5.4

Maybe visiting Jane had been a bad idea. The lights in the diner were too bright. They set every one of Grace’s nerves on edge. It felt as if an army of ants were crawling under her skin. SHe wanted to claw at herself, just to make the sensation stop. But there were other people in the small room with her, and they already looked as if they wanted to run- something just her mere presence did to most people. No need to make it worse. So, she sat there, dealing with the irritation while Tony glared at her.

“What?!” she said between clenched teeth. If she didn’t force her mouth closed, she would have yelled at him. God, she should have brought her jacket. It would have blocked some of the lights. Why couldn’t she have some kind of foresight.

The demon shook his head. “I don’t know why we’re here. We’re just going to give her false hope.”

“No, we’re not.” He needed to give Jane a little more credit. “If Lucifer were awake, Jane would be the first person he would go to. You know that.”Grace sighed heavily, placing her head in her face. “Maybe it’s a good thing he’s asleep. If he sees that bruise on her face, I’m dead.” The fallen angel had never outright asked, but Grace knew he wanted her to keep an eye on Jane. Why else would he have put her in the same apartment building?

“You’re already dead.” Grace shot the demon a look that made him smile. “I knew what you meant. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Yeah, well, you suck at that.” She sat back in the booth, eyes falling to the window. The hounds were just outside of it, eagerly waiting for her. They hated staying in one place for too long. “I should have killed him.”

Tony shrugged. “He’s going to die anyways. Lucifer will take care of that.” That was true. Though, it would have been much more satisfying if Grace could have done the honor. Unfortunately, the had been short on time.

It was Chase’s birthday. The thought sent her spiraling. She would have willingly, gladly even, ended someone’s life on the day she had given birth the most important person in her life. Oh, how far she had fallen.

Grace moved her eyes from the window, ready to put her mind to something different. She spotted Jane headed toward them. The young woman was decked out in her food smothered apron, tennis shoes, and her long dirty-blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her dark eyes had the focus and determination of someone much older than her sixteen years. She had two coffee mugs and pot in her hands.

“You guys have to buy something if you’re going to sit here,” Jane said, almost apologetically. “This is the cheapest thing on the menu.” The bruise didn’t look too bad, but it had only been a day. It was going to look a lot worse before it got better.

“No worries.” Grace offered the young woman a kind smile. “I just have to figure out how to pretend I’m drinking it.” Grace had come to discover that her body rejects anything that is not a heart. It had not been pretty or fun. She hadn’t realized how much blood was in her body until it was coming out of every orifice of her body. Worse cup of coffee ever.

“Just put it up to your lips every once in awhile and I’ll come by and pretend to fill your cup.” That was better than the plan Grace had come up with, which consisted of just ignoring it.

“Thank you.” Another smile before she pressed the cup to her lips and pretended to take a drink. It was annoying. Coffee had been one of her favorite things while she was just plain old Grace. Now, she was Grace the Sin Eater and couldn’t eat or drink anything she enjoyed before. Sure, eating the hearts of sinners were some of the best meals of her life, but it had nothing on a bacon cheeseburger. Fuck, she missed those things.

There was a lot she missed from her old life. Her job, her nice apartment, Chase, James. Oh god, James. Her chest constricted as if a snake wound around it. That man had dealt with so much shit from her, and he had still stood by her. Even when she was shoving him away, he stood there, waiting for her. Why couldn’t she have accepted her love for him before? She may have still ended up dead, but she would have been happier.

A hand touched her arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Are you alright?” Tony asked, his thumb stroking her arm.

She cleared her throat, taking her hand away from her chest. She hadn’t even realized she had been rubbing it. “Yeah. Just realizing how much I missed my family.” Jane had left to take care of her other customers.

“Your son, Chase?” Tony picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. Grace felt a stab of jealousy. She really missed coffee.

She nodded. “And James.” All of her sorrow was thrown into one sigh. “I didn’t realize how much I loved him until after I was dead. I just kept pushing him away.” She shook her head. “I think I was afraid of what I felt for him.” If she loved him, he could have left her. Just like her father did. But James wasn’t her father, and he wouldn’t have left her. Ever. Took her now to figure it out.

“They’ll be fine, Grace.”

If it hadn’t been considered rude, Grace would have laughed in her friend’s face. Instead, she just offered a shake of her head. “Chase, maybe, but not James.” The look on Tony’s face was nothing short of skeptical. “James has loved me since the moment he saw me. We were kids. There has never been anyone else for him, and there never will be. His love for me was all consuming. It was everything to him. The only person he loves more than me is Chase.”

Tony took another sip of his coffee. “No wonder you were scared. That’s a lot of love for one person to handle.”

Grace shook her head. “That’s not why I was afraid. I thought he would leave me.” Saying it aloud made her realize just how stupid she had been. “God, I was an idiot.” All she could do now was laugh at herself. “I really had my head up my ass on that one.”

“Yes, you did,” Tony said. Way to let her have it easy. “But there’s nothing you can do about it now. Showing up at his doorstep would only make things worse for him.”

“True. I would rather him think I’m dead than I just left him. It would kill him if he thought I left him.” He dealt with her rejection just fine, knowing that she loved him and only was pushing him away because of her own insecurities. But if he thought she left him, she had no idea what he would do. Whatever it was, she doubted it would be pretty.

Jane stopped by to fill Tony’s cup and pretend to fill Grace’s, and without a word she moved to the next customer. “What about you, Mr. Relationship Guru? Anybody special in your life?” The teasing tone brought a smile to Tony’s lips.

“You know just as well as I do that there isn’t.” It was rare for Tony to go out and do anything unless Grace dragged him to do so. If it weren’t for her, he would be content to stay in his apartment and work on his clothes.

“Maybe you should get out more.”

“Maybe, but we both know I won’t.”

Grace shook her head. “You can’t be alone for the rest of your life.”

It was a sight to see the demon roll his sunset eyes. “I have you.”

“Pfft. We both know I’m nowhere near your type.” And who was to say she would be there for the rest of his life. Sin Eaters were near immortal. The key word “near.” There was a huge possibility that someone bigger and badder than her would take her out.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I have a vagina for one thing.” Someone in the diner choked on their drink. That was what they get for listening into someone’s conversation. “And two, I’m a little more violent than you care for.”

“Both are fair points, but I never said that I exclusively date men. I do like women as well, just prefer men.” It was Grace’s turn to roll her eyes. “But you’re right. It probably is about time for me to get back in the dating scene. It’s been a while.”

“A few centuries is longer than a while.”

“It hasn’t been that long.” That was a little defensive. Grace was right on the mark then. It was about time her demon friend did something other than hole himself up in a room surrounded by fabric.

“We could always go out?”

“Right now?” There were already beads of sweat forming on Tony’s forehead. He wasn’t prepared for the night Grace was about to take him on.

“Why not?! It’s not like we’re really doing anything else. And it’s Saturday.” The expression on his face said that she was right, but he still didn’t want to go out. That was too bad. He was going to have fun that night even if she had to force him to.

Tony met her eyes and studied her for several seconds. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” There was a smile on her face as Grace shook her head. “Fine. But we need to go home and change. There’s no way I’m letting you go out in that.” He gestured to her clothes as if it were the worst thing he had ever seen.

There was nothing wrong with what she was wearing. Sure, people don’t usually go out in black jeans, black t-shirt, and military grade boots, but it was what she liked. It was so practical for what she did. But she would have to concede to Tony’s wishes if she wanted him to go out with her. “You’re not going to make me wear heels or something, are you?” She walked like a newborn calf when in heels. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“I don’t have shoes for you to wear.”

“All I have are these boots.” Grace indicated to her feet.

“I thought you had flats?”

A shrug. “If I did, they’re long gone.” It wouldn’t be the first time a pair of her shoes just disappeared nor would it be the last. She had a bad habit of misplacing things. To be fair on this point, she didn’t even remember owning flats after her untimely death. “I’m pretty sure I have tennis shoes somewhere.” That was if the black hole that seemed to swallow her things didn’t get those as well.

Flabbergasted, Tony shook his head. “That’ll work. It’s better than those fucking boots.” Grace’s lower lip jutted out in a pout. She liked her boots. “Let’s pay and then get out of here.”

The pair walked to the cash register and waited for Jane to ring them out. Grace turned around just as two men walked through the door. One black with tired eyes, the other white with a bright smile on his face. Both were obviously cops and had been there before considering how they just walked to seats. A tantalizing smell tickled the Sin Eater’s nose and her mouth began to water. The blonde was a very bad man. Andrew Wood level bad. And he would taste delicious. Too bad he was a cop. Made him off limits.

