The Girl and the Deadly End (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 7)

by A J Rivers

  “Today, I come to you again to document the revolution. These videos must remain secret for now, but there will come a day when they will be used to tell the greatest story of our time… All will learn of Lotan and his awesome power… educate all people to what he has done and the world he is creating… privileged to be among his chosen and will follow where he leads… the power of Lotan is unlike anything… bow to him…”

  I tear my eyes from the screen and look at Sam, Eric, and Dean in turn.

  “Lotan will guide the way… Lotan is everything… bow to him… Lotan shall bathe the Earth in blood and fire. See the glory of chaos.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “What did you find?” Sam asks, coming into Greg’s room with coffee.

  Dean comes in behind him with three covered breakfast platters from the cafeteria. He hands them out, and I thank him, opening a package of plastic silverware and sliding out the black fork.

  “There are apparently a couple of fringe celebrities with the name, but nobody significant enough to even be on my radar, much less be deserving of slavish devotion. It sounds like a cult.”

  “So, still no idea,” Sam says.

  I pry the top off my plate and chew through a few bites of scrambled eggs.

  “Not necessarily. Eric is back at headquarters running the name to see if anything else pops up. If there are any known criminals or investigations with that name, he’ll find it.” I point to the screen with a piece of potato pierced on the end of my fork. “But there’s also this.”

  “What is it?” Dean asks.

  “A website about Hebrew lore,” I explain.

  Sam leans around me to read the description.

  “According to this, Hebrew lore refers to a seven-headed sea monster named Lotan, who fought against the god Baal but was defeated. Lotan is often considered the beginning of the concept of Leviathan, a sea monster in Hebrew tradition.”

  “And a whale to Christians,” Dean points out.

  “Like the postcard from Catch Me,” I say. “The whale exhibit from the Smithsonian.”

  “So, Martin was ranting about his devotion to a sea monster?” Sam raises an eyebrow. “I’ve heard of some incredibly ridiculous cults before, but nothing like this.”

  I shake my head.

  “I don’t think it’s an actual sea monster,” I say. “It means something. He’s talking about Lotan like a person, but he’s not saying it like a name. Think about Murdock. It’s not a name. It’s a title, a descriptor. Lotan is a specific entity, and apparently, Martin believes whoever Lotan is has a tremendous amount of power and is going to take over the world.”

  “He must have missed the detail that Lotan was defeated,” Sam points out.

  I keep reading, hoping for further details that might help me understand.

  “One thing I’ve learned is cult followers rarely make sense when you really dig down deep into what they say. On the surface, it can seem extremely well-thought-out and precise, but when you start peeling back the layers, the cracks appear. Martin is devoted because he was told to be devoted. He’s blinded by his commitment to the power this person has over him. Something convinced him Lotan deserves his total adoration and willingness to do anything to show it,” I say.

  “Does anything else about it make any sense? Does it mean anything to you?” Sam asks.

  I shake my head slowly.

  “No. Wait.”

  “What is it?” Sam asks.

  I read through the information again. Before I can answer him, my phone rings, and I see it’s Eric calling.

  “Did you get anything?” I ask as a way of greeting.

  “No,” he sighs. “I went through every record, cold case, and investigation database I have access to. I might have gone through a couple I don’t technically have access to. Nothing with the term Lotan came up.”

  “Try Leviathan,” I say. “Catch Me sent a postcard with the whale exhibit from the Smithsonian. It said it was good to be home. I thought that was just pointing to him being here. But what if it’s more than that? I’m sure there are plenty of postcards he could have chosen from. It would seem a fairly miraculous coincidence he chose the specific one that has links to the words Leviathan and Lotan.”

  “I’ll look into it,” Eric says.

  I hang up and open the screen Paula showed us again.

  “Let’s find out what else Martin has to tell us about Lotan,” I say.

  The rest of the videos are just as confusing and broken up as the first one we watched. We watch through each of them, turning the volume up as high as we can without alerting everyone on the floor to what he’s screaming. Parts of what he says blank out, but they are all similar.

  “More of the same,” Dean says after the fifth video. “Nothing he says makes sense. He’s just ranting and rambling about the same things. Lotan being all-powerful. He’ll bring about a new world. Chaos and destruction.”

  “Bringing about a new world,” Sam says like he’s thinking through the words even as he says them. “Isn’t that like that Society cult you infiltrated?”

  “If by infiltrated you mean got kidnapped and nearly killed by, then yes. They talked about a new world coming… but it doesn’t seem the same. That group was all about separating themselves from the outside world and preparing for the new world that was promised to them by God through their leader. Martin is talking about Lotan, almost like he is God, like he’s going to be the one to create the new world. Not like it’s something that already exists and is just coming.” I let out a long breath. “He keeps talking about chaos and destruction, but he doesn’t seem upset or scared about it. I think that’s what he wants.”

