet this little guy.”

“You take me home, and you can.” I grinned.

“Let’s go, then.”

15

MUSTARD, MAYO, AND A MALAMUTE

MARCY

Saturday Afternoon

“Frank?” I called as I opened the front door. Suddenly nails scraped across the floorboards, and little excited yips reverberated around the room just before I was assaulted by a happy puppy jumping at my legs. I was really glad to be wearing jeans; otherwise my legs would have been shredded by his claws. “You need those trimmed, little guy,” I said with a laugh.

Angel dropped down and started petting Timber, who was turning in circles, panting, and yipping. “Aren’t you a cutie.”

“Frank?” I called again, wondering where he was.

He emerged from the exercise room, his phone to his ear. He waved and then went into the bedroom and closed the door without speaking to me or Angel. I wondered what was going on, but figured Frank would share when he was ready.

“How about you call Callie, see if she wants to come over after work, and I’ll see if Stephen and Yaz are free, and we can grill out. I think there’s a game tonight, right?” I wasn’t a big football fan, but the guys were.

“Yeah, LA Chargers against the Cleveland Browns. Starts at four,” Angel replied, still playing with Timber.

I pulled my phone out and texted Stephen about what was going on, and he immediately texted back that he and Yaz would bring sides. I told him he didn’t have to, but I was grateful when he insisted. I had already thawed some hamburger, having planned to have them for dinner anyway, so I also got some hot dogs out.

Washing my hands, I started prepping the hamburger, adding egg and cheese as well as salt and pepper to the mix, then made a bunch of patties. “Callie coming?” I called from the kitchen.

Angel walked in with Timber dancing around his feet. “Yeah, she won’t be here until six though.”

“We’ll save her some food.” I smiled.

About ten minutes later, I heard Frank in the hall and apparently so did Timber because he took off, racing out of the kitchen, yipping loudly. Frank came in carrying the puppy, who squirmed in his arms a few seconds after that. I smiled.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Hey, Angel.”

“Hey, Frank, good to see you.”

“I invited him and Callie, Stephen and Yaz to watch the Chargers game and dinner.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.”

My brow furrowed. He might be saying the words, but he didn’t seem very happy about it. I turned to look at him, but he’d bent over to put Timber on the floor.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. Just work.” Frank smiled, but it seemed strained. He glanced at the counter where I was making the hamburger patties. “Looks good; we got everything for them?”

I nodded. “Mustard, mayo, pickles, cheese, all in the fridge.”

“Need me to go get some sides?” he asked.

“Nope, Stephen offered to bring them.”

“Great.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Angel, want one?”

“Sure.” Angel took the offered glass bottle.

“Let’s take these outside, and you can see what we’ve put in for Timber.”

They left the kitchen with the puppy racing along with them as they went through the patio door.

As I was adding the hot dogs to the meat tray to go out to the grill, the front door opened.

“Hey, sis,” Stephen said, coming in. He was carrying a couple of reusable totes and set them on the kitchen table.

Yazmine came in behind him, a pie in her hand. “Hey, Marcy, thanks so much for inviting us. I brought a pie.” She offered it to me with a wide smile.

“Looks great.” I took the pie and hugged her. “Also looks like you brought the entire grocery store.” I laughed.

“Weren’t sure what all everyone would want, so I grabbed some brats, extra buns, mac and cheese, pasta salad, and potato salad. Also some chips and dip, and I stopped at Wild Wings and got a large order of garlic parmesan wings.” Stephen grinned.

“Did you think we were feeding an army?”

Stephen shrugged and patted his stomach. “You know I can put it away, especially watching a game.”

I rolled my eyes. “The guys are outside, wanna take the meat out to Frank, and Yaz can help me get the sides ready?”

“Sure.” Stephen took the tray, grabbed the pack of brats, and went outside.

“Everything is in these closable containers, so we won’t have to worry about bugs.” Yazmine showed me the containers. “We got paper plates and plasticware too so you wouldn’t have to clean up such a mess later.”

It was sweet of her to think of that. “You’re my favorite person right now.” I grinned.

Yaz laughed.

We carried the sides outside, along with the buns and condiments, then went back in for beers.

An hour later we were seated on the patio furniture, plates in hand as we watched the game. Timber had been running around the yard, playing with the toys we’d gotten him, racing through the small heavy plastic tunnels we’d set up for him to play in, and bouncing around everywhere, but he’d been quiet for a little while now, and I assumed he’d fallen asleep after so much activity.

I finished eating and decided I should probably pack all the leftovers up and take them to the kitchen, but when I stood up and started toward the table, I stopped in shock. Timber was seated on the table, his face in the mac and cheese container. The worst part was he must have been chewing on the mayo and mustard containers, because his fur was covered with the condiments.

“Um, Frank?” I said, staring at the puppy, who seemed so pleased with himself.

Everyone turned to see what had me staring, and they all burst into laughter.

Frank got up and came to help me. He lifted Timber up, seeing how messy he was. “How did we miss him getting into all this?” He shook his head, grinning.

“My guess would be the game.” I laughed. “At least we’re outside.”

“Let me help clean this up,” Yaz said, coming over to help with the food. “Looks like he only got into a few things.”

“Thank goodness we put the lids back on, and the meat is covered. Little guy might have gorged himself.”

Just then the back gate opened, and Callie came in with a wave. She reached us and stopped to stare at the mess and the puppy. “What happened?”

“I think we all forgot about the puppy while we were watching the game,” Angel said, greeting her with a kiss.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t get in everything, just the mustard, mayo, and mac and cheese, which he managed to get the lid off of. Plenty of other things left,” I offered.

“I’m gonna give this little guy a bath,” Frank said, carrying Timber further into the backyard.

“I’ll get the baby pool and hose,” I replied.

“Do you have shampoo for him?” Callie asked, following me. Trust the hairstylist to ask that.

“Yep, in the kitchen under the sink.”

“I’ll get it for you and a couple of towels. Any preference?”

“Any of them are fine.”

By the time we’d finished getting Timber cleaned, nearly all of us were soaking wet and laughing, but that pretty much ended the evening for us, as nobody wanted to sit around in wet clothes. While we’d been dealing with Timber, Callie had eaten and then packed up all the food for us, brought it all in the house and put it away with Yazmine’s help, then both couples had taken off, leaving me, Frank, and Timber on our own for the rest of the night.

I rolled over and came face to fur with Timber’s belly. Sitting up, I noticed he was lying on his side between my and Frank’s faces, his butt toward the headboard and his front feet stretched out between us. Frank was still snoring, so I rubbed Timber’s belly and woke him, then took him out to the backyard so he could do his business. I put the coffee on while I made him a bowl of food.

By the time the coffee had brewed, Frank was awake and came into the kitchen to join me. “Morning,” he said, sounding grumpy.

“Did you not sleep well?” I said, handing him a cup.

“Timber wouldn’t settle down until I let him in the bed.”

“I noticed. Woke up to a mouthful of dog fur.” I smiled over the edge of my mug.

“Sorry. I’ll figure something out for next time.”

“It’s okay, he had a big day. His first plane ride, tried a condiment fur mask, had a bath…” I started laughing.

Frank’s lips twitched. “Yeah, a little more activity than I’d originally planned for day one.” He gulped his coffee and then set the mug in the sink. “Unfortunately, I can’t stay. Have to head back to Santa Monica.”

“Wait, why?” I asked. This wasn’t what we’d talked about. He was supposed to stay till Monday.

“That was the captain on the phone yesterday when you got home. I have to cover for Mercer. Ten-to-seven shift. Figured I’d take Timber over to Mom’s so you won’t have to deal with him.”

“He’s not a problem, but if you’re not coming back tonight, then I get it.”

“Yeah, probably not tonight. Unless you wanna come with me and stay at my place?”

I sighed. “Better not. We’re in the middle of this case⁠—”

“It’s fine. I’m gonna grab a shower.”

As he left the kitchen, I wondered if it actually was fine. He seemed off, we seemed off, even with the puppy in the picture now. I wondered if he was still having issues about being back at work, or if something else was bothering him. And if his moodiness was temporary or if it was going to be the crack in our relationship that splintered us.

16

MEETING MASON GAUNT

ANGEL

Monday Morning

“You ready to go?” I asked Marcy when I got to the precinct.

She was sitting at her desk, staring at her phone with a frown. She looked up, confusion on her face for a moment before it cleared, and she nodded, putting her phone in her pocket. “Yeah, you wanna drive?”

“Sure, I can. You know, if you want, we can swing by SMPD, catch lunch with Frank after we visit this guy.”

“We’ll see.” She grabbed her purse and stood up, then headed to the door.

She seemed irritated, but I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t want to piss her off more, so I left it alone and followed her out to my SUV. I hit the button to unlock it before we reached it, and she got in, buckling herself in before I even got in my seat. She was staring out the window, quiet, and I knew there was something really bugging her.

The drive into Santa Monica, even though it wasn’t that long a drive, felt like it lasted hours. Marcy didn’t say a word, just stared out the passenger window. Eventually I turned the radio on low just to have something to break up the silence. It seemed as though she didn’t even notice because she didn’t even turn her head from the window.

I parked in the parking lot of the Occult and Oddities Bookshop and turned off the car. “Marcy?” I said when she didn’t move.

“Hmmm?”

“We’re here.”

Finally she looked around, nodded, and then got out.

It was weird seeing her like this. The last time I’d seen this kind of thing from her had been right after the circle of justice case, when Frank had basically ghosted her. I wondered if he was doing that again, but then I’d seen him at her place Saturday, and though he’d been a little moody when I first got there, he’d seemed in a good mood by the time Callie and I’d left for the night. Maybe they’d had a fight over something?

I sighed and got out of the car; now wasn’t the time to be fixated on what was going on with her love life. We had a potential suspect to interview, and I didn’t need to be distracted.

We walked in and found two people unboxing books near the front of the store. One was a woman in her mid-thirties; the other was an older man with white hair and brown eyes. He was thin, lean and kind of creepy, honestly.

“Mason Gaunt?” I asked.

“Who wants to know?” he said, sounding like a snooty college professor who thought all his students were the epitome of stupidity.

Marcy and I both held up our badges. “Detective Reyes, and my partner Detective Kendrick.”

His eyes flickered with interest at Marcy’s name, but it quickly disappeared. “You got my letters, then. Are you here to learn?”

I arched a brow at him. “We’ve got some questions for you, yes. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

He gave me a look of disdain, turned to his colleague, and said, “See that these are put on display exactly as I showed you. I won’t be long.” He turned back to us. “This way.”

He led us through the store to a back room that held shelves of stock. Everything from books to tarot cards to crystals and dream catchers. Marcy and I paused next to a shelf that held vials filled with red liquid. The tags on them said they were blood.

“It’s fake,” he said drolly. “For our vampire enthusiasts.”

“Right. You wrote us letters about a couple of murders.”

“I did. You’re dealing with a hunter.”

“And you know this how?” Marcy asked.

He sighed as though we were wasting his time. “I read the details in the newspaper. Tied to a cross and drowned in holy water? Decapitated on holy ground, heart removed, also traces of holy water used? Those methods point to someone who is killing those they believe to be vampires.”

I was aware the news had said Lily had been beheaded, but couldn’t recall if the news had actually said her heart had been removed. I glanced at Marcy to see what she was thinking, but I couldn’t get a read on her. “So we’re looking for someone who thinks they’re what, Van Helsing?”

“Perhaps. He’s the fictional leading expert on killing vampires. However, there are others who predate Van Helsing. Such as the Croatians and the Slovenians, whose villages each had a vampire hunter they called kresniks. It was said their spirits could turn into an animal to fight the vampire. Many of the ideas and tools used by the kresniks, such as stakes, crucifixes, holy water, holy oils, ropes, and guns, were borrowed by Bram Stoker for his Dracula novel.”

“So you’re saying kresniks actually hunted or still hunt vampires?” I asked.

“I’m saying it is legend and predates Stoker. These are stories passed down through the generations. I cannot say if they’re still practicing such things. If they are, it’s not widely publicized. If it were, we’d be seeing more deaths, would we not?”

“I thought vampires supposedly turned to dust when killed. Wouldn’t the fact these bodies are just that, dead bodies, prove to this hunter they are just killing people?” Marcy said, narrowing her eyes at the man.

“There are examples through history that are incorrect. This isn’t a movie set, Detective. Things were embellished by Stoker, and that could be one of those things. Vampires also do not sparkle, no matter how popular modern fiction portrays them.”

“You know quite a bit about all of this.”

“I do run an occult bookstore. I am probably as close to an expert on this as you’re going to get.” He said it as though he was stating the obvious. “Was there anything else? Because I do have a bookstore to see to.”

“Speaking of your bookstore, what topics do you carry here?” I questioned.

“We range from the basics, witchcraft to vampires to werewolves to the more obscure things like the Jersey Devil, wendigos, and even aliens. I’m not an expert on all things supernatural and occult, but I have a good knowledge of quite a number of things.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Do you have any customers who might stand out who could be doing these killings?” I was reserving judgment on whether he was our killer.

“Vampires may not be quite as prevalent as they were during the years those sparkling vampires were everywhere; however, they’re still extremely popular. I couldn’t even begin to narrow it down. I can say that none of my customers seem the type to do more than playact. What do the children call it these days? Cosplay? Either way, I can tell you from my conversations with them, none of them actually believe vampires are real.”

“Any who might be psychotic enough to murder people and make it look as though they are killing vampires?” Marcy sounded snarky, almost like herself, but not quite.

“None who come to mind, Detective Kendrick.”

“Very well, can you tell us where you were at the time of each of these murders?” Marcy asked.

“Home. I live alone, so no, there was no one who could verify that I was there, but I assure you that is exactly where I was. I leave here at seven, go immediately home, fix dinner and watch the late night news, then go to bed. That is my routine every evening.”

He could say whatever he wanted; there was no way to prove otherwise, at least not right now. I decided to ask something else to keep him talking, maybe make him give something away. “Can you recommend any books on vampire hunting that our killer might be using as a guide?”

“There is the literal How to Kill a Vampire book by Liisa Ladoucer. I do carry it here.” He started walking toward a shelf full of books and pulled out a black and red book, then handed it to me. “It’s only $9.99.”

I pulled out my wallet. “I’ll take it.”

“You’re not really serious, are you?” Marcy asked in a hushed tone. “It’s nothing but fiction.”

“I know, it even says it covers folklore, fiction, and film, so I’m not expecting a step-by-step guide with this, but maybe it’ll give us some insight into our killer and what they’re thinking.”

“I guess it’s worth a shot.”

We followed Mason to the counter, and I made my purchase. “Good luck catching your hunter, Detectives.”

As we walked out, Marcy said, “Is it just me, or did that guy give you the creeps?”

“He was a bit of an arrogant asshole, and he does deal in dark things, but the creeps? Nah.” There was no way I was going to admit the guy was creepy.

“I think he might be playing us,” Marcy continued. “He knew about things I don’t think were shared in the news. How did he know?”

“We’ll have to check the news and see exactly what was said, but it’s still not enough to arrest him on anything. Maybe we missed something in the backgrounds of the victims. Let’s see if they have any ties to Gaunt’s bookshop,” I suggested as I put on my seat belt.

“Sounds like a plan. Back to the precinct, then.”

“No lunch with Frank before we head back?”

“I’m not hungry.”

That was a first. Marcy turning down lunch was almost unheard of. I wondered if she really wasn’t hungry or if there was something going on between her and Frank again and she just didn’t want to tell me. If she didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push her. “Okay.”

I pulled out of the bookshop’s parking lot and headed back to LA.

17

TEMPLAR MURDERS SUSPECT

MARCY

Tuesday

Ghosted. That was how I was feeling as I drove into work this morning. Frank hadn’t messaged or called me since Sunday morning. I didn’t know if it was something I did or if it really was work, but either way I didn’t like it, and it put me in a seriously bad mood. I parked and walked over to the beignet truck for a coffee and a sugary treat to help boost my mood.

“Is it true?” the woman in the truck asked as she handed me my coffee.

I looked up at her. “Is what true?”

She leaned on the stainless-steel counter. “What they’re saying on the news. That the Templar says they’re hunting vampires. They can’t be serious, right?”

I sucked in a breath, and my finger clenched around my cup, not hard enough to bust it, but it was a close call. Templar was what they’d named this killer, but how they’d heard about the vampire angle was troubling to me. “I’m not sure where they got their information. I will say that the victims were not vampires.”

“Yeah, I thought that was pretty hokey. Seems they’ll say anything these days to garner views.” She nodded and then handed me the box of beignets. “You have a good day, Detective.”

“Thanks, you too.”

I marched into the precinct, ready to rip off someone’s head. I set the box and coffee on my desk and continued my angry march down to Chenevert’s office. I rapped on the door and waited. He didn’t answer, and I wondered if he was even in there. Putting my ear to the door, I tried to listen to see if I could hear him inside, but it was quiet.

“Kendrick, did you need something?”

I spun to see Chenevert striding down the hall. “Someone’s leaking shit to the press.”

“The new PR guy has struck again. I just came from another meeting with Warren.”

“What the actual hell is going on with this guy? He’s worse than having a mole in the department. He’s giving shit away that he has no business talking about. How did he even know about the letter?”

“That was my question as well, and I’ve told Warren if he doesn’t get this guy to stop, we won’t be sharing anything with anyone outside of HSS, including him.”

I could see Chenevert was just as pissed off as I was. “So? How did he find out?”

“From Warren. Turns out this guy is engaged to Warren’s younger sister, and talk came up about the case, and he used what he heard to make a splash in the press. It’s worse than what you may have heard. Not only did he share about the heart being removed, and the letters, he managed to find out you were questioning someone in regard to the letters as well.”

“Please tell me that he’s been fired. He’s screwing up my case.”

“Not so far. Warren brushed it off and said it showed we were making headway, and that the Templar is obviously delusional to claim he’s killing vampires.”

I could feel my eye twitching due to stress. I didn’t know what else we could do if Warren was going to allow this guy to spill stuff about our cases to the press. “Then you’re right, we’re going to have to lock this case down. Nothing goes out to anyone beyond our department, CSI, and the coroner’s office. Lindsey and Damien are going to be the only ones working the evidence. I don’t trust anyone else.”

“I agree. Y’all keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll talk to Robinson and get him to back our play. Warren gets nothing until we’ve caught this guy.”

“Thank you.”

“How did your talk with Gaunt go yesterday? Think he’s our guy?”

“He’s definitely creepy enough, but I don’t know. He wrote the letters, but he didn’t give anything away that would make me think he’s our killer. Angel and I tried looking for connections between him and the two victims when we got back yesterday, but so far, we haven’t found anything. If he’s not our killer, then I’m not sure we can even work off the premise that he’s right and the perp is hunting what he thinks are vampires. I feel like we’re missing something.”

“Y’all will get there. What are you working on today?”

“I want to keep looking for that van. See if we can find anyone in either Gamble’s or Lily’s lives who owned one. I keep feeling like this perp knew them. Maybe he did maintenance work on their apartments or in the neighborhood? And I want to look into the rug angle too; maybe something with it will lead us to the guy.”

Chenevert nodded. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

I headed back to my desk and saw Angel was here, so I filled him in, and then we got busy looking for our needle in the huge haystack that was the Greater Los Angeles area. It was monotonous work. Scrolling through all the records of vehicles that met our criteria, then checking them against our victims, their workplaces, and their neighborhoods. I felt like we were spinning our wheels, waiting for our perp to make another move and possibly a mistake.

After lunch we split the job, with Angel continuing to search for the van while I went hunting up places our perp could have gotten the rug. I looked at retailers who sold rugs made with olefin, then for ones who sold ones that contained the colors Lindsey had identified in the fibers she’d recovered. There were two companies in LA that carried olefin rugs, but they were quick to inform me that there were any number of online retailers where our suspect could have bought the rug. There was no way for us to know, especially since we didn’t have anything but a few fibers to go off of.

I sat there staring at my computer screen, feeling frustrated and really wanting to talk to Frank about it, but he’d yet to text or call me. I knew he was back at work, so that might be why he hadn’t called today, but that didn’t explain why it had been days. I didn’t know why I was waiting on him. I was just as capable of calling him. So at a quarter to five I grabbed my phone, told Angel I’d be back, and headed to the break room to make my call.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?” Frank answered on the second ring.

I didn’t even know where to begin. I wanted to know what was going on with him, if he was pissed at me for some reason, how Timber was doing, if he missed me, why he hadn’t called or texted… so many questions ran through my head, but what I went with was, “Nothing, just frustrated at this case. Our PR guy is leaking shit to the press, we’ve got a guy writing us letters who may or may not be our killer, and I’ve got nothing. I’m just annoyed.”

“Mmm. I get it, but if it’s bugging you that much, maybe you should quit.”

I pulled my phone from my ear because clearly, I hadn’t heard him correctly. I stared at my screen to be sure it was Frank that I called. I put the phone back to my ear. “You didn’t just tell me to quit my job because I was frustrated with a case, did you?”

“Look, I can’t do this right now. I have to go.”

“Are you kidding me, Frank? You tell me to quit my job, and then you’re just going to hang up on me?”

“I—” he started.

But I cut him off. “You know what? Just stop. I don’t even want to talk to you right now.” I hung up feeling more frustrated than I had been before I called. If he had been in the middle of something, he could have said that instead of giving me shitty advice on what was bugging me.

I headed back to the detective pool and flung myself into my chair. I was seething and couldn’t think of a way to release my anger. Not here. I needed to go for a run or maybe do some target shooting. I glanced up as Angel stood from his desk.

“I’m headed out; see you tomorrow, Marce.” Angel gave me a nod.

“Bye.” I felt a little guilty for not telling him why I was in a crappy mood, but I didn’t want to drag him down into my mental mess. Not when he was in such a good place with Callie. They’d been so cute together on Saturday that I couldn’t help but think that despite his mom and aunt trying to come between them, they’d make it.

I needed to get out of this place as well, so I shut down my computer, grabbed my purse and headed out too. Once I was home, I changed into a pair of leggings, a tank top, and my concealed-carry holster. I tied my shoes and then, after locking up the house, went out for a run.

I ran until my limbs began to feel limp and rubbery. I made it about fifteen miles in three hours. It was nearly eight thirty by the time I decided to head back home. Only I wasn’t sure I would make it if I had to walk it, even though I’d run in a huge arc and was probably less than two miles from my house. The adrenaline from the anger that had fueled me when I started was long gone. On top of that, the sun had set already, and it was dark out, even though there were streetlights on.

I could see the sign for a Taco Bell up ahead, so I headed there. I was suddenly starving and figured it was as good a place as any to wait for an Uber to come and get me. I walked the last four blocks there and went in. They didn’t have anyone working the counters, just little kiosks on the wall to order from, so I put in my order and waited for them to call my name while I ordered a ride.

My name was called, and as I was picking up my order from the counter, my Uber arrived. I took a sip of my strawberry freeze as I headed outside to the waiting car. “I think you’re here for me?” I said, looking in the passenger window. “You’re Tabby?”

“Yes, that’s me; what’s your name?” she asked suspiciously.

“Marcy Kendrick.”

Tabby smiled. “Then I’m your ride.”

I pulled open the passenger door and started to get in when someone got in the opposite side and pulled a gun on her. The person was wearing a dark hoodie up over their head and had a gaiter pulled up over their mouth and nose. “Give me your phones, cash and cards,” he demanded, swinging the gun from Tabby to me.

This was not how I wanted to spend the rest of my night. “You don’t want to do this,” I said, squatting down to set my food on the ground.

“Don’t fucking move, bitch!” He waved the gun. He sounded twitchy and on something. Probably meth.

I needed him to focus on me and not on Tabby. If anyone was going to get shot, I didn’t want it to be her. “You want my shit, I’m gonna have to move, asshole.”

“Just hurry the fuck up,” he screamed as he spastically started looking around.

As he turned his head and kept his gun pointed toward me, I grabbed his wrist, yanked him toward me, pushing his hand between my right arm and my side so if he did pull the trigger, it wouldn’t hit me or Tabby. I hoped like hell that nobody was nearby to get hit, because what I was doing was dangerous. I slammed my free fist into his face, and he dropped the gun. I twisted his arm as I yanked him more toward me; then I moved, pushing my knee into his back. I swiftly brought his arm up to the small of his back as I held him down on the seat.

“Tabby, I’m an LAPD detective; call 911 and tell them that Detective Kendrick needs assistance at the Taco Bell on South Central Avenue.”

Tabby’s eyes were huge as she called and spoke to the dispatcher.

We stayed like that until Patrol arrived. The guy was tweaking out, crying and begging for me to let him go, but I didn’t let up. I had no idea where I got the strength after the run I’d just been on, but I’d managed it. My arms and legs were shaking, and I’d be so sore in the morning, but we were safe.

“Kendrick, having a little trouble there?” Officer Devon Banks said as he walked up behind me. “You know, if you were that hard up for a date… I’d have gone out with you.”

I closed my eyes hearing his voice. “Ha. So funny.” I stared daggers at him over my shoulder. “Get him cuffed. He attempted to rob us, and I think he’s on something.”

“We’ve got it, ma’am,” Officer Carl Jones said, sticking his head in the opposite door. He reached for the perp’s hand.

I got up and moved out the door that was still open. Unfortunately, as I set my foot down, it was on top of my food, squishing it. “Great.”

Banks started laughing, and it took me a few breaths to talk myself out of punching him.

“If you’re done having fun at my expense, you can grab the perp’s gun, which is right there next to my squashed dinner.”

Still laughing, Banks bagged the gun and then headed for the patrol car. Jones was reading the meth head his rights, and I looked back in the car to see Tabby was silently crying.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

She sniffled and nodded. “If you hadn’t been here…”

“But I was.” I kept my tone gentle because I knew what she was thinking.

“Thank God you were. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m getting a different job.”

I couldn’t blame her. People were crazy, and picking up strangers was a dangerous idea. I didn’t mind getting into someone’s car, but I was armed; most people weren’t. “Might be a good idea.”

“I’ll still take you home though. I mean, you saved us.”

“I’d appreciate that. Let me throw away my mess and speak to these officers; then we can go.”

This wasn’t how I imagined my night would go when I’d gone out for a run to distract myself from Frank and my bad mood, but it was the night I’d ended up with. An hour later, after a shower, I finally got something to eat and then fell into bed.

18

HOLY GROUND

DEMON SLAYER

Tuesday Night

Iwas sitting in the church, kneeling in prayer, when I heard someone come in behind me. I didn’t pay a lot of attention because people always came and went. Father Jacobs usually had the confessional open at this time, but he hadn’t returned yet, so Father Abrahams was filling in. I didn’t care for him, so I said my prayers directly to Jesus on the cross.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as the person settled into the pew in front of me. Their skin was very pale, almost white and translucent. Their hair was dark and cut close to their head. At first, I thought it was a woman, but as they rose a few minutes later and headed for the confessional, I realized it wasn’t a human woman at all. It was another demon.

My heart began to race. How could a demon be in these hallowed walls? How could it survive being on holy ground? It didn’t make any sense.

I waited for the demon to make a move, to kill Father Abrahams, but there was no noise coming from the confessional booth.

After a few minutes, the demon stepped out, grinning wide as it showed off its fangs. Its dark demonic eyes blazed in triumph, and I was frozen where I knelt. Had it killed Father Abrahams while I sat here? Was it showing off? I couldn’t wrap my head around what had just taken place.

The tower bell began to chime the time, ringing out with nine bells, and a moment later, Father Abrahams emerged from his side of the booth. He glanced down the aisle toward the demon, but didn’t seem disturbed by what he was seeing. That too made no sense to me. Was I the only one who could see it for what it was? Had God only blessed me? Father Abrahams was a priest; shouldn’t he have been able to discern a demon when he met one?

“We’ll be locking the door soon; you’ll need to finish your prayers for the night,” Father Abrahams murmured.

Without a word, I made the sign of the cross and rose. I needed to catch up with that demon. I didn’t want it hurting anyone. God had called on me to protect people from these creatures, and I needed to do as He asked. I quickly headed for the door and looked around into the darkness. I could see the demon standing at the edge of the parking lot. It pulled a set of headphones up from its neck, put them over its pointed ears and then began to walk down the sidewalk.