The other cop didn’t smell as good as the other one, but his scent was familiar. Grace had ran into that man before, but she couldn’t remember where. Then his voice drifted to her ears and her heart dropped to the deepest pit of her stomach. She turned back to Tony. “We need to get out of here.”

Something in her voice made his body freeze. “Why?” His voice was low enough only she could hear it.

“The cop over there, the black one, that’s the one that shot me at Andrew Woods’ place.” She took a quick glance over her shoulder. The blonde guy was looking at her as if she were going to be the next piece of meat on his platter. No one looked at her like that. No one. If she didn’t have better sense, she would have walked over there and showed him who the real big bad was.

“Shit. Jane better get here fast.”

“I’m here. I’m here. What’s the rush?” Jane asked coming from behind them and moving to the cash register.

“We’re going out, and I was afraid this one,” Grace pointed to Tony, “would change his mind.” The young woman didn’t need to know that one of the officers was actively hunting Grace for a murder she committed. Jane didn’t need to be brought into that.

Jane eyed the Sin Eater skeptically. “Uh-huh.” She knew Grace was lying, and Grace could see it, but she didn’t say anything. “It’s three bucks.” Tony handed her a ten and told her to keep the change. Even Grace cocked her eyebrows at that one, but no one said anything. They just headed out of the door.

The hounds were already anxious to get moving, but even more so feeling their Alpha’s fear. They practically ran down the street, heading back to their tiny home. Grace wanted to run with them, but thought better of it. Didn’t want to bring any more attention to herself than necessary.

One last glance at the cop and their eyes met through the window. They stared at each other as she walked down the street. He knew. She could see it, even though he made no move to go after her. He knew who she was.

Her eyes left his as she headed down the road. Shit.

*** *** ***

That was her. That was the woman that killed Andrew Wood, and King had just let her go. Some detective he was. Just watched her continue down the street with her boyfriend, glued to his seat. Fear keeping him seated.

It was how he had known it was her. The last time he felt that kind of fear was when he had walked into Andrew Woods’ house. His palms had been just as sweaty now as it had been then. His heart hammered against his ribs, and his shaky breath was the same. Everything was the same, so why was his reaction different? Why had he stayed seated?

Because you have no proof. All he had was a feeling. You can’t arrest someone because of a feeling. He needed solid evidence, and they didn’t have any. And the only person that could have identified her was now dead. Just his luck, too. A break in the case, but his star witness dead. This case was never going to get closed.

“You’re staring at that woman awfully hard,” Anderson’s voice drew him back into the diner. “Do I need to tell Tabitha on you?” The teasing was enough to eradicate the fear. “Though I don’t blame you, she was pretty attractive. Just my type.” Gabby didn’t look anything like that woman so King had no idea what his friend was talking about. Maybe his friend just liked to look at younger women. Some men were like that once they get married. Tabitha was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen so his eyes didn’t roam.

“That woman was Woods’ murder.” The conviction in his voice made his friend’s eyebrow cock. “I can’t explain how I know it, but I do. She’s our killer.”

“Alright.” Anderson leaned back in the booth. “I believe you. What do you want to do about it?”

“Keep coming here to put some pressure on her. Maybe she’ll start to get nervous and do something that we can get her on.” It was his only option. That was if she ever came back to the diner. Though with the friendly way she was talking to the girl waitress, she would be. At least, she knew the girl somehow. That could be his way in.

Speak of the devil. “What can I get you gentlemen to start with?” the girl, Jane her nametag read, asked them.

There was a fresh bruise on her cheek, but King ignored it. He was concerned but knew showing it would get him nowhere. The girl was the type to blow him off. He had seen enough to know, but he could guess how she got it. Either a boyfriend or her father. Could have just been a bystander, too, but usually it was either the boyfriend or the father. “I just want some coffee and french toast.”

“Coffee and the Two Plus Special.” Two pancakes, two pieces of back, and 2 biscuits smothered in gravy was what Anderson always got no matter where they were. The added bonus to this place was it came with hashbrowns. The man loved hashbrowns as much as he loved his children.

Jane wrote down their order. “Alright, I’ll get that right in for you.” She turned and froze. King couldn’t help but follow her eyes. A man stood not far from them, his eyes only on the girl. There was some familial resemblance with their blonde hair, dark eyes, and similar face shape, though Jane’s was a little longer, her chin a little more pointed. King guess the man was her father. “Dad,” the girl sniffled before rushing toward the man and wrapping her arms around him.

The man returned her hug gently before releasing her. With his fingers he turned her head, and his eyes hardened at the sight of the bruise, and King knew it wasn’t him that put it there. “We will speak of this later. Go. Take care of your customers.” He moved toward the counter. “Put my order in when you are finished.”

A smile on her face and wet eyes, the girl did as she was told. King’s eyes had yet to move from the one. There was something about that man that made it hard to look away. It was as if the man had entranced him. And then their eyes met, and the spell was broken. King couldn’t take his eyes away fast enough. Those eyes weren’t human. The way they looked at him as if seeing his very soul, was not a way a human looked at another.

“You okay there?” The smirk could be heard in Anderson’s voice. Nothing ever seemed to phase that man. He could stare down even the most monstrous of people.

“Yeah. Just a little exhausted.” No. He wasn’t fine. He was far from fine. Ever since the Andrew Woods’ murder, he had been far from fine. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder. And this was just another in the long list of weird shit he had to deal with. He was starting to get the feeling that he should have never taken the case in the first place.

5.1

For the first time since she left him, Detective David King was taking his wife, Tabitha, on a date. They were sitting across from each other in a dimly lit Italian restaurant, and Tabitha looked gorgeous. Her strawberry blonde hair was braided over her left shoulder, her pale skin glowing in the candlelight, and her thinly strapped turquoise dress showing off her thin shoulders, his weakness and one she knew all too well. There was a coy smile on her face and a light in her light blue eyes he hadn’t seen in many years.

He should have done this sooner, but had been too wrapped up in his career. Nearly lost his wife to it, still might lose her if he didn’t tread carefully. This date was an experiment. To see if there was still something there. A spark that they hadn’t seen in a long time. One he could feel right then, looking into her familiar eyes, the eyes their daughter had. He just hoped that she was feeling the same spark.

They had just been seated and received their menus when his phone started to ring. It vibrated against his leg and he ignored it. He needed to focus on his wife. He had decided that she was the most important thing to him, only second to their daughter, and he was not going to answer that damn phone. He wasn’t even going to pull it out of his pocket.

When it finally stopped it’s buzzing, Detective King let out a puff of air. For a second there, he had believed it was just going to keep ringing and ringing until he decided to pick it up. There was one last buzz, informing him there was a message, and then all was silent. He couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face. For the first time in he didn’t even know how many years, he ignored a phone call. A work phone call, no less.

There was no one else that would be calling him at that time. He had told Anderson that he was going on a date with Tabitha and didn’t want to be bothered unless it was absolutely important. That phone call might have been important, but he wasn’t going to answer it. He deserved a break. They could wait a few hours until this date was done. After all the shit he pulled, Tabitha deserved that much.

There was a knowing look in Tabitha’s eye. As if she had somehow heard his phone vibrating in his pocket. Or maybe something in his face gave it away. More than likely it was the former. Tabitha had always had a way of reading even the most minute expression on his face. He was an open book to her and she to him. So, when she got that glint in her eye, he knew a nervous smile would be his doom. But he gave her one anyways. It turned to guilt when the phone started to ring again.

A second call was never good news.

Tabitha rolled her beautiful eyes and flung out her hand. “Well, answer it then,” she said with a hint of a hiss. King started to protest, but was cut off. “They’re not going to stop calling until you answer.” Her arms crossed over her chest. The conversation and date were over.

Closing his eyes, King dug his phone out of his pocket and answered it without looking at the screen. “This had better be good.” There was a mild irritation in his voice that said he was going to rip someone a new one.

“We have a murder,” Anderson replied, sounding unusually quiet, making King’s ears perk.

“I’m not-”

“It’s the girl, David. The witness from your case. Her heart’s been cut out, and it’s missing.”

The world tilted, and King set his hand on the table to steady himself. Jessica Matthews was dead. Murdered. Possibly by the same person who had killed Andrew Wood. “I understand. Text me the address, I’ll be there shortly.” He hung before Anderson could say anything else. Didn’t want to hear anything else.

A soft, warm hand touched his. The nails were painted a light green, his favorite color. A detail he had failed to notice. His eyes moved up to the chubby fingers, then the freckled dotted arm, all the way to his wife’s face. There was a soft, understanding smile on her face. “Why don’t you take me home.”

All King could do was nod his head and stand. To be reduced to such a state made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t know what to do. Jessica had been a good kid. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Work with the wrong man. And now, she was dead. Dead just like the man that killed her lover.