  “Let me look at that page about Lotan again,” Sam says.

  I bring up the site again and look at him curiously.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “You saying that made me think of something I noticed.” He reads through the page rapidly, then nods. “Here. In the footnotes.”

  “The mythology of Lotan and the Leviathan are often considered parallels to the defeat of Tiamat in Mesopotamian lore,” I read.

  “Who is that?” Dean asks.

  “Tiamat,” I read from another note. “The primordial goddess seen as a symbol of the chaos of creation.”

  “There’s that word,” Sam notes. “Chaos.”

  “So, whoever this is has not only gotten Hebrew mythology wrong but also mixed it with Mesopotamian mythology?” Dean asks. “They must not be too serious about it.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that,” I say. “In fact, those inaccuracies would make me lean toward being more wary of him. We keep thinking cult when we hear Martin talking, but we have to think of it differently. We see a cult because we see the negative nature of it. But someone who believes it with all their being will see it as something else.”

  “As what?” he asks.

  “Their religion. Whether they fully recognize that or not, the devotion, commitment, and belief turns followers into zealots. The most intense zealots truly think what they believe is absolutely right and everyone else has just been getting things wrong. They will pick and choose elements of different religions, cultures, and ideas, just so they can piece together their ideal version. Within the circles they create, those who question the teachings or actions are deemed non-believers or seen as not having enough faith. They aren’t pure, aren’t worthy. Those who believe and follow what they are instructed are told they are the true followers. The chosen ones. They are special and will be rewarded in some way.

  “Everything becomes seen as a test, even when the leader of the group has nothing to do with it. They have to prove themselves at all times, which makes believers, and those who want to be believers, more intense. More driven down into it. The leader is allowed to stitch different pieces of things together to make something totally new because they know more than an average person.

  “If you don’t understand it or think it’s wrong, you’re blasphemous or too stupi
d, or corrupt, or misled to grasp the truth, and the cult casts you away. So, you dig your heels in. You become louder, more intense, more devoted. You prove to everyone around you and to yourself every day that you are the most loyal and adoring follower, so you don’t face the wrath or lose the validation of the group.”

  “So, what you’re saying is this is legit,” Dean says.

  I eat a few more bites of my breakfast. It’s cold now, but it’s something to fill the aching emptiness in my stomach.

  “That depends on what you mean by legit. If you mean that what they do is right and I should condone everything about it, no. Absolutely not. Martin is ranting about chaos and destruction, and those videos have specifically talked about at least six incidents involving deaths. No. Not legit. But if you mean the loyalty and passion, and genuine belief in what they do, whatever it is that they do, then yes. I saw practically the same myself when I was captured by The Society. I think Martin is being completely honest. He really thinks those videos are going to be the history lessons of the future… which he believes will be a new world crafted out of chaos and lead fearlessly by Lotan.”

  “Now the question is, who the hell is Lotan?” asks Sam. “If Martin was a follower of Lotan, could Lotan have a connection to Catch Me?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Alright, thanks. Just keep those words in mind. If you hear or see anything that has to do with them, even if it doesn’t seem like it means anything or has anything to do with anything, let me know. Talk to you soon.”

  I end the call and swipe my hand back over my forehead to smooth the loose strands of hair down again.

  “That was Eric,” I sigh, tossing my phone onto the couch. “He went through every possible database he could think of, and the only thing he came up with was a couple of tattoos. Nothing with either of those words and the guys the tattoos were on didn’t have any criminal background or link to anyone who did.”

  “Then why were they in the database?” Sam asks.

  “Murder victims,” I explain.

  “Could the tattoos have been added as part of the murder?” he muses. “A serial killer’s signature?”

  I shake my head and walk over to the window to stare out at the late morning. It’s one of those days that looks totally white like the sky has been drained of all its color. It will probably snow soon. February in Virginia usually means the worst of winter is over. But maybe the worst is still to come.

  “The medical examiner was pretty certain they weren’t new and had been done at different times.”

  “The victims could have been kept for an extended period of time by the killer. You’ve seen branding before,” he argues.

  “I have, but it’s usually fairly simple, and it’s done with the intention to show ownership of the victim. These tattoos were apparently large, but it was almost impossible to tell how complex they were because of the conditions of the bodies. They weren’t put on display.”

  “So, we still have nothing,” he says.

  “Not all doom and gloom,” Dean announces, coming into the room. “I did some talking around and then checked up on it, and we at least have one detail we can follow.”

  “About Lotan?” I ask.

  “No, about Martin. Turns out that car he got into wasn’t his.” He hands me a printout of a vehicle registration. “He drives a black pickup.”

  I read through the information on the registration and give a slight laugh. “Wow. Didn’t peg him for the truck type.”

