she would never again let a man have the upper hand. Never again would she be the one who hurt, who yearned for something more. Her next relationship would be exactly as she decreed it.
So with that on her mind, she sat in her ritzy bed and breakfast, sipping heaven and munching on biscotti, contemplating the man she had spent last evening with, not even touching on the real reason she had come to this quiet town.
* * * *
They discovered the anomaly at the Ross crime scene while trying to take a candle wax sample. In the southwest quadrant of the circle, right next to the victim’s head, they had unearthed a flat, oblong piece of granite that the candle appeared to be seated in before removal. The rock had not been noticeable initially because it had been almost completely covered by the brown, baked clay native to the area. After re-photographing the site carefully as a precaution, the agents had begun to remove the dirt surrounding the stone, assuming at the beginning that the candle had been placed in a convenient, natural hollow. As they delved deeper they discovered that the stone had a smooth, almost finished feel. Carved into the bottom portion was a mysterious symbol. Upon further excavation they found that the resting place for the candle had also been precisely carved.
With this obvious intent in mind, they looked to the other circles of death and encountered what they most feared. In each of the five cases an almost identical piece of granite was discovered. In each case, the rock looked like it had been there forever. And in each case the same enigmatic symbol was carved into the base of the stone.
Samples of the clay and surrounding compost were collected for age analysis. To a man, or woman, the technicians were puzzled and more than a little dismayed. The Ross crime scene showed no recent digging around the area, yet the body could not have been there for more than one week at the very most. There would almost certainly have been some sign of digging around the rock if it had been placed at the time of her death.
Bill shared the same thoughts as the technicians as he slowly surveyed the scene for the third time in four days. Other than the absence of Kimmie Ross’ body, nothing had changed from his initial viewing. Squatting down in front of the unearthed stone he was struck by something, something once again squirming at the back of his mind. Rather than try digging it out, he let his mind run free, staring blindly at the pattern the dried and crackly buck brush leaves made at his feet.
Drebin was standing under an ancient black oak, surveying the scene as a whole, looking for the bigger picture. He was sure the location of each body played a significant role in how and why each body was placed, he just hadn’t figured it out yet. He looked over at the Sheriff, wondering what was going on in that brain of his. He could tell by Bill’s posture that he was as relaxed as a cop can get, but there was a fine tension underlying that casual demeanor. He was working on something.
Pushing away from the shade of the tree, Drebin entered the full force of the morning sun and winced at the brightness. Pulling on the Ray Ban shades that were almost a uniform to government employees, he sauntered over to the Sheriff, his easy gait betraying none of the uneasiness he felt looking around this desolate, brushy wilderness. Even though he and Ashton had been over the crime scene yesterday afternoon, he still got a chill down the middle of his back when his peripheral vision caught sight of the sinuous, ghostly aura of heat waves that arose even at this early hour.
“ What have you got, Bill?” Drebin hunkered down beside him, looking intently at the granite stone that had so transfixed the sheriff.
“ It’s a goddamned altar. I was reading up on some of this stuff last night. See this marking here?” He used a stick to point to the arcane marking. “That’s a sigil. It means something to him, and only him.
So with that on her mind, she sat in her ritzy bed and breakfast, sipping heaven and munching on biscotti, contemplating the man she had spent last evening with, not even touching on the real reason she had come to this quiet town.
* * * *
They discovered the anomaly at the Ross crime scene while trying to take a candle wax sample. In the southwest quadrant of the circle, right next to the victim’s head, they had unearthed a flat, oblong piece of granite that the candle appeared to be seated in before removal. The rock had not been noticeable initially because it had been almost completely covered by the brown, baked clay native to the area. After re-photographing the site carefully as a precaution, the agents had begun to remove the dirt surrounding the stone, assuming at the beginning that the candle had been placed in a convenient, natural hollow. As they delved deeper they discovered that the stone had a smooth, almost finished feel. Carved into the bottom portion was a mysterious symbol. Upon further excavation they found that the resting place for the candle had also been precisely carved.
With this obvious intent in mind, they looked to the other circles of death and encountered what they most feared. In each of the five cases an almost identical piece of granite was discovered. In each case, the rock looked like it had been there forever. And in each case the same enigmatic symbol was carved into the base of the stone.
Samples of the clay and surrounding compost were collected for age analysis. To a man, or woman, the technicians were puzzled and more than a little dismayed. The Ross crime scene showed no recent digging around the area, yet the body could not have been there for more than one week at the very most. There would almost certainly have been some sign of digging around the rock if it had been placed at the time of her death.
Bill shared the same thoughts as the technicians as he slowly surveyed the scene for the third time in four days. Other than the absence of Kimmie Ross’ body, nothing had changed from his initial viewing. Squatting down in front of the unearthed stone he was struck by something, something once again squirming at the back of his mind. Rather than try digging it out, he let his mind run free, staring blindly at the pattern the dried and crackly buck brush leaves made at his feet.
Drebin was standing under an ancient black oak, surveying the scene as a whole, looking for the bigger picture. He was sure the location of each body played a significant role in how and why each body was placed, he just hadn’t figured it out yet. He looked over at the Sheriff, wondering what was going on in that brain of his. He could tell by Bill’s posture that he was as relaxed as a cop can get, but there was a fine tension underlying that casual demeanor. He was working on something.
Pushing away from the shade of the tree, Drebin entered the full force of the morning sun and winced at the brightness. Pulling on the Ray Ban shades that were almost a uniform to government employees, he sauntered over to the Sheriff, his easy gait betraying none of the uneasiness he felt looking around this desolate, brushy wilderness. Even though he and Ashton had been over the crime scene yesterday afternoon, he still got a chill down the middle of his back when his peripheral vision caught sight of the sinuous, ghostly aura of heat waves that arose even at this early hour.
“ What have you got, Bill?” Drebin hunkered down beside him, looking intently at the granite stone that had so transfixed the sheriff.
“ It’s a goddamned altar. I was reading up on some of this stuff last night. See this marking here?” He used a stick to point to the arcane marking. “That’s a sigil. It means something to him, and only him.
Similar Books