The server came over with a smile on her face, and King just stared at her. “I’m sorry,” Tabitha started, taking his arm, “an emergency came up and we have to leave.”

The server’s gray eyes widened. “That’s not a problem. I hope everything is alright,” she called as King allowed Tabitha to led him out of the restaurant and to the car.

King sat in the driver’s seat, both hands on the wheel, staring out of the windshield. Tabitha next to him, waiting for him to break the silence. “I don’t want to go to this one, Tabby.”

“I know you don’t.” She reached over, giving his shoulder a hard squeeze. “But you have to.” A sigh left her, and she moved close enough to rest her head on her shoulder. “As much as I hate you leaving me, you’re damn good at your job. They need you there. The victim needs you there to give them the justice they deserve.”

His fingers brushed her braid, wishing her hair were down so they could run through it. “Can I come see you when I’m finished?” After seeing Jessica, he knew he was not going to want to be alone. He was going to need Tabitha with him, so she could help him out of that state as she had before.

Her eyes fell to his, a nice light to them. “You can, as long as you can deal with my racist father with Alzheimer’s.” There was a twitch at the corner of her lips. “You can’t get away with punching him in the face like you did at our wedding.”

“Probably not my best moment.” But damn was it satisfying. If only the bastard could have waited until after the wedding to start his shit. King hadn’t wanted to embarrass Tabitha, but he had managed to.

“He deserved it.” There was a hardness in her voice that he hadn’t expected to her. Didn’t expect his chest to swell either. “I’m more surprised the photographer was able to get a picture of it.” A picture that was hanging above the fireplace at her father’s house. He seemed very proud of that one. As if getting punched in the face was something to immortalize. Then again, Carl seemed to respect King after the incident. At least he stopped calling him Tabitha’s nigger husband and just Tabitha’s husband; still never called him by his first name.

“She was very good. I’m just happy you didn’t realize she worked for the department until after the wedding.” Abhilasha Singh was a crime scene photographer who did more traditional photography on the side. If Tabitha had realized that, she would have refused to hire the woman.

A smile graced Tabitha’s face. A real, full smile, showing off her crooked, coffee stained teeth. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me she worked with you. She was amazing! Doesn’t she still work with you?”

“Yep. She’s probably at the crime scene now.”

“Tell her I said ‘hi.’”

“Will do.”

“You feel better now?” She ran one of those fingers he loved so much down his cheek.

He nodded, a sad smile on his face. “Yeah. I can go there now.”

“Good.” A quick peck on the cheek and she was back to her own seat. “Now, take me to my dad’s.”

Smiling, King started the car. The smile faltered slightly when he felt a warm wind on his ear. If he wouldn’t have known better, he would have thought Tabitha had blown in his ear. But she was firmly seatbelted down in her own seat. This had been going on since he had left Olivia Gray at the mental institution. And he was starting to get sick of it. Someone/thing was fucking with him, and he was going to figure it out and make them regret doing it. No one makes Detective David King think he’s going insane. No one.

*** *** ***

“That’s my boy,” Gabriel started in the detective’s ear, “you make up with your beautiful wife.” He sat back in the back seat, half tempted to lick the detective’s ear to see how he would react. Thus far, he had reacted rather well to Gabriel’s stalking. At first panicking only slightly, and now, getting annoyed.

He was a very interesting subject, this detective. Most men would be checking themselves into the nuthouse. But this one. This one has been resisting his games. It was making it all the more fun for the angel. Gabriel loved his games.

The game he was playing with the detective was going to have to  be put on hold. There was a crime scene to attend to. A crime scene he was sure was intended to frame Grace. That was the gist of what he had gotten from the other detective. The phone call that had managed to make his detective turn cold and wish to run. The first he had seen of that. Not his beautiful wife, though. She seemed to know exactly what to do to make his balls stop their retreat into his stomach. A good woman. An amazing wife. The detective was stupid to let her try to walk away from him. Very stupid.

Then, most human men are stupid. They push their women until the walk away, and then lament on what they lost. Some of them even treat women as if they are the problem. It was a ghastly thought. Not that every woman was beautiful in Gabriel’s eyes. Some of them were monstrous creatures that had no reason to exist. But they did, if only to make the beautiful ones that much more so. It’s not like Father has a plan for anyone, no matter how much humans say so. He just lets the humans, and angels for that matter, do what they will.

Tabitha glanced into the backseat, staring at the spot Gabriel was occupying. The angel tilted his head to the side, his gray eyes lighting up. “Interesting. You can’t see me, but you can feel me.” His head tilted to the opposite side, too far to be considered natural. “You don’t seem to have any angel or demon blood within you. A djinni child would not have a human appearance. Which could only mean you have very mild psychic abilities. Some would just call you a sensitive.” More reason  for the detective to hold onto her.

All too soon they were dropping Tabitha off and heading to the crime scene. Gabriel had moved to the front seat and sat staring at the detective. The man’s’ dark eyes were on the road, but his mind elsewhere. Driving on autopilot. It was a good thing Gabriel was near immortal, otherwise, he might fear for his life. One wrong move and the detective would get himself killed.

Gabriel clicked his tongue. “No wonder she worries about you. How many times have you done this with her in the car? With your child in the car?” No answer. Not that he expected one. The man couldn’t hear or see him unless Gabriel wanted it so.

A devious smile crept on his face. “How would you react if I were to show myself to you?” Probably crash the car and die. A state Gabriel did not want the detective in. He was a good man. Good men were hard to find. Besides, someone had to be able to clear Grace’s name on this murder.

If only the woman had been more cautious. She wouldn’t have been suspected of murder at all if she had done so. There would have been no crime scene if she had been just a little more patient. But she just dove right in, killing Andrew Wood in a most gruesome fashion. It had been a deserved fate, but Grace might have inadvertently revealed the existence of the supernatural. Angel and demons enjoyed their time in the shadows.

“She burns, though,” Gabriel said to no one in particular. “Burns like my brother. If I hadn’t known better, I would have believed her to be his child.” Sadly, Lucifer had only ever taken one human woman to his bed. She had bore him Jane, a cute little half-human. Being a lover of women, Gabriel had many children. Most were dead or dying. He still took the time to visit them whenever possible.

The detective pulled into a parking lot, and Gabriel stared up at the apartment complex looming over him. There was a silence about it, letting him know that this was their destination. Up there, somewhere, was a dead body waiting for him to examine.

He turned to the detective. “I’ll see you up there, partner.” Nearly laughing at his own joke, he vanished and reappeared in Jessica’s apartment. Eight people milled about in the apartment, which felt like a hundred given the room’s size. One took photographs, some were making notes, and one, the other detective Gabriel presumed, stood staring at the dead body. His blue eyes were blank as was his face. No one seemed to notice the emptiness of him.

“That one unnerves me,” said a female voice. “He’s like a doll.” A smile lit Gabriel’s face when he turned and was greeted with the visage of Lilith. “Hello, Gabriel,” she greeted with her Mona Lisa smile. Her green eyes sparkling like gemstones. “It has been a long time.”

Gabriel wrapped the Queen of Hell in a one-armed hug. “Eons,” he said. A firm kiss was planted on her temple. “But it was reasonable for everyone to want to keep us apart. We did cause the first apocalypse on Earth. Those poor dinosaurs.” Lilith snorted and rolled her eyes. “I saw our little Tony.”

“Tannin. His name is Tannin,” Lilith said through clenched teeth. It put a smile on Gabriel’s face seeing her so upset. “I assume he was with Grace.” Not a question but Gabriel nodded nonetheless. “She’s going to be the death of him. The death of us all really.”

“There are worse fates in the world.” Not wanting to stick to this subject, Gabriel decided to change it. “This is Michael’s doing.” Michael had been itching for war since the first one had ended. He must have run out of patience and decided to start one on his own. Not that Gabriel could condemn him. Michael had been created for war. They had all been created for war. Michael just happened to like it more than the others. And his disgust for humans exasperated his destructive needs.

A sigh escaped Lilith and she pulled away from him. “I should have figured what he was planning. But I was dreadfully curious about his bedroom abilities. It was disappointing, to say the least.” Of course. Michael was a very selfish lover, according to his Sin Eater. How she puts up with him, Gabriel will never know.

The room seemed to grow quiet. A smile appeared on Gabriel’s face as he glanced through the door. “Ah. He’s my detective. Let’s see what he had to say about poor Jessica here.” Gabriel’s eyes slid toward the other detective. There was a smile on his face that almost reached the man’s dead eyes. He was good at pretending to be a normal human. Even made friends, it would seem.

“King,” the doll-man greeted. He tried his best to sound solemn, and to a human, it would have been perfect, but Gabriel had millennia to perfect his voice reading abilities and could hear the blankness of it.