I ran to my van and grabbed a vial of the oil and the rowan branch. I didn’t want to get in the van and head home, or even try to capture this demon. God was calling me to get rid of it as quickly as possible. It was a dangerous being, and who knew when it would snap and kill someone? I had to find a way to destroy it.

I held the branch at my side as I quickened my steps to follow the demon. It was entering a neighborhood, and I couldn’t let it go into any of these good people’s houses. The streetlights were sporadic now, and the street was shadowed in many places.

Do it now, a voice said in my head. I knew it was God speaking. His voice was very distinct.

I raised the branch and slammed it down on the demon’s head. It didn’t even scream. It just collapsed to the ground.

I looked around, wondering how I was supposed to kill this thing and keep it from coming back. It was then I noticed the house I was standing in front of was under renovation. There was a load of bricks on a pallet next to the driveway.

Use a brick; coat it with the holy oil, the voice directed.

I nodded. “Yes, Lord.” I rushed over and picked up a brick with the edge of my shirt. I hadn’t brought any gloves with me. I’d been in too much of a hurry. I set the brick on the ground and pulled out the vial of oil, then poured it over the brick. Taking my shirt off, I picked the brick up again and walked back to the demon’s body. Using the brick, I smashed it into the demon’s face a few times and then forced it between the demon’s fangs.

As I did, I watched the demon leave the vessel it had stolen. The body returned to what it must have looked like before the demon had possessed it. Its skin darkened, and its teeth returned to normal human teeth. I didn’t dare remove the brick though for fear the demon would return and reanimate the woman’s body. “Go with God, cherished soul. You’re at peace now,” I murmured over the body.

I knew I couldn’t leave it out here on the sidewalk for anyone to find. They would remove the brick, and that would bring the demon back. I needed to hide it. I grabbed its arms and dragged it into the grass, toward the home being renovated. I noticed they’d dug a small trench for something next to the house, so I dragged the body in there and then covered it with some of the dirt. It would have to do.

I put my shirt back on, picked up the branch I’d dropped, and made my way back to my van. I felt the power of God wash over me, telling me I had done well.

19

EARLY MORNING DISCOVERY

MARCY

Wednesday Morning

My phone blared “When the Saints Go Marching In,” and I groaned. I’d barely gotten three hours of sleep.

“Sir?” I groggily answered. My whole body ached from my night of activities.

“Sorry, Kendrick, we’ve got a body,” Chenevert said.

“Okay, send me the address. I’m on my way.”

“Will do.” He hung up, and a minute later my phone dinged with a message.

I called Angel, and when he answered, I said, “Hey, sorry, I know it’s not even two a.m., but we have a body.”

“Who’s closer?” he asked, and I could hear him already getting up and moving about.

“Me,” I said as I stared at the address.

“Then I’ll pick you up.”

I nodded, forgetting we were on the phone.

“Marce?”

“What?”

“You didn’t answer. You want me to drive, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. See you in a few.”

I hung up and hauled myself into the shower. I’d had one a few hours ago, but now I took a cold one in the hopes it would wake me up more. My teeth were chattering by the time I got out and got dressed.

I’d barely finished when I saw Angel’s headlights flash in the window. Grabbing my purse and keys, I went out and locked the door, then got in his car. I set my phone on his dash with the GPS turned on, then picked up the siren. I turned on the light, but left off the sound. “Morning,” I said after putting on my seat belt.

“Is it morning? I’m thinking it’s still the middle of the night.” Angel chuckled.

“It’s too early for jokes.”

That just made him laugh more. He pulled out of my driveway and headed for the scene. It was in a neighborhood that was on the route that I’d run last night. That woke me up more than the shower had. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Angel gave me a concerned look.

“I was over here last night.”

“What? When?” His eyes were wide, and all joking was gone.

“Around seven, I guess. I went for a run, and I got to this neighborhood about an hour into it. I passed right by this house.” I pointed to the house we were parked in front of. It was being renovated and had blue plastic tarps on the roof. There was a pile of bricks on a pallet next to the driveway. Scaffolding was erected in front of the house.

“Did you see anything suspicious?”

I glanced at him. “If I did, I would have called it in. There were workmen still here when I ran by. I didn’t notice anything strange.”

We got out and started toward the patrol officers who were taping off the site. There were floodlights on, which I was sure the neighbors wouldn’t be too happy about, but we had a crime scene to see to, and we couldn’t do that in the dark.

“Hey, Jones, where’s the body?” I asked. If he was here, I knew Banks was here too somewhere.

Officer Jones paused in unrolling the yellow tape and glanced over his shoulder. “Up there by the house. The crew had dug out a section so they could put in some underground wiring. The body was in it, but wasn’t covered very well.”

“Who found it?” I questioned. We’d gotten the call around 1:35 a.m., so it was dark. How had anyone seen it?

“Homeowners, Terry Schueller and his wife, Lavinia.”

“Where are they?” I asked.

“Inside right now. Banks is with them.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Angel and I walked over to the shallow grave the body was in as Damien arrived. The CSI team looked to be right behind him. We squatted down and took in the body of a young woman who was barely covered in dirt. It was disturbing to see her jaw dislocated and a brick lodged in her mouth.

I leaned forward and inhaled. “Do you smell that?” I murmured.

Angel did the same, leaned toward the body and drew in a breath of air. “Balsam.”

“It’s our guy.”

“I don’t understand the brick in the mouth,” Angel said. “There wasn’t anything in the book about putting a brick in a vampire’s mouth.”

“You’ve read the whole thing?”

“While you were out running and stumbling across our crime scene before it was a crime scene, yeah.” He smiled. “It was kind of interesting, actually. Talked a lot about the various vampires from folklore, fiction and movies.”

“And none of them had bricks shoved down their throats? Who would have thought?” I rolled my eyes.

Vampires weren’t real, so I really doubted our killer actually thought they were killing Nosferatu. More than likely, they were using the method to cover the killing or to make a splash in the news. The more outlandish the killings, the bigger the story and the more notoriety. The press had already given this guy part of what he wanted, deeming him the Templar. The press was going to make sure to give him a lot of coverage, and I had a feeling that once we caught him, he’d have sick-minded people treating him like a rockstar and wanting to write his story. It was the way these things went more often than not.

“What are you thinking?” Angel asked as Damien and Lindsey joined us.

“I’m thinking we need to catch this guy before he becomes a legend. The press is already fascinated with him. I don’t like it.”

“Death sells,” Damien commented as he squatted down next to me. “Oh wow, that’s…” He stared down at the dark-complected woman in disbelief.

“Ninety-nine percent sure this is our same killer,” I said. “So check for similarities to the others, would you, Damien?”

“Will do.” He nodded and opened his bag.

“Hey, Linds, I think that brick was an improvised weapon. Pretty sure it came from the pallet by the driveway. Can we get it dusted for prints?”

“Standard dusting won’t work on brick, we’ll have to use a different method, but yeah, we’ll look at them. Probably going to have a lot of prints to rule out given they’re on an active worksite. So we’ll need to get the prints of the renovation crew to rule them out. Do we know who’s in charge of the site?”

“Not yet,” Angel replied. “The homeowners are inside with Banks; we’ll get that information from them.”

At Angel’s mention of Banks, Lindsey flinched. “Great, that’s just what I need,” she muttered.

“We won’t send him out with the information,” I promised. “I’ll try to keep him from bugging you.”

“Thanks, Marce. I appreciate that. He won’t stop blowing up my phone. He keeps it up, I’m filing harassment charges.”

Angel looked concerned. “Banks is harassing you?”

“I went out on one bad date with him, and now he seems to think he has access to my life, what I do, who I talk to.”

“I’ll talk to him, get him to back off,” Angel replied.

Lindsey smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. You’re my friend,” Angel said, “but I would do it for any woman who was being harassed.”

“Thanks, Angel.” Lindsey smiled and then turned to start barking orders at her team.

“That was good of you,” I said as we walked toward the front door of the house.

“Any decent guy would do the same.” He shrugged. “You talk to the homeowners, and I’ll grab Banks and have that chat.”

I half wished I could listen in, but it was probably better that I didn’t. Angel would tell me later what was said anyway. Instead I greeted the homeowners. “Mr. and Mrs. Schueller? I’m Detective Kendrick. Would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

“Banks, with me,” Angel said, his voice firm.

“I’m not sure what all we can answer, but we’ll do our best,” Mr. Schueller replied.

I watched Angel direct Banks into another room. “That’s fine. I appreciate it.”

“Where are they going?” Mrs. Schueller asked, her brow furrowed. “Why are they going in Terry’s office?”

“Oh, er… I believe my partner is using it to question that officer on another matter. He should have asked if you would mind. Do you want me to have them go to a different room?”

Mr. Schueller shrugged. “It’s fine. There’s nothing in there but a desk and some books.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a tight smile. “Now, can you tell me how you came to discover the body?”

“Sure. Lavinia and I were out of town for the past two weeks. The reno crew were working inside while we were away, but they’d moved to the outside yesterday, so we decided to come home. We got back around twelve thirty, wasn’t it, Lavy?”

“Yes, just after twelve thirty.” His wife nodded.

“We got in the house and put our things away, checked out what all the crew had completed inside. I wanted to see what they were working on outside, so I turned on the outdoor lighting. That must have been about twenty after one. I started in the back and worked my way around the house. Found her shortly after that. My wife came out at that point to see what was keeping me. Who would do such a thing? Her face was all smashed in, and that brick…” He shuddered.

“Did you recognize her?” I asked, taking notes.

“No, I don’t think so, but as I said, her face was smashed, and it wasn’t very bright out even with the lights. Do you know who she is?”

“Not yet, but we’ll find out.”

Lavinia looked like she wanted to say something, but was hesitant.

“What is it? Did you think of something?” I questioned.

“Well, it’s just… she sort of looked like the daughter of one of our neighbors.”

Mr. Schueller turned to his wife. “The Achebes?”

“We don’t know them well, you understand. Barely got to know them, really. They keep to themselves for the most part,” Lavinia explained.

“And where do the Achebes live?”

“Their house is four down from us. They moved in about six years ago. Large family, but the oldest ones are off at college. In fact, I’m pretty sure if that is their daughter, she’s supposed to be at UCLA.”

If she was supposed to be at college, what was she doing here? I wondered. I hated the idea that we’d have to go down the street and wake the Achebes with such horrid news about their daughter. “Thank you. Once we have a positive ID, we’ll speak to them if it is their daughter. In the meantime, may I ask that you not discuss how you found her? We’ll clean her up before her parents come and see her, but it would be best they not have that visual in their heads.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t imagine. I wish I didn’t have that visual in my head myself,” Mrs. Schueller replied.

“I just have one more question. Who is the reno crew you have working on your house? We need to eliminate prints. Also we’ll need them to hold off on working on your house until we can clear the scene.”

“How long will that take?” Mr. Schueller asked, sounding worried.

“A few days, max. I know it’s inconvenient, but we really need to have access to the scene without it being contaminated by the work crew. Also, it might be best if you went to stay somewhere else, but we won’t insist on that.”

“We understand, and yes, we decided when we found her that we weren’t going to stay here,” Mr. Schueller said. “The construction company is Jameson Construction. The owner is a friend of mine, Cameron Jameson. I’ll call him and let him know what’s going on.”

“We’d appreciate that. In fact, it might be easier if you ask him and his crew to come by as early as possible so we can get their prints to eliminate them from our inquiries. That way we can move on this faster.”

“Absolutely. Anything I can do to help.”

Angel and Banks emerged from the office a moment later. Banks looked like he was suddenly scared of Angel, and I wondered what he’d said to him. Angel just smirked. I looked between the two and then said, “Officer Banks, if you would wait with Mr. and Mrs. Schueller while they pack and then see them to their car?”

“Yeah, sure. I can do that,” he said, his voice slightly gruff. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. Schueller. Here’s my card if you think of anything else or have any questions about your property.” I handed them my card.

Angel and I went back outside, and I asked, “So did you scare the living daylights out of him or what? He came out of that room looking like he’d met the boogeyman.”

“I merely explained to him exactly what was going to happen to him if I ever caught wind that he was being disrespectful to any woman again, but especially to a woman I care about.”

20

HEADS WILL ROLL

MARCY

Wednesday Morning

Angel and I stayed at the scene until after the renovation crew showed up at six a.m. I wanted to question them, and then the two of us went down the street to inform the parents of their daughter’s death. It turned out our victim had her ID on her. Her name was Carla Achebe, and she was nineteen. She was a student at UCLA and lived there, so we still weren’t sure why she was in the neighborhood, but according to Damien, she’d most likely been killed sometime between sunset and twelve thirty when the Schuellers arrived home.

After speaking to her parents, we discovered that Carla had come home earlier the day before to spend the rest of the week with her family since she had no classes scheduled until Monday. She’d gone out that evening with friends, but when she hadn’t come in, they’d assumed she’d stayed with friends.

We’d gotten the names of the friends she’d been with and gone to visit them to establish a timeline for Carla. They’d dropped her at Basil Parish Catholic Church at eight p.m. I wasn’t sure why she would go to the church on a random Tuesday evening, but her friends said she’d wanted to go to confession. Apparently, Carla had been a very devout Catholic. Then we’d stopped by the church to see how long Carla had been there.

It was close to eleven a.m. by the time we finally got into the precinct, and it felt as though we’d been working nonstop since we first got the call about the body. Instead of going to HSS immediately, we headed down to the CSI lab to see if Lindsey had gotten anything.

“Hey, Linds, anything new turn up?” I asked as we entered.

“I can tell you that the brick that was in her mouth was covered in baptismal oil and blood. The blood was all hers from being smashed into her face. No prints on it though.”

“What about the others?”

“Every print we recovered from them belonged to the construction crew.”

I had hoped there would be something, given that it seemed to be a last minute weapon choice, but apparently not. “Okay, thanks.” I turned to Angel. “Let’s see if Damien has anything.”

“Sure.” He nodded, but paused and looked at Lindsey. “I spoke to Banks. If he bothers you again, let me know, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be keeping his distance from now on.”

“I figured as much because he didn’t even acknowledge me at the scene, and he hasn’t texted me once today.” Lindsey smiled. “I appreciate you getting through to him for me.”

“No problem. See ya later.”

We walked down the hall to the morgue and found Damien in his office. He was typing on his computer and barely looked up as we knocked.

“Give me a minute.”

Angel and I stood patiently waiting for him to finish what he was working on, but I was starting to get ravenous. I hadn’t eaten since last night. I figured once we finished here, I’d run out to one of the food trucks for something since I didn’t want to get back out in traffic unless I had to.

“Thanks for waiting. I just wanted to finish typing up my notes.” He stood and joined us. “Let me show you what I found.” He walked with us over to the cooler, where he opened one of the drawers and pulled the slab out. Pulling the sheet down, he said, “Let’s start here.” He directed our attention to the back of the head. “She was hit from behind, again with a piece of rowan wood. There was baptismal oil in the gash that was left by it. When I examined the wood pieces that were left behind, there were traces of hair from Lily on them. I think your killer is using the same three-inch branch to bludgeon each victim.”

“So why not just finish her off with the branch instead of improvising with the brick, and why put the brick in her mouth? I don’t get it,” I said.

“That’s a good question. I’m not sure. The killer used the brick to smash her forehead in, hitting her several times with the corner of the brick between the eyes and on the bridge of her nose. A couple of smaller pieces of the brick were left in the wounds to the face, and there were traces of the oil in those wounds as well. The brick was then forced into her mouth, which was shoved so hard several of her teeth were shattered in the impact.”

“Was she still alive?” Angel asked.

“No, the first brick smash looks like it penetrated the skull, and it would have killed her instantly. Because there were no brick fragments in the eyes, I’m fairly certain they were closed at the time of the impact, so she may have been unconscious from the blow to the back of the head.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies,” I murmured.

“Were there any defensive wounds? Did it look like she was sexually assaulted in any way?” Angel asked.

“None, and no. Her clothing was intact. I’d say she was attacked from behind and didn’t even know what hit her. The killer then picked up a brick from the pallet, covered it in the oil and went to work on her face. Probably took less than two minutes.”

“We know her friends dropped her off at the church, which was about ten blocks from where she was found, so she was probably on foot,” I said, thinking about her movements. “Father Abrahams said he’d taken her confession, and then he’d watched her leave at nine when he locked up the church.”

Damien nodded. “That fits the time of death.”

“Anything else?” Angel asked.

“Not right now. If I come across anything, I’ll let you know.”

Leaving the morgue, we headed upstairs to HSS, and just as I was about to head out to the food trucks, Robinson called for us. My shoulders sank as I turned back around. “Yes, sir?”

“My office, now!” he said firmly.

I noticed Chenevert was at his side, and he looked like he wished he were anywhere else. I glanced at Angel as we crossed the room. The four of us entered Robinson’s office. There were only two seats, opposite Robinson’s desk, which Chenevert gestured for us to take.

“What’s going on, sir?” I asked.

“This is the third body we’ve gotten from this Templar killer, and the chief is breathing down my neck for an arrest. You’ve got a suspect. I want him brought in now. The press are having a field day speculating on this, and the chief thinks if we don’t bring him in, the reporters are going to paint us in a bad light again and say we aren’t keeping the public safe. We need to make this go away before the chief decides heads need to roll.”

“Sir—” I started.

“Don’t tell me you don’t have enough evidence, Kendrick. You’ve got the letters, you’ve questioned him, he doesn’t have alibis for the previous murders, and your notes say he was home alone.”

“Yes, sir, but—” Angel tried.

But Robinson interrupted him. “Look, you two are our best and brightest. The last thing I want is the chief yanking this case from us and giving it to the FBI.” He looked like he really believed the chief might do just that. “Bring him in. I’ve already sent the paperwork in to get the arrest warrant. You should have it soon.”

“Okay, sir.” I nodded, but I wasn’t sure it was the right move. “Was there anything else?”

“No, you’re dismissed.”

Angel and I left the office and returned to the detective pool.

“This is a mistake,” he muttered.

“I agree, but we don’t have a choice. We’ve got three dead bodies, two of which are young women, good women from everything we’ve discovered. The press are going to shine that spotlight hard on us, so I get the chief wanting it to look like we’re doing something.”

The warrant came in, and Angel and I drove out to Santa Monica to pick up Mason Gaunt. Thankfully, after only a small protest, he came along peacefully. He’d left his employee in charge and asked that they contact his lawyer for him. Once they’d done that, we’d headed back to LA, where his lawyer had said he’d meet us.

“Mr. Gaunt, as you are aware, we’ve now got three dead bodies, and from your letters, you seem to know quite a bit about each of the murders, and you’ve got no alibi for any of them.”

“I’ve already explained the letters. I was attempting to help you come to the proper conclusion, not bragging about killing those people,” he said haughtily.

“Many serial killers enjoy baiting the cops and write letters to gain more notoriety.”

“That was obviously not my intention in writing them. Look, from everything I’ve read about these murders, they all have elements of a traditional vampire killing, though those methods could also be used in a religious ceremony.”

“What do you mean?”

“The holy water and oil are also used in exorcisms. It’s possible the killer is trying to free the person they’ve killed from some kind of possession.”

“Possession. By a demon?” I asked dryly. “So now you’re trying to say that it’s not vampires at all but demons.”

“I’m saying I don’t know for a fact that it’s either one. I’m just telling you that the methods used thus far could be construed in that direction. I don’t have all the facts, I’m sure there are elements of the murders that I don’t know about, but the facts I do know all lead me to believe this killer is murdering possessed people.”

“Mr. Gaunt, we have enough circumstantial evidence to charge you for these murders, and you are not helping your case.”

“But—” he started.

Ira Sellers, his lawyer, stopped him and whispered in his ear. Then Sellers said to me, “At this time, my client will not be answering any more of your questions, so either charge him or let him go.”

I tilted my head and stared at the lawyer. He was from Santa Monica, so I didn’t know him. Sighing, I said, “Very well, Mr. Mason Gaunt, I’m placing you under arrest for the murders of Edward Gamble, Lily Ogata, and Carla Achebe. Please stand up.”

“I’m innocent! Sellers, do something!” Mason demanded as Angel forced him to his feet.

“I’ll do everything I can, but right now, you have to go with Detective Reyes and get processed. They don’t have anything but circumstantial evidence. I’m sure a judge will see that and set bail accordingly.”

“This is wrong. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t murder anyone,” he protested as Angel walked him out of the room.

I wanted to deny that all we had was circumstantial evidence, that we had more, but we didn’t. In fact, I had a feeling in my gut that Gaunt wasn’t our guy, but right now I didn’t have a choice. I had to just let things play out because the people above my pay grade had decided to take it out of my hands.

I just hoped Angel and I weren’t the ones to pay the price for this arrest in the end.

21

THE FACELESS ONE

DEMON SLAYER

Sunday

Mass had been particularly uplifting this morning. I had been filled with God’s wisdom and power and felt very blessed by Him. I knew that I had been doing His work and that He was grateful I’d answered His call. I hadn’t shared my blessings with anyone, as God had spoken to me and explained that I was to remain quiet. That though Father Abrahams was a good man, he would not understand. I needed to wait for Father Jacobs to return. Only he would be able to comprehend what I was dealing with for God. He had been subject to one of the demon’s attempted possessions, and therefore he was the only priest who would be capable of discerning the truth of what was happening.

I prayed daily for his recovery. Spent hours at Basil Parish on my knees, begging for the good Lord to restore Father Jacobs to his full health and vigor. Still, he lingered in the hospital, from what I had been told. He was taking no visitors outside of his own family, so I could not go and see him.

The afternoons I spent upkeeping the church grounds, which was my job for the whole diocese. I didn’t care what they paid me, it was rewarding work in itself, and it provided me with the van. I didn’t have to worry about money; all my needs were met either by my Lord and Savior, or through my sister. The good Lord had provided me with a humble life, and I was happy to serve Him.

As I finished mowing the small church cemetery next door to Basil Parish, I noticed we had a visitor. That wasn’t unusual. People often came to visit the graves. I had no reason to feel unsafe in the cemetery; it was, after all, consecrated ground. Plus I hadn’t seen a demon in five days. I hoped I had eradicated them all, but if I hadn’t, I knew the good Lord would let me know and would direct me to take action.

I put the mower away in the shed and pulled out the sidewalk trimmer. I started on the path closest to the shed, trying not to disturb the figure who knelt by the grave nearest the fence. They had their back to me, so I couldn’t tell who it was. The sunlight was starting to dim as the sun began to set, so that contributed to how much I was able to see.

As I moved along the path with the trimmer, I got closer to the grieving person. I could hear them murmuring, and something about it sent a chill up my spine. It gave me pause, and I turned the trimmer off to listen. As soon as I did, the murmuring stopped.

I looked at the figure and blanched. I was close enough now to see it. They had no face. In fact, where their face should have been was completely smooth. “Dear Lord, protect me from this demon,” I whispered as I hurried to put the trimmer away.

The Lord was calling on me once again to act, and I needed to make sure the demon didn’t suspect that I was after it. I lingered by the shed as I waited to see where the demon would go. I wouldn’t kill it here. I wasn’t even sure how it could stand to be on holy ground for so long, but I figured it would eventually be compelled to leave. Perhaps the soul the demon was possessing had forced it here to try to remove it from their body.

I believe you are right, a voice in my head said. It was God’s voice.

Recognizing His voice gave me comfort. I felt at peace about what I needed to do. God would direct me.

As the demon began to walk back toward the gate, I locked the shed and followed at a slow pace. It got into a small blue car, and I hurried to the van, which thanks be to God I’d made sure to prepare for this occasion by replacing the things I’d gone through, like the gallons of holy water and vials of oil from the stores I’d collected.

Just as I got into the driver’s seat, there was a loud boom of thunder. I took that as a sign that God wasn’t happy about this demon having been on sanctified ground. We rarely had thunderstorms here, but it seemed God was going to cleanse the earth where this demon had been walking.

I pulled out of the church’s side parking lot and turned right, following the demon. It was full dark and pouring down rain when the demon finally stopped. It was as though God had opened up the heavens and had decided to flood the earth again, there was so much water. The streets were slick with it, and I’d hydroplaned a few times.

The wind was blowing very hard as well, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the wrath the good Lord was raining down on this demon. I watched it get out of the vehicle and pull the blazer it was wearing closer to its body. I was parked a few feet down from where it had parked. I moved to the back of my van and grabbed my gloves and the rowan branch, which had become a treasure to me in my quest to slay these demons.

I needed to work quickly. The good Lord was telling me this was my chance. The road was nearly empty, and the demon was moving against the wind and rain as it poured down hard and fast. Thunder clapped, and jagged streaks of lightning lit up the sky as I moved up behind it.

As soon as the next thunderclap sounded, I struck. I hit the demon over the head as hard as I could, and it went down. I smiled when the lightning struck again, as though God was showing me His approval.

I slid the rowan branch under my arm and then grabbed the demon by its arms and dragged it to the van. It took me a few minutes to heft it inside, and once it was in, I quickly bound it with the blessed rope. I moved to the front of the van again and started it up, but didn’t pull back onto the street. Instead I said a quick prayer, asking for God’s guidance.

The river, the voice said.

“Yes, Lord,” I replied. It was the perfect place to destroy a demon. Moving water was detrimental to demons. It would free the possessed soul and send the demon back to hell.

I began to drive, but it didn’t take me long to get to Elysian Park. The river wasn’t too far from it, and with the flooding that was starting, I would be able to set this demon in the moving water and leave it to drown. It wasn’t ideal, especially in all the rain, but I knew God would watch over me as I turned off the road and onto the grass so I could get closer to the river. The van did get stuck once, but with a bit of effort, I made it through to the asphalt near the train tracks. The water was already starting to rise on the other side of them.

I got out of the van and opened the back doors. I flipped the demon over and began to pour the gallon jug of holy water over its nonexistent face. I wasn’t sure how the drowning was going to work since it didn’t have a mouth, but God told me He would take care of it, but first I had to cleanse the body with the holy water.

The demon struggled as I drenched it in the blessed water.

I once again heard the Lord’s voice in my head. Use the cross.

At first, I was confused. I wasn’t sure what that meant, and then I saw it. The iron cross I’d taken from the church. I looked around the van, trying to figure out what the Lord meant by use it, and then I saw the vial of oil, and I knew what I needed to do. I needed to heat up the cross and brand this demon with it.

I set the cross down next to the demon, coated it in the oil and then used the lighter I kept in the glove box to ignite it. I let it burn and get good and hot for a few minutes. With a shove, I rolled the demon’s chest on top of the cross and pushed it down on top of it. I held it there for a minute or two and then rolled it back over to make sure it took.

Just as the Lord had shown me, the demon now had a cross-shaped burn embedded in its skin. I picked up the gallon jug again and continued to douse its body in the holy water. After I’d poured the last of the water over what should have been its face, I yanked it out of the van. I began to drag it toward the water, which was slowly rising.

Use the cinder blocks. The voice spoke to me.

I noticed a pile of cement blocks near the building and moved toward them. “You’re right, Lord, it needs to be weighed down, and I need to make a trap,” I answered. I dropped the demon to the ground and rushed back to the van for more rope.

Twenty minutes passed, and the water continued to rise. I had tied the rope to the blocks and then carried them into the water, which was now waist deep. I’d used a can of spray paint to mark the other cinder blocks with the devil’s trap symbols, which was difficult in the rain, but I was able to do it under the awning of the building the cement blocks had sat close to.

When the paint was dry enough, I placed the blocks in a circle around the center block. It was a struggle not to get swept away, but I managed it because the Lord was watching over me. I threaded the end of the rope around the demon’s neck and through the rope I’d tied the demon’s hands with, and then held my breath as I went under and pulled it tight, knotting it around the submerged block of cement.

When I came up for air, the demon was head down in the water; only its feet showed. I began to pray over the demon, asking the Lord to free the soul of the person the demon had possessed, and when the demon didn’t get free, I knew I’d successfully trapped it and sent it back to hell.

Satisfied that I’d done my duty, I waded back out of the water and made my way back to the van. As I got back in the driver’s seat, the storm began to abate. The Lord’s wrath had been quenched with the death of the demon. The soul was free.

