know,” Anthony suggested. “Maybe evidence of who had been drugging the priests.”
“Why wouldn’t he have just called the police?”
“Maybe he didn’t have proof. Maybe he didn’t think you’d believe him.” But Rafe had suspected something supernatural, that’s why he’d called Anthony in the first place.
In light of the evidence of the men being drugged, everything made sense. Their odd behavior. Rafe’s unease, but unable to explain why. Why hadn’t Anthony seen it? He hadn’t expected the trio of humans. He’d been looking at demons only, not at the ritual of summoning one. He’d bypassed the process of elimination and looked only at the obvious. Had his personal arrogance jeopardized Rafe and killed the others?
Whatever Rafe had sensed that spurred his call to Anthony was the beginning of the ritual to bring Ianax from Hell. And perhaps, in light of the long-term drugging, one of the priests had been concerned and asked Rafe to come to the mission in the first place.
“Why did he write it in Latin?” she asked. “To keep the information from the priests?”
“They all knew Latin,” Anthony said. “The only reason to write in that language would be to keep the information from laypeople. Those who have reason to be at the mission. Repairmen, housekeepers, deliverymen.”
Skye asked, “Do you know a Dr. Wicker?”
Anthony couldn’t lie. “Yes.”
“And?”
“What do you want to know?”
“You want to help, right?”
“You know I do.”
“Then why were all these priests seeing a shrink?”
“I explained that to you. They’ve all witnessed evil.” Anthony remembered the conversation he’d had with Rafe right before he left Italy.
He thinks one of my men is communicating with a spirit. But he doesn’t know who.
“The bishop implied they were all mentally unbalanced.”
“Dr. Wicker is a psychiatrist specializing in helping those who have witnessed the worst man can do to man,” Anthony responded. He didn’t tell Skye about what Rafe had said. She wouldn’t believe him, and right now keeping her trust was his highest priority.
Skye frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Juan was supposed to call me after talking with Wicker.” She flipped open her cell phone. “No missed calls.”
Had he missed something? Was the rest of Skye’s team in danger? “Have you spoken to him?”
“Not since we saw the bishop yesterday, but that was late.”
“Call him.”
“Why?” she asked.
“This case is dangerous.”
“Well, if all you need is faith then he’s fine,” she snapped. “Juan’s the most devout Catholic I know.”
Anthony winced at the derision in Skye’s voice. He’d thought they’d been closer to a real understanding.
Skye said into her cell phone, “Hey, Juan, call me when you get this message. I’m on my way down to the morgue. Meet me there.”
She hung up, concern clouding her eyes. Before Anthony could say anything, she was justifying Juan’s inaccessibility. “He’s probably in the shower. It’s still early.”
“He’s married, call his wife.”
“How do you know he’s married?”
“He wore a wedding ring, did he not?”
Skye mumbled something, dialed. “Hi, Beth. It’s Skye McPherson. Has Juan left yet?” She frowned as she listened to the wife speak. “No, I’m sure everything’s fine. He’s investigating a difficult case right now. I’ll make sure he calls, I’m meeting him in thirty minutes. Right. Give the girls big kisses for me.”
She slowly closed her phone. “He didn’t come home last night. He called Beth after I talked to him about the fire and said he was working late and would sleep at the station.”
She called headquarters. “Detective Martinez, please.” A minute later, she hung up. “He’s not there.”
Anthony couldn’t placate her. His fear for the detective had grown almost as much as his fear for Skye. Whoever was responsible for Ianax roaming the earth had piqued Martinez’s
“Why wouldn’t he have just called the police?”
“Maybe he didn’t have proof. Maybe he didn’t think you’d believe him.” But Rafe had suspected something supernatural, that’s why he’d called Anthony in the first place.
In light of the evidence of the men being drugged, everything made sense. Their odd behavior. Rafe’s unease, but unable to explain why. Why hadn’t Anthony seen it? He hadn’t expected the trio of humans. He’d been looking at demons only, not at the ritual of summoning one. He’d bypassed the process of elimination and looked only at the obvious. Had his personal arrogance jeopardized Rafe and killed the others?
Whatever Rafe had sensed that spurred his call to Anthony was the beginning of the ritual to bring Ianax from Hell. And perhaps, in light of the long-term drugging, one of the priests had been concerned and asked Rafe to come to the mission in the first place.
“Why did he write it in Latin?” she asked. “To keep the information from the priests?”
“They all knew Latin,” Anthony said. “The only reason to write in that language would be to keep the information from laypeople. Those who have reason to be at the mission. Repairmen, housekeepers, deliverymen.”
Skye asked, “Do you know a Dr. Wicker?”
Anthony couldn’t lie. “Yes.”
“And?”
“What do you want to know?”
“You want to help, right?”
“You know I do.”
“Then why were all these priests seeing a shrink?”
“I explained that to you. They’ve all witnessed evil.” Anthony remembered the conversation he’d had with Rafe right before he left Italy.
He thinks one of my men is communicating with a spirit. But he doesn’t know who.
“The bishop implied they were all mentally unbalanced.”
“Dr. Wicker is a psychiatrist specializing in helping those who have witnessed the worst man can do to man,” Anthony responded. He didn’t tell Skye about what Rafe had said. She wouldn’t believe him, and right now keeping her trust was his highest priority.
Skye frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Juan was supposed to call me after talking with Wicker.” She flipped open her cell phone. “No missed calls.”
Had he missed something? Was the rest of Skye’s team in danger? “Have you spoken to him?”
“Not since we saw the bishop yesterday, but that was late.”
“Call him.”
“Why?” she asked.
“This case is dangerous.”
“Well, if all you need is faith then he’s fine,” she snapped. “Juan’s the most devout Catholic I know.”
Anthony winced at the derision in Skye’s voice. He’d thought they’d been closer to a real understanding.
Skye said into her cell phone, “Hey, Juan, call me when you get this message. I’m on my way down to the morgue. Meet me there.”
She hung up, concern clouding her eyes. Before Anthony could say anything, she was justifying Juan’s inaccessibility. “He’s probably in the shower. It’s still early.”
“He’s married, call his wife.”
“How do you know he’s married?”
“He wore a wedding ring, did he not?”
Skye mumbled something, dialed. “Hi, Beth. It’s Skye McPherson. Has Juan left yet?” She frowned as she listened to the wife speak. “No, I’m sure everything’s fine. He’s investigating a difficult case right now. I’ll make sure he calls, I’m meeting him in thirty minutes. Right. Give the girls big kisses for me.”
She slowly closed her phone. “He didn’t come home last night. He called Beth after I talked to him about the fire and said he was working late and would sleep at the station.”
She called headquarters. “Detective Martinez, please.” A minute later, she hung up. “He’s not there.”
Anthony couldn’t placate her. His fear for the detective had grown almost as much as his fear for Skye. Whoever was responsible for Ianax roaming the earth had piqued Martinez’s
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