The good detective nodded his greeting and went straight to Jessica’s body. He stared at her for several moments before standing up and turning to the doll-man. “This is not our killer.” The room grew silent as if everyone was waiting for him to continue. “The hole in the chest is not wide enough. It looks as if it were punched through, not chewed. And there are several blonde hairs between the victim’s fingers.”

“Ha!” Gabriel couldn’t be prouder at the moment. All the good detective needed was one look, one single look, and he knew that Grace was not Jessica’s killer. Tabitha was correct, the detective was damn good at his job.

Lilith turned to Gabriel. “Seems strange for Michael to get careless like that.”

“That’s because it wasn’t Michael. It was his Sin Eater, Lacey. She wants us to know what my dear brother is up to.” His arms slithered around Lilith’s thin waist. “Why don’t we talk about this over dinner. Human dinner,” he amended. “I would rather not witness you devouring little children.” Lilith’s eyes were wide and her mouth agape. “I’m just joking. I know you don’t eat children. Teenagers, on the other hand…”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Let’s save that until after dinner.” He started to lead her out of the room. “I believe I saw a Chinese restaurant down the road. We’ll just try to avoid all the playgrounds and schools along the way.”

“Really going to kill you.”

“I said after dinner.” Gabriel gave the doll-man and the detective one last look before he and Lilith vanished, leaving the humans to go about their business.

4.4

It was staring at Detective King with those black button eyes. Staring at him as his mother’s doll used to. Unlike his mother’s doll, the one Olivia Gray held was less worn; red dress still red, peach yarn face still peach, and it had all of its hair. Less picked at. He had always hated that doll. Didn’t know why he kept it after his mother had committed suicide. It was sitting in a box in his closet. Should have just buried it with her. Should have burned it. He could still burn it, though he knew he never would. It would rot in his closet, the moths slowly eating at it, like the maggots had his mother.

It took effort to tear his eyes from the doll and look at Olivia, and he regretted it. It was too much like his mother. Blank eyes, body rocking, and hand working (picking) at the doll. The only difference was Olivia was white with blue eyes and blonde hair and his mother was black with brown eyes and dark hair. It made him feel like a little kid again, frightened and unsure. He had spent years trying to make sure those emotions stayed away. It had been why he worked so hard. Too busy to feel anything but grim determination. Never stopped to think it would fuck up his marriage.

At least he was on the right path to fixing his marital problems. He and Tabitha were speaking on a regular basis, and sometimes they would go on dates with each other. She wanted counseling, but they had yet to agree on when. He wanted to put it off for as long as possible, afraid his mother might come up. He never told Tabitha she had committed suicide or was mentally unwell. All his wife knew was she was dead and that was all she needed to know. Skeletons could stay in his closet.

King cleared his throat. His dark eyes (his mother’s eyes) shifted to the paper in front of him. A list of questions he had asked Olivia, but had gotten no answer. Just her staring off, picking at that goddamned doll. A part of him wanted to take the doll from her, see how she would react. His mother had screamed and cried like a toddler until he gave it back to her. Once, she had hit him. That had been the last time he had tried to take it from her.

“It’s not nice to take what’s not yours.” The voice was soft, and hardly audible, but there was no mistake. Olivia had just spoken. King wanted to look around him, but there was no one else in the room but them. He was even more shocked when she continued. “The doll was hers. Not yours. You took it. You deserved to get hit.”

“What did you just say?” He had heard her perfectly, but was so dumbfounded by what she said, he could think of nothing else to say. She had not read his mind. There was no way in hell she had known what he had thought.

She lifted the doll from her lap and held it in front of her face. “They never believe me,” she said solemnly, shaking her head. She pulled the doll to her chest, stroking its hair. “Why don’t they believe me? I hear, I listen, I answer. So simple, yet they never believe.” For the first time, her eyes fell on his. “Why don’t they believe?”

That was the first time Olivia had said anything in the past three week he had been coming to see her, and King was not about to pass it up. If she kept talking, she might reveal something about her time with Wood and the woman who killed him. He gave himself a mental cheer for recording it. “Because it’s not natural.”

“Not natural.” Olivia’s eyes shifted around the room before landing on the detective once again. “Does that mean I’m not natural?”

King shook his head. “Not you. Your ability.”

She nodded as if confirming something she already knew. “My mom thought it was not natural, too. She hit me in the head with a tire iron. It’s why my brain doesn’t work right. You can’t ask her about it, though. She’ll say she didn’t do it. She told everyone my brother did it, and he went to jail for it. I wanted to tell the truth, but she said if I did, she would hit me again. She did anyways. Never with a tire iron. With other things. Like hands and feet and books. I like to read.”

Not exactly the information King was looking for, but it was still good to know. It gave him more clarity on what made Olivia tick. Maybe the next time, he’ll bring her a book to read. And have a little conversation with her mother. A very serious conversation. “What kind of books do you like to read?”

A small, pleased smile appeared on Olivia’s face. “I like romance. And fantasy. Nothing scary though. I don’t like to be scared.”

“I’ll have to ask your doctor first, but maybe I can bring you a book next week.” He started to gather his things, the conversation nearly over.

Olivia nodded, visibly please. The rocking stopped, but she continued to stroke the doll’s black yarn hair. “It was an angel, you know.” King froze, waiting for her to continue. “An angel told Andrew to kill all those women. He didn’t know it. Couldn’t see it. But I could. I watched it whisper in his ear. He didn’t always listen. The angel wanted him to kill me, but he wouldn’t. He wanted to keep me. Andrew liked me. Said he wanted to marry me. Sometimes he talked about killing me though. He scared me.”

King took a deep breath to clear his head before speaking. He hadn’t expected her to talk about Andrew so soon, and the fact that he had an accomplice changed everything. It was damn good he hadn’t touched the recorder yet. “What did this angel look like?”

Olivia shook her head. “Don’t know. I can’t see them well, or demons. They’re kind of blurry. I can hear them though. It was a man angel. He had bird feet. But they all have those. His wings were white. Not all of them have wings.” She lifted the doll in front of her face. “Andrew couldn’t see him though. Not many people can. Only the half people can. Half people and their babies. But the babies can’t always see them. I can hear them more than see them. None of them are very nice.”

“How often do you see these angels?” Not a normal question a detective would ask, but King found himself very curious. It was obvious the girl was not right in the head, suspected she hadn’t been since her mother hit her, but it didn’t mean he should blow her off. If anything, he needed to take what she was saying seriously. What she believed to be angels, might be perceptions she had or people she had seen, just couldn’t remember properly.

“A lot of the time.” The doll was crushed against her chest, her blue eyes staring in the distance once again. “They are in a lot of places. There is one right here.” She pointed right next to him.

The hair on the back of King’s neck stood on end. It had to be a trick of his mind, but he swore he felt someone breathe on the his cheek as soon as she pointed. It’s all in your head, he told himself, trying to calm down.

“No it’s not. He just touched you. His name is Gabriel. He likes you. He told me to talk to you so I’m talking to you.” She nodded her head. “He’s one of the nice ones. There’s not many of those. He likes humans. Wants to help us. Make sure He doesn’t get out.”

He. The single word left King uncomfortable. As if a thousand eyes were on him, a thousand bugs crawling on his skin. He shifted in his seat, but kept his eyes on Olivia, hoping she would continue to take his discomfort away. But she said nothing. If he was going to keep her talking, he was going to have to ask a question he didn’t want to know the answer to. “Who’s He?”

Her blue eyes fell on him and her head tilted to the side. “The Devil,” she answered with a blink. She made it sound as if he should have known the answer. “He wasn’t supposed to wake up, but he did. The lady who saved me woke him up. She didn’t mean to. It just happened. Like me. I wasn’t supposed to be born.”

King was about to open his mouth for condolences and assurances, but Olivia’s face suddenly changed. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched. “I’m done talking,” she growled. “I have a headache.”

If that was all he was going to get from her that day, he was okay with it. He could always come back another day. No point in irritating her to get more information. “I’ll leave you alone then.” He smiled as he stood up and gathered his things. “Thank you for talking to me. I’ll be back sometime soon with a book.” Her eyes lit up, but the sour look on her face didn’t disappear. It must have been one hell of a headache.

As quick as his feet could carry him, King left the building, making sure to inform the nurse on duty he was done speaking with Olivia. He seemed to be relieved to be able to take her back to her room. King suspected a slight attraction, though one that would never go anywhere. “Oh,” the nurse turned around, his light brown hair falling into his green eyes, “Dr. Carter would like to speak with you.”