“Go in peace with the Lord,” I murmured as I drove away.

22

PROVEN RIGHT

ANGEL

Monday Morning

The past several days had been uneventful aside from Mason Gaunt being arraigned and given a bail amount set at five million dollars, which he hadn’t been able to pay. Chief Warren had held a press conference confidently saying that we’d arrested the man who’d committed the so-called Templar murders and that the city could rest easy now.

Marcy had scoffed and refused to answer questions as they were thrown at us. We hadn’t wanted to attend the press conference, but we couldn’t say no to a direct order from the police chief. So we’d stood off to the side while he’d spoken as if he had been the one to single-handedly capture Mason Gaunt.

After the press conference on Thursday evening, Marcy and I had continued to work the case as if we hadn’t made an arrest. Chenevert knew our feelings about it and had agreed with our assessment on the case, not that he’d been able to change the outcome either. Still, we all wanted to find the actual killer and get Mr. Gaunt out of jail. Unless we could prove that he really was the killer.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything tying these victims to any one person. It was like the killings were random. They had no common friends, family, work environments… the only thing I could think of that connected them was the way they were killed. Not even the crime scenes were similar.

One thing of note that we did discover was that both Lily Ogata and Carla Achebe both attended the same Catholic church on occasion, Basil Parish, but they hadn’t known each other. Which wasn’t surprising, since it was a big church with a congregation of more than three thousand members. The entire archdiocese contained more than five million members. So the chance they knew one another was slim to begin with.

“Morning,” I said when I saw Marcy already seated at her desk. She looked like she’d been here for hours. There were two empty boxes of what must have been beignets on her desk, and it looked like she was on her second cup of coffee. “Been here a while?”

She nodded. “Yeah, got here early. I wanted to take another look at the Ogata file.” She tapped the folder in front of her. “I keep going back to the van. Did we ever check to see what kind of vehicle Mason had? Or if he could have rented or borrowed a van?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Nope, we didn’t.”

“I didn’t think so. Let’s check that out. I want to know every vehicle he might have had access to.”

“I’m on it.” I sat down and started with his registered vehicle. “Looks like he drives an Audi, but”—I hit another button—“he’s also got a van registered to the bookshop. I’m pulling it up now.” I typed a little more, found the image of the van and zoomed in on it. “What do you think?” I turned the screen so she could see it.

“That’s a service van.” She looked angry, but I wasn’t sure why.

“Yeah, but it’s blue.”

“He could have painted it,” she suggested.

“Maybe, but we don’t know that he did. Plus it’s got the shop name on both sides of it.”

“I want to go see it.”

“Yeah, okay, we should let Chen—” I stopped short as Jason walked up.

“A call just came in, and I think this one belongs to you,” Jason said.

“What do you mean?”

Jason made a face. “A body was found near Elysian Park, in the flood zone near the river. It may be nothing, but from the sound of it, it might be another one of the Templar murders.”

I glanced at Marcy. “Gaunt’s been locked up since Wednesday.”

“I knew it,” she said, seething as she yanked her desk drawer open to pull out her purse. “Let’s go.”

As soon as we got to the body, I knew Marcy was proven right. This was body number four, and there was no way Mason Gaunt could be our killer. Still, we took it slow to make sure we weren’t wrong.

“How long has he been here, Damien?” Marcy asked.

“Hard to say from the body, but considering where we are, I’d say he was drowned last night in the flooding from the storm. I mean, we’re still ankle-deep in it. And that storm was harsher than anyone predicted. Nobody would have left someone tied up here for days on the off chance this area would flood; plus he would have been seen and probably heard long before that storm hit if he was put here last week.”

Those were all valid points, and every one of them proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Gaunt was innocent. At least in doing this murder. It was still possible he was involved, but I figured that was pretty unlikely. Our one witness hadn’t mentioned our killer being with anyone else.

“Does he have any ID?” Marcy asked. “I want to establish his movements before we go to the lieutenant and tell him that Warren has made a mistake.”

“Perry Chiu, age thirty-four, according to his driver’s license,” Lindsey answered, holding open a wallet.

I walked around the death scene, which was odd. There was a circle of cinder blocks with spray-painted symbols on them. Perry had been murdered in the center of them. “Lindsey, are these the same symbols that were at the Gamble scene?”

Lindsey moved to join me. “Could be. I’ll get pictures and compare them. I had one of my techs looking into them, but I haven’t checked in to see if they’d found anything. I’ll do that.”

I turned to see Marcy taking pictures with her phone. “Planning to sell them to the tabloids?” I teased.

She didn’t even crack a smile. “No. I’m going to ask Gaunt about them.”

“You think he’ll help us after this?” Somehow, I doubted it.

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping he will. He should never have been arrested in the first place. Stupid Warren,” she muttered.

I had to agree. It had been the wrong move on Warren’s part, and now we were going to look even worse in the press than if he had just allowed us to do our jobs properly. Instead we’d wasted days on Gaunt. Days when we could have been using him to help us instead of trying to find connections between the victims and Gaunt.

After speaking to the foreman who found Mr. Chiu, Marcy and I left Lindsey and her team in charge of the scene. Damien had already packed up the body and was on his way back to the morgue so he could conduct the autopsy.

“Where to?” I asked as Marcy got into the passenger seat.

“Lockup. I want to talk to Gaunt before we cut him loose.” Her words were like cut glass, sharp and pointy. It wasn’t just her tone, but her attitude, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

“Are you angry with me about something?” I asked.

“No.”

I turned in my seat and stared at her. “Okay, if you’re not mad at me, then what’s going on with you? You’ve been on edge for days now; should I be hiding the knives or what?”

“I’m—” she started, but then cut herself off, and her brow crinkled, and she looked down at her clenched fists. “I’m just irritated about this case, but it’s not you. It’s Warren, and… have you noticed how every time we arrest a perp, they’re let back out on the street with barely a slap on the wrist? Not Gaunt obviously, since he’s still there, but the shooters from that bank job? Back on the street with orders to report to court for their case, which you know they won’t show up to. They’ll disappear and pop up somewhere else, probably doing the same damn thing or something worse. But Gaunt, who it turns out did nothing, got pinned with a five-million-dollar bail? Make it make sense. Because right now, I can’t see it.”

She wasn’t wrong. Our court system was a mess right now. “All we can do is keep doing our jobs. Keep catching the bad guys. Locking them up is the DA’s job. Right now we’ve got a bad one, but that will change with enough public outcry. We’ve been through this before.”

“I know. I’m just getting tired of it.”

“Of doing the job?”

“No, of it not making a difference.”

“I’d say you need a vacation, but you just got back from one.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling like this?” She shrugged. “It was so… peaceful there. The air was clean; everywhere was teeming with wildlife; the people were respectful and helped one another. It was friendly. I just wish it could be more like that here.”

“I hate to break it to you, Marce, but you’re wrong. Alaska actually has a pretty high rate for crime. Both in property crimes and in sexual and aggravated assaults.”

“What? That can’t be right,” she denied with a shake of her head.

“Three to four times the national average on assaults. You were in the southern part of the state, which is slightly safer, but overall, yeah, they don’t have the best record.”

Pulling out her phone, she began typing, and then she looked over at me as the results came up. “Huh, well, great. Now I’m disillusioned and feel even worse.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to burst your bubble.”

“How did you know about their crime rates in the first place?” She shoved her phone back in her pocket.

“I looked it up because you were going there, and I wanted to know what you were walking into. I know you were with Frank, so I didn’t really worry, but I needed to know.”

She sat quiet for a minute and then nodded. “Let’s go talk to Gaunt.”

I took that to mean she was done with the conversation, and turned on the car, then headed to the jail. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and could see she was thinking. Her face looked pensive, like she was struggling with some thought.

I was startled when she said, “Frank’s been distant.”

“Oh?” I questioned, not wanting to push for details she wasn’t ready to share.

“He’s texted a couple of times, basically to let me know he’s alive, but he hasn’t been over, hasn’t called.”

“What’s he said in the texts?”

“Just things like ‘miss you,’ or a ‘love you, TT.’ Said things were busy. I just don’t know what to make of it.”

It was curious, but I knew from what she’d said before that he had been struggling too since getting back from Alaska, really since getting shot. “Have you called him?”

“It goes straight to voicemail, and he doesn’t call back.” Her voice shook. “Maybe he’s just lost interest in me and doesn’t know how to say it.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. If it was, you wouldn’t be getting the miss you and love you texts. Maybe it’s something to do with work?”

“Maybe.”

I pulled into the jail parking lot. “Ready?”

She nodded, and we headed in. After talking to the warden, we were set up in a private room where we could speak to Gaunt. He was escorted in, his hands and his ankles cuffed, with a long chain connecting them.

“Can you remove his cuffs, please?” Marcy asked the guard.

A moment later Gaunt was freed, and he sat down across from us. “Why are you here? Haven’t you ruined my life enough?”

“Look, we’re just doing our job. There was enough circumstantial evidence, and you didn’t have an alibi for those murders. More has come to light recently, and I would like to show you something. Get your take on it.”

“You’re asking for my help? Why?” He gave us an incredulous look. “Why should I help you if you’re going to use it to convict me?”

“You have every right to be angry, but I don’t actually think you’re the one behind these killings. Neither of us do,” I said, nodding toward Marcy. “If you want out of here, your best bet is to cooperate with us.”

“Fine. What do you want to show me?”

Marcy handed her phone to him. “Look through those images. We’ve found these symbols at two of the crime scenes. Do you recognize them?”

He frowned and looked through the pictures and then gave the phone back. “How were they arranged?”

“In the first scene there was a star, and they were at each point. Almost a circle. The second, which was what I showed you, were on those cement blocks arranged in a circle, but as you also saw, they were in water. In the flood zone next to the LA River.”

“So in moving water.” He nodded, thinking about it. “I might have been wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Certain elements work with my theory that this person was hunting and killing vampires, but these symbols change things. If I’d known about them before, I’d have been more accurate. He’s not hunting vampires, not exactly, he’s hunting demons.” He nodded toward Marcy’s phone. “Those symbols are used in a demon trap.”

“But he could still think they’re vampires? Is that what you’re saying?” I asked.

“No. Some people do consider vampires as demons, but generally, vampire hunters don’t use demon traps on vampires. Moving water, holy water, holy relics, those all work against vampires, according to lore. But those things also work against demons. The use of the demon trap tells me they are specifically hunting demons.”

23

ON THE ROCKS

MARCY

Monday Evening

After leaving the jail, we had a little more insight into the killer, but we’d lost our one and only suspect. Not that I’d actually believed Mason Gaunt was behind these killings in the first place. We’d gone back to the precinct and shared the news with Chenevert and Robinson, who were quick to inform Warren.

Angel and I’d kept a low profile the rest of the day because Warren was irate. He’d been read the riot act by the mayor and attempted to pass the buck on to us, but Chenevert and Robinson thankfully had our backs. Still, we’d escaped the detective pool and driven out to Santa Monica to double-check Gaunt’s service van before he was released. It was definitely dark blue with his name and bookshop on it in big lettering and a picture of his building. There was no way on earth it could have been mistaken for a white service van, and it had never been white. We knew because Angel noticed a spot with some chipped paint. So we were back at square one with the case.

We’d left Santa Monica and went to inform Chiu’s family of his death, and they hadn’t taken it well. Comforting and assuring them that we would find his killer had taken a bit of time, so when I headed home, I was thoroughly exhausted. As I drove, I thought about why I hadn’t attempted to go see Frank while we were there, and I knew it was because I was scared. I loved the man, and I feared if I went to see him, he’d end things with me. Maybe it was pointless to have hope that we’d make it. So many relationships flamed hot in the beginning and then faded out. I didn’t know if that was what was going on, but it was what I feared.

Imagine my shock when I pulled into my driveway to see Frank’s truck parked there and him sitting on my front step with Timber on his leash. My heart leapt with joy seeing them, and I wondered why he hadn’t called to tell me he was coming over. What if it was bad news? What if he was here to break up with me? How would I handle that on top of everything else right now?

Get it together, Marcy. You’re a survivor; you’ll handle it as you’ve handled everything else, I reminded myself.

I pushed open the car door, got out and calmly shut the door before looking at him and walking halfway up the path to my front door. “Hi.”

Frank stood up and said, “Hey. I know you’re probably angry at me.”

I had stopped walking and was now standing still on my front walk, staring at him as Timber wagged his tail and yipped at me. I wasn’t actually angry at him. I was disappointed, sad, disheartened. “No, I’m not angry. Honestly, I’m more concerned than anything. I feel like I’ve been preparing myself for you to break things off with me permanently, and I’ve been sad about that.”

Frank’s expression faltered. “What? No. I’m not planning to break up with you. I love you. I’ve missed you. I never wanted you to think that. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. That’s why I tried to let you know that I was missing you and that I love you. I’ve just been under a lot of stress and this guy”—he glanced at Timber with fondness—“he’s a handful that I don’t think I was as prepared for as I thought.”

I moved forward, and Timber was finally close enough to jump up on me and happily greet me. I scruffed his fur and squatted down next to him, wrapping my arms around him. “Hey, little man, I’ve missed you.”

Timber licked my face, and I laughed a little.

“He’s missed you too,” Frank murmured.

I looked up at him. “Let’s go inside and talk. We can let Timber run around in the backyard and burn off some of this energy.”

I unlocked the front door, and they followed me in. I set my things down, and we headed to the patio door, where Frank let Timber off his leash. Timber raced into the yard, happy to be running free. I watched him for a minute while I prepared myself to have this conversation.

“Do you want a beer?” I asked, turning back toward the kitchen.

“Sure. I think I’m going to need one.”

I handed him a bottle and then sat down at the kitchen table. The living room might have been more comfortable, but at the moment I didn’t want comfort. I wanted to get this over with and see where we stood. “I’m not even sure where to start. I’ve been thinking hard about this, and I keep going back to just after we returned from our trip. But now I think it goes further back than that. Back to when you were shot. The trip was an anomaly. Something out of the ordinary that took us out of the situation that was building for a moment, but didn’t fix anything.”

Frank took a sip of his beer. “You’re right. This does go back to when I was shot. It has nothing to do with you and you being on the job. I want to be clear about that. I love you. I love that you’re an amazing detective. I would never want you to think I didn’t.”

“Then why did you tell me to quit?” I asked.

“You caught me in a bad moment. I was in the middle of a stakeout and hating it. I hadn’t slept well—haven’t slept well since getting shot, but especially since getting Timber, and it was affecting me. I wasn’t actually telling you to quit, I was thinking about quitting myself.”

“So you took it out on me?”

“I’m ashamed of that. I shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have been putting my issues on you. I’ve talked with my therapist about it, and he made me realize I had projected my feelings onto you, and I was pushing you away because I was angry about what I was doing and that you were doing the same job and thriving.”

“I don’t know about thriving, but I do normally love my job. I was just wanting to vent, and you were supposed to be my comfort. Instead I felt like you dropped me off the edge of the cliff.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying really hard to get better. I’ve been to more therapy sessions, and I’ve made some realizations. I can’t keep doing the job I’m doing. I need to make some changes.”

“Changes?” I sucked in a breath, thinking this was it, he was going to break up with me now despite what he’d said.

“With work. I don’t want to stop being a cop. But I do want to stop chasing down perps.”

I frowned. “So what does that mean?”

“There’s an opening in the SMPD CSI department. I’ve got the rank and the knowledge to lead a team, so I’ve applied for it.”

“You’re going to move to the tech side?” I was shocked. “I thought you wanted to go for lieutenant?”

“I do want to move up in rank, and I can still do that on the tech side. So that’s my plan. If I get it, I know I’ll have to take a few classes, up my forensic science knowledge, but it would allow me to keep my pension, and it would eliminate some of the stress I’ve been feeling about being out in the field chasing down perps. And I can still go for my lieutenant rank too, but it will be on the tech side of things.”

“So this whole week, when you’ve been ignoring my calls, you were struggling with this decision and didn’t want to talk to me about it?” My eyes stung with tears.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you, I did, but those times you called, I was on a case and couldn’t talk. And by the time I picked up Timber and finished working with him, it was late, and well, the days just got away from me.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about what you’re struggling with. If we’re going to work, we have to talk to each other, Frank. We have to be each other’s strength. I want to share your burdens. I want to help.”

He smiled and reached for my chair, sliding it closer to his, then leaned in and kissed me. “I’m sorry I didn’t share with you. I should have, and I will be better about it in the future.”

“So what was the case you were working?” I asked.

“Nothing like the one you’re dealing with, but we had a missing four-year-old and seventeen-year-old, dead parents, and connections to a gang from San Francisco that’s been trying to move up the coast. It was stressful.”

“Did you find them?”

“We did, but it didn’t have a good ending. Seventeen-year-old was the perp, killed the parents, ran away with the four-year-old with the help of a cousin who was with the gang. Said they were being abused, but there’s no proof of that.”

“So what are you thinking? They were groomed by the gang?”

“It’s looking that way.” He nodded and finished off his beer. “How’s your case going? I saw Warren’s press conference; you caught the guy?”

“No. Warren made us arrest Gaunt, but he’s not our killer. Found another body this morning, killed while Gaunt was in custody.”

“So you’re still working the case?”

“Yeah.”

“How about we get some dinner and then go outside with Timber. I can show you what we’ve been working on.”

I smiled. “I’d like that.”

Getting up, we found the fixings for scrambled egg sandwiches and then took them out to the patio. After eating, Frank showed me all the commands he’d worked on with Timber for the past week. Timber was a smart little guy and had picked up on them fairly quickly. I was amazed at how patient Frank was with the pup and said as much.

“I’ve been working at it, but I’ll admit there are times he tries my patience, especially at night. He refuses to sleep alone. Has to be in the bed with me. Not going to lie, it’s taken some getting used to, and I’ve not slept well.”

I looked from him to the dog. “He’s going to end up in bed with us again, is that what you’re saying?”

Frank nodded. “Unless you want a hole dug into your wood flooring outside your bedroom door, yeah.”

“Maybe he needs a little more time outside while we go in and enjoy seeing each other again?” I suggested, wrapping my arms around Frank’s middle.

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.” He tilted his face down and kissed me.

I woke up with Timber’s tail across my chin and his hind end on my chest. I traced my eyes over his body to see his head was on Frank’s chest. The pup was stretched out across the two of us. I couldn’t imagine that was comfortable, but apparently to him it was. It was no wonder Frank wasn’t getting good sleep. We needed to figure out a way to get Timber to sleep somewhere else because, as he grew, this was just going to get worse for us.

I reached over and shook Frank’s shoulder as the alarm went off. I couldn’t reach it because of Timber. “Frank?”

He groaned and reached over to the clock. “It can’t be time to get up yet,” he grumbled.

“For me it is. I have to get in to the station.”

“Go shower. I’ll let Timber out and make us some breakfast.”

I leaned closer to him and kissed him, then rubbed Timber’s head, and he looked at me. “You and I are going to have a talk, sir. You can’t keep sleeping like this.”

Timber panted happily at me and then yipped a bark that sounded like the word “yes.”

“No, you can’t. You’re going to get too big, and we won’t be able to breathe.”

He made a sound in his throat like he disagreed.

“No.” I smiled at him. “Come on, get off,” I said, pointing at the floor.

Timber made another sound and bounced his head before pushing on Frank’s chest, standing up and jumping to the floor. He pranced around, turning circles, as Frank got up too.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you outside.” Frank yawned and padded out of the bedroom with Timber dancing along behind him.

I felt lighter than I had when I’d arrived home yesterday. The doubts I’d been having about us had been weighing me down, but now I felt better having talked things out. I knew it might be temporary, and it was still possible that we’d crash and burn, but I was more hopeful.

For now I wasn’t going to borrow trouble. I had more than enough with the case we were on.

24

DE-ESCALATION

MARCY

Tuesday Morning

“Kendrick, Reyes, we’ve got a situation at Pollito’s Deli on South Main, need you to head over there. We’ve got shots fired. Patrol is already en route.”

I stood up and grabbed my purse from my desk drawer.

“Grab vests. I don’t want anyone hurt,” Chenevert added.

Angel and I hurried from the building and out to the car. He opened the back of his SUV, and we grabbed our vests, putting them on before getting in and heading to the scene.

“I wish we’d stop getting sent out on these random calls,” Angel muttered. “I’ll be happy when we’re back to full staff.”

“If we’re ever back to full staff considering they keep cutting the budget.”

“True,” he replied, racing out of the parking lot toward the deli.

We pulled in and saw a dark-skinned man waving a gun around, looking like he was high on something. Patrol had also arrived and were out of their vehicles, their weapons drawn and aimed at the man, who was pacing back and forth in front of the restaurant.

I took in the entire scene, noticing there was broken glass on the ground below the window of the deli, and people were hiding inside. It looked as though nobody had been shot so far, and I wanted to keep it that way. Angel and I moved toward the closest patrol car.

“LAPD! Put down your weapon!” I shouted, my weapon trained on the man as I showed my badge with my left hand.

“Stay the fuck away! They’ll get you! They’re after me! They’re gonna get me!” He fired his weapon in the air, and I realized it was either a low-caliber handgun or possibly even a BB or pellet gun.

“Stand down! Do not fire!” I shouted again, this time to the patrol officers. I didn’t want this to end in a death when I had a feeling this guy wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I decided to try a different tactic. “Sir! Who’s going to get you?” I questioned, trying to sound reasonable.

“What are you doing?” Angel asked as he crouched next to me.

“The aliens! They’re here! They’re here! You can’t take me, assholes!” He shot in the air again.

“Trying to stop anyone from getting hurt,” I muttered.

“And how are you going to do that?” Angel had his eyes on the crazed man.

“Over here!” I called to him, and Angel looked at me like I was nuts. “We’ve got a cloaking device over here; they can’t see us; we’ll protect you,” I said, patting the top of the patrol car, hoping I could get him to stop shooting into the air. I was pretty sure they were BBs or pellets, but I still didn’t want anyone hit with them. Thankfully, most people had scattered long before we’d arrived.

The guy looked around wildly, and then he ran toward me and ducked behind the driver’s door with me. As soon as he reached me, I took the gun away. “Thank fuck! I can’t see them under here.” He began to sob. “They can’t see me, right?”

“Right, yeah, they can’t see you,” Angel said, playing along.

“What’s your name? I’m Marcy; this is Angel.” I was studying him and noticed his pupils were blown. He was high on something that was causing crazy hallucinations.

“Jerome.” His voice was soft.

“Jerome, what kind of drug did you take before the aliens showed up?” I asked as patrol went into the deli to see to the people in there and make sure everyone was okay.

“Just had some Molly, was chillin’ with my boys, an’ then the aliens showed up, an’ we split. Oh shit, are they okay?”

“We’ll check on your friends,” Angel told him. “Where were you when you took the Molly?”

“At my boy’s place, over on Seventy-Seventh Street.”

“Why don’t you get in here, Jerome; it’s got better cloaking coverage,” I said, directing him to the back of the patrol car.

He happily dove into the back seat and ducked down. “Thanks, you’ll check my boys?”

“You got it; we’ll go check them out for you,” Angel assured him before closing the door. He looked at me and shook his head. “A cloaking device? Really?”

I shrugged. “It got him to stop shooting that peashooter at the sky, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but admit it, you didn’t know it was a BB gun.”

“Okay, no, I didn’t until he let me take it from him. I was worried about him shooting at the sky and what I thought were bullets hitting someone.”

“You’re daring, I’ll give you that. It could have gone sideways at any moment if he’d have imagined you were one of the aliens.”

“Yeah, which is why I want to go check his friends, make sure he didn’t hit any of them with that thing. Might not be strong enough to kill anyone, but it could put an eye out.”

“Good point.”

We checked with patrol to make sure no one in the deli was injured. Turned out our guy had been in the deli, thought he saw an alien outside, shot the window as he screamed about aliens and then ran out onto the street to “protect” the people inside. That was when the deli worker called it in.

We eventually found Jerome’s friend’s house, and while they were all high on Molly, nobody was hurt. We took Jerome to the hospital to get him checked out and then to the station to get him booked on charges of disturbing the peace and reckless endangerment of a minor since there were kids in the deli.

Returning to the HSS department, we heard yelling and then noticed Mason Gaunt was shouting at Warren, Robinson and Chenevert. Angel and I stopped in the doorway, unsure if we should intervene.

“Is this what you do? Arrest innocent people for trying to help you solve crimes? It’s no wonder you’re being defunded! You’re a bunch of buffoons!” Gaunt ranted.

“Sir, if you will just calm down,” Warren tried, raising his hands in a placating manner.

“Don’t you tell me to calm down. I’m perfectly calm, and I’m going to sue you for wrongful arrest! Just you watch! These dirtbags get off with no bail after carjacking people or rape, and are back on the streets, but I get locked up and given a five-million-dollar bail! That’s corruption!”

I looked at Chenevert, who was standing next to Robinson, looking cool as a cucumber as though he didn’t care at all that Gaunt was losing his shit on Warren. Robinson looked almost amused at Warren being read the riot act.

I started walking toward them, realizing Angel was right at my side. I knew he’d have my back if necessary.

“You were the one on the news! You told everyone I was the one doing these murders when you knew I wasn’t!”

“Well, I—” Warren started again, his face getting red.

“Mr. Gaunt,” I said from behind him, trying to draw his attention away from Warren. Not that Warren deserved to be free of his wrath, but I didn’t want to give Warren a chance to deflect Gaunt’s ire to me, and Angel and I knew he was half a second from doing just that.

He spun around and huffed. “I’m not mad at you two. You were respectful and treated me fine.” He turned back to Warren. “It’s this guy I want to see fired. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I appreciate the fact you aren’t blaming me or Detective Reyes. We’re all feeling the pressure to catch the Templar killer, and unfortunately Police Chief Warren jumped to conclusions when he ordered your arrest, which were proven incorrect. It was a mistake, and we at the LAPD humbly apologize for that error in judgment, sir.” I flicked my gaze at Warren, daring him to pick apart my statement.

Warren looked like a fish, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

Robinson had to school his expression because I could have sworn that he was about to laugh. I could see the merriment in his eyes.

Chenevert stepped forward, breaking Gaunt’s line of sight to Warren. “Yes, you absolutely have our humble apology, Mr. Gaunt. You didn’t deserve to be treated in such a manner when you merely wanted to help us catch this killer. I do hope you will forgive this error in judgment.”

I tilted my head and looked straight into Gaunt’s face, meeting his gaze. “We very often deal with serial killers who want to play games and send us taunts. Your letters weren’t signed, had no return address, and no fingerprints other than the postal service workers’. So I’m sure you can see how Police Chief Warren jumped to the conclusions he did.”

“Oh. I didn’t consider that when I wrote them. I’m used to dealing with old books, and I have to wear gloves for them, so I didn’t think about not leaving prints as I wrote the letters and mailed them. As to not signing it, well, I wanted to remain anonymous, but then you didn’t listen, so I sent that second one and told you where to find the information. I didn’t think you’d use it to arrest me.”

“So it was a misunderstanding on all accounts,” I said gently.

“I suppose, but he went on camera and told the world I was a serial killer!” He pointed at Warren.

“And he will be holding another press conference to clear that up. I’d imagine the notoriety would actually benefit your particular line of work though, wouldn’t it?” I asked.

Gaunt paused as though thinking about it. “Possibly, but that is not the point.”

“You’re right of course; however, Police Chief Warren will make sure the public knows you are completely innocent and are helping the LAPD to identify the Templar killer, won’t you?” I turned my gaze on Warren.

“Right. Yes, this afternoon. I’ll be clearing your name.”

Mr. Gaunt seemed mollified. “See that you do. No one should have to go through what I did.” He glanced from me to Warren. “I’ll still be speaking to my lawyer about all of this.” Giving me and Angel a nod, he strode out of the room.

“As you were,” Warren muttered, and then stomped away, heading to the elevators down the hall.

Robinson smiled. “Good job de-escalating this and, from what I’m told, earlier at the deli, Kendrick. Ever thought about being a hostage negotiator?”