Dr. Abigail Carter was an attractive woman. She had long slender legs, a tiny waist, ample chest that her black v-neck showed off, and short strawberry blonde hair, just like Tabitha. Her gray-green eyes had a brightness that many in their fifties did not have, and her crooked smile hinted at secrets. She was the kind of woman he would have dated, if he had not been married.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked as he shook her hand from across her desk. Her hands were calloused, hinting that she did some manual labor at home. Gardening perhaps? She didn’t seem like the gardening type of gal, but people always surprised him.

She considered him for a few minutes in silence before answering him. “How often can you visit Olivia?” Dr. Carter had a naturally low, sultry voice, even when questions, such as this one, had no sexual nature to them. It made the tips of King’s ears burn.

King had an idea of where it was going, but he didn’t know why. “Currently, I’m coming as often as I can.” About once a week. He would come twice a week if his schedule allowed it, but there were other things to do at the station. Some minor cases to work on. Mostly cases that solved themselves. Captain Williams was trying not to overload him before his imminent retirement. He was grateful for it, but getting a little bored. If only this case would go somewhere. The sooner it was done, the sooner he was done.

Dr. Carter smiled, leaning forward, giving King a nice view of her cleavage. “I would like you to continue your visits, even after you close this case.” King stayed silent. Waiting for the woman to continue while she waited for him to ask “why.” When he didn’t, she started to speak again. “Olivia does better when you come and visit her. She still doesn’t talk a lot, at least not to me, but she is noticeably better. She pays attention and rocks less. There have been a few times when she has left her doll inside her room.

“She was never right to begin with.” A little harsh for a doctor, but it was the truth. Brain damage does that to people. “But she is slowly become more like her old self. She used to enjoy going outside and interacting with the other patients during her group sessions, and she seems to be coming back to that. I believe you are to thank for that, and I would like you to keep coming for as long as she has to remain here, or I say otherwise.”

There was no reason to say no. King had planned to come once a week until the case was solved, what was a few more months? At the rate the case was going, she could be out of the institution before it was even solved. Or Dr. Carter could decide that he was no longer needed. Besides, if he was helping her, what did it take out of his time to stop by and see her. Olivia seemed like a nice girl, and he could help her get back on the track of becoming a functioning human being again. And Tabitha would kick his ass if he said no. “What do you want me to do.”

“Basically what you’ve been doing. Talk to her. If she talks, listen to her. Answer if she asks a question. Just interact with her. Make her feel like a normal person.”

Easy enough. “She actually spoke today.”

Dr. Carter raised an eyebrow. “Color me surprised. I didn’t expect that to happen for a while.” A grin spread across her face as she went in search of Olivia’s file in the shelves behind her. “What did she talk about?” an excitement was in her voice that was near contagious.

“She likes to read books. Romance and fantasy, nothing scary.” That reminded him. “I would like to bring her something to read, if that’s alright.”

When the file was located the doctor returned to her desk, opening it. “Yes, of course you can. Before you do, inform me of the title so I can look through the book and make sure there is nothing that will upset her.” When she found a blank page in the file, Dr. Carter started to scribble furiously. “Is that all she spoke to you about?”

“She told me that her mother hit her in the head with a tire iron, blamed her brother, and then continued to abuse her.” There was no way in hell he was going to mention Olivia’s ability to read minds (he had a hard time believing that one still) and her ability to see “angels.” It was possible the doctor already knew that, but there still was no reason to bring it up.

Dr. Carter set her pen down, folding her hands over it. “I regret not going to the police on that. There was patient/doctor confidentiality to look at, and they wouldn’t have believed me. Olivia had already told them at the hospital that her mother had done it, but her mother convinced them that she was confused. I didn’t know about the continued abuse. It seemed her mother made sure to keep that one well hidden.”

King raised a hand to make her stop. The amount of shame in her voice made him uncomfortable. “Not really much you can do about it now. Just make sure she gets better. I have to go.” He stood and Dr. Carter stood with him. Both reached out to shake hands. “I’ll be sure to get back on you with that book.”

“I look forward to hearing from you.”

They released hands and King left. No sooner had he gotten to his car when he got a call from Anderson. “Hey, come get some lunch with me.” The tone let him know Anderson wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Where at?”

“Debbie’s Diner.”

A nice hole in the wall that cops go to to get free coffee, which sounded good right about then. “Aright. I’ll be there in twenty.” He hung up before his friend could demand anything else from him. “Goddamnit,” he muttered under his breath, slamming the car door shut. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, feeling that breath on him again. His heart hammered in his chest as he started the car, and drove off. The entire time he drove, he convinced himself he had not seen his window fog up.

3.5

Coffee, the dark nectar of life, was amazing at injecting caffeine into a groggy mind, but there was only so much that it could do. For instance, if you have stayed awake for longer than twenty-four hours, a pot will not do you much good. Detective David King was finding that out. He was making his second pot when his phone rang. He fumbled with the thing in his pocket before he was able to answer. “Hello,” he said, his gruff voice laced with agitation.

“Oh wow, someone isn’t having a good evening.” It was Anderson. There were times when King was happy to hear Ben’s voice, this was not one of them. If he could reach through the phone and choke the asshat, he would have gladly done so.

King pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder to take a sip of his coffee. “I haven’t gone to sleep yet,” he admitted. In all honesty, he hadn’t even known what time it was until his friend had called. 8:45. He was late for work. Surprised no one had called him before then. Captain probably had something to do with that. “You don’t call to chat. What’s going on?” Not when there was work to be had, at least. Anderson did call every once in awhile to talk or invite King to get a beer, an offer he took him up on most of the time. More so, now that he was alone. Tonight, however, he was all business.

“Doctor Phillips wants to talk to you.”

It was never good when Phillips, Bates City medical examiner, wanted to speak with anybody. That meant there was something strange with the examination. “I’ll be there in twenty,” King said and hung up, no time to say goodbye. Twenty minutes didn’t leave time for a shower, so he had to pray that he didn’t stink as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, not even bothering to change clothes. Gross, he knew, but he was on a bit of a time limit.

It took King fifteen minutes to reach the medical examiner’s office; his best time yet. The office was a lone, stout brick building with double steel doors as an entrance. There were limited windows and every one of them had bars going across them. It had always felt, to King, that whoever designed the building was trying to keep the dead from getting out. He knew that was not the case. It was so people didn’t break in and destroy evidence, which had happened on more than one occasion; security measures had been taken to ensure it would never occur again.

Doctor Charles Phillips was in his office, on the first floor, waiting for King. “You look like shit,” the good doctor informed him, never one for white lies. Doctor Phillips was a plump man with a head that grew out of his shoulders, skipping the neck. His eyes were so dark, they were almost black. A combination which had earned him the nickname Owl. To enforce the nickname, he wore horn-rimmed glasses.

“Is that your medical opinion, Chuck?” The glare King received from the shorter man could have melted ice. Chuck, in Phillips opinion, was the most idiotic nickname you could ever call someone named Charles. Owl wasn’t much better, but the latter would at least get a chuckle from him. “What do you got for me?”

“Some fucked up shit that I don’t know what to make of.” That had to be the first time King had heard Phillips admit to something like that. He was a man that enjoyed the strange. Liked to point out the disturbing facts in a murder and smile as he did so (you had to have some kind of dark humor in his field). It had to be really fucked up for him to say something like that. King waited for the man to continue. “C’mon. I’ll show you.” Oh yeah, this was fucked.

The medical examiner’s building was three stories, one on top, a basement, and a sub-basement.. The pair went down to sub-basement, which was where the morgue resided; the basement was nothing but filing cabinets full of records and old reports. The corpse of Andrew Wood was still on the examination table. All of the blood had been cleaned off of the man, making the gaping hole in his chest all the more out of place.

“I called as soon as I was finished examining the body,” Phillips started, walking to the other side of the table, “I thought you would want to see this.” Not really, but it was part of King’s job to look at such things. He really didn’t know what he was looking at, aside from a body missing a heart. So, he prompted Phillips to inform him. “This heart was not cut out.”

That certainly got the detective’s attention. “What do you mean it wasn’t cut out?”

“Do you see these marks?” Phillips pointed out scratches on the visible bones. King nodded. “They’re teeth marks.” Okay. They were teeth marks. What exactly was the significance in that. The lack of sleep slowed down King’s thinking. Phillips gave him an annoyed glare. “Something ate his heart out of his chest. While he was still alive, mind you.”

No. That wasn’t possible. Only an animal was capable of doing something like that, and there were no signs of anything other than humans in the house. No prints, no hairs. Not to mention there had only been handprints, human handprints, on either side of the body’s chest. A human could not eat through human bone. Jaw muscles were not strong enough. “Are you sure they’re not tool marks?” King knew he was insulting Phillips just a bit, but there had to be another explanation. There just had to be.