I shook my head. “Sir, you and I both know I’m a bit too much of a hothead to do that job. The guy high on Molly and the police chief were just lucky I was in a good mood and didn’t want to see any deaths today.”

Angel snickered. “You’re usually the one to pull the trigger first and ask questions later when it comes to a perp with a gun. Surprised the hell out of me today.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” I said with as much snark as I could.

Angel burst out laughing.

I joined in. “Okay, that might be a stretch of the imagination. But I have to keep you on your toes, can’t always be the trigger-happy vigilante cop the press says I am. Need to keep them guessing.”

“Since you’re both here now, how about we head to my office, and you can brief me on what we have so far,” Robinson said with a gesture for us and Chenevert to follow him to his office.

And just like that, it was back to business as usual.

25

BRIEFINGS AND SUGGESTIONS

ANGEL

Tuesday Afternoon

Marcy and I followed the captain and the lieutenant to Robinson’s office. With Gaunt now being cleared of these murders, I wasn’t sure we had much to tell them. Marcy and I had looked at everything about these murders from just about every angle, and we just didn’t have a lot to go on.

As soon as we walked in, I noticed that an additional chair had been brought over near Robinson’s desk so there was enough seating for all of us. It was a little crowded, but it seemed to work. I sat down next to Marcy, and Chenevert sat to my left, closest to the door.

“Tell me about this latest murder; you didn’t give us the details yesterday,” Robinson started.

“We didn’t have much at the time, sir,” Marcy explained. “What we know now is that the victim’s name is Perry Chiu, age thirty-four, married with two kids. We informed the wife yesterday afternoon, found out that Mr. Chiu had been an accountant, but had recently suffered from a brain tumor. He was on disability and pretty much retired. He’d gone to the cemetery Sunday afternoon to put flowers on his family members’ graves and never returned home. We checked the cemetery, but his vehicle wasn’t left there, so we’ve got patrol keeping an eye out for it.”

“And we’ve checked Elysian Park? He didn’t drive there himself?”

“Yes, the park was searched, but his car wasn’t found,” I replied.

“What do we have that might identify the killer?” Robinson inquired. “Is he leaving anything behind?”

“He uses a rowan tree branch to attack the victims,” Marcy continued. “There have been traces of holy oil found in the wounds. He binds them with rope, which in all but the latest victim we’ve found more traces of either holy oil or holy water on. At several of the scenes we’ve found particular symbols that, according to Mason Gaunt, are from something called a demon trap.”

“A demon trap?” Chenevert questioned.

“That was what he said the symbols and placement of them represented. It wasn’t information we’d shared with him or the press before, so he hadn’t known about them, which was why he’d suggested we were looking for someone hunting vampires. He’s changed his theory now and believes we’re looking for someone who thinks they’re killing demons.”

“How does that change anything? Wouldn’t vampires or demons be the same?”

I glanced at Marcy and said, “Not according to Gaunt. But it doesn’t really change anything for us. It doesn’t put us any closer to finding out who this killer is.”

“What about this holy water and oil? Where is the killer getting it?” Chenevert asked. “Have any thefts been reported from any of the Catholic churches?”

“I don’t know. I can look into that,” I replied.

“And what about similar cases from the past. Have you checked these murders against any of the cold files?”

“We haven’t,” Marcy admitted. “Do you think it’s likely?”

“You both know I came from New Orleans, which some like to say is the vampire capital of the world. We had some similar killings down there a decade or two ago. You might check to see if the man who was charged is out on parole. I don’t think he is, but this could be someone picking up where he left off.”

I raised my brows. “You think there might be a connection to a case in New Orleans?”

“I’m just raising possibilities. Y’all are the experts here. I trust if there is a connection, y’all will be the ones to find it.”

“I’ll check that out after I get with Robbery and Homicide about possible thefts at any of the churches,” I said.

“And I’ll keep up the search for the service van and see if we can make any connections between the victims that might lead us to the killer,” Marcy added.

“I’ll let you two get back to it,” Robinson said, dismissing us.

The three of us stood, but Chenevert stayed behind as Marcy and I returned to the detective pool.

I glanced at the clock as my stomach rumbled. “I’m gonna hit the food truck; you want anything?”

“Sure. Surprise me,” Marcy said with a nod.

I split off from her and went outside to see what was available. It looked like the Tropic Truck was here today, so I got us a couple of jerk chicken melts, some angus steak cheesy fries for me and some plain cheesy ones for Marcy, as well as a couple of sodas. Returning to the detective pool, I set her meal on her desk and then went to mine and ate while I called R and H to find out if any thefts had been reported from any of the churches.

“Hey, Jackson, I was hoping you could help me out,” I said into the phone.

“Reyes, what can I do for you?” Keith Jackson asked.

“You’ve heard about these Templar murders?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Right, well, could you tell me if any of the Catholic churches have reported any thefts?” I asked, picking up a fry and twisting it in the cheese before taking a bite.

“I don’t recall anything recently. Let me run a check, and I’ll get back to you, okay?”

“Perfect, thanks.” After hanging up with him, I turned to the computer and started looking into the case that Chenevert had brought up from New Orleans. As I read about the case, it looked like a completely different MO, as the people killed had been stabbed with wooden stakes and burned. There were traces of holy water being used on the victims, but that was really the only thing in common with our victims. No demon traps had been used, and the killer, Adam Ellers, was still in prison, from what I could tell.

Despite that, I called the Louisiana State Penitentiary, Angola. I spoke to the warden and got a list of people who had written to Ellers over the years since his conviction, which had taken place in the early 2000s. It turned out that Ellers had passed away at the prison in 2018, so I knew he couldn’t be our killer, but that didn’t rule out a fan.

The warden gave me the list of names, which they’d kept track of in Ellers’ file. I did searches on all twelve of them, getting backgrounds, addresses, and current whereabouts. By the time I finished with those, I’d been able to rule them all out, and it was time to go home.

“Well, that feels like it was a waste of time,” I said with a sigh.

“Nothing?” Marcy asked as she shut down her computer.

“Three of Ellers’ fans are in the prison system in different states. All for murder, but not in the same manner as Ellers or as our killer. The others are all accounted for and haven’t ever set foot in California, so pretty much a dead end.”

“It was a good idea though. At least Chenevert was trying to help.”

I nodded. It had been a good idea, it would have been better if it had panned out, but that was how these things went sometimes. “Any luck finding the van or a connection between the victims?”

“Not really. Two of them may have attended the same church, another two might have shopped at the same grocery store or worked out at the same gym, but there’s nothing that ties all of them together. Oh, and I checked Lily’s timeline and found the restaurant she ate at in Koreatown, but again, she was the only one eating there on a regular basis. I’m really starting to think these are random. Like the killer has some other reason we can’t see for choosing them.”

“I’ll start on cold cases tomorrow and see if I can find any similar cases.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna follow up with Lindsey on those markings and then head out.” Marcy picked up her phone and called the lab.

I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation since we already knew from Gaunt what they likely were. Still, when she finished and hung up, I said, “Anything new?”

“Tech found the same as what Gaunt told us, which I expected, but just wanted to be sure. Anyway, I’m gonna go.” She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer.

“See you.” I nodded at her, watching her leave.

Despite being off work, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Callie had slowed things down between us since coming back from Mexico, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I liked her a lot, but I wasn’t in love with her. No matter how I tried to fall for her, it just didn’t seem to work. I was pretty sure she picked up on my feelings, and that was why she’d taken this step back. She’d said it was because she was so busy with her shop, doing hair and makeup for all of the homecoming dances, weddings, and Halloween parties, but I had to wonder if it was actually more than that.

I decided I would pick up something for dinner and head home alone. Just as I was about to leave, my desk phone rang. I hesitated, but then grabbed it up. “Reyes.”

“Glad I caught you, man,” Keith Jackson said. “I looked into the thefts for you, but I came up empty. Wherever your guy is getting his supplies, they weren’t stolen from any of the churches, at least none have reported any kind of thefts.”

“Okay, thanks for looking.”

“Sure, no problem. Hey, if you aren’t doing anything after work, a bunch of us are heading to the Short Stop to grab a drink and play some pool.”

It was better than being alone, so I said, “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”

I sent Callie a text, just to let her know I was thinking about her, but she didn’t text me back. With a sigh I headed out to my car and drove to the bar and grill. It wasn’t very busy when I got there, but it was still a bit early.

I didn’t know how many people would show up, so I didn’t bother getting a table. Instead I went to the bar and ordered a beer, burger and fries.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and an arm cross my back. “Hey, been here long?”

I turned to see Jill Rice, and I smiled. “Hey, Jill, how are you?”

“Tired,” she said with a laugh. “It’s been a crazy day. How about for you?” she asked as she waved her hand to get the bartender’s attention.

“Same for us.” I looked around the room. “You here on your own?”

“Oh, no, Keith was right behind me, and a couple of others from the department are coming too. Did you bring Marcy?”

The bartender set my food in front of me and then asked for Jill’s order.

“No, Marcy had already gone for the day by the time Keith called me.”

Jill leaned in and stole one of my fries, and I noticed she was wearing vanilla-scented perfume that smelled really nice. “You don’t mind, do you?” she said, pausing with the fry halfway to her mouth.

“It’s fine. Happy to share,” I replied as I pushed the basket between the two of us.

“Thanks, I skipped lunch. So what’s this case you and Marcy are working on? The Templar murders, right?”

“Yeah, we’re getting nowhere fast with it. I can’t decide if this guy is just that good or that lucky. He’s left us hardly any evidence that would direct us to him, and his victims seem completely random, though we now think we have a motive.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe fresh eyes or, rather, fresh ears”—she pointed to her ears—“might help?”

It was worth a shot, so after moving to a table and away from the bar, I told her about the case and all what we had so far. As I spoke, Keith came in, ordered his drink, and then came over and sat next to Jill as I told her about the case. Keith asked about what religious items we were trying to find the origins of, since I’d asked him to look into thefts, but hadn’t given specifics.

As I tried to remember all the key points of the case, others came in and joined the conversation. A few asked questions, and I had to backtrack to catch them up, but it was good to talk it out with others I could trust not to spill shit to the press.

I ended with, “So that’s where we are. If you have any insights, I’d be happy to hear them.”

“Sounds like whoever you’re dealing with may be mentally unstable,” Jill suggested as she grabbed a couple more fries. “Not just a narcissistic psychopath, but someone with some mental deficiency. Have you contacted the hospital for the criminally insane? Maybe they’ve released a patient recently who had delusions of seeing vampires.”

I hadn’t mentioned the demon trap or the idea that our killer might be hunting demons, and had stuck with what the news had mentioned. “I haven’t tried that. Might be worth a shot, maybe also some of the voluntary mental health facilities… if they can even talk about their patients.”

“If anything, maybe they can give you a profile of your killer,” Keith suggested.

“That’s a good idea, thanks, you two.” I finished my burger and dusted off my hands. “How about some pool?” I suggested with a grin.

26

DEVIANT BEHAVIOR

MARCY

Wednesday

When I walked into the precinct this morning, it was to see Angel already at his desk and on his phone. He covered the mouthpiece and said, “Morning.”

He seemed in a good mood, and I wondered about it. Had he gone out with Callie last night? He hadn’t mentioned having plans, but then I hadn’t asked either. I’d been in a rush to get home because Frank and Timber were coming over.

Frank had been in a great mood because he’d been approved to transfer over to the CSI department. He would be leading his own team of techs and taking a couple of classes to get caught up in all the latest techniques. Jazz, the head of the CSI department, would be mentoring him for a month or so, and then he’d be handling cases on his own with his own team. I was excited for him.

“You’re here early; something up?” I asked.

He held up a finger as he spoke into the phone. “I was hoping you could tell me if you’ve recently released any prisoners who may have suffered from delusions.” He paused and listened for a moment. “No, I understand about HIPPA law, and I’m not asking—” He stopped abruptly and then began again, “Okay, yes, I’m asking, but not because I⁠—”

I wondered whom he’d called. The only thing that came to mind was the facility where Nicholas Pound was being held.

“I understand. Is there a doctor available who might be able to help me build a profile on the person we’re after?” he asked.

It was a good idea, one I should have considered as well. The federal agencies all used profilers when building a case against particular serial killers, and we’d done the same before as well. I just hadn’t considered it in this case. I sat down and started writing down what we knew about our killer so far. It wasn’t much. A possible white man, drove a van, apparently thought he was killing demons or vampires.

“Yes, I would be happy to meet with Dr. Blakenridge this afternoon. I’ll be there at two,” Angel said and then hung up.

“You’re looking to set up a profile? Was that the state hospital for the criminally insane?”

He nodded. “Jill and Keith gave me the idea to check in with them. They couldn’t tell me about any specific patients, but they did say they haven’t released anyone in the last eight months, so our killer probably isn’t a former inmate.”

“When did you talk to Jill and Keith?”

“Met up with them and a few others last night at the Short Stop.”

“Oh, you and Callie?”

“No, just me. Callie was working late again.”

I paused at that because his tone was indifferent, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was good. We talked, played some pool, had dinner and drinks. I showed Jill how to hit a corner shot, but she hustled me.” He laughed and shook his head. “Took twenty bucks off me.”

“I’m glad you had fun. Do you want me to go to this meeting with you?”

“If you want to. I still need to let Chenevert know about it, so if you’re going⁠—”

“Actually, I was thinking of revisiting the murder sites. See if I can pick up anything we missed.”

“That might be good. Maybe you’ll notice something that ties them all together.”

“Or maybe I’ll get lucky, and the killer will return to the scene.”

“I doubt it, but I guess it’s worth a shot, right?”

After speaking to Chenevert, Angel went back to searching through the cold files while I returned to the first scene. I pulled up to the warehouse and nodded at the on-site security guard as I headed into the building. It seemed after Gamble’s murder, the owner had stepped up their security. I was glad to see it.

A moment later, the guard came over to me. “Excuse me, but the owner wants to know when he’ll be able to use this warehouse again.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Soon, I’d imagine.” I walked toward the barrel where Gamble had been drowned. The cross was gone, of course; we had it in evidence, along with pictures of the symbols drawn on the floor. I walked around them, looking at each one, trying to make a connection, but not seeing anything. I finished searching the room, but I didn’t find anything the CSI team had missed.

From there I went to Lily Ogata’s death site at Angelus Rosedale Cemetery. We still had the area where Lily died roped off, and there were people lingering nearby who seemed to be interested in it. I watched each of them, wondering if one of them was the killer.

There was a young couple dressed in all black who held my interest for a moment, but not because they were possible suspects. They just seemed oddly out of place. I moved toward them and held up my badge. “Why are you here?”

The young woman held up her hands and took a step back. “Just visiting, you know? It’s kinda cool standing close to where she was whacked. I mean a serial killer was here. In this very spot. That’s, like, epic.”

“Totally epic,” the guy repeated.

I gritted my teeth. Horror movies had ruined people and made this kind of deviant behavior seem normal. “Her death isn’t your entertainment. Leave,” I ordered, even though I didn’t really have the authority to do that.

“You can’t tell us what to do, bitch.” He stepped into my personal space, getting mouthy.

The problem was, he had the size to back up his words. Suddenly I was imagining him with a rolled-up carpet and a body inside. He’d be able to do that with ease. I could also see him capable of tying people onto crosses and to cinder blocks to drown them.

“Back off,” I said, holding my ground.

“Make me,” he challenged.

I started throwing verbal daggers at him. “If you’re looking to be arrested, I can arrange that. Maybe you’re the killer I’m looking for. Is that why you’re here? Did you come back to the scene of the crime to get your jollies? Did you bring her? Are you planning to do the same to her?”

The guy’s face went white, and I wondered if that meant I was right. He started to back up, then looked for his girl, but she’d already taken off when I mentioned arresting them.

He met my gaze. “You’ve got no right to⁠—”

“Want to bet on that?” I interrupted.

The more he spoke, the more the idea settled in my brain that he could be the killer I was looking for. He was white, strong enough to move a body, and creepy enough too. All I really needed to know was if he had access to a white service van. I was sure he probably did.

“In fact, you’re under arrest—” I began.

But before I could finish, he turned and began to run through the cemetery.

I took off after him, but I wasn’t dressed for it. I’d worn a skirt and my flats instead of tennis shoes, which I normally hated to do, but I’d been thinking that I wouldn’t be chasing suspects today and that it might be a nice change. I hadn’t even put on my vest. He had a good lead on me, and his legs were longer, so I was falling behind.

I tried to pick up speed, but I was failing. And then I tripped over something immovable in the dirt, and the ground came up to meet me. I slammed hard into it, barely missing hitting my head on a gravestone as the breath was knocked from me. By the time I looked up, the man was gone.

As I pushed myself up, I wondered if I’d really just encountered our killer or not. He didn’t seem intelligent enough to be the Templar murderer, but I could be wrong. And what about the young woman? Where did she fit into all of this? Were we all wrong? Was this a pair of killers, not just one?

I needed to talk to Angel and Chenevert as soon as possible. And I needed to catch the guy I’d just encountered, though, now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure he and his girl weren’t our perps. I was tired, stressed and at a loss, so I was feeling paranoid. Though I figured I should call it in anyway. Still sitting on the ground, I pulled my phone from my purse, which I’d tossed on crosswise, so it had stayed with me as I ran. I gave dispatch a description of the young man I’d been chasing and of his companion and then looked at my left ankle. It was starting to swell.

“Well, that’s great,” I muttered as I stood up on my good foot. I hobbled back to the cemetery entrance and to my car and then drove back to the precinct. By the time I reached the detective pool, my ankle was the size of a baseball.

“What happened?” Angel immediately asked as he jumped up and came around to help me.

“I was chasing a possible suspect, and I tripped over a broken tombstone. It was just a chunk about this big”—I made the approximate size with my hands—“sticking out of the ground, and I didn’t see it.”

“Let me get you some ice.” Angel ran toward the break room. He returned less than a minute later with a baggy full of ice cubes. “Here, prop your foot up on my chair.” He pulled it over next to mine and gently picked up my foot, putting it on the seat, then adding the bag of ice to it.

“Thanks, Angel.” I smiled at him. “Any luck with the cold cases?”

“No, but I did go see Dr. Blakenridge. He said we’re probably looking for a white male, between the ages of twenty-eight and forty-five, physically fit. Someone who may have recently suffered some kind of trauma that has triggered a hallucinogenic state where they are seeing demons or vampires.”

“But why are they killing? Wouldn’t any normal person who went through trauma and started seeing things go to a doctor?”

“Apparently not. A lot of people who suffer things like this aren’t aware that it’s all in their heads. They think the other person is the problem and getting rid of them will fix it.”

“So how does this help us?” I asked, looking up at him.

“He said this person is probably an introvert, keeps to themselves. Probably does manual labor or a job that keeps them pretty solitary. No close family or friends, because one of them would have noticed if the person was acting in a bizarre manner.”

“Then the service van could be a work vehicle for whoever is doing this. If they are someone who does manual labor. The question is what kind?”

“Could be anything from a plumber or electrician to a janitor or even a gardener or landscaper.”

“Now there’s an idea… maybe our victims shared a landscaper?”

Angel frowned. “I doubt it. Lily lived in an apartment, and Carla lived at UCLA.”

“Well, shoot.” I sighed. “There has to be a connection somewhere, and we’re just not seeing it. Let’s keep digging.”

27

TIMELINE SHIFT

MARCY

Thursday

No matter what angles we tried, we couldn’t find the connection between the victims. Even with the killer profile, we couldn’t make anything fit. Patrol never did locate my possible suspect, but back at the precinct as I’d listened to Angel give me Dr. Blakenridge’s profile of the killer, I’d started to think the couple I’d encountered were just horror fans who’d got in my way and didn’t want to be arrested.

My ankle was still tender, but at least it wasn’t swollen anymore. Frank had made me keep it elevated all night, which was difficult with Timber on the bed because he kept ramming into the pillows my foot was propped on, thinking it was a game.

We also hadn’t been able to convince him that sleeping in the bed was off-limits because no matter what we did, he somehow always ended up in the bed with us by morning. We’d tried putting his dog bed next to our bed, on Frank’s side, on my side, at the foot, it didn’t matter, he would end up between us every time. And I could swear he’d grown a foot and a half over the last week. Or maybe it just seemed that way when he stretched out in the middle of the bed. At least he’d taken to actually lying on the mattress and not us, so I counted that as a win.

I set a coffee and a box of beignets on Angel’s desk. “Good morning.”

Angel looked up from his phone, but didn’t crack a smile. “Hey.”

I sat down and rolled my chair over to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Callie broke up with me.”

“Why?” I asked in surprise. They’d seemed so happy when they’d been over the day that we picked up Timber.

“She said we just weren’t right for each other. She liked me, but she wasn’t in love with me.” He sighed. “My fault, I think. I held myself back from her. And then there was the way my family treated her… I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Oh, Angel, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

He stared into space for a moment and then looked over to me. “Yeah, I think I am.” He nodded and then shifted his gaze to his desk, seeing the box and cup sitting there. “You brought me breakfast?”

“I did.” I grinned.

“Thanks, Marce.”

“So what are we—” I started as Chenevert strode up to us. I glanced up and said, “Sir?”

“I don’t know if this is one of the Templar’s murders or not, but a body was just found at the landfill with a stake in their heart. Figured you two might want to head over there and check it out rather than me giving it to someone else?”

I jumped up from my chair and quickly regretted it as my ankle crumpled, and I sat back down hard. It took my breath away, so I nodded.

“Are you okay, Kendrick?”

“Yep. Fine. Just tweaked it again. I’ll be okay in a second.”

“I’ll make sure she’s careful, sir,” Angel said, holding my arm so I’d have support as I stood up again, slowly this time.

“I’m sending you the coordinates now,” Chenevert said with a furrowed brow. His eyes were on me, as if he was making sure I wasn’t going to collapse again.

“You’d better drive,” I said to Angel as we walked out of the detective pool.

We arrived at the landfill and then followed the path until we found the crime scene. Lindsey and her team were already here along with Damien. “What have we got?” I asked as I slowly walked toward them.

Angel had stayed at my side, his hand just under my elbow in case I needed assistance. I was lucky to have him as my best friend and partner. “Do we know who he is?” he asked, his eyes now on the desiccated corpse that had been exposed.

“No wallet,” Lindsey said. “We’ll have to try to get his prints, if that will be possible given the state of decay, or maybe try dental records.”

“Who found him?” I asked, looking around.

“Jesse Fuller, he’s over there,” Min-Ji Kim replied.

Julie looked up. “He was here collecting scrap iron and came across the body.”

“Well, he obviously wasn’t killed recently, so how long do you think he’s been here, Damien? Was he killed here?”

“I’d say a few weeks at least, judging by the state of the body. I’ll know more after the autopsy. I’m not sure if he was killed here or not; all that rain may have washed away any evidence of that happening here.”

I’d forgotten about the rainstorm we’d had recently. I looked over at Lindsey with pleading eyes. “Think you can find anything that will help us determine if he was killed here or not?”

Lindsey shrugged. “I’ll do my best, but I make no promises.”

“So are we thinking this is definitely the Templar killer?” Angel asked Damien.

“I’d say the chances are likely, given he’s been stabbed Van Helsing style right in the heart. Again, I’ll know more once I have him back at my lab.”

“Then we’ll leave you to it,” I replied. Glancing at Angel, I said, “Let’s go talk to Mr. Fuller.”

We didn’t learn much from Mr. Fuller. He’d been at the landfill collecting scrap metal, something he did several times a week with permission from the owners. He’d shifted a couple of things in that area, and the withered body had slid down into the open. When he realized it wasn’t a dummy, but a real person, he’d called the cops.

“You realize this changes our timeline by a lot, right?” I said once we were back at our desks.

“Yeah, this man was definitely killed before Edward Gamble. Now the question is, was he the first Templar murder?”

“Crap, there could be others out there we haven’t found yet,” I muttered, thinking about how much I hated the nicknames the press gave these killers. I still used them occasionally too just because it was easier, but that didn’t make me like them.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“We should be looking at missing persons,” I replied after a moment of thought.

“Yeah, but what do we look for? This killer doesn’t have a type, at least not one we can see.”

“True. At least let’s see if there’s an open missing person file from a month or so ago.”

Twenty minutes later we had several case files for men who had gone missing over the last month, and were heading down to the morgue because Damien had something for us. I was going through a couple of the files as we walked to the elevator. “This one says he’s been missing for a few weeks now. Last time he was seen was by a co-worker at his job.”

“Where did he work?” Angel asked as we rode the elevator.

“A bar in Skid Row.” I opened another folder. “This one is from two weeks ago, missing from his home in Huntington Park… oh wait, I don’t think it’s this guy; says he’s three hundred and ten pounds. I don’t think that body was that big.”

“Doubtful,” Angel agreed.

We found Damien waiting for us, the body on display on the lab table.

“What have you got?” Angel asked.

“And hello to you too.” Damien smirked. “Okay, so… I know you’ve been hoping for a connection between this guy here and the others, and I can tell you they absolutely are connected. Let me show you.” He lifted the head and turned it. “See this?”

There was a contusion on the back of the head. “He was hit from behind?”

“With a piece of rowan wood. Diameter even matches the others.” He smiled. “Am I good or what?”

“You’re something all right,” I teased. “Anything else?”

“The embedded part of the stake had traces of holy oil on it. Exact same formula as the others.”

“So he’s definitely this guy’s earliest kill,” Angel replied.

“Looks that way,” Damien said. “If I find anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know. We’ve got impressions of the teeth, and Lindsey is working on fingerprints.”

“She was able to get some?” I asked.

“Well, after we inflated the fingers, yeah.”

I shuddered. “Good luck with that.” I couldn’t imagine some of the things Damien and Lindsey had to do to get us the evidence we needed to solve cases. And now Frank would be doing that same thing. My thoughts drifted back to the body and how we might never have known about him if Jesse Fuller hadn’t been looking for scrap metal.

As we made our way back to the elevator, I stopped, but Angel kept walking. Something had just occurred to me. “Why was he hidden?”

Angel pushed the button for the elevator to descend. “What do you mean?” he asked as I joined him.

“All the others, they were pretty much out in the open, found hours after death, but this man, who was his first, was hidden. Why?”

The elevator doors dinged open, and we stepped on. “That’s a really great question.”

“And I want to know the answer to it,” I replied. “Think about it, why would you hide one body but not the others?”

Angel and I stood quiet in the elevator, but right as the doors opened, we both said, “They knew each other.”

28

VICTIM IDENTIFIED

MARCY

Friday

Ihad three missing person files that could possibly match our victim. They were all men ranging from age twenty-seven to thirty-five. The first man was the youngest and a drug addict who’d left mandatory drug rehabilitation. His parents had filed the report. He’d been missing for three weeks. The second was a thirty-one-year-old male who worked for Power Electric and had been missing for five weeks. His wife had filed the report. She was pregnant and due any time, so I really hoped it wasn’t him. The third was thirty-five; he’d been missing for about a month and worked for the Catholic church in the archdiocese office. When he didn’t appear at work, one of his co-workers went to check on him, but couldn’t find him, and after three days they’d filed the report, as he had no family other than the church.

I’d narrowed it down to these three as I drank my coffee at my desk. I glanced up as Angel walked in. “Take a look at these three,” I said, handing him the files.

Angel sat down and opened each one, looking at the pictures and reading the descriptions. “It could be any of them.”

I grimaced. “Darn, I was hoping you’d see something that I didn’t.”

“I think we’re just going to have to wait for Lindsey or Damien.”

I didn’t have any choice but to agree. However it wasn’t until well after lunch that we got the call. “And you’re sure it’s him?” I asked Lindsey.

“The prints match, and we verified it with dental records. It’s definitely him.”

“That’s great. Thanks, Linds.” I hung up, grabbed the three files, and pulled out the right one. “James Hillier.” I handed Angel the file. “Lindsey just confirmed it.”

“So the one who worked for the church?”

“That’s the one.” I nodded.

“What church was it again?” He flipped open the file. “So it was the archdiocese that he worked for, but that’s not far from Basil Parish, which was where Carla was the night she died. It’s not an exact match, but Basil Parish is one of the churches in the archdiocese.”

Even though we were closer than we were before, we still didn’t know who was behind these killings. I hoped we would soon find out.

Angel and I had gone to talk to the church personnel and informed them of James’ death. They had all been heartbroken to hear it.

I was mentally exhausted by the time I got home. I wasn’t expecting Frank to be there, but he was, and it was my lucky night because he’d even cooked dinner for me. Since making the switch to the CSI team, he’d been in a much better mood, and we’d been in a better place.

“How was work?” he asked. “Catch any bad guys?”

“Spent most of the day doing legwork. We’re getting closer though. Lindsey was able to get prints from the body, so we identified our victim. It gave us a tie to the Catholic church. So that’s an angle we’re going to follow.”

“That’s good at least, right?”

I wrapped my arms around his middle while Timber wound his way between our legs. “It is. How about you? How was your day?”

“Not bad. I like my team. I think this is going to work out.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You do seem much more relaxed.”

He grinned and leaned down to kiss me. “I am. And I’ve been thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

Laughing, he said, “Ha-ha, you’re so funny.” He moved back toward the stove to stir the food in the pan.

“So what were you thinking?”

“Not sure I want to tell you now,” he teased.

“Now who’s being funny?”

“Okay. I was thinking maybe once you solve this crazy case, we go away for a weekend.”

“Go away where?”

That was one of the things I’d learned about Frank. He liked to get away from the city as often as possible. I didn’t mind. I’d always enjoyed traveling, and as long as it wasn’t too far to drive, or it was maybe a short plane ride, I would be happy to go.

“I’m not sure yet. I wanted to see what your thoughts were. I thought we might plan it together.”

“Yeah, okay, I’d like that,” I agreed.

We sat down at the kitchen table with Timber on the floor between us. Every now and then I’d see Frank drop a piece of meat down to him, and I’d shake my head at him. “You’re spoiling him.”

“It’s not like I’m giving him chocolate. It’s meat. Which is good for dogs.” He looked down at Timber. “Right, Timber?”

Timber barked and wagged his tail.

“You’re incorrigible.” I grinned and took another bite of my food. “So what kind of place were you thinking of?”

“Maybe somewhere on the coast that might also have hiking, some place that Timber could come with us.”

“So stay in California, right, not Oregon or Washington?”

“I don’t think we’d have time to go to Oregon or Washington, so something within driving distance. We could leave on a Friday after work, then have Saturday and most of Sunday before we had to be back.”

“I like that idea. Are we looking at driving or flying?” I asked.

“Either. If we’re going to drive, I’d say no more than a three-hour drive. But flying would get us further.”

“That gives us quite a few options, then.” I sat thinking about it as I finished my dinner. “South or north?”

“I’m good with either. If we had more time, I’d say let’s go down to Mexico, maybe to Cancun, but a weekend isn’t really enough time.”

“We could go to San Diego if we went south.”

“That’s an idea.” Frank nodded, pushing his plate away.

“You don’t sound all that keen on it.”

“We’ve got time to decide; you still have to solve this case. And I want to look at all the options before we come to a decision.”

I thought about the victim we’d just identified. “Speaking of the case, you know this last victim we uncovered?”

“Yeah, you said they were connected to the Catholic church?”

“Mmmhmm. He was the office manager at the archdiocese. He was actually the first victim, or at least the first that we know of. The thing is… all the others were pretty much out in the open, but James’ body was hidden. Why would he do that?”

“What’s your working premise? What do you think your killer’s motives are?”

“He’s killing them as if they are demons or vampires. At least that’s how he’s making it look. I don’t know if he actually believes that’s what they are, which would make him mentally ill, or if he’s just psychotic and trying to make it look like these people aren’t human so he can plead insanity when he gets caught.”

“If he actually believes they are vampires, then maybe he thinks leaving them out in the open as he’s done will show the world what they are.”

“Right, but then explain him hiding the first body. My thought was maybe there is a connection between James and the killer.”

“So he was hidden because you’d be able to identify the killer if you found him, is that what you’re thinking?”

“Yes. We haven’t done a lot of background yet on James; we’ll start that tomorrow.”

Frank’s brow furrowed. “It wouldn’t make sense for him to be proud of what he’s doing. Hiding the first body but not the rest isn’t about pride, then. It isn’t about putting them on display. Maybe, if he thinks he’s hunting vampires or demons and he’s just pretty much leaving them where he kills them, maybe he did the same with the first. Left him where he killed him, but being a landfill, things get shifted.”

“You mean he wasn’t meant to be hidden? It was just an accident that he was?”

“It’s a possibility. I’m not saying your killer didn’t intentionally hide him, that’s possible too, but it doesn’t make sense him doing so unless, as you said, they have some connection.”

“That gives me a few things to think about, then. I guess we’ll have to see what we uncover when we look into James’ life.”

We talked a little more about Timber and his training, and then Frank got up and cleared our plates, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher. “Wanna go for a run with me and Timber?”

“I’d love to,” I replied, getting up. “Just let me go change.”

“Don’t ever change, TT. I love you just the way you are,” Frank replied.

Later that night, I woke up feeling hot and sweaty. I didn’t know what I had been dreaming, but it had left me with a peculiar thought. Something Angel had said before we’d left for the day. Something about the church.

I searched my mind, trying to recall exactly what it was. Something about one of the other victims. Or was it two? That was it. Carla had been at Basil Parish the day she died, but that wasn’t what had woken me. It was the fact that Lily Ogata attended that church regularly as well.

Was the church the key to solving this whole thing?

29

NARROWING THE FIELD

ANGEL

Saturday

My phone rang, playing “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen. I glanced at the clock to see it was barely six a.m. I picked up the phone and tapped the green phone icon. “Morning, Marce, I thought we weren’t going in until nine?”

“I know, but I’ve been up for a couple of hours. I had an idea about the case, and I thought we could go and check it out this morning.” I could hear water running in the background, and then a couple of barks came across the line, and she told Timber to shush.

“Sure, want me to pick you up?”

“That’ll work. Frank’s headed back to Santa Monica in a bit; he’s got some training scheduled.”

“Training? For the dog?” I wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

“Oh, no. I guess I didn’t tell you. Frank’s moved from Homicide to CSI. He’s going to lead his own team.”

I was stunned. That wasn’t something I’d seen Frank doing, but then it wasn’t that he couldn’t. I just thought he’d move up in rank and eventually hit captain someday. Of course, so much had changed for him recently, and then getting shot, I supposed it made sense that he’d want to do something else. “Um, that’s great. So he’s got training for CSI?”

“Yep. And no quips about Gil Grissom or bugs…” she said with a laugh.

I couldn’t help but tease her a little bit. “I’d say he’s more like Horatio Caine than Gil Grissom.”

“You did not just say that. I’m hanging up now,” she deadpanned.

Laughing, I said, “I’ll see you in thirty,” and hung up.

Thinking about it, I wasn’t wrong. Like Frank, Horatio Caine had worked as a homicide detective before moving over to the CSI side of things. Though, unlike those shows, our CSI teams didn’t jump into action the way Caine often did. They solve; we catch. I wondered if Frank was just tired of getting shot at and that was why he made the move. It wasn’t one I thought I’d ever consider.

Honestly, if I wasn’t a homicide detective, I had no idea what I would do. Certainly wouldn’t be tech work. I just hoped I’d never have to find out. I loved my job, and I couldn’t see leaving this line of work any time soon.

I was out the door within fifteen minutes. I decided to go through the coffee shop drive-thru before picking up Marcy. I was hungry and needed the caffeine. I bought extra for her, her favorite coffee drink and a chocolate-filled croissant.

“You’re late,” Marcy said as she pulled open the door.

“By two minutes, but I come bearing gifts.” I pointed to the bag on her seat.

“You’re forgiven. Give me a second.”

She partially closed the door and walked over to Frank, who was at the driver’s door of his truck with Timber on his leash. I watched her lean into him, and he kissed her on the cheek. She reached down to pet Timber and then smiled as Frank boosted the dog into the truck. She came back over and reopened the door.

“I’ll be there later this afternoon,” she said.

“Be safe. Love you,” Frank replied.

“Love you too,” Marcy said just before getting in, moving the bag as she sat. She closed the door and buckled herself in, then opened the bag. “You’re an angel.”

“Well, that’s what they say,” I answered, giving her a wink. I glanced at Frank, who was watching us through the windshield, and nodded to him. I lifted my hand, waving a bit, and he did the same. “So where to, your highness?”

“The archdiocese office.”

“Okay, want to clue me in?”

“I think our killer is connected to the parish. I don’t know how yet, but that’s what I’m aiming to discover.”

It didn’t take us long to get there. We parked in the archdiocese parking lot and headed for the office. Before we entered, I glanced at Marcy and smiled. “You’ve got chocolate on your face.”

“What? Where?” She stopped and started licking her lips.

I shook my head, still smiling as I reached for her face and ran my thumb over the corner of her mouth. “There. All gone.”

Her eyes met mine, and she took a step backward. “Thanks,” she said, her fingers going over the spot I’d just wiped.

“No problem. Let’s go in,” I replied, opening the door as I tamped down the flare of feelings that had rushed to the surface of my heart.

Ever since Callie had broken up with me, I’d spent more time thinking about Marcy. I knew she was in a good relationship and that we’d never be more than best friends, but that didn’t stop the feelings. The only thing that would do that would be moving on. I needed to get back out there and date someone else. Maybe I’d do what Marcy did and look for another cop to date. Jill’s face floated through my mind, and I wondered if she was single.

“Good morning, how may I help you?” a woman seated at the front desk said. Her name plate said her name was Amanda Shore.

“Detectives Kendrick and Reyes,” Marcy said, indicating who was who, “we were hoping to speak to someone about James Hillier.”

“Oh, yes. So tragic, I can’t believe he’s gone. He was such a nice man.” The young woman got teary-eyed. “What would you like to know?”

“You said he was a nice man, was he well liked?”

“Yes, very much so. People loved James. He was a good boss, always kind and fair.”

“No disgruntled employees who might want to harm him?” I asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. Why, do you think someone who works here did that to him?” Amanda looked appalled.

“Of course not. We’re just looking to see who all was in his life, if he had any enemies, that sort of thing.”

She seemed slightly mollified at that. “I can’t believe anyone would intentionally hurt James.”

Marcy nodded and then asked, “There was something else I was curious about. Have you experienced any thefts here or within the diocese?”

“Well, it does happen occasionally. People in need often take things without asking, but we never hold that against them.”

“Right, but have there been any unusual thefts over the last month or two?”

“Well, there was one thing that seemed odd.” Amanda frowned. “It could have been misplaced and not stolen. So I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“What was it?”

“Father Abrahams over at Basil Parish put in an invoice for more holy oil about two weeks after Father Jacob had been resupplied. With Father Jacobs in the hospital, it’s hard to say if the original order was just missing or if it was stolen.”

“I’m sorry to hear your priest is in the hospital; is he going to be all right?”

“I’ve been told he’s recovering, but he had a massive heart attack, and he is pretty old. He’s sixty-three, you know? That’s older than my grandpa.”

I blinked at Amanda. I supposed since she was in her early twenties, sixty-three was pretty old. “Has anything else gone missing?” I asked.

“Not from here that I’m aware of. You might check with the other churches though.”

“Thanks, we will. There was something else I wondered. Did James attend church here, or…”

“He attended Basil Parish most Sundays. Sometimes he’d go to Our Lady of the Angels.”

“Could we get a list of all the employees who work here? Do you know if any of them have connections with some of the other churches in the parish?”

“Oh, sure, there’s quite a few who do. Gardeners, maintenance workers, some of the people who work with the charities…”

“Perfect, that’s the list I’m after,” Marcy replied.

“It’s going to be a minute.” Amanda began to type on the computer, compiling the list for us.

“We’ll wait.”

It was much longer than a minute. Eventually she got up and walked over to the printer, which was spitting out page after page. She waited for it to finish, pulled the paper from it, and stacked it, then handed it to Marcy. “That’s everybody.”

I knew it was going to take us hours to go through the list, and it could all just be a wild-goose chase. “Thanks,” I muttered.

Marcy flipped through it, glanced back to her and smiled. “Appreciate it. We’ll let you get back to work now.”

I followed her out to the car. “So now what? Please don’t tell me we’re going to visit every name on that list.”

“No. Now we go to Basil Parish.” She looked over the list as she spoke. “We’ll see if we can narrow down this list while we’re there. Then we’ll get working on it on Monday.”

My shoulders relaxed, and I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Basil Parish, which was just up the street on Sixth. It took less than five minutes for us to get there. I parked, and we went searching for Father Abrahams again.

We found him in his office. “Well, good morning, Detectives. How might I be of service to you today?” he asked.

“Good morning, Father, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Marcy answered.

“Good morning, Father.” I glanced at Marcy. This was her show, and she hadn’t shared any of the questions she wanted answered, so I waited.

“We were hoping to speak to you about some missing holy oil,” she said.

“Oh? How did you know about that?”

“We were speaking with Amanda Shore over at the archdiocese office. She said you reordered shortly after an order had already been sent over?”

“We did, yes, but it’s possible it’s just been misplaced.”

“Have you looked for it?” I asked.

He nodded. “We have, and we have yet to come across it. Why are you interested?”

“We’re interested because the person who’s behind these murders has been using holy oil and baptismal water in these ritual killings.”

Father Abrahams’ face went white as a sheet. “I see. Then perhaps it was stolen after all.”

“Do you know when?”

“I could not say for sure, but it was shortly after Father Jacobs had his heart attack. So perhaps a month or so?”

“And what about the baptismal water? Are you missing any?”

“That one is hard to say. We did have an anomaly occur with our baptismal pool’s cleaning schedule. It’s normally cleaned every other week, but around that same time, it had been drained and cleaned on the off week.”

“Who would know how to do that sort of thing?” Marcy asked, glancing at the stack of names in her hand.

“It’s a lengthy list, I’m afraid. Any number of volunteers, maintenance personnel, even some of the landscapers know how.”

“Do you by chance have a computer list of those individuals?”

“I’m sure there’s a file somewhere. I’ll see if I can get someone to find it for you.”

“That would be great,” Marcy replied.

“Father, has anything else odd gone missing from your church?” I asked.

“We do have an unaccounted-for cross that has been missing for some time now.” He nodded. “It’s quite pretty, but we don’t typically display it.”

“It wouldn’t have been made of iron, would it?” I asked.

“Indeed it was. Have you found it?”

“Not exactly, but if we do come across it, we’ll be sure to get it back to you.”

“That would be most appreciated. Now let me see about finding someone to help us get that list.”

When we finished up at the church, I dropped Marcy at her house and then headed home myself. I decided I would take care of the yard work, and then after showering, I got dressed and drove over to the Short Stop. It was lonely at home, and I knew that Marcy and Frank were in Santa Monica tonight, so I figured I’d watch the Chargers game at the bar.

Walking in, I saw Jill Rice seated with a couple of other women. She was wearing a number 10 LA Chargers jersey with the name Herbert on the back. I smiled when I saw it. Instead of going over, I headed for the bar and sat down.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Corona, and can I get a cheeseburger and fries?”

“I’ll have that out to you soon.”

I gave him a nod and then glanced over my shoulder toward the women. They were drinking wine, and a plate of nachos sat in the center of the table as they chatted. The game wasn’t on yet, but given that all of them were wearing LA Chargers gear or colors, I was pretty sure they were here to watch the game.

I turned my back to them as the bartender brought my beer over. The TVs were all set to the pre-game coverage, so I listened to it while I drank my beer. When my food came out, the bartender asked if I’d like another, and since I knew I’d be here for a while, I agreed. I’d switch to soda after this. I wasn’t a big drinker.

Just as I was about to pick up my burger, a delicate hand slipped under my arm and snitched a handful of fries. I turned to see Jill smirking at me. “I saw that.”

“I would hope so, Detective, considering it is your job to detect things.” She laughed.

“I could have you arrested. Not going to look good, Detective Rice, being brought up on French fry theft.”

She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head at me. “Maybe we can work out some sort of plea deal?”

I lifted my Corona and took a swallow. It had been a while since I’d flirted with anyone. I set the beer down and looked at her. “I’m sure we can.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. “So what brings you here this evening, Reyes?” she asked, her blue eyes sparkling.

“The game, but I’m pretty sure it’s not going to hold my attention as much as you in Josh Herbert’s jersey.”

Her grin widened for a moment, and then, with a more serious face, she said, “So no girlfriend tonight?”

“No girlfriend anymore. We broke up.”

“Did you now?” Her eyes raked over me, and I could feel her interest.

“Su pérdida, mi ganancia,” she murmured, touching my forearm.

Her perfect Spanish accent as she’d said her loss, my gain had me arching a brow at her. I had to admit, it was sexy falling from her lips. “You speak fluent Spanish?”

She shrugged, and a teasing look was in her eyes. “Maybe. You’ll have to do a little detective work to find out for sure, Reyes.” She grinned.

I glanced over to the women she’d been with. “They going to be upset if I interrogate you during the game?”

“They’ll get over it,” she replied.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

30

NOT HER

DEMON SLAYER

Saturday Evening

Isat in the pew, praying after Mass. I hadn’t seen any demons in almost a week. I knew though that it wouldn’t last. Not since I’d slayed the first one had they stopped appearing. It seemed our city was teeming with them, which was understandable with so much sin going on here. Everywhere, really. But God had warriors like me to help even the balance.

He’d called on me to take on these demons, and I was determined to do what was necessary to save as many souls as I could. I hated the loss of life, but knowing I was saving souls eased the ache in my heart. They were all in a better place now, seated at Jesus’ side. They were the lucky ones. They’d gotten eternal life while I remained here doing God’s work, but I wasn’t upset about that. I felt blessed.

Of all the people He could have called on to do this work, He’d chosen me. Just as He’d called on David, a mere shepherd boy, to slay Goliath and lead His people. Perhaps I too would be as blessed as David was. I still had work to do, to prove myself worthy of His blessings though.

I realized that I needed to be mindful, to pay attention so that I wouldn’t miss when the next demon showed its wicked face. I would cast it out and free the soul, just as Jesus had done. Of course, Jesus had saved the body as well, but He was the Christ Lord and had power that I didn’t possess. And God wasn’t calling me to save the bodies, only the souls.

“Thank You, dear Lord, for all Your blessings and Your sacrifice,” I murmured, “amen.”

I rose from the pew and walked down the aisle before Father Abrahams began asking people to leave so he could close up the church. There was still thirty minutes before he’d do so, but I didn’t want him to be concerned with me. I pushed open the church door and went down the steps.

“Brother!”

The voice was familiar, and I turned to see my sister, Anna, hurrying toward me. I hadn’t seen her in weeks despite the fact we shared a house. She worked a lot at the hospital. She was a kind-hearted young woman, always had been. I admired her devotion to her patients.

“Anna, did you have the night off?” I asked as she approached me.

“I’ve been searching for you for days. Where have you been?” Her hands were on her hips as she stared at me.

“What do you mean? I’ve been home or at work… I’m not missing.”

“I know that. I know you’ve been home, but never when I am, and I’ve been worried about you. I got a call from the pharmacy. You haven’t picked up your medication. It’s been three weeks.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let me drive you home,” she insisted. “I’ll make your favorite dinner. Spaghetti.”

“I’d like that,” I replied, getting into her car.

At the house, I decided to take a shower; it had been a while since I’d had one. I finished in the bathroom, looked at my pills and then into the mirror. I was fine. I opened the bottle and looked in it. My mind drifted as I leaned toward the faucet and scooped some water into my mouth. Standing back up, I put the lid back on the bottle and set it aside. I got redressed and then went to join my sister in the kitchen.

I must have been gone longer than I’d thought because she already had the spaghetti ready and was putting it on the plate with freshly cooked garlic bread. “This smells good.”

“Sit down. Would you like to say grace?”

I did as she asked and said grace before tucking into my meal. It was like eating a warm hug.

“Do you want me to make you a new appointment with Dr. Sanderson?” she offered.

“That’s not necessary. I’m fine. I have plenty of pills.”

“But you don’t. I checked the bottle, and it’s empty. And you haven’t gotten your new bottle from the pharmacy.”

“Maybe you looked at an old bottle. I just looked at them after my shower. I’m fine, Anna.”

“Bubby, you’re not. You need to be taking that medication. Let me make you a new appointment if the meds aren’t working. It’s my job to take care of you. I promised Mama, and you know she would be rolling over in her grave if I wasn’t making sure you were taking those meds.”

“God rest her soul. Mama has nothing to worry about. You don’t either, Anna. I’m good. God’s always watching over me.” I smiled at her.

She looked at me with concern, but then something slithered over her face, and it started to warp and change right before my eyes. Had a demon suddenly taken over my sister? I blinked and then widened my eyes, and it seemed to stretch her face, shifting it into jagged angles. “N-no… no… you can’t… you can’t have her,” I began to stutter.

“What are you talking about? Bubby, you need to let me make an appointment with Dr. Sanderson for you. Something’s wrong with you. You haven’t been taking your medication⁠—”

Her skin began to melt off her face, the jagged angles ripping through it only to smooth out until all that remained was a skull. Her eyes glowed red from the eye sockets as strange sounds came from her mouth.

“No! No! This isn’t right; stay away!” I slammed my chair backwards, stumbling from the kitchen. I had to get away. I had to run. I couldn’t stay and watch the demon take over my beloved sister. To watch it happen to her as I had with James. It was too much for me to handle. “Why, God? Why her? How could You allow this?” I cried out, begging for God to reverse it.

I ran from the house and headed for the only place that felt safe to me. The church. I’d be safe with God there. He would hold me in His arms and help me find a way to save her. Or at the very least to save her soul.

He had to.

I was His soldier. His demon slayer. He had called on me to do this for Him. Now I needed Him to help guide me and save the only family I had left. “Please, God. Please don’t let this demon steal her soul,” I begged, falling to my knees as I entered the cemetery next to the church. I couldn’t go in the building because it was locked at this hour, so my only refuge left was this sanctified ground.

“Please. Please let that all have been a dream. Please don’t let Satan take her from me. Don’t let the demons have her, dear Lord. I beg of You, my Lord and Father. Let me find a way. Let me find a way to save her body and soul as Jesus did for the man in the cemetery when He cast out the Legion into the pigs. I am on my knees, dearest Lord, let me save my sister,” I pleaded.

But the Lord was silent, and I wept.

31

THE TEMPLAR UNMASKED

MARCY

Monday Morning

Itook the two lists with me as I went to spend the weekend in Santa Monica with Frank. While he was at work Saturday afternoon, I’d picked up Timber from Frank’s parents’ house and then gone to his place and worked on cross-referencing the two lists. By the time I was finished, I had gotten the list down from more than two hundred people to thirty.

On Sunday, Frank and I had taken Timber to the beach, where we went for a run and then spent the rest of the day on the pier and watched the sunset over the ocean. It had been a nice, relaxing day, and I’d enjoyed every second of it; however, now it was time to get back to work.

I drove back to LA early and got into the precinct at six thirty. I’d stopped at Blue Bottle Coffee on my way, so I even had coffee while I began looking into the thirty possible suspects. I was on suspect number twelve when Angel walked in. He seemed different somehow, happier, lighter.

“Hey, Marce, you’re here bright and early.” He smiled, and his eyes even crinkled.

“Drove in from Santa Monica early so I could get a jump on these names. I cross-referenced the two lists and came up with thirty names. I’ve been checking them out since I got here; want to take part of them and help?”

“Can do.” He held out his hand.

I handed him the list I was working from and then printed off another copy for myself. “I’ve done the first twelve names. If you want to work from the end of the list up, I’ll keep working from the top down.”

“Got it,” he said as he sat down and switched on his computer.

A moment later his phone dinged, and he immediately picked it up. A wide smile crossed his lips as he typed out a reply. I wondered if he’d gotten back together with Callie, but then I’d never seen him quite this happy before. It was strange. Angel was sweet, charming, caring… not overexuberant. Sure, he was silly and fun, but this was more than that, it seemed.

I waited a moment for him to tell me what was going on, but he just pocketed his phone and got to work, so I let it go. He’d share when he was ready. I turned back to my newly printed list and plugged in name number thirteen.

An hour later, between the two of us, we had background on every name on the list. I knew from the twenty names I’d gone through that most of them would be in and around Basil Parish today, doing various things. The ones who wouldn’t be, I could find at their homes or at the archdiocese building.

“Let’s go interview these people.”

“Even the women?” Angel asked. “We know the perp is a man.”

“I know, but I’m hoping one of them will have seen or heard something that will help us pinpoint the one we’re looking for.”

“Okay, want me to drive?” he asked.

“If you want, I don’t care,” I said as we walked out to the parking lot.

Angel clicked the fob to unlock his SUV, and I pulled open the passenger door and started to get in, but the seat was pulled forward further than it normally was. I looked across the seat to where Angel was getting in behind the steering wheel. I hit the button to move the seat back and then got in, put my seat belt on and stared at him.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I was going to ask if you and Callie got back together, but she never moved the passenger seat forward.”

“No, she never needed to.” He smiled and turned the car on, but didn’t say anything else.

I folded my arms, and curiosity ate away at me. I could see that he was enjoying keeping me in the dark, so I wasn’t going to beg him to tell me. Instead I dropped it. We’d see who could hold out the longest.

“I think we should start with Ian Willis; he’s one of the custodial workers,” I said, looking down at the list in my hand where I’d written notes.

“Sounds like as good a place as any to begin.” His expression was serene, and I knew without a doubt he was hiding something and enjoying every second of it.

At Basil Parish we parked and went to hunt down Mr. Willis. We found him washing windows along with two of the other custodians we needed to speak to.

After speaking to them, we’d learned nothing new, but when I asked for alibis for some of the murders, they each had given them with ease, and they’d be easy to verify, so I was pretty sure we could rule them out.

“Who’s next?” Angel asked as he was once again typing out a text and not looking at me.

I didn’t answer him until he pocketed his phone. “Melanie France. She’s a volunteer in the office. There should be about six of them who come in to help. We can talk to them all.”

As we walked, his phone dinged, and he swiftly pulled it from his pocket, and after reading it, he snickered and immediately sent back another text.

He had to know I was dying from curiosity, but I refused to give in and ask.

“Detectives, hello. What can I help you with today?” the woman at the desk asked. She had a little rectangle name plate that said her name was Cynthia Park.

I recognized her name as someone else we needed to speak to, so instead of looking for Melanie, I started with her. “We’re here to speak to everyone about a few parishioners and Mr. Hillier. I understand he was here at Basil Parish often?”

“He was here quite often. Many of those who fill in here come over from the archdiocese. I was so sad to hear you found him deceased. The press is saying he was killed by the Templar; is that true?”

My lips twisted as I thought about the press. They were my least favorite people on most days. “Unfortunately, yes. As were the two parishioners we wanted to ask you about. Lily Ogata and Carla Achebe.”

“Oh, yes. I recall seeing their names in the paper too. How awful. I didn’t know them, we have so many members, and not all of them volunteer. It’s hard to know everyone.”

“I understand. I did want to ask if you’d noticed anything strange going on here over the last few weeks?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, thanks. We’re going to talk to some of the others, if you don’t mind me pulling them aside for a few minutes?”

“That’s no problem. You can use Father Jacobs’ office to speak to them if you’d like.” She nodded toward a closed door.

“That would be great.”

“And if you tell me who you’d like to speak to, I can send them in.”

“Melanie France was first on my list.”

“I’ll get her.”

Angel and I walked over to the office and went in. It was a plain office with a bookcase behind the simple wooden desk. There were two chairs in front of the desk as well as one behind the desk I imagined Father Jacobs sat in. On the wall was a cross, a picture of Basil Parish, and one of Jesus and Mary. On the desk was a Bible that looked quite old, as well as a computer that looked about fifteen years old.

“You take the desk chair. I’ll sit here.” Angel pulled one of the chairs next to the desk, facing the other chair.

A knock sounded, and a head poked through the open door. “You wanted to see me? I’m Melanie France.”

“Hi, Melanie, I’m Detective Kendrick, and this is Detective Reyes. We wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Of course, I bet this is about what happened to Mr. Hillier, right?”

“It is. Did you know him well?”

“Pretty well, I mean not well enough to call him by his first name, but I interacted with him quite often.”