“Nope. They are definitely teeth marks. From what, I have no idea. Not my field. I’m having someone come by and look. She should be able to let us know what it could be.” Phillips covered the body, finished with the macabre show. “I can tell you, whatever it was, it was pretty big.”

Jessica has said something about a big dog, but the detective tossed the thought aside. He already knew no animals had been in the house. No use coming back to it. “When will your expert arrive?”

“Tomorrow, but I really don’t think she’s going to be much help. I have never seen anything like this before, and I’ve dealt with animal’s before.”

King cast a skeptical eye. There had to be some kind of animal that matched these marks. This murder was unusual, but it was not unnatural. “Let me know what she says.” He would have preferred to be there when she arrived, but he was going to have to sleep sometime.

“Will do. I already faxed my full report to the station. It should be on your desk by now. I emailed it, too. Just in case.” The fax was more for the Captain than King. Captain Williams was less technically inclined than most, though he was just a short five years older than King.

The pair headed out of the room, and up the stairs. Only King left the building, Phillips returning to his office. The air outside was nice. A little on the warm side, but there was a nice cool breeze to even it out. It was also quiet; the medical examiner building was on the border of Bates City, and was the only building active building in the area. Quiet enough he could think. Mostly about Woods’ heart. He still couldn’t fathom the idea that something had ate the man’s heart, while he was still alive. What would drive someone, or something, to do such a thing?

When King reached his car, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket. When he saw the name on the screen, he froze like a deer in the headlights. It was his wife, Tabitha. Ex-wife. He was going to have to remember that. Well, sort of. They weren’t technically divorced. They were never going to get back together, but they were still married. Yeah, didn’t make sense to him either.

After the third ring, he picked up. “Hey, Tabby,” he said, hoping she couldn’t hear the drain in his voice. She, being his wife, always knew when he was exhausted on the phone. He was trying to avoid a lecture.

“Hello, David.” It was so nice to hear her voice. That was the first time she had called him since their separation. Hearing her calm, gentle tone had always put him at ease, made him feel loved, and it did the same still. “How have you been doing?”

“I’m doing good.” Just a little white lie. No need to made her worry about him. She had enough on her mind with her father, Owen, and his Alzheimer’s. He wanted to be the last thing on her mind. “How about you?”

“Doing okay. Could be better. Could be worse.” A silence fell between the two, neither knowing what to say. King could imagine her tugging at the end of her strawberry blonde hair as she tried to think of something to say, which she finally did. “I heard someone killed your killer.”

King rested his head on the roof of his car. Not exactly where he wanted this conversation to go, but he felt it necessary to respond. He still wanted to hear the sound of her voice. “Yeah. I’m trying to catch them now.” When the news caught wind that The Crucifix Killer had been murdered, there was celebration. People were glad the streets were safe once again! What they failed to realize was that someone possibly much worse had killed the man. They just gave credit to some good samaritan. It was wrong, but not their fault for believing that. The details of Andrew Woods’ murder had not been made public. No one knows what that woman did to him. If they did, they would not be so happy. Just as scared, or more so.

Another silence, this one much different than the first. Tabitha wanted to say something, King could feel it, but she didn’t know how to put it into words. There was a murder to solve, but he could give her the time he hadn’t before to collect her thoughts. “Get off the case. I have a really bad feeling about it. Please, get off the case.” There was fear in her voice. Genuine fear. Tabitha had gotten bad feelings before, she believed herself to be a “sensitive,” but had never sounded terrified as she did right then.

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” he sighed. Since he walked into Woods’ house, something had been telling him to get out. To get off of the case. Hell, to get out of town. Something, he didn’t know what, was going to happened, and it wasn’t going to be good. Woods’ death was just the beginning. Tabitha just confirmed that fear. But he couldn’t go, couldn’t get off the case. A morbid curiosity had taken hold. He had to know who that woman was. Had to. No matter what, he was going to find out.

King practically felt Tabitha’s jaw clench. She knew exactly why he was staying. “Fine. Just be careful. I don’t want Anderson to have to call me to tell me you’re dead.”

“I’m always careful,” he tried to reassure her.

“No, you’re not,” she replied, her voice trembling. King’s heart shattered. His wife was scared. Terrified for his safety, and it was mostly his fault. Getting off the case would be easy. All he had to do was tell Captain he wanted off, and that was it. Captain Williams had told him several times that if he wants off a case, or doesn’t want to take one, he didn’t have to. There were plenty of other detectives that would gladly do so. But King just couldn’t let go. He had to solve them. Had to know who did it and why. Had to face the monsters himself. It was the same this time, but he knew it was going to be dangerous. Felt it in his bones. Tabitha felt it, too.

Tabitha sniffed back her tears, and exhaled slowly. “I have to go. If I stay on here any longer, I’m going to cry, and then I’ll have to kick your ass.” They shared a chuckle, at the inside joke. The first time she had said that, was when he had asked her to marry him. She had started to bawl like a baby, and then got mad at him for it. Told him she was going to kick his ass for making her cry. She said it on their wedding day as well. It was during their first dance. Her head had been resting on his shoulder, her long, strawberry blond hair down and sway in time with the dance, and her normally pale face red and puffy from crying. She had whispered it in his ear so no one else could hear. It had been the second happiest moment of his life, the first when his daughter was born nine months after that.

“I love you, Tabby.” He poured his heart into those four words, hoping she could hear the love he still had for her. Even if they never got back together, he wanted her to know how he felt about her. She was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and gave him the greatest gift in the world.

“I know you do,” Tabitha said, and then hung up. That stung. Stung quite a bit. He wanted badly to hear his wife, say she loved him as well. It would have made it night. But he couldn’t blame her for not saying it. There was no doubt that she loved him, but she had been upset with him. Once again, he had chosen his job over her. She had just pleaded for him to drop a case, afraid for his safety, and he had blew her off. If the roles had been reversed, he would have been pissed as well.

King placed the phone in his pocket and got in the car. For ten minutes, he just sat there, thinking. Thought about Tabitha, what he wanted in life, and the case. He had to solve this case. No matter what, he had to do it. He was already on it, firmly latched, and couldn’t let go of that. But he wanted his wife back. That wasn’t going to happen unless he got himself off of the job. Retiring was an option. He had already done his twenty years. Had solved many cases as a detective. Captured many monsters. There would always be more monsters, but there will more people to catch them. The good were always outnumbered, but they would have to fight them regardless. He could always help as a consultant, if it was asked of him. But the case he was currently on had to be solved

His mind was made up. He started the car and drove to the station. When he informed Captain Williams of his intentions, the man looked at him, a grin on his face, and said, “About damn time.” At least one of them was enthused of his decision.

2.1

There was a lot more blood than Detective King remembered. It covered the first step completely and a pool next to where Andrew Wood’s body used to lay. The wall had splashes of blood on it and the second and third steps. There was even some on the front door. King couldn’t help but be amazed on how it got there.

The voids between the blood and the floor almost made a perfect outline of Andrew Wood. Made things easier. King saw where the body laid. Still didn’t give him any clue how the woman killed him if she did at all. He found it hard to believe that the petite woman he saw overpowered Andrew Wood, who was slim but strong. There were always more circumstances to consider. The body was found near the bottom of the stairs. He might’ve fallen, and the woman took advantage.

(He refused to believe he saw the woman hurdle the fence.)

King tore his eyes from the blood and headed toward the kitchen. There, they found a butcher knife (it’s always a butcher knife) with blood on it. It had already been bagged and taken in for evidence. In its place stood a folded, yellow card with the number six stamped in black. He was still waiting to hear on the blood and fingerprints. It was prioritized, but it would still take weeks or months to see results. At least, they can eliminate Andrew Wood’s fingerprints- King refused to call him the victim. The only blessing of this investigations. The woman found they alive wasn’t a blessing, but a miracle.

Olivia Gray was the name of the survivor. She vanished from her home over a year ago, right before Wood has started his little “artworks.” Much to her luck, Andrew Wood kept her. Infatuation had to be it, but King wouldn’t know until the woman talked. King wanted badly to go to the hospital and speak with her, but the doctor advised against it. Olivia had gone through a traumatic experience, and would scream at every man that walked into her room. She gotten violent with one had to be sedated.

She also wouldn’t slept until they gave her the sedative, too afraid to close her eyes. King understood. Olivia believed that if she closed her eyes, she would wake up chained in Wood’s basement. To her, being rescued might have been all in her head, having envisioned it so many times during her captivity. Fortunately for her, when she opened her eyes, she would still be in a hospital bed, albeit restrained.