“Can you remember anything odd that happened before he went missing?”

“Well, I don’t know about odd, but he did get into a pretty big argument with one of the landscapers.”

“Oh? What was it about, do you know?” This was something we hadn’t been told, and I wondered if it could mean something.

“I’m not really sure I understood what it was about. It was a bit chaotic at the time because Father Jacobs had just collapsed with his heart attack, and there were all kinds of people yelling, mostly about getting help. But that wasn’t what the landscaper and Mr. Hillier were shouting about. It almost sounded like the landscaper was blaming Mr. Hillier for Father Jacobs’ heart attack. He kept saying that Mr. Hillier had attacked him, but that was impossible.”

I glanced at Angel, who nodded at my look. Whoever this landscaper was could be our perp.

“Is there anyone else here who would know who the landscaper was?”

“Oh sure, I’m fairly certain my husband, Martin, would know. He’s always talking to the landscape crew. He knows them all.”

“Martin France…” That was one of the names on the Basil Parish list that I’d eliminated; he wasn’t here today though, from what I recalled. “Would he be at his regular job today?”

“Yes, he volunteers on the weekends here. We help set up communion.”

“Is there anyone here right now who might know the person you’re talking about?” I asked before we hunted down her husband.

“I would think so; let me think who all was there when Father Jacobs had his attack.” She looked up as though trying to remember. “There was Ida Ford, she’s one of our elderly volunteers; we were fixing the flowers when it happened. Sarah Leeds, she was nearby, I think. And then Father Abrahams was there too.”

“What did this landscaper look like?” Angel asked.

I hadn’t thought of that; we had pulled up pictures of each of the people we’d researched. It should have dawned on me to ask.

“He’s pretty tall, has dark hair, like yours, Detective”—she smiled at Angel—“but much longer and kind of messy. He also has really dark brown eyes.”

I scrolled through the faces I’d looked at, and only one came to mind. Nathan Domingez. “Thank you, Melanie, you’ve been a big help.”

“You’re welcome, though I’m not sure I know what I did.”

I got up and held the door for Melanie, then looked over at the front desk. “Ms. Park?”

“Are you ready for someone else?”

“Actually, could we speak to you again for a moment?”

She looked startled, but nodded and came over to join me at the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Melanie gave us some information, and I was hoping you could fill in a few blanks for us.”

“I’ll help in any way I can.” She took a seat.

I returned to mine and then asked her about the day Father Jacobs had his heart attack. “Do you remember one of the landscapers getting into an argument with Mr. Hillier?”

“I heard about it, but I wasn’t there. Nathan Domingez has a few mental health problems, but he’s a good worker. I can’t imagine what it was that made him think Mr. Hillier would harm Father Jacobs. He was very upset. From what I was told, his sister had to come and collect him because he wouldn’t calm down.”

“Do you know what Mr. Domingez suffers from?” Angel asked.

“I’m not sure, honestly. You’d probably have to speak to his sister, Anna. She’s a nurse at Good Samaritan Hospital. Such a lot of responsibility on her shoulders, having to care for her brother. Their parents died in a car accident about ten years ago, and she’s taken care of Nathan on her own pretty much since then except for when he was in the Army.”

“He’s former military?” Angel asked.

“Yes, I believe he was for about five years. He was in Afghanistan, and when he got back, he suffered from PTSD on top of some other mental health issues. I remember Anna telling me that when Nathan was a child, he used to see things that weren’t there. He’s been on medication for that since he was a kid, but it didn’t hinder him joining, so it couldn’t have been that bad. When he got back from the war, he had a breakdown and admitted himself to Shine View. Now he works for the church and lives with Anna so she can help him.”

“She’s a good sister to care for him like that,” Angel replied.

“Thank you so much for your help, Ms. Park. I appreciate you sharing what you know about him.”

“If you need anything else, just ask. Do you want me to send in anyone else?”

“No, I think we have everything we need right now.”

“Then have a blessed day, Detectives.”

As Angel and I left the building, I said, “It all fits. I bet Nathan’s gone off his medication and he’s our perp.”

“I won’t be taking that bet. I’m sure you’re right.”

“Let’s go talk to the sister,” I said.

His phone buzzed again as we were almost to the car. His gaze slid to mine as he pulled his phone from his pocket, and he read the text. His lips quirked up in a smile, and he replied.

“Okay, I give!” I exclaimed. “Who are you texting?”

Angel laughed and got in the car, leaving me in the dark.

32

INFORMATION OVERLOAD

ANGEL

Tuesday Morning

When we’d left Basil Parish late in the afternoon, we’d driven over to Good Samaritan to find Anna Domingez, but she wasn’t at work. We hadn’t gotten an address for her, so we’d returned to the station, and after updating Chenevert on what we were doing, we’d gotten background on her and her brother.

I’d met up with Jill after our shifts, and we’d gone out to eat together. She was fun, and I enjoyed flirting with her. She was six years younger than me, but it didn’t seem to matter to either of us, not really, but I was surprised we had quite a bit in common. We’d been texting each other randomly since Saturday night, and she brightened my day with her quirkiness. In a way she was like Marcy, driven and successful; she took pride in her job and loved being a cop.

On Tuesday morning, I stopped by R and H with a coffee for her. She’d mentioned she liked iced caramel and chocolate macchiatos with a lot of whipped cream and cinnamon on top, so that was what I got her.

“Hey, Reyes, what is that you’ve got there?” Jill asked, eyeing the drink tray in my hand.

“Thought you might like one, and I was stopping for me and Marcy anyway.” I handed her the drink I’d gotten for her.

“You’re so sweet, thank you.” She took the drink and the straw I offered her, then took a sip of it. “It’s perfect; you remembered how I like it.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” I replied. “I’d better get down there; we’re hopefully going to pick up our suspect today.”

She took another sip and then said, “You’ve identified them?” as she stepped closer to me and looked up into my face. She was petite, but strong. Looking at her, you wouldn’t know it, but like Marcy, nobody should underestimate her.

“Possibly. We’ll know more soon.”

She put her hand on my chest and gave me a concerned look. “Be careful, okay?”

I covered her hand with my own as I assured her, “I will. You too.”

She patted my chest and then slid her hand down my chest and let it drop to her side as she took a step back. “Text you later, Detective.” She winked.

I grinned and winked back before starting toward the door. I saw Keith on my way out and said, “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hey, Reyes. What brings you to R and H?”

I glanced over my shoulder at his partner and then back at him. “A delivery. I’ll see ya; have a good day.”

Keith’s gaze flicked from me to Jill, who was watching us, and back. “You too.”

I headed for HSS and set Marcy’s extra-large iced hazelnut coffee with three caramel macchiato creamers down in front of her, took my Americano from the tray and put the tray in the recycle bin. “You ready to go?” I asked, dangling my keys.

“Yep. I really think Nathan Domingez is our guy, but I want to hear more about his mental health disorder before we go after him. I want all the T’s crossed and the I’s dotted.”

We headed for the parking lot, and I unlocked my SUV. Marcy went around to the passenger seat and once again had to shift the seat before getting in. She stared at me, speculating. I knew she was dying to know whom I was seeing, but I was enjoying watching her try to figure it out. She would eventually. I wouldn’t have to tell her.

I started the car with a smile. “Problem?” I asked.

“You’re enjoying keeping me in the dark.” She arched her brow at me. “You know I’m going to discover who it is, right?”

My smile grew. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with as much glee as possible.

“It’s somebody we work with.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.

I squirmed a little in my seat, but didn’t say anything. I was trying not to give anything away, but I knew me shifting in my seat had probably confirmed that for her.

“Uh-huh,” was all she said when I didn’t answer. “Turn right up here,” she directed, since she was navigating our way to the Domingezes’ house.

I did as she asked. A few minutes later we pulled into the driveway and went up to knock on the door. We’d checked yesterday at the hospital and were told Anna wouldn’t be at work until one p.m. today, so we were pretty sure we’d find her at home.

A pretty Hispanic woman answered the door. She frowned. “Can I help you?”

“Anna Domingez?” I questioned.

She nodded.

“We’re Detectives Kendrick and Reyes. We’d like to speak with you,” Marcy said politely.

She opened the door wider. “What is this about? Is Nathan okay?”

“We would like to talk to you about your brother,” I said.

“Please, is he all right?” she asked as we followed her into the living room.

“We don’t know,” Marcy replied, her tone calm as we sat down on the sofa. “We’re here because we have some concerns, and we need to know more about him.”

“Oh God. Did he get into another altercation with someone? Did he call them a demon too?” She looked very worried.

“We’re here about the altercation he had with James Hillier about a month ago. You know we found Mr. Hillier deceased?”

She nodded and looked down at her entwined hands in her lap. “Did Nathan do this? Is he… did he kill those people?”

“That is one of the things we’re trying to determine. What can you tell us about Nathan’s condition?” Marcy asked.

Anna winced and ran her hands over her hair, tugging at the ends, and then re-clenched her hands together in her lap. “Nathan was diagnosed with prosopometamorphopsia after a fall from a tree when he was eight. He began to see people’s faces change and distort. At first, we didn’t know what it was, but the neurologist realized what might be going on and sent him to a specialist. They put him on medication, and the distortions seemed to stop for the most part. Our parents were killed in a car accident when he was a senior in high school, and I couldn’t really cope with him while in nursing school. He ended up enlisting in the Army, and despite his condition, they allowed him to join up.”

“What is prosopometamorphopsia exactly?” I asked.

“Sometimes it’s called demon face syndrome. The people who have it can be face blind, meaning they have trouble using facial identity and can’t recognize certain people because what they see isn’t real.”

“But they know they have this syndrome and know what they’re seeing isn’t real?” Marcy questioned.

“Usually, yes.”

“What about Nathan?” I asked, because she seemed to be avoiding something.

“I think after losing Mom and Dad, and then his time in Afghanistan, it caused something to happen to Nathan. He came back with severe PTSD and struggled to do anything when he got out. He turned to the church, which I thought was helping him, but about a month ago, I noticed he was becoming erratic. I’ve been checking his medication, and I think he’s stopped taking it. I got a call from the pharmacy that he hadn’t picked up his most recent order, and then he missed an appointment with Dr. Sanderson.”

“And what would happen if he stopped taking the medicine?” I asked.

“He’d start seeing the distortions again. I’m not sure how well he’d take that. In fact I’m pretty sure that was why he got into that shouting match with Mr. Hillier. You know about Father Jacobs’ heart attack?”

“We’re aware,” Marcy answered.

“Nathan was very upset. I think it triggered something in his brain. He began shouting at Mr. Hillier. I had to come get him from the church, and it took me hours to calm him down. He kept saying that Mr. Hillier was possessed. That he was a demon who had attacked Father Jacobs.”

“Do you believe your brother is capable of hurting anyone?” Marcy asked, leaning forward and putting her hand on Anna’s knee.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s not his fault though; you can’t blame him; it’s his disease,” she pleaded.

I felt bad for her, but the guy had murdered five people that we knew of. I understood that he wasn’t in his right mind, but that didn’t excuse his behavior. We needed to find him as soon as possible.

“Do you know where he is now?” I asked.

“No. I haven’t seen him since Saturday night. I confronted him, and he… he ran from me. He was panicked because I’m pretty sure he saw me as something other than me.”

“So when he looks at people, it’s not all people whose faces change? Just some?”

Anna nodded. “He could go days, weeks, months without seeing anything off, but then come across one person and their face won’t be right. Everyone else will look normal.”

“Does he live here with you?” I asked. Everything we had said he did, but he could have recently moved and not filed a change of address.

“He does, but as I said, he hasn’t been here since Saturday night.”

“Would you mind if we take a look in his room?” Marcy asked. “Maybe it will give us some clue as to where he went.”

“If you think it will help, yes, of course.” Anna stood up and led us down the hallway and opened a door. “This is his room. It’s probably messy. I don’t go in there since it’s his space.”

“You said you’ve been keeping an eye on his medicine; does he not keep it in his room?”

“No, it’s in the bathroom across the hall.” She nodded toward the open doorway.

“Mind if we look there too?” I asked.

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll check the bathroom; you want to start in here?” I suggested.

“I’m going to go make some tea; would either of you like some?” Anna asked.

“Thank you, no,” Marcy said before going into the bedroom.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied and turned to the bathroom.

As Anna walked back down the hall, I switched on the bathroom light. There were a couple of pill bottles on the sink, and I opened them. They were empty. I looked in the medicine cabinet, but the only things in there were Band-Aids, Neosporin, and ibuprofen, along with deodorant, a toothbrush and toothpaste.

I bagged the empty medication bottles as evidence and then went to join Marcy. “You find anything?”

“Found his journals,” she said. “This guy is out there, mentally. He’s written about what he’s been up to. I just read the last few pages, and he’s got to be out of his mind.” She opened the closet and squatted down.

“What is it?” I saw her reach for something, and then she pulled out a gallon jug and took off the cap to sniff it. “Sure you want to do that?”

Marcy looked up at me. “It smells like baptismal water.” She held the jug up to me.

Leaning forward, I could smell the balsam. “Yeah, I smell it too.”

“We need to call Lindsey. She needs to check out this room.”

“I’ll make the call.” I pulled out my phone and called it in.

Marcy bagged all the journals. “We’ll take them with us. Maybe they’ll give us a clue as to where he is.”

I spoke to Lindsey, who said she was on her way with a team. “See you soon.”

“Did you find something that might help find him?” Anna asked, a mug in her hand as she stood in the doorway.

“Possibly, but it looks like your brother is the one who has been killing people.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “I should have been more aware. I should have insisted he go see Dr. Sanderson. I should have dragged him there. I should have—” Her voice broke as she started to sob. “Please, you have to help him. Don’t kill him, please,” she begged.

I put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll do our best, Anna, but we can’t promise. He’s become very dangerous, and we won’t let him hurt anyone else.”

“Please,” she continued to sob, “it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.”

I felt bad for her, but in the end, we had to stop him from hurting anyone else, and we’d use any means necessary to do that. I hoped it wouldn’t come to having to kill him, but I would if I had to, and so would Marcy. Best-case scenario, we took him alive and made sure he was locked away for life.

Either way, Anna’s life was now irrevocably changed and would never be the same again.

33

WORSE THAN THE WORST HORROR STORY

MARCY

Tuesday Afternoon

Back at the precinct, Angel and I started reading the journals that Nathan had written. They went back years, so I started with the ones from when he got back from Afghanistan a few years ago. The guy had done some horrific things, claiming he was under orders, while he was there, so it was no wonder his brain was all messed up. I knew he wasn’t supposed to have been writing any of this out, and if the Army got a hold of it, he’d be in a world of trouble, but considering we were after him for murder, we would get to him first. If he went to trial and these journals were submitted as evidence, then the Army could come after him. But we would see justice done first.

“These are sick,” I muttered as I turned the page, my stomach rolling at what I was reading.

It was vile the way he’d perverted the word of God. There were scriptures from the Old Testament written into a lot of the stories to justify some of what he’d done while in the Army. I couldn’t tell if what he’d written were things that actually happened or if they were things he’d just dreamed of doing or imagined he’d done. I’d need to do some research to see if anything was true. Though if it was, I was fairly certain the Army had covered it up, because if this sort of thing got out, we wouldn’t be looking like the good guys anymore.

“This can’t be things he actually did over there. I mean, this has to be part of his delusions, right?” I said, showing Angel the passages.

Angel read them and went pale. “God, I hope they’re part of his delusions.” He shook his head. “I’ve got some connections, let me make a few calls, and I’ll see what I can find out about his time over there.”

“That’d be a good idea, if they’ll tell you and not say it’s classified information.” I rolled my eyes.

Angel pulled out his phone and sent off a text. A few minutes later, his phone rang, and he jumped up and walked over to the incident room and closed the door so he could speak in private. I wasn’t annoyed. This kind of call wasn’t one he’d want overheard by anyone.

I set the journal I had been reading aside and picked up another. This one was dated six months ago. It was more lucid, but spoke about his devotion to the church and how he was striving to be a good Catholic and follow the Bible. He often included Bible verses. Had I started with this journal, I’d have thought he was a good man, one devoted to Christ and wanting to be a better person.

It made me wonder if he’d been off his medicine when he’d written the previous one. Or if, as his sister had said, the PTSD of being in a war had triggered major delusions in his mind, and he’d written what he imagined happened. I considered getting a court order to open up his medical files and compel his psychiatrist into speaking to us.

I picked up my phone and called Lieutenant Chenevert. “Sir, it’s Kendrick.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

I explained, “This Nathan Domingez, the man we believe is doing these killings, was diagnosed with some strange brain disorder when he was younger, and when he got back from Afghanistan, he started seeing a psychiatrist. His journals show a downward spiral, and he may be off his meds. I was thinking it might be a good idea to speak to his doctor. Could you see if we can get a judge to sign off on that?”

“Y’all’ve uncovered a lot of compelling evidence that this is our man. I think we can find one to issue that court order. Give me a few hours to start the paperwork. Might be tomorrow before we can get it signed off on, though. I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, sir.” I hung up and went back to reading.

Angel emerged from the incident room and walked over to me. “Where’s that journal with the stuff from his time overseas?”

I picked it up and handed it to him. “Did you find someone to talk to?”

“I’m working on it. I called my buddy, and he’s trying to get me to someone who was stationed over there at the same time Nathan was. I don’t think they’ll be able to give me any details, at least not on the record, but maybe I can get someone to at least confirm or deny what he’s written.”

“Good luck with that. My experience is they’re tight-lipped.”

“Yeah, and that might be the case again, but I want to try. I’m really hoping what he’s written is all just in his head.”

“You and me both, but even that is pretty sick.”

Angel nodded in agreement. “I’m going to head back in there to wait for the call. Do you want me to read any of these other journals?”

“Sure, that would be great.” I handed him two more journals.

When it was close to five, I looked up to see that Angel was still in the incident room, but he was on the phone and taking notes. He must have finally gotten someone to talk. I locked up all the journals that I had and shut down my computer before walking up to the door of the incident room. I knocked as I looked through the glass at him. He shook his head and pointed at the phone.

I gestured at the clock, then pointed at myself and to the floor, asking if I needed to stay until he was done.

He shook his head and mouthed, “Tomorrow.”

I nodded and gave him a small wave, then walked down the hall to Chenevert’s office. Knocking on the open door, I said, “Sir?”

“Hey, Kendrick. Still waiting to hear anything. I’ve submitted everything we have on Domingez, and it’s on the docket, but they’re gone for the day, so it’ll be tomorrow, probably afternoon before we hear anything.”

“That’s fine. Angel is still trying to track down information on Domingez’s time in the Army, so he’s locked in the incident room. I’m going to head out for the day unless you’re authorizing overtime?” I hesitated. I wouldn’t mind staying until we found everything we could about this guy, but I knew our budget was tight.

“No, go home and get some rest. I’ll make sure Reyes heads out soon too.”

“See you tomorrow, sir.”

As I walked to the car, I texted Frank, asking what his plans were. He’d been learning everything he could on the job and had gone out into the field with his own team for the first time yesterday. Before that, he and his team had been shadowing Jazz’s team. He’d been so busy he hadn’t made it over last night, and I wondered if tonight would be a repeat.

Timber and I’ll be there around seven. Don’t worry about dinner. I’m bringing pizza!

He’d added a heart emoji to the end, and I smiled. I sent him a heart back and then got in my car to head home. I had showered and put on a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt by the time he arrived with the pizza.

“How was it today?” I asked, pulling plates from the cabinet.

“Different. It’s strange being on this end of the investigation, but I’m liking it. I’m feeling less stressed and really good about being back at the job.”

I smiled and leaned into him. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Any updates on your case?” he asked as he put slices of pizza on each of our plates while I grabbed us some sodas from the fridge.

“Trying to get a court order to speak to our perp’s doctor. Chenevert sent the paperwork in, but the judge hasn’t seen it yet. So hopefully tomorrow. The guy has gone to ground, so I’m hoping he realizes we’ve figured out who he is, and he doesn’t kill anyone else.” I frowned, thinking we should have put out an APB on the guy. I pulled my phone from the pocket of my leggings and said, “Give me a second. I’m calling Chenevert.”

“I’ll get Timber’s food ready and set us up on the patio.” Frank moved to the cabinet where we kept Timber’s food supplies.

I dialed Chenevert and waited for him to answer. “Hey, sir, sorry to bother you, but I was thinking about Domingez and the fact that with this disorder he could go after any random person at any time, and maybe we need to put out an APB for him.”

“Already ahead of you, Kendrick. Did that after you left my office.”

“Any sign of him yet?”

“Not yet, but you’ll be the first call I make as soon as word comes in.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a great night.”

“You too, Kendrick.”

I hung up and went to join Frank out on the patio. I was determined to relax and not think about the case again until morning. That was easier said than done, considering Frank had the news on, and they couldn’t stop talking about the Templar murders.

I just sighed and ate my pizza. It was going to be a long night.

Wednesday morning bright and early I was back in the precinct, waiting for the court order to come in. Chenevert and I talked about the APB he’d put out last night on Nathan Domingez, telling me he’d warned them to approach with caution, as he was a highly dangerous individual. So far, we hadn’t had anyone spot Domingez, and I’d started to wonder if he knew he was in trouble and was in hiding or if he was just getting lucky that we hadn’t found him yet.

“Morning,” Angel said as he came in the door carrying a tray with two coffees.

That was another clue that he was seeing someone here at the LAPD. He’d never gotten the tray before when he brought us coffee until yesterday because he hadn’t needed it for two coffees. “Good morning, Romeo, did you drop a coffee off with your lady love?” I asked, eyeing the tray.

He snickered and set my coffee down on the desk, then pitched the tray. “Want to know what I found out yesterday about Domingez’s time in the Army?”

He completely ignored my question. Another sign it was someone here. But who was it, and why was he hiding it? Still, I didn’t ask. I’d figure it out one way or another. Instead, I asked, “You got someone to talk?”

“It was all off the record, but yeah. I called my buddy, who’s a major in the Army and currently stationed at Fort Carson in Colorado. He connected me with one of the majors who was at the same duty station as Domingez in Afghanistan at the same time. They were both at Camp Alamo in Kabul. From what Major Jessup said, the camp was often ambushed by the Taliban forces while they were there. It was in a bit of a remote part of Kabul, and there were a couple of villages nearby. They were training Afghan forces there, and the Taliban didn’t like that.”

“And he just shared all of that willingly?”

“Well, a lot of that is public record now. There wasn’t much he told me that wasn’t, as far as that part was concerned. Talking about Domingez was a bit more nuanced. He could tell me some things, but not everything, like what Domingez was doing specifically at any given time. He did tell me that Domingez watched several of the men in his unit lose their lives, and that he didn’t handle it well. Jessup called it survivor’s guilt. It happens to a lot of soldiers. He told me they dealt with roadside bombings, suicide bombings and raids from the Taliban forces. It wasn’t pretty.”

I nodded. “I can see how that would trigger mental health issues in someone who already struggled with them.”

“Jessup did tell me there was an incident where Domingez was on a scouting mission that turned into a battle, and only four in his unit returned to camp. Domingez was the only one uninjured and had to be sedated when he returned because he was out of his head. Jessup claimed Domingez was sent to Germany to recuperate, but was returned to duty six weeks later with a clean bill of health.”

“Do you buy that?” I arched a brow.

Angel shrugged. “I don’t know. We don’t know what he told the doctors in Germany. All Jessup knows is what was in his file when he returned.”

“Did you tell him what Domingez wrote about in his journals?”

“I did, actually, but almost all of it seemed to surprise him.”

“So nothing he wrote about in the journals actually happened?” I was relieved.

“I won’t say nothing that was in there was true. There were a few things that Jessup acknowledged—off the record—that did happen but not in the way that Domingez described. The part about the woman and the grenade did take place, but it wasn’t Domingez or his team who did it. It was the Taliban soldiers who did it in front of them as a warning to others not to cooperate with our forces. Several of our soldiers suffered from PTSD over the incident.”

I shuddered hearing that, and I wanted to vomit, but a few deep breaths and pushing thoughts of what I’d read into the dark recesses of my mind kept me from losing my breakfast. “So he’s seen all these horrific things, and now he’s acting out against what he thinks are demons before they can do the kinds of things he saw while he was in the Army. It’s kind of sad, really.”

Angel nodded. “Looks that way. So Chenevert told me he had Myers put out an APB on Domingez last night before I left. Has anyone seen him?”

“Not so far. I was told Kim and Desmond did drive by his house and Basil Parish this morning, but so far, nobody has seen him. They’ve been informed at the church and the archdiocese that he’s wanted in questioning for these murders and to contact us immediately upon seeing him. So far, they haven’t.”

“Okay, so what are we working on this morning?”

“I’ve got four more journals to go through, and we’re waiting to see if we get that court order to talk to his psychiatrist.”

“Let’s get started, then.” Angel held his hand out for a journal.

We got the call about the court order on Nathan’s medical records as soon as we returned from lunch. We immediately went to Dr. Sanderson’s office. I showed my badge and the court order, and we were shown into his office. He hadn’t been happy to cut his patient’s time short, but catching this murderer took precedence.

“How can I help you, Detectives?”

“We’ve got a court order to speak to you about Nathan Domingez and his mental state.” I handed him the paperwork.

Dr. Sanderson read it over and then sighed as he moved to his filing cabinet and pulled out a file. He sat down behind his desk and said, “Nathan Domingez, yes, he’s my patient. And from this paperwork, you believe he’s the one committing the Templar murders?”

“Not that I like calling them that, but yes, we have evidence that he’s the one committing these murders. We need to know about his condition and if he ever spoke to you about harming anyone.” I didn’t tell him about Nathan’s journals. I’d bring them up after he told us what he knew.

“Nathan has suffered from prosopometamorphopsia since he was a child. In case you are unfamiliar, it means he sees some people’s faces as distorted or cartoon-like. He is not mentally unstable because of that disease, you have to understand. It isn’t exactly a mental disorder, but a visual one.”

“I do understand that, Dr. Sanderson. However, I believe that while he was in the Army, something triggered in his mind that led him to thinking what he’s seeing are actual demons.”

“It is true that he now suffers from PTSD from his time in the Army, which was pretty traumatic for him. It has led to a few other neuroses that unfortunately could lead to him possibly acting on what he’s seeing, but he has been given medication to suppress those neuroses of the mind.”

“What are those neuroses?” Angel asked.

“You have to understand what Nathan went through while he was overseas. He experienced a lot of trauma that led to the PTSD and has resulted in him having panic attacks and borderline personality disorder. He’s highly emotional, impulsive, and acts without thinking things through. We’ve been working on that in therapy, and he is, of course, on medication to help balance his issues.”

“Are you aware, Dr. Sanderson, that he hasn’t been taking any of his medication for about a month?” I asked.

“I wasn’t aware of that, Detective, but I know he missed his last appointment with me, so I’m not surprised.”

“Yet you didn’t report him as a possible danger to the community?” I asked.

“My hands were tied by doctor-patient privilege. Without that court order of yours, I wouldn’t even be telling you this now.” Dr. Sanderson raised a brow. “I have been in contact with Nathan’s sister, and we’ve spoken about getting him in to see me. At that point I would have suggested he check himself into Shine View and be re-evaluated.”

I shook my head. He wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t morally correct. There was the greater good to think about. He and Anna were both complicit in these murders. They knew there was the potential for Nathan to go off the deep end, yet they hadn’t acted.

“So, knowing he’s off his medication, which means his prosopometamorphopsia is causing him to see demons, and he’s both highly emotional and impulsive, what do you think he’s capable of, Doctor?” Angel asked. “Do you think he’s capable of doing these murders?”

“Yes, I do think it is possible. However, from what I know of Nathan, he probably thinks he’s saving lives.”

“How do you mean?” Angel asked.

“Nathan is a very godly man. Since his return from Afghanistan, he turned to God. He finds solace there. Because the prosopometamorphopsia makes him see people as demons, it’s my opinion that he believes he’s killing them to save others from harm. Do you know who the first person was he killed? Something had to have triggered him to act.”

I glanced to Angel and back to the doctor. “I believe he accused the first victim of harming one of the priests at Basil Parish.”

“Was the priest injured in some way?”

“He had a massive heart attack and is currently in the hospital.”

“Yes, that would be the trigger for this, if he was especially close to the priest.”

“So will he be a danger to us when we go to bring him in?”

“In my opinion, no, not unless one of you appears to be a demon to him. You understand with the way his disease works, not every face appears that way, only one out of a hundred or so.”

“You could have stopped him from acting on what he was seeing if you’d insisted he come see you after he cancelled his appointment.”

“Detective, we do not force our patients to see us. He wasn’t under a court order to see a psychiatrist. I’m sorry that he’s been doing this, not only for those whose lives he’s taken and their families, but for Nathan himself, because he will be horrified once he recognizes that what he’s been doing is wrong.”

I stood up. “That’s if he can ever recognize that again. I have my doubts, Dr. Sanderson. Thank you for your time.”

As we left the office, I was seething. “Dr. Sanderson and Anna could have stopped this. They could have saved all these lives if they’d just acted,” I said, slamming the car door.

“We’ll stop him. One way or another, we’ll get him off the streets,” Angel replied, but he didn’t sound any less pissed off than I was.

“We’d better because I might find a way to charge the both of them for these murders if we don’t.”

34

ON THE HUNT

MARCY

Wednesday Evening

Iwas sitting in my car, typing out a text to Frank, when Angel emerged from the building, but he wasn’t alone. He was walking with Jill Rice from R and H. I stopped texting to watch the two of them. They paused in front of his car and chatted for a couple of minutes; then she nodded and walked over to a blue Chevy Impala, popped the trunk, pulled out a bag, and then returned to where Angel was. He opened the passenger-side door, adjusted the seat, and helped her in.

I was floored. Not that Jill wasn’t nice, but that I hadn’t figured it out sooner. I’d thought it was maybe one of the personal assistants or a tech, maybe even a patrol officer. I hadn’t considered another detective. I should have though. Jill was smart and very attractive. A twinge of jealousy flashed through me, but I quickly brushed it away. I loved Angel, but as a friend. As a best friend. I wanted him to be happy, and if Jill was going to make him happy, then I was all for this.

I’d liked Callie. She was good people, but she and Angel hadn’t really had a whole lot of meaningful things in common. There were aspects of the job that she didn’t really understand or like for that matter. Looking back now, I should have talked him out of trying to make things work with her.

That thought gave me pause.

Was I treating Anna unfairly in my mind because I was blaming her for what she should have done with her brother? She’d probably had no idea that he was capable of murdering people. She was concerned about him not taking his meds, and she’d tried to get him to make a new appointment with his doctor to get things sorted. She was doing the best she could. She couldn’t have known. But five people had died, and Nathan needed to pay for that.

Glancing up, I realized Angel and Jill had left. I finished my text to Frank, telling him I was going to pick up Japanese from Sushi & Teri on my way home. He quickly texted back that he wanted their spider roll and the salmon bento box with a side of shrimp tempura udon.

Sushi & Terri were a little out of the way, but their food was good, and I was craving sushi. I placed our order and waited. When I got home, Frank was already there, letting Timber out to the backyard to do his business. Over the past week, I’d come home to find various holes dug around the backyard, so I didn’t like letting him out there on his own.

“Let’s eat out there. You want to grab some beers?” I said, heading for the patio door.

“Sure. How was your day?” he asked. “Any closer to catching this guy?”

As we sat down and started eating, I told him about Nathan and what we’d learned from Angel’s Army contacts and Nathan’s doctor. “We need to find this guy before he kills someone else. His journals are awful, and from what his doctor told us, well, it’s not good. He’s off his meds, and I’m pretty sure he’s not living in reality.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Frank murmured, his voice laced with concern. “You need to be careful going after him.”

I nodded. “I know, I will.” I couldn’t help thinking about another mentally unstable killer I’d gone after. Nick Pound. He’d been obsessed with me, and in the end, we’d finally caught him and put him away for life at Atascadero State Hospital. It was an all men’s facility for the criminally insane. I had a feeling that would be where Nathan ended up as well.

Killers like Nick I understood, he was a true psychopath, sure, he had schizophrenia, and it was only one of his personalities that was a killer, but his kills had a pattern that could be tracked. He had a type and an obsession with me and the Face Flayer. Nathan made him look like a cakewalk in comparison. Nathan’s kills made no sense to anyone who couldn’t see through his eyes. There was no discernable pattern. Which meant we couldn’t warn anyone. We couldn’t say he only goes after women or men or brown-haired people or blondes.

Not that Warren would let us warn the public anyway. He was still trying to live down how he’d gotten the wrong man. The press was dragging him harshly, and they were back to trashing the LAPD.

Now that we knew who the killer was, I wondered if Warren would change his mind. We could plaster Nathan’s picture all over the news as wanted for questioning in the Templar murders. I didn’t know if it would deter Nathan from killing again, but at least people would be watching for him.

I spent the entire night thinking about it, lying awake in bed, stroking Timber’s fur. I needed to talk to Chenevert and see if we could make that happen. Get Nathan’s name and face out there. The public could help us find him and bring him in safely. At least in theory.

“Did you get any sleep?” Frank murmured, kissing my bare shoulder.

Sighing, I shook my head. “Not really. Might have dozed for an hour, but that’s about it.”

“How are you going to function today?”

I gave him a wry look. “With coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

He nodded and smiled, then gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll let Timber out and put the pot on; you go shower.”

“Deal.” I got out of bed and did as he suggested. The cold water sluicing over me helped to relieve some of the tiredness I felt. Coffee would be even better. I got dressed in a pair of black slacks and a red blouse, with a black blazer. I laced up my black tennis shoes and headed for the kitchen.

As soon as I entered, Frank handed me a mug of coffee and directed me to the table. He’d not only got the coffee going, he’d fixed breakfast. “Thanks, Frank, this looks great.”

He bent over my chair and kissed me. “Unfortunately, I can’t stay and eat with you. I gotta head off to work.” He opened the patio door and whistled.

Timber came flying through the door, skidding to a stop next to the table, his tail wagging as he eyed my plate. He barked and then sat down, looking at me expectantly.

“You are so spoiled.” I picked up a piece of the sausage Frank had put on my plate and tossed it to Timber, who gobbled it up in the blink of an eye.

“Now who’s spoiling him?” Frank said with a laugh.

“Yeah, point taken, but who can resist that face?” I said, grinning up at him.

“We’ll see you tonight; text me later?” he said, leaning down to kiss me again.

“I will. Love you; drive safely,” I replied.

“Love you too, and you be safe today.”

“Always.”

I watched him walk out of the kitchen with Timber on his heels. A moment later I heard the front door open and close. I finished off the meal he’d made, cleaned up the mess, poured another cup of coffee into my travel mug and headed in to work.

I walked in to find Angel already seated at his desk, a coffee waiting for me on mine. “Thanks for the coffee. I barely slept last night, and it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

He looked up from his phone and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

I finished my travel mug, which had less than a swallow left, and then picked up the cup Angel had brought me and took a sip. “So I want to go see Anna again. Maybe she’s heard from her brother or has figured out where he might be hiding.”

“Maybe. Do you want me to drive?” He stood up and pulled his keys from his pocket.

“I think I’ll drive so I don’t have to keep moving the seat on Jill,” I said nonchalantly and then tossed a grin over my shoulder at him.

Angel chuckled and followed me out of the detective pool to the parking lot. “Took you long enough. What gave it away?”

“I don’t like admitting it, but she hadn’t come to mind until I saw you with her last night, leaving the station.”

“Seriously? Who did you think it was?” Angel asked as he pulled the seat belt into place.

“I thought maybe Desmond or Allen from Patrol, or maybe Kaitlyn Venture, from Lindsey’s team?”

Angel cocked his head. “Desmond I could see, but Allen or Venture? They’re a little young, don’t you think?”

“They’re over twenty-one; nothing wrong with it, if that was who you were seeing.”

“Okay, let me clarify, they’re a little young for me. I won’t date anyone more than seven years younger, and even that is pushing it. Jill’s twenty-nine, and while we have a lot in common, she’s still six years younger than me, which is a little bit disturbing to me. I don’t usually go for younger women.”

“I don’t see why,” I said as I drove. “It’s not that big an age gap. If you were twenty-one and she was fifteen, then yeah, I’d say ewww, but you’re both adults. Have been for a long time now. You’re mature; she’s mature; you’re both fully functioning grown adults. Besides, Frank and I are five years apart. It’s basically the same.”

“I guess. Just didn’t think I’d have anything in common with someone younger, but Jill and I seem to.”

“I’m glad. I like her. Not that I didn’t like Callie,” I quickly assured him. “But they aren’t even similar, you know?”

“You’re right, they aren’t. I’d never compare them to each other.” He almost sounded like there was someone else he would compare Jill to, but he didn’t say that. “I think as sweet as Callie is, and as much fun as we had together, in reality, my life as a cop is just not what she’s looking for. And honestly, I think I was just trying too hard to be in a relationship with her when the actual feelings weren’t really there.”

“Better you figured it out when you did instead of later after you married her and upended your lives,” I replied as we pulled into Good Samaritan Hospital’s parking lot.

“I guess that’s true.” He nodded.

“So how did you and Jill end up together? Did you ask her out or something when I wasn’t looking?” I was curious how I hadn’t noticed them chatting before.

He shrugged. “Actually, it just kind of happened naturally. Keith invited me to go for a drink at the Short Stop with a group, Jill was there, we got to talking that night, but I hadn’t thought anything about it. Then I was there to watch the game last Saturday, and Jill was there with friends to watch the game too. We talked some more, and one thing led to another, and we’ve been talking ever since.”

“I watched her grab a bag from her car and get into yours, Angel; there’s a bit more than talking going on,” I said archly.

“Jealous?” he teased.

“A little bit, yeah. I don’t know how you moved on so fast, so easily. I don’t transition that quickly.”

He shook his head. “She didn’t stay over, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was a change of clothes because we went rock climbing after work.”

I stopped walking and looked at him. “You went rock climbing? Since when?”

“It was Jill’s idea. I hadn’t been before, and she said it was a great workout. She was right, and I actually liked it.”

“That is a little mind blowing, honestly.”

“This weekend we’re going to a horse ranch and going riding. I haven’t been in ten years, but I’m looking forward to it.”

“Okay, so not what I expected.” I shook my head, grinning. “Come on, let’s go talk to Anna.”

We walked into the hospital and found where Anna was stationed, but we had to wait until she was finished with a patient before we could speak with her. She came out of the patient’s room and stopped short at seeing us.

“Have you found my brother?” she asked, hurrying over to us.

“No, we were hoping you’d heard from him or seen him.”

She shook her head. “Not since before we spoke. I’m really getting worried about him. I can’t believe he would hurt anyone.”

I could see the stress on her face. She was obviously upset about all of this. “His journals have descriptions of the things he’s done, Anna. And they match the crime scenes. He’s definitely the one who is killing these people, and we need to stop him.”

“We’d like your help to do that,” Angel added.

“What can I do?”

“Is there any place you can think of where Nathan would go? Somewhere he’d feel safe?”

“I’ve checked everywhere. I thought he’d go to the church. That’s where he finds the most solace when he’s upset. But he hasn’t been there. And nobody at Basil Parish or at the archdiocese has seen him. He might have gone to one of the other churches, but I couldn’t tell you which one. You might talk to Amanda; she works at the archdiocese; she may know.”

“We’ll do that,” I replied and then asked, “Can you tell me again about the last time you saw him?”

Anna nodded. “I found him at church and made him come home. I bribed him by telling him I’d make his favorite dinner, spaghetti, which I did. I wanted to make sure he was calm because I wanted to talk to him about his medicine and try to get him to go see Dr. Sanderson. But he dismissed my worry, telling me he was fine and that he’d taken his pill, which I knew was a lie because the bottles were empty.”

“And what happened when you told him that?” Angel asked.

She pressed her lips together and started to get teary-eyed. “He stared at me, and a look of horror crossed his face… he started mumbling about demons trying to possess me, and he ran off.”

“We need to find him and get him off the streets,” I murmured, glancing to Angel.

“Wait… you’re not going to actually arrest him, are you?” She seemed surprised.

“That is our job, Anna. He’s killed people; he’s going to jail.”

“But it’s not his fault. He doesn’t know what he’s doing!” she nearly shouted, getting highly agitated.

“I understand that, we all do, but even if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he still has to pay for doing it.” I tried to keep my tone reasonable.

“But that’s not fair!” She continued to get even more upset.

“What’s going on out here? This is a hospital. A place for healing. I can’t have you shouting out here.” The charge nurse stomped toward us. “Detectives, I think you should leave now.”

Seeing as we weren’t going to get any more information out of Anna right now, I decided to comply. “That’s fine. Anna, if you do see him, please contact us. No matter what you think, we need to keep him from killing anyone else.”

She didn’t reply, just wept in the charge nurse’s arms.

“Maybe we should have told her he’ll probably end up at the state mental hospital instead of actual jail,” Angel said as we walked out.

“Maybe. Not sure she would have approved of that answer either. She seemed to be under the impression that he’d get off scot-free once he was back on his meds. Maybe Nathan’s not the only delusional one in that family.”

35

PANIC AT THE TRAIN YARD

MARCY

Thursday Afternoon

After leaving the hospital, Angel and I headed for the archdiocese to look around. We did a walk-through with Amanda Shore, looking in every room, and then checked the grounds to see if Nathan was anywhere there hiding. I was glad they were cooperating with us, and we hadn’t had to get a search warrant. It seemed that knowing he’d murdered Hillier, as well as a couple of parishioners, they wanted him caught sooner rather than later.

We hadn’t found him anywhere on their grounds, so after grabbing some lunch, we went by Basil Parish to do the same, with the same results. Amanda had told us that because Nathan worked for the archdiocese, he also had access to several other churches and their buildings as well. There were three others he spent quite a lot of time at, so we decided to check each of them. We left Basil Parish and headed for St. Brendan’s on West Third Street, but there was no sign of him there. From there we went to St. Kevin’s on Beverly Boulevard, but again we had no luck. Our last stop was Precious Blood between South Hoover Street and South Occidental Boulevard. Our bad luck held. Nathan hadn’t been seen at any of them in more than a week.

Frustrated, we headed back to the precinct. As I drove, I thought back over the conversation we’d had with Anna. “I think he’s going to go after his sister next.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because he saw her face change to a demon’s. That’s what’s been happening, right? He sees a demon, and then he kills the demon. I think the only reason he hasn’t yet is because some part of him knows his sister is still in there. Maybe he’s looking for a way to save her?”

“That’s a good possibility.” Angel nodded. “But I don’t think she’s going to let us take her into protective custody, or let us use her as bait to draw Nathan out of hiding.”

I sighed. “You’re probably right. She wasn’t too happy with us when we left her.”

“Nope.” He popped the p and shook his head. “Ain’t no way, ain’t nohow.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Wizard of Oz you aren’t.”

“You’re slipping. That wasn’t the wizard. That was the gatekeeper Munchkin on the door.” He grinned.

“Same difference, played by the same actor.” I smiled. “I wonder if we can get a patrol car to shadow Anna.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Back at the precinct we headed for Chenevert’s office. I knocked on the door, and when he called out, we went in. “Sir, I have a theory.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

I explained my thought about Nathan going after his sister. “I don’t think it’s going to matter that she’s his sister. Well, scratch that, I do think it matters because I think he’s going to want to try to save her from the demon. So I’d like to have a patrol car shadow her, maybe sit outside her house and the hospital?”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad theory, Kendrick, but this guy is unpredictable. He could be anywhere in the city. We don’t know for sure that he’s going to go after her. We don’t know that was what he saw. All y’all have is Anna’s interpretation of that dinner conversation. He could have left because she’d pissed him off.”

“But—”

Chenevert held up his hand. “I’ll talk to the captain and Myers. If we can spare someone, we will, but I’m not making any promises.”

It looked like that was the best I was going to get at the moment. “Yes, sir.”

Twenty minutes later, he came back to us, shaking his head. “Sorry. It’s a no-go. Myers said his hands are tied, every officer is aware of the APB, but right now they’re all needed, and he can’t spare anyone unless we have more concrete evidence that she’s his next target. There’s some big premier going on, and Patrol is needed to help out with traffic.”

“Thank you for trying, sir.” I understood, but I didn’t like it. “Can I get permission for me to follow her?”

“Marcy, you told me this morning that you hardly slept last night; you can’t,” Angel interjected.

I gave Angel a frustrated look. “Traitor,” I muttered.

“Look, I want to get this guy as much as you do, but not at the expense of your health.”

“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have approved it anyway,” Chenevert replied. “For one, we don’t have the budget. And secondly, Reyes is right. I don’t want you wearing yourself out. Either of y’all. We do have patrol making a few sweeps of the neighborhood and the areas around the churches. We’ll find him.”

“Yes, sir.” I was disappointed, but I couldn’t be angry.

At the end of our shift, I stopped at the grocery before heading home. I was tired of eating out, and I was frustrated with the case. Cooking sometimes relaxed me, so I decided I’d make dinner for me and Frank. He’d texted earlier to tell me that he and Timber would be over around seven thirty.

I picked up the ingredients for a meatloaf, fried potatoes, green beans, and some Hawaiian sweet rolls. I also grabbed some dog treats for Timber and another couple of cans of his food, and then went home. It was nearly six by the time I got in the house and put everything away. After changing clothes, I started cooking.

I’d put on some music and was singing along with it when I heard Frank pull into the driveway. His truck had a very distinctive sound, so I knew it was him. A minute or so later, I heard the door open and Timber’s claws on the hardwood floor. I was at the stove, stirring the fried potatoes, when Frank’s arms wrapped around me.

“Smells good,” he said before kissing me.

“Should be ready in about ten minutes. You want to feed Timber?”

“I can do that. Let me go change, and I’ll be right back.” He wandered back to the bedroom with Timber on his heels.

That dog was like his shadow these days. It made me smile.

After dinner we were sitting out on the patio, watching a movie on the outdoor TV, with Timber sprawled out on our laps, when my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, so the ringtone gave me no clue as to who it was.

I picked it up and answered, “This is Kendrick.”

A whispered voice said, “Detective, it’s Anna Domingez. I… I need help. Nathan’s trapped me in the back of his work van… I think he’s going to kill me.” Her voice was panicked and caught somewhere between sobbing and scared.

“Okay, stay calm,” I said, wiggling out from under Timber. “Do you know where you are? Can you see anything?”

She whimpered a little bit but murmured, “I don’t know. I’d have to sit up and look out the windshield. I don’t know if I can.”

“You’ve got to try, Anna.” I looked at Frank and covered the phone as I said, “I have to go; he’s taken his sister.”

“Be careful, TT. This guy is dangerous; please be safe.”

“I will.” I pressed a kiss to his lips as I headed inside the house to grab my gun, my purse and my keys. “Anna, can you see anything?” I could hear movement coming from her end of the line.

“I’m trying; he just turned and is slowing down; if he stops, I’ll be able to see.”

I could hear the radio playing Christian music in the background as well as Anna trying to move. I hurried to my car, put her on speaker and then sent Angel a text.

Anna’s on the phone. Nathan’s taken her. She’s trying to find out where.

“Okay, I see… the hospital… we’re on Wilshire Boulevard… going east.”

“I’m on my way. I’ve texted Detective Reyes, just try to stay calm, and stay on the line, tell me what you see, and if he makes any turns.” I got in my car, sent another quick text to Angel with the area Anna was in and asked him to call for backup, and put the siren on the dash.

“Wait, he’s turning; he’s getting on the 110… going north, I think…”

I pressed on the gas and pulled out of my driveway, and I opened the texts between me and Angel. I tapped it out and hit send.

N 110

Cars pulled over as they saw me coming, and I was grateful that they were cooperating. I didn’t want to worry about getting into an accident on the way to save Anna.

“What do you see now, Anna?” I asked. “I’m about three minutes away from getting on the 10. I’ll loop around to the 110 to try to catch up to you. I need you to keep me updated.” I was flying, pushing eight-five going up Hoover Avenue. I slammed on the brakes as I turned left onto Adams Boulevard.

“We’re still going north on the 110,” she whispered. “I just saw the sign for Border Grill on our right, so yes, we’re going north.”

I blared my horn at the cross traffic and swung onto Central Ave, heading north toward the 10. “That’s good, Anna; keep talking to me. I’m getting closer.” I signaled and turned right on East Seventeenth so I could use the on-ramp to the 10.

“We’re close to passing the fire department,” she murmured, sniffling as though she was trying to hold back tears.

I could hear how nervous she was, and I didn’t know how to keep her calm much longer. Especially if he stopped before I could get to them. “I promise I will get there, Anna. Just keep talking.” I bumped my speed higher, pushing ninety-five as I flew north on the 10 and changed lanes to pick up the 101.

“We’re still going north,” she whispered. “No, wait, he’s getting off… the exit by those apartments. I don’t know what they’re called…”

I swerved around a car that was too slow in getting out of my way as I pushed the horn. I was heading north on the 101, but I slowed slightly to see where they were going.

“I’m on the 101 right now, moving in your direction. I need you to stay calm and keep talking to me, Anna. What do you see?” I said. I took my foot from the gas and sent Angel an update that said exit after fire dept. It was the best I could do, as I was still trying to avoid hitting anyone.

“He’s getting on the 101 going east…” Her voice was so soft I almost missed it. “I can see Our Lady of the Angels up ahead on the right.”

“Okay, I’m coming from the opposite direction, almost to the curve to head west. I’m keeping my eye out for you; if he starts to get off the 101, tell me immediately.”

“Okay… wait, he’s taking that exit. I don’t… are we going to the cathedral?” She sounded confused.

“Where are you?” I asked. “What is he doing? Is he pulling into Our Lady of the Angels?”

“No… he’s passing it.” She paused and then added, “We’re at the stoplight, turning left.”

“What light, Broadway?” I was trying to think where my exits were in case I needed to quickly get off the 101. I needed a direction and quick.

“I think so,” she mumbled.

I sent another text to Angel.

N. Broadway.

“Still there?”

“The light’s changing; we’re turning.”

“Okay, just hang on…” I said as I looked for a way to get to her faster. It would be easier to navigate if I got off the 101. I took the next exit, which looped over to Ramirez Street, but I wasn’t sure which direction to go after that. “Still on Broadway?”

“No, he’s turning right on Cesar E Chavez… where is he taking me?”

I quickly signaled left and turned onto Ramirez. “I don’t know, but I’m trying to get to you as fast as possible, Anna. Detective Reyes is too, and we’ve got Patrol en route as well.” I was trying to reassure her, but without knowing where we were going, it was hard to make promises.

“He just turned left… onto Main.”

Chinatown. He was taking her somewhere in Chinatown. I made a right onto North Vignes Street and let Angel know Chavez to Main. “Still on Main?”

“Yes, but I don’t know where we’re going.”

I pressed down hard on the gas pedal and raced toward Main. “I’m close, Anna. I can see Main. I’m almost there.”

“We just passed a school…”

A school… I knew there was an elementary school on North Main… she was about a mile and a half ahead of me. “I know where you are… keep talking to me.” I texted Angel again.

Past Ann Elmtry.

I knew it wasn’t the correct spelling, but Angel would understand.

I slowed as I made the turn onto North Main and then picked up speed again. I could hear Anna breathing hard. I knew she was nervous. As I drove, I focused on what was in the background of her call. The music was loudish, which in a way was helpful because it had to be keeping Nathan from realizing Anna was talking to me, but I was worried about her getting caught.

“We’re crossing the river.”

“Okay, I’m not far behind; just stay calm…”

“We’re turning…”

“What street?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t see the sign…”

“Did you see anything before the turn?”

“Something about a dog?”

“A dog… The Zen Dog?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

I could see it several blocks ahead of me. I followed, making the turn onto Lamar. I sent Angel the new location and continued to trail after them. I didn’t want to spook Nathan, so I turned the siren off, but kept the lights.

“He’s stopping; he’s going to find out I’m talking to you…”

“Where are you?”

“Near the train yards… he’s pulled off the road.”

“I’m almost there. Put your phone in your pocket, I’ll be listening, and I’ll be there in less than two minutes, I swear,” I said and prayed I was right as I texted Angel where I thought they might be.

Cars swerved to get out of my way as I raced down the road without my siren. I flew past the San Antonio winery and took the turn that led toward the train tracks.

I hoped I wasn’t too late.

36

HOSTAGE SITUATION

ANGEL

Thursday Night

See you in a few.

Iread the text again, feeling a well of excitement build in my chest. I’d asked Jill to dinner tonight, but she’d been stuck finishing a case when I’d gotten off shift. She’d said she’d meet me at the Short Stop at seven thirty, so I’d gone home, showered, and changed into jeans and a polo shirt. Now I was seated at a table, waiting for her to arrive.

I didn’t care if she was coming straight from work, she could show up in a sack cloth and I’d be happy to see her. Something about the woman had captured my heart. She was like a stick of dynamite and burned bright. And the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to be with her.

The door opened, and Jill swept in. My jaw hit the floor at the sight. Her long blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing her face and making her look almost angelic. She wore an emerald-green sundress that hugged her torso and flared at her hips. It swirled around her legs, hitting just above her knees.

She hadn’t seen me yet, so I stood up. The moment her gaze met mine, she lit up like the sun and moved toward me.

I met her halfway to the table and pulled her into me. “You look stunning,” I murmured as I leaned in to kiss her.

“And you look pretty perfect yourself, Ángelus.” She smiled as she said my full name with a perfect Spanish accent, and I about fell over.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and guided her to our table. I pulled out her chair and helped her into it, then gently moved it toward the table before taking my own seat. “I haven’t ordered anything yet. I was waiting for you.”

“I already know what I want,” she said, her gaze on me as her smile widened.

“Do you now?” My heart was beating double-time at the look in her eyes.

The waitress appeared, and it took me a moment to remember what we were doing here. She took Jill’s order, and then I gave her mine. We’d both gone for their burger and fries and soda instead of beers. I wanted to be sober for whatever was going to happen tonight. She’d driven here, so I knew she didn’t normally drink at all if she was going to be driving.

“How was your day?” I asked. “You said you were still finishing up a case when I left?”

“Yeah, more kids shoplifting. This group were all under fifteen. We’ve had our hands full with these mobs of kids. They’re going to ruin their lives if they keep it up. And the parents… you should see how weak they are when they come to get their kids. It’s like they’ve never told them no, and the kids rule the house. They need to be knocked upside the head or something to put them on the straight and narrow again, if they’ve ever been there. I keep hoping us charging them will wake them up, but we’ve been seeing a lot of repeat offenders.”

“I can see that being a problem, letting the kids be in charge. We don’t deal with that very often. That last big case we had was probably the most I’ve dealt with teens in the last few years.”

We talked a little more about work, and then I said, “Tell me about this ranch you’re taking me to this weekend.”

“It’s my family’s ranch, well, my older brother’s now. Mom and Dad retired and moved from the big house to a smaller one on the property. He raises thoroughbreds and barrel-racing horses. Does quite a bit of training. He’s pretty sought after.” She looked proud of her brother.

“I take it he loves his work?”

“He does. Both of my brothers were born ranchers. They work pretty well together, which is good. Dale, he’s the older of my brothers. Drew is the younger one, but he’s still older than me.”

“You said Dale lives in the big house; what about Drew; does he live on the ranch too?”

“No, he actually has a place in LA and just drives to the ranch every day. He loves the ranch but wanted to give Dale his space when he got married, but I think it was more he wanted to be able to date without Mom and Dad being nosy.” She laughed.

Our food arrived as we were talking, and we dug in. We sat talking long after we’d finished our food and then moved from the table to the pool tables to play a few games.

We were halfway into our second game when my phone buzzed. I considered ignoring it, but something told me to check it.

Anna’s on the phone. Nathan’s taken her. She’s trying to find out where.

“Jill, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Domingez has grabbed his sister. She’s called Marcy for help.”

Immediately she was in serious cop mode. “Go. I understand. And be careful, okay? I don’t want anything happening to you.”

I smiled and pulled her to me. “I’ll be careful. Here, take my card to pay for everything. I’ll get it from you later.”