Giving the kitchen one last glance, King headed into the dining room. There, they found the corpse of Penelope Adams. Wood’s latest victim. There were already depictions of a Bible scene carved into her body, the branded crucifix on her chest. King knew his Bible pretty well, but didn’t know the scene was on Penelope’s corpse. It might be because it wasn’t complete. Not that it really mattered anymore. The Crucifix Killer (he hated calling him that) was dead and it would not help him catch his newest murderer. He was sure she didn’t give a damn about the Bible. Just like Andrew Wood had known nothing about the Bible.

“What’cha thinkin’?” someone asked from the kitchen. King turned and spotted Kevin Anderson, a fellow detective and friend. Detective Kevin Anderson was tall, broad shouldered with short blond hair and blue eyes. Some ladies at the office liked him to a Norse God, especially when he smiled. King saw Anderson was extraordinarily handsome. Could have been a model or an actor, but he was a cop instead. King never bothered asking why. Didn’t matter. Anderson did what he loved, and that was enough. Though if he had chosen a different path, it might have been easier to take care of his wife and kids.

“I’m thinking if your shirt was smaller, you wouldn’t have buttons,” King shot at his friend, eyebrows raised. Anderson’s light green button up shirt was on the verge of busting at the seams. Normally, the man took extra care of his appearance, but it seemed he was in a rush that morning. Not that King could say much. He was in the same clothes he wore last night.

The man’s laughter sounded good on King’s ears. Been awhile since he made someone laugh. “Yeah, it shrank in the wash. Made it to the station before I noticed.” Anderson looked at the shirt. “Got no one else to blame. I tried to give Gabby a break. She’s always looking after the kids.” Gabby was a sweet and quiet woman. Sometimes, King thought something was wrong, since she looked no one in the eye. Anderson said she had always been like that so he ignored it. The kids, three of them, were outgoing like their father though. Nothing but smiles and laughter.

King nodded, feeling a little pang of loneliness. He had yet to tell anyone Tabitha, his wife, had left him. Wasn’t any of their business, and he didn’t want to talk about it. The only people he had spoken to about the separation was Tabitha and their daughter, Amber. Amber said she had seen this coming a long time ago and was surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. That stung. Stung more than he would have liked to admit. He knew it too, that Tabitha wanted out, but said nothing. Tabitha needed to figure it out, and then she finally did.

“So, what’re we looking at?” Anderson asked.

King couldn’t be happier at the change of subject. Though this topic wasn’t much better. “I have no fucking clue,” he admitted to his colleague. “We got a bloody knife in the kitchen, but the only blood in the house is from our dead suspect. We got a body with its chest ripped opened and no sign of its heart. A witness that claims our murderer had a dog with her, but no sign of any animals even being near the house.”

“Don’t forget the woman that can jump a six-foot privacy fence like its nothing.” Anderson was lucky looks couldn’t kill. “Woah! I’m not making fun of you, this time. The techs checked the fence and there were no scuff marks,” he explained at King’s confusion. “The neighbor confirmed that someone went into his backyard, too. Shame he didn’t see her face.”

Shame indeed. Jessica Matthews had been little help in that department. She had been inches, inches, away from the suspect, but couldn’t describe her. The sketch artist got so frustrated that he walked away. Just took his stuff, and walked out. No one at the department contacted him since. He left a partial drawing, but it wasn’t enough to put out in the public. It resembled nothing human.

Jessica had burst into tears when she saw the picture, apologizing for not being any help. King had given her a gentle pat on the shoulder, an awkward “there, there,” and sent her home. They would try again another day. Tensions were high and emotions wild with lack of sleep. King was feeling it though he refused to sleep. He wanted to look at the crime scene one last time, hoping to find something. All he found was frustration.

King glanced around him one last time, then headed to the front door. He was the murderer. “I come in through the front door,” King said, speaking loud so Anderson could hear. Physically running through a scene helped him get a clearer picture of what happened. Anderson was the only one that understood and will help him. “The light to the dining room is on, and I go there.” He headed to the dining room.

It was Anderson’s turn, playing Andrew Wood. “I’m hiding in the kitchen, waiting for the perfect time to kill you.”

“There is a body on the table. I look at it and then headed to the kitchen.”

“That is when I strike.” Anderson moved toward King and made a motion of stabbing the man in the stomach.

“On reflex I shove you,” King remembered about the scuff marks on the floor, “and remove the knife, dropping it on the floor.”

“This scares me. I get up and run to my bedroom and grab my bat.” This was where the re-enactment stopped. The blood kept them on the first floor.

“I follow you up there. I walk, knowing I have enough time to kill you.” They both move by the stairs.

“This is the part I don’t understand,” admits Anderson. “Just how the hell did she get him to fall?”

This is the part you don’t understand, King started to himself, not the fact that the woman was stabbed and kept moving? Aloud he said, “She kept moving until he was at the top of the stairs and shoved him.” It was what he would have done.

“So he falls, is dazed, and she cut his heart out while he’s still conscious.” Neighbors heard screams. “Man, that’s pretty fucked up.”

“Yeah. Even more fucked up is she took it with her.” Anderson’s eyes were wide with awe when he turned to King. “Yeah. We couldn’t find it anywhere.”

“Man. I’m happy I’m not the lead on this case.” Anderson laughed and gave King a hard pat on his shoulder. King winced. Anderson was a lot stronger than he thought and his love taps was hard.

“The biggest question,” and the case was riddled with them, “is how the woman knew Olivia was in the basement.” King looked at his friend and got a shrug in response. It wasn’t helpful, but it wasn’t Anderson’s fault, even King didn’t know the answer. They already ruled her out as an accomplice. She would have known where he lived and hadn’t needed to scare the piss out of Jessica Matthews (literally). Maybe Wood told her while she slowly dug out his heart, but that was even more doubtful. According to neighbors, there were no breaks in his screaming except for breaths.

“You should sleep on it,” offered Anderson.

Sleep sounded good. Sleep sounded amazing. It also sounded unobtainable. No harm in trying though. “Yeah,” King conceded, “you’re right. I’ll see you later.” King walked out the door, got into his car, and headed home. During the drive, he phoned the captain and explained what he had found, or lack there of. Captain gave him a “good job” and “see you tonight,” before hanging up.

The house was quiet when he got home. No one was there to greet him. He thought of getting a pet but pushed it away. He had barely been home enough to care for his wife, how would a pet fare? No. Being alone was best for him. Give him time to think about what he had done.

But first, he needed to clear his board. He had a new case to focus on. Sleep? There was no time for sleep. He would sleep when he was dead.

1.6

Detective David King of the Bates City Police Department stared at the woman across from him. She had short brown hair, sharp features, and was petite, five-two and maybe a hundred pounds on a good day. Her wide eyes were gray and stared at the ashtray in front of her. There was a lit cigarette pressed between her pink lips, the ash long from failing to be flicked. The smoke seemed to dance joyfully around her head before climbing higher and gathering in a swirling mass a few inches above her head. It was her third cigarette since King had entered the room, about an hour ago, and her hands still shook when she finally removed the thing from her lips and flicked the ash in the ashtray. Most of it landed on the table, annoying the detective immensely.

Detective King was reaching the end of his patience, but still he kept quiet. Jessica Matthews had went through a traumatic experience, and if pushed too hard, she might possibly shut down. She was attacked by a woman who was looking for her co-worker, Andrew Wood, who turned out to be the Crucifix Killer, the man that had killed her lover, Chelsea Davis. At that moment she was blaming herself for Chelsea’s death and wrestling with the feelings of enjoyment or despair of the murder of Andrew Wood, who she had believed was a friend. There was a lot on her mind and he could afford to give her a few more minutes. Not like he was going to catch the murderer overnight anyways.

While Jessica took a long drag off of her cancer stick, King turned to the left and looked at his reflection in the two way mirror. His age was starting to show, though he didn’t feel forty-two was that old. Gray hairs were peeking through his short black hair along the sides of his hair. Wrinkles had appeared seemingly overnight marring his once flawless dark skin. Along with crow’s feet, there were bags under his dark brown eyes revealing the exhaustion he felt, though not because of his age. That night had been a long one. He had already been pulling long hours, trying to figure out the Crucifix Killer and had been planning on going home when the call had come in. Someone had figured out who the serial killer was, and was planning on killing him.

He dropped what he was doing and rushed to the address that had been given. Never in all of his years as an officer and detective had he driven so fast, weaving in and out of traffic. When he had made it to Andrew Wood’s house, he was the first on the scene. The first to find Andrew’s corpse in front of the stairs with a gaping hole in the chest where his heart should have been. Dark blood was splashed along the walls and stained the hardwood floor, a trail of it leading into the kitchen. Ignoring the plastic-covered dining room, the only source of light, he headed into the kitchen in hopes of finding Andrew’s murderer in there.