“Promise?” she smirked.

I kissed her and started for the door as I texted Marcy to tell her I was heading to my car now. I looked back over my shoulder at Jill and drank in the sight of her looking slightly worried but trying not to as she watched me leave. I smiled and waved before pushing open the door.

My phone buzzed again, and I looked down to see she’d discovered Nathan was driving east on Wilshire and wanted me to call for backup. I was still downtown, so it would take me a few minutes to get to Wilshire, and I had no idea where on Wilshire they were, but I figured if I headed for the archdiocese, it would be a good place to start until Marcy updated me. I put my siren on the dash and pulled out of the parking lot into traffic as I called it in.

I was on Venice Boulevard and almost to Vermont Avenue when the next text came in.

N 110.

“Damn,” I muttered. I had passed the 110 a few blocks back, so I had to turn around. I went onto Vermont Avenue, but instead of turning right, I went left and cut over to Washington Boulevard, backtracking toward the 110. I took a left on Union and then a right on Eighteenth to catch the on-ramp.

Most cars pulled to the far right lane, seeing me coming, but there were a few who had to be dicks and made me swing into the far left lane to get around them. Sometimes I wondered if they were trying to cause an accident, thinking it might lead to a payday for them if they were hit by a cop, but it didn’t work that way. It rarely ended in a payday and more than likely ended up in the death and destruction of people who had nothing to do with causing the accident.

Another text flashed on my phone.

Exit after fire dept.

I was just now passing where Domingez got on the 110. I was still a ways behind them. I wanted to text Marcy and find out where she was, but she was on the phone with Anna, driving and trying to keep me updated, which I then passed along to dispatch.

Another text came through before I reached the fire department.

N. Broadway.

It took me a minute to navigate how to get to North Broadway from where I was. I assumed he’d gotten onto the 101 and then took the off-ramp, so that was the way I would go. I was still at least ten minutes behind him. I pushed the gas harder and brought my speed up to eighty but had to slow down again as I got off the 110 to make the transition to the 101. There was too much traffic for me to be going at a high rate of speed.

As I took the curve onto the 101, she sent another text.

Chavez to Main.

I turned left onto Broadway, surprised I was getting closer. He must have gotten stopped at a light.

Past Ann Elmtry.

I saw the text flash and realized they were still on Main as I turned onto Chavez. As I was making the turn onto Main, another text came through.

Right on Lamar.

I had to wonder where Nathan was going. I figured that he probably had somewhere in mind when he’d taken her. He’d want somewhere that was void of people, somewhere that wouldn’t draw a lot of attention. The only place I could think of that might fit that description was the train yards. Instead of turning on Lamar, I turned on Gibbons Street. Thinking I could get to where they were faster, but I’d forgotten that half the road was one way, and ended up having to turn left onto Cardinal and then right onto Lamar.

As I made the turn onto Lamar, Marcy sent a text.

Train yard.

I was just down the street now and pushed to get there faster. I swung onto Plaza San Antonio, and I could see Marcy’s siren light flashing up ahead and to the left, down one of the paths that led toward the train yard.

As I got closer, I saw Nathan hauling his sister toward something, but I couldn’t make out what it was in my headlights. I watched Marcy get out of her car and start toward them. She didn’t have her weapon drawn, and I wondered if she was going to try to talk him down. She was dressed in leggings, a T-shirt and running shoes, with her holster on over the T-shirt.

I rolled the window down and turned off my siren as I got closer so I could hear what they were saying. I wondered where patrol was and realized I hadn’t told dispatch where we were. I picked up my radio and said, “Officers need assistance at the train yard off of Plaza San Antonio. Suspect has a hostage.”

“Patrol is five minutes out,” dispatch answered.

“Stay back!” Nathan screamed, and I saw a flash of silver in the light. He had a knife, and it was pointed at his sister’s throat. He was dragging her toward a pile of wood with a cross in the middle.

I revved my car engine and pushed on the gas. I wasn’t going to run them down, but I was hoping to put the fear of God into him and make him drop his knife. Marcy stepped to the side and spun toward me as I passed her. I was five feet from Nathan when he let his sister go and ran to the side. Unfortunately, Anna ran in the same direction, and now my SUV was between them and Marcy. I slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park, then grabbed my service weapon from my glove box.

Swinging the door open, I jumped out to confront him. Marcy came running up from behind my vehicle, and as we stepped forward, we heard the sirens from patrol getting closer.

“Nathan!” Marcy called out. “Nathan, that’s your sister, Anna; she’s not a demon!”

“No, you’re wrong! She’s possessed! I have to save her! She’s not herself, she’s not!”

“Nathan, you need to think… remember when you were a kid and thought you were seeing demons?”

“I was! It’s all true! God has called on me!”

“Nathan, you’re off your meds; you need help!”

“I’m doing God’s work!” he shouted back as several patrol cars with their lights flashing pulled into the train yard. He pressed the knife into Anna’s side, his hand shaking.

We needed to do something to get him away from her before he gutted her.

But what?

37

STANDOFF

MARCY

Thursday Night

Angel had about given me a heart attack with that stunt with his car. I knew he had some sort of plan, but I was pretty sure it hadn’t gone as he’d expected. I’d run around the back of his SUV to see him with his gun out and aimed at Nathan, who was holding Anna at knifepoint.

As I took a few steps closer, I tried to reason with him, telling him he was holding his sister, not a demon, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed to be slipping deeper and deeper into his delusions as he shouted about doing God’s work.

Taking in the entire scene, I could see he’d been out here before, setting this site up to rid his sister of the demon he imagined she was possessed with. There was a pile of wood set up like a bonfire with a large iron cross in the center. It looked like he’d been planning to burn her like a witch. The man was clearly not in his right mind. I needed to find a way to break him out of his delusion. To get him to see that what he was doing wasn’t what God would want. I needed to play to his faith.

“God wouldn’t want you to do this, Nathan!” I tried to get through to him as the world around us flashed red and blue.

“Lies!” he shouted at me.

“I’m not lying. I don’t lie. That is your sister, not a demon. You’d be killing your sister!”

“She’s not my sister anymore! She’s been possessed!”

“She’s not, Nathan. Look at her. She’s still your sister. She loves you. Just listen to her voice!” I tried again.

“Please, Nathan,” Anna sobbed. “Please don’t do this. I love you; you’re my brother.”

“Oh God… how do I deal with two?” He stared at me with a look of horror.

Two? I wondered for a moment, and then I realized that he was talking about me. My face must have been changing in front of him. It probably didn’t help with the flashing red and blue lights making everything look strange. It probably only exacerbated what he was seeing. “It’s all in your head, Nathan. This is part of your illness; it’s not real!” I said, taking another step toward him.

Angel hadn’t said anything, but he was moving forward right next to me.

“Shoot it! She’s possessed! You have to kill it!” Nathan shouted, turning his gaze on Angel as we tried moving closer still.

We were almost to him, maybe three feet away. “Nathan, we’re not demons! Wake up!” Anna shouted. “Please, please don’t do this!” she cried out, sobbing harder.

“Kill it; you have to kill it!” he continued to scream. “I can’t do this on my own! God be with me! Please help me!”

Now that we were closer to him, I could see how stressed he was and that he was in a manic state. I needed to get Anna from him. I reached out a hand toward him, hoping to get him to focus on me instead of his sister.

“Stay away from me, demon! God protect me from these creatures!” he choked out, his voice shaking. “Lord, I need You! I need Your power! Please help me defeat these monstrous demons!”

Anna screamed as he dug the knife into her side a little more. “Nathan, stop!”

I yanked my gun from my holster. I was going to have to shoot him, I thought, but I wasn’t sure I could do that without hitting Anna. He was half behind her at this point.

“No! No! Not you too!” His eyes were on Angel, and he had a look of absolute terror on his face.

Angel had holstered his gun and leapt toward him and Anna, reaching for her. Anna screamed as Angel got a hold of her arm and yanked her from Nathan’s grip. But Nathan’s knife was partially in her side, and it must have sliced her deeper because I could see fresh blood spreading across her shirt. Nathan screamed in terror, raised the knife, and swung it toward Angel.

It all happened so fast. I saw the knife come down toward Angel’s chest, and I pulled the trigger. Nathan’s hand fell away from the knife, but it was too late; it was embedded in Angel’s chest. Nathan dropped to the ground, dead from the bullet I’d put in his brain. Anna screamed bloody murder as she crawled over to Nathan. Angel was cussing up a storm, and my heart had stopped beating.

I was frozen in place, praying with everything in me that the knife hadn’t hit anything vital. I couldn’t lose him. He was my best friend. My partner. My family. The world went topsy-turvy in my mind. There was shouting and crying and people rushing toward us.

And then the scene came back into focus, and I rushed to Angel. “Oh my God,” I breathed out when I saw the huge knife sticking out of his upper chest.

He reached for the knife, but I cried, “Wait!” before he yanked it out and did more damage. “Don’t touch it; let the paramedics,” I said. “Get me the fucking paramedics!” I screamed. “Now!”

“They’re on the way, ma’am,” one of the patrol officers said.

“It hurts like a son of a bitch,” Angel gritted out.

“I know, I know, my God, what were you thinking?” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks as I wrapped my arm around his waist and led him away from the chaos. “You’d damn well better not die on me, you hear me, Angel Reyes? You aren’t allowed.”

“I’m not going to die.” His breath was ragged and labored. “I’ll be okay.”

I couldn’t tell if he was just putting up a good front or if he knew he would be okay, but either way, I knew I wouldn’t survive if he didn’t.

38

AFTERMATH

MARCY

Thursday Night

As I helped Angel into the passenger seat of his SUV, I waved the paramedics over. “Hurry!” I yelled at them, unable to keep my fear from making my voice shake.

The medic took one look at Angel’s chest and the huge handle of the knife lodged there and immediately radioed for a stretcher. He helped Angel onto it while Angel gripped my hand.

I was terrified of letting him go, afraid this would be the last time I saw him. Tears slid down my cheeks.

“I’ll be okay,” he kept repeating.

“I’ll see you at the hospital. I have to—” I choked, not wanting to leave his side. I didn’t want to stay here. I didn’t want to have to do my job, but I couldn’t just walk away. I was in charge of the scene. It was our case, and we couldn’t both go.

“It’s fine.” His breathing was very labored, and he was pale as a ghost. “Go do what you have to do. I’ll see you after. Swear.”

I turned to the medic. “Do not let him die. Do you understand me?”

The medic’s eyes went wide at how harsh my tone was. “He’s in good hands, Detective. We’ll keep him stable and get him help.”

“Good.” I took a step back and watched as they loaded him in the ambulance. I had flashbacks to Frank getting shot. The two of them and my brother were the most important people in my life, and I would do anything for them.

The ambulance doors closed, and a moment later the siren switched on, and it started to pull away, taking part of my heart with it. I was frozen in place, staring after it, wishing it were me in there and not him. Why did he think it was a good idea to get that close to the deranged man? If he’d just waited, I could have found a shot, found a way to resolve all of this, and he wouldn’t have been hurt. I blamed myself. He should never have taken that chance.

I knew why he did it. It was the same reason Frank had jumped in front of those kids and gotten himself shot. These two men in my life were heroes. It was a part of them. Something deep in their psyche that made them take chances they probably shouldn’t take. It was the same drive that firefighters had running into a burning building. The same drive most cops had in active-shooter situations. We always ran toward the danger. And just because I understood it didn’t mean I had to like it when one of my people got hurt. And Angel was more mine than the LAPD’s. He was more than my best friend. He was my lifeline. Just as much as Frank was now. But it was different than with Frank.

With Frank, I’d burn the world down to avenge his death. But Angel. For Angel I’d travel to hell to bring him back. I’d give my life to save his without even a second thought. I’d argue with the devil himself just to keep him on this plane of existence because the world needed Angel Reyes.

“Ma’am, the CSI team’s arrived,” a voice said from behind me.

I wiped my cheeks and tried to compose myself before turning around to take on the crime scene. A few deep breaths and I was ready to get through this as quickly as possible so I could head to the hospital to check on Angel. An image of that knife in his chest flashed through my mind again, and I nearly cried out, but I swallowed it down.

“Right. Where are they?” I asked when I turned around. I realized it was Garcia who’d come to talk to me.

He directed me to a group of people approaching.

“Okay, I want Plaza San Antonio blocked off,” I said. “Keep everyone away from this scene. No comments to the press. If I hear one word about Detective Reyes being hurt on the news, I will hold you personally accountable.”

Garcia’s eyes widened. “Yes, ma’am.” He started running toward a few of the other patrol officers, yelling directions.

I didn’t care that I’d scared the crap out of him. I didn’t want Angel’s name or injuries getting out and having the news reporters speculating on what had happened to him and whether he would live or not. As I walked toward where Nathan had fallen, I pulled out my phone and texted Frank. I needed him to be my eyes and ears at the hospital.

Babe, scene is secure. Angel was injured. He’s on his way to Good Samaritan. Can you go?

Frank immediately texted me back.

Are you okay?

I’m fine. I need to know that Angel is. Please go make sure for me.

I’m already out the door. Love you, TT.

Love you too.

Knowing I could count on Frank to watch over Angel made me feel calmer. I took charge of the scene, directing various patrol officers to secure the scene, and then greeted Lindsey and Damien. “Hey, sorry to bring you out so late,” I said, feeling shaky as the adrenaline began to wear off.

“Looks like you got the guy; what happened?” Lindsey asked.

Damien dropped down to the ground by the body and shifted the head. “One shot?”

“I was close to him, didn’t need another; still wasn’t fast enough to keep him from stabbing Angel. It’s my fault. If I had taken the shot earlier—” My fingers clenched into a fist at my side.

“I’m going to need your weapon,” Lindsey said as she held open an evidence bag for my gun.

I handed it over without a fuss. I kept seeing the entire night playing out over and over again as I stood there while they asked questions and worked the scene. “Um, so I got the call sometime after nine. It’ll be on my phone. I caught up to them, was maybe a minute or two behind them. Angel was a minute or two behind me.”

“How did his SUV get so close to the scene?” Lindsey stared at his car.

“I don’t know exactly. I can tell you what happened and what I think his plan was, but you’ll have to talk to him—” My voice broke as I thought again of where he was.

Lindsey grabbed my arm and pulled me away from everyone. “Take a deep breath. Angel is going to be fine. Say it.”

I nodded, took a deep breath, and said, “Angel is going to be fine.” I could still hear the fear in my voice.

“Again.”

I closed my eyes and tried to put some conviction in my voice this time. “Angel is going to be okay.”

“Good. Now, tell me what happened when you reached the train yard.” Her voice was firm and assuring.

“Angel drove toward Nathan, who was holding Anna at knifepoint. I think his idea was to force a fight-or-flight reaction from Nathan. Which sort of worked. He let go of Anna and ran, but unfortunately Anna ran in the same direction, and he grabbed her again.”

“So he was trying to force Nathan to release her and split them up. What happened next?”

“I tried to talk to him as we moved in. I think he started to see me as a demon, and he grew even more panicked. He started digging the knife into Anna’s side…” I shook my head. “Damn, is Anna okay? I didn’t even check. I was too concerned with Angel.”

“She’s got a deep laceration to her side, might have hit an organ, but she was stable when they loaded her into the ambulance. It left before the one with Angel did.”

“Good,” I replied, hoping she was going to be okay.

“What happened next?”

“Nathan was trying to get Angel to shoot me, but instead Angel put his gun away. Nathan was beyond reason by that point. Angel grabbed hold of Anna and yanked her from Nathan’s grip. He was so close to him at that point. It was like everything slowed down, and I knew he was going to stab Angel, so I took the shot, but I was too late. He’d gotten the knife in before the bullet hit him.” I dragged a hand through my hair as my heart cracked again. “I really didn’t want to shoot him,” I said, my voice shaking. “I didn’t want to kill him, but I had to. I had to.”

“It was a clean shoot, Marce. You’re not at fault. I’ll make sure it’s in my report.”

I didn’t even care about IA doing an inquiry. I’d killed a man to save my Angel. I’d do it again without regret, but it still hurt my heart that I’d had to do it. Nathan hadn’t known what he was doing. Not really. He’d thought he was killing demons. He’d thought he was doing God’s work. His mind had screwed him over, and he hadn’t been able to see his way back to reality. I could feel bad about having to kill him, even though it had been a righteous kill. If I hadn’t done it, I had no doubt that he’d have pulled that knife out of Angel’s chest and struck him again.

“Thanks,” I murmured. “Do you need me to stay, or can I hand the scene over to you?” I asked. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.

“You can go. I know you’re anxious to get to the hospital, but I don’t want you driving; have one of the patrol officers drive you.”

I nodded and then glanced at Angel’s SUV. “I’ll need someone to bring Angel’s car too.”

Ten minutes later I was sitting in the passenger seat of my own car as Larry Braun drove me to the hospital. I didn’t make conversation. I couldn’t. I was too worried.

“I know you’re worried about him, but he’ll be okay,” Braun murmured. “If I can survive being shot, Reyes can take a little stab wound.”

I knew he was trying to reassure me, but it wasn’t helping. He hadn’t seen the knife. It was far from little. I nodded anyway. I gripped my phone tightly, torn between asking Frank for an update and trying to be patient. Everything was a blur from the moment that ambulance had pulled away with Angel. I had no idea how much time had passed, but it was possible that Frank didn’t have any information yet. I decided to text anyway, just to let him know I was on my way.

He’s in surgery right now, but the doctor was pretty optimistic that he’d be okay. Don’t worry, TT.

Angel was in surgery. Anything could go wrong. I closed my eyes and prayed hard that he’d be okay. He had to be. I sent Frank another text.

I’m nearly there. Thank you for being there for me. Love you. See you soon.

No other place I would be. Love you too.

Braun pulled up to the emergency room entrance. “I’ll park and bring you the keys.”

“Thanks, Braun, ’preciate it.” I got out and closed the door before rushing into the hospital.

I found Frank in the waiting room and went straight into his arms, then burst into tears.

Frank held me and rubbed my back, murmuring gently in my ear, telling me everything would be okay and that he loved me.

When I was calmer, I took a step back, at least as far as his arms would allow.

He wiped away my tears and handed me a tissue from a box on the registration desk. “Better?” he asked softly.

“I will be once I know he’s out of surgery and awake. You didn’t see that knife; it was huge.”

“The doctor said it was a hunting knife. It was a good thing nobody tried to remove it because it was serrated. It would have done more damage, according to the doctor.”

That had my heart frozen in my chest and my breath catching. I’d stopped Angel from pulling it out. I tried to shake the images from my mind as the emergency room doors opened, and Braun came in and handed me my keys, followed by Chenevert, Robinson and Jill Rice. I wondered how she’d known.

“Where is he?” Jill immediately enveloped me in a hug as her voice broke. “Is he okay? What happened?”

I could tell she was trying to hold herself together, and I felt a stab of jealousy sweep over me that I had to share my grief over him with her. I knew that was a ridiculous feeling, but it was what it was. I told her what I knew and what had happened as I heard Frank filling in Chenevert and Robinson.

“Was he not wearing a vest?” Chenevert asked.

I shook my head and then cringed. “Neither of us were, sir. There was no time⁠—”

“You take the time! For God’s sake, it takes less than a minute to put the damn thing on!” He looked irate. “This kind of thing could have been avoided if he’d had a vest on!”

He was right, of course. Had either of us taken a couple of extra seconds to put on our vests, maybe this would have turned out differently. But at the time, it hadn’t crossed my mind. Anna was on the phone and panicked, and my only thought was getting to her as quickly as possible. It wasn’t about me and my safety. It was about hers.

I looked up at Chenevert and nodded. “I know you’re right; we both should have had the forethought to put one on.”

“From now on, I don’t care what situation you think you’re walking into, you wear the damn vest.”

“Have to agree with the lieutenant, TT. It could be you in there having surgery. I don’t think I could stand it if you’d gotten hurt,” Frank murmured next to me.

Robinson stood by, nodding, a look of concern on his face as well. “It’s gotten very unsafe out there over the past few years for us. I’m going to make it mandatory. You wear the vest anytime you go out on a call.”

“Yes, sirs.” I nodded.

Robinson’s gaze flicked to Jill. “That goes for you too, Rice. And everyone except for our undercover guys since it might put them in more danger. We’re wearing the vests. I’m not losing any more cops to this kind of violence.”

A doctor pushed through the double doors and said, “Who’s here for Detective Reyes?”

I pushed forward at the same time as Jill. “I am,” we both said.

“We are, all of us are,” I added.

“He’s out of surgery, and he’s in stable condition. There were no complications, but we did have to remove a small portion of the upper left lobe of his lung. Thankfully once the knife went in, it wasn’t moved, and the serrated edge didn’t rip anything more. His left subclavian artery was nicked, but we were able to repair it without too much blood loss.”

“Can we see him?” Jill asked before I could.

I swallowed back another flash of jealousy. I really needed to get a handle on it because Angel wasn’t just mine. It was funny, but I’d never felt threatened or jealous of Callie when she was with Angel, but for some reason his being with Jill was causing this irrational reaction in me.

“He’s in recovery right now, so give us about thirty minutes to get him to a room, and then he can have visitors. No more than four at a time though. We don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said before anyone else could, and I felt a little bit of joy at being first.

“After you check in with Reyes, go home and get some rest, Kendrick,” Robinson said.

Chenevert glanced at the captain and added, “Come in around ten and talk to IA about the shooting, and then take the rest of the day and weekend.”

“Yes, sirs.” I nodded.

Chenevert paused next to Frank. “Make sure she gets some rest.”

“I will.” He wrapped his arm around me protectively.

I relaxed into him and breathed in his scent. In a way it calmed me and settled me more. We stayed like that until the nurse came to get us. Seeing Angel in bed, his shoulder bandaged, had my throat closing.

He turned his head and smiled, his eyes lighting up as he noticed Jill. “Hey, sunshine, doesn’t look like I’ll be able to go riding this weekend.”

She rushed to his side and kissed him. “I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re okay. You had me so worried.”

“Pftt, what, this old thing?” He gestured to his injury. “It’s nothing. A flesh wound.” He smiled and then turned his head from her to see me and Frank standing there awkwardly. “Hey, guys. Everything taken care of at the scene, Marce?”

I nodded, unable to make my voice work. I was so glad to see him smiling and seemingly okay.

“She’s been a bit of a mess,” Frank replied, squeezing me to him. “You’re her best friend, and seeing you stabbed scared the shit out of her.”

“Absolutely did,” I said, finally finding my voice. And now that I knew he was okay, I was ready to rip into him. “Why the hell did you get so close to him? He could have killed you, you ass!” I smacked the end of the hospital bed.

Angel gave me a sheepish look. “I didn’t even think about him coming at me with that knife. I was just trying to get Anna from him to give you a clear shot.”

“Well, you did that, but look at what it cost you! Don’t ever do that again, okay?”

“Deal.” He nodded.

I blew out a breath, and suddenly I was exhausted. I needed to be horizontal and soon.

“I’m going to get her out of here now that we know you’re going to be okay,” Frank said.

“Wait, before we go, how long are they going to keep you?” I asked, reaching for his hand.

“The doctor wants to make sure there’s no infection, but said I can probably go home Saturday morning.”

“I’m staying with you,” Jill announced.

Angel turned back to her and smiled. “I’d like that.”

I let go of his hand and smiled. The way he looked at Jill was close to how I looked at Frank. He needed this. He needed her. “We’ll let you get some rest. Text me if either of you need anything.”

Angel looked up at me. “We will.”

I walked out of the hospital with Frank, realizing I had no idea where my car was parked, nor did I care. “Take me home.” I leaned into him more.

Frank kissed the top of my head and helped me into his truck. “I know that put a scare into you, but I want you to know it scared me too, thinking it could be you lying in that bed.”

I pulled him to me as I sat in the seat, and he was standing outside the door. I drew him into a kiss that was filled with so much emotion it brought tears to my eyes. I loved him so much. “I know, and I love you.”

He smiled and closed my door, then got in the truck behind the steering wheel. “I know we talked about going away for a weekend after you wrapped the case, but if you don’t want to because of Angel, I understand⁠—”

“No. I want to go. And you heard Chenevert; after I talk to IA, I’m free. Angel’s got Jill; he’ll be okay.”

Frank reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers as he pulled out of the parking lot. “By the way, when did he start dating Jill, and what happened to Callie?”

39

SIX NIGHTMARES AND A FUNERAL

MARCY

Wednesday

My sleep was all kinds of messed up. The night we’d come home from the hospital, I’d fallen into bed, dead tired, but my dreams were chaotic and filled with nightmares to rival any horror movie. I kept replaying what happened, but in my dreams, everything had gone horribly wrong, and Angel had been killed. Frank had held me and comforted me until I’d fallen back to sleep.

The next morning I’d spoken to IA, but they’d quickly cleared me. It was the fastest they’d ever done that. Afterwards, Frank and I’d headed to the airport. His parents had picked up Timber while I was at the station, and they were going to watch him as we caught a flight to Monterey.

Originally, we’d planned to drive and take him with us, but with everything that had happened, we decided it needed to be just us doing something relaxing rather than hiking or anything too active. I’d called Angel before we got on the flight just to be sure he was still doing okay. My nightmares were making me worry that he was worse off than anyone had made out, but that was all they were, nightmares.

Frank and I had spent time in Monterey, where we’d visited the beach and the aquarium and enjoyed being together and reconnecting, but at night, the whole case haunted me. I continued to dream about the victims, Angel getting stabbed, and having to shoot Nathan. Frank had suggested that when we got home, I ask for a little more leave and talk to Dr. Fellows, which I did.

I’d done that on Monday and gone back to work on Tuesday. Angel was still out, which was understandable. He was taking the week, but he was meeting me and Jill to attend Nathan’s funeral. Anna had been extremely forgiving for me having to shoot her brother, but I still felt guilty about it. In the moment that I’d pulled the trigger, I’d been angry. I’d been so angry that I hadn’t even attempted to not kill him. I wanted him dead for even thinking about stabbing Angel. The fact he actually had managed to stab him made me even angrier.

I’d shared all of that with Dr. Fellows in our one-on-one session, and he’d told me it was a natural feeling but that I needed to find a way to forgive myself, or I’d probably continue having nightmares.

Entering Basil Parish, I was a little shocked to see so many in attendance. I supposed that everyone here understood that Nathan hadn’t been in his right mind and wasn’t really responsible for what he’d done. It was a tragedy all around, but it still surprised me that the people here were so forgiving of what he’d done.

I approached Anna and asked, “How are you doing?”

Anna sniffled and used a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “I’m okay. Really sore from the stitches and having my appendix out. It was nicked by the…” She trailed off and looked toward the casket. “Sorry, it’s still hard to talk about.”

“I get that. Once again, I’m really sorry about your brother. I had hoped for a better outcome,” I murmured.

She nodded. “You did what you had to. In the end, I think it was probably for the best. I’m going to miss him, but at least now he’s at peace.”

I glanced to the side and noticed more people waiting to talk to her, so I said, “If you ever need anything, you call me.” I squeezed her hand in mine, letting her know I was sincere.

“I will.” She gave me a tremulous smile as I moved away.

I took my seat next to Angel, and Jill sat on his other side. Angel had his right arm around her shoulder as she leaned into him. Suddenly I wished I was anywhere but sitting next to them. I dismissed that thought and turned my gaze to the front. Instead of wishing for something that I knew was wrong, I thought of Frank and wished he were here with me. I could use his support.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. I felt the space next to me shift and knew someone had taken a seat to my left. A moment later a familiar scent enveloped me as an arm came around my shoulders. I turned my head and looked up to see Frank seated next to me. I smiled, so relieved to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”

“You needed me,” he said simply, and kissed my temple.

And I did. I always would.

As I listened to Father Abrahams speak, I let go of the guilt and regret I was feeling over what had happened. I was sad about having taken Nathan’s life, but to save the people I loved, I would do it again in a heartbeat. There was no question about that. My love for them was stronger than my guilt and regret, and I was finally at peace.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Theo Baxter has followed in the footsteps of his brother, best-selling suspense author Cole Baxter. He enjoys the twists and turns that readers encounter in his stories.

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