A fear gripped him that he had never felt before. It had started as soon as he entered the house, but got worse the deeper he went in, careful not to step on any blood and contaminate the crime scene. His palms were starting to sweat and his hands shook, making it hard to keep a grip on his gun. Sweat was pouring profusely down his forehead and into his eyes. A tremor started in his breathing and he felt the paranoia of something watching him crawl across his skin. The fear and paranoia held him so tight that when a woman sprang from the basement, he had froze. It wasn’t until she had flung open the back door he had regained his senses and shouted, “Freeze!” When she did not, he had fired and chased after her. He got off two more shots, one of which he was sure had hit her, before watching her jump over a six-foot fence as if it were nothing.

As he had given chase, more officers had arrived, and searched the house. One of the officers had bravely traversed the basement and found the woman chained to the wall, babbling incoherently. When he got close to make sure she was alright, she started to scream and did not stop. The EMTs had to sedate her so that they could get her out of the chains and to the hospital. Detective King had decided to stay out of the way and had not caught a glimpse of the woman until she was carried into the kitchen. The state of her tore a hole in his heart. Clothes and skin dirty, but her hair perfectly clean. He had already knew something was wrong with Andrew Wood, but seeing that woman cemented the idea. Was he happy the man was dead? No. He had wanted the man in the hands of the law and dealt justice in the courts. That would have been much more satisfying for him. Instead, King got two dead bodies and another murderer to catch.

And that was why he now found himself in front of Jessica Matthews, hours later, running on no sleep. Since she was the only one alive and coherent enough that had seen the woman’s face, he was hoping to get a description good enough to put it out on the news. Maybe someone else had seen the woman somewhere and would be kind enough to call in a tip. Anything to get this case moving in the right direction so he could go home and sleep in his empty bed.

It had been six months since his wife, Tabitha, of nineteen years had packed up all of her things and moved out. The longest six months of his life, made longer with the Crucifix Killer case, the very reason his wife had left. She said he was too obsessed with the case and she could no longer handle it. She needed a break from him and it. No divorce papers were filed, but there didn’t need to be. The marriage was over and she would not be coming back. For a while Tabitha had been looking for a reason to leave him. The Crucifix case gave her the perfect excuse. He just let her go, knowing there was nothing he could do that would change her mind. Once Tabitha was set on doing something, she would do it. Didn’t stop him from continuing to wear his wedding ring though. He didn’t plan on finding someone else, and it just felt good on. Made him comfortable in this time of chaos. At least their daughter was older and living on her own.

Jessica took a long drag off of her cigarette and exhaled. “Never thought I’d see you again or this room,” she said, a humorless smirk on her face. The last time she had been in that room with Detective King was when Chelsea Davis had first gone missing. The girl had blonde hair and blue eyes and immediately King suspected that she had been taken by the Crucifix Killer. After the body was found there was one last interview with Jessica just to see if she could think of anything that she might have forgotten, a clue overlooked. A fruitless expedition, she being too distressed to recall anything. “Looks like you’ve aged ten years since the last I saw you.”

King gave a low chuckle though it had not been a joke. He knew he had aged quite a bit from the stress, but he hadn’t believed it was that much. Hopefully, Jessica was exaggerating. “Been a long night,” he retorted. “For both of us, I’m sure.”

A snort left the young woman as she snuffed out her cigarette. “That’s an understatement,” she said as she grabbed another cigarette from her pack sitting on the table. Normally, there was no smoking in the interrogation room, but it had been decided to let this one slide, though no one had foreseen her smoking that much.

She took another long drag, held it for several seconds, and then exhaled slowly, tilting her head to face the ceiling. “That woman, you should stay away from her.” She moved her head to look him in the eyes. “She’s not… normal.”

“What do you mean?” Anything to keep her talking. There might be something important in what she says, no matter how crazy it might sound.

“When she first came in my back was turned, but my hair stood on end and I felt a crawling sensation up my spine.” Her eyes had taken a distant look as she recalled the scene. Detective King decided it best not to interrupt her. Might make her lose focus. “I turned around and saw her, and knew there was something wrong with her. All I wanted to do was run, but I couldn’t move. At first I thought it was just me, but when I looked at the customer’s, they were backing away from her as well. A couple of them left.” That reminded the detective too much of the fear he had felt when he entered Andrew Wood’s house. It was too similar to be a coincidence.

“I greeted her like I usually do with every customer, and she immediately asked for An… him.” King never thought he could hear so much disdain from a single word. “I thought she was going to kill me when I said he wasn’t there. I think she might have if she hadn’t left.” She glanced down at the cigarette burning in her hand. “I’ve been trying to quit smoking. Up til today, I hadn’t had a single one. But that made me need one. I got one out of my boss’ secret stash and went outside. She was there waiting for me. Somehow, she knew I was a smoker. It was like she smelled it on me.”

Jessica’s breathing had quickened and she took a moment to calm down. “She threatened me and then took my phone. When she was calling him, she told me to play dead. I didn’t understand why, but I kept my mouth shut. While they were talking she started to go through my pictures. She found one with Chelsea in it. That’s when she figured out who he was.”

That was something he couldn’t’ keep quiet about. “Are you telling me she didn’t know that Andrew Wood was the Crucifix Killer before she came to you?” They had been going on the idea that somehow the woman had figured out who Andrew Wood was, had decided to take her own brand of revenge. Her motive. Hearing her say that changed the game. Now, as far as they knew, the woman had no motive to kill them man until after attacking Jessica. Just what in the hell had that woman been after?

“No, she didn’t. I was out of my mind with fear, but I saw the realization in her eyes when she saw that picture.” She flicked her ash and then took a hit. “She asked for his address and I gave it to her. I thought she would kill me if I didn’t.” That last bit was a lie, but the detective overlooked it, hoping no one else noticed. He didn’t think she deserved to get accessory to murder with all that she had been through. And it wasn’t like they could threaten her with it to get more information, since she was already telling them everything she knew. “She kept my phone.” They had already located it at Andrew Wood’s house. “I guess for the GPS or something. After that, she left.” She sighed and her gaze fell to her hands. “I wonder why she didn’t kill me?” It was said quietly, as if hadn’t intended to say it aloud.

The question might not have been directed toward him, but he answered it regardless. “You weren’t her intended target.” Jessica glanced up at him, confused. “Maybe she didn’t want to cause unnecessary bloodshed. She didn’t kill you because she didn’t have to.” His gut was telling him that was right. That this particular murderer only killed who was necessary. A hitman of some sort? But who would have wanted Andrew Wood dead? Yes, he was the Crucifix Killer, but that was the only thing that had been going for him. He was a barista, for God’s sake. Not really on the scale of importance. Unless he screwed up the wrong person’s coffee. Could be possible. He had seen people murdered for less.

“Before we let you go, is there anything else that you can remember? Anything that she could have said or done that caught your attention?” She really hadn’t given him too much to go on, but he hadn’t been expecting much. The last time they had talked, he had gotten the impression that Jessica was a bit of an airhead and really didn’t pay close attention to anything other than what she deemed important for herself.

There was several seconds of silence while Jessica played everything in her head. “She didn’t seem to know how to use my phone.” She gave a fake chuckle. “It’s funny really. A woman told me she would kill me if I ran away, and I can’t help but think how she couldn’t use my phone.”

“Was she an older woman?” The description Jessica had given the artist hadn’t been a very good one. Just that the woman had reddish-brown hair and she was about five-five. An approximate age would be nice though he didn’t think it was really going to help too much. It was something more than what they had to go on.

“No. She looked like she was my age, maybe a little older.” So early to mid twenties. “She also had a dog.” Detective King asked her if she could describe the dog. The look she gave him said that she would remember that thing for the rest of her life. “It was big. Bigger than any dog I had ever seen in my life. Like, bigger than me big. Black. Very black. I didn’t even see it until it stepped into the light. It’s teeth were long and sharp, and it’s eyes were yellow. I don’t know what kind it was, but it was not one I had ever seen before, or heard of.” She snuffed out her cigarette. “I know this is going to sound crazy and I know it can’t be true, but I got the feeling that the dog was just a puppy.” Her eyes met the detective’s and he could see that she was being serious.

Jessica threw herself back into her chain and started to rub her eyes. “I’ve told you everything that I know. Can I go now? I would like to take a shower before I go to sleep.”

Detective King allowed her to go, having no more questions for her. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his wide nose. At the moment, he had a dead serial killer that had his heart ripped out. The suspect was a woman in early to mid twenties, with reddish-brown hair, that was about five-five, and could hurdle a six-foot fence. Oh, let’s not forget the giant black dog that’s supposedly a puppy.

This was going to be one hell of a case. He hated it already.