  “Yep. And not even extended cab. Just two seats,” Dean continues, grabbing a handful of the grapes I bought from the cafeteria during a break and popping them in his mouth.

  “Which means he couldn’t get in the backseat,” Sam says. “Catch Me wanted him to sit behind him?”

  “Or there was someone else in the car, too,” I point out.

  “Catch Me is two people? That would explain the trains.”

  I think about the possibility for a second, but it doesn’t sit right with me, and I shake my head.

  “No. I don’t think so. It would make sense for the two trains, but that’s it. Everything else has been too precise, too streamlined. This guy is hyper-focused on me finding him and him specifically. Everything has been ‘me’ and ‘I’. It’s extremely organized. You don’t usually see that when people are working together. Even if they are on the same page and telling the same plan, things go wrong, people’s personalities come out, and you see disorganization and disconnects. I haven’t seen any of that with Catch Me. This is very much one-on-one. It’s him against me. If there was someone else in that car, that’s a deviation.”

  “Returning to our earlier theory: could Catch Me be working with your uncle? That would explain the second person,” points out Sam.

  “It’s possible. But that doesn’t line up either. My uncle clearly had ways to get in the house to drop off those necklaces. He wouldn’t need to pepper clues for me to follow. I just don’t know what the connection is.”

  “But it’s something. And that’s better than what we’ve had,” Dean says.

  “That’s true.” I let out an exasperated sigh and shake my head. “It’s just driving me insane. I know I’ve heard of Leviathan. And not just because it’s a word. It means something, and I can’t remember what.”

  “Could have been something your father told you?” Sam asks. “A case he was working on or something the CIA was investigating?”

  “Maybe,” I acknowledge. “Maybe I saw something when I was reading his files, and it just stuck in my mind somewhere.”

  I start towards the door.

  “Where are you going?” Dean asks.

  “To look through my father’s files,” I tell him. “When he left, his case files were still in his office. I didn’t get rid of any of them.”

  I walk out of the room and go to the nurse’s desk.

  “If he says anything else, call me immediately,” I tell Amelia.

  She nods.

  “I will. I’ll check up on him soon.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her.

  Both men catch up to me as I go down the elevator and head for the car. My eyes shoot back and forth as I drive through the parking lot and out onto the road.

  “What are you looking for?” Sam asks.

  “Anything,” I tell him. “Up until now, Catch Me has been really clear about his instructions. Even when he was leaving riddles, it was clear he wanted me to solve the riddle and figure out what to do next. But I don’t have that this time. I know it’s supposed to be about Martin. Obviously, he’s helping or was told to do something, and Catch Me had him meet him out in the parking lot outside the maternity ward as a message to me. But that’s where it stops. We don’t know where Martin went or what he’s doing, so how are we supposed to follow him?”

  “You have to trust the police. We all gave our statements, and they are looking for him. That’s all we can do right now. We have to trust that they will do their jobs and be able to trace his movements. Once they find him, we’ll figure out what we’re supposed to do next.”

  “I want to believe that,” I tell him. “But I feel like I’m missing something. Like there’s a link or some sort of connection I haven’t noticed. He’s already proven that when I don’t follow along with what he’s doing fast enough, or even when I do, the results get bloody. I don’t want anyone else to die because I didn’t play his game correctly.”

  “You can’t do that to yourself,” Dean says. “You can’t make yourself responsible for everything that happens. You didn’t do this. You didn’t do any of it.”

  “If I could figure out who he is, it would stop him,” I reply. “If I’d been able to find him on the train or in Feathered Nest, these things wouldn’t be happening.”

  “You don’t know that,” Sam says.

  “He’s right,” Dean agrees. “You can’t predict what he’s going to do. It’s not your fault he’s doing t
hese things. I know it’s easy to get into that place where you feel like you caused everything. But you didn’t cause this, and you can’t blame yourself. All that’s going to do is distract you from stopping what comes next.”

  “You don’t understand,” I say.

  “I do understand, Emma. In one of my earliest cases, two children had been kidnapped. The mother was working with the police, but they didn’t have any leads and hadn’t figured out anything. She strongly believed it was her ex-husband. They had been fighting over custody for a long time, and she believed he only wanted it so he could get child support out of her. She made a lot more money than he did, and in court, he tried to demand alimony, but the judge shut that down real fast. She was convinced he came and snatched the children to get money out of her. So, she hired me to track him down and see if I could find the children. I located him in New York. He had been on the run for almost three weeks, and the children looked exhausted like he hadn’t stopped. I was trying to decide how to handle it when I found out he was planning on loading the children up into a plane and leaving the country. I called the local police department to let them know what was going on and followed them to the subway. I saw him standing right there in the middle of the crowd with the children on each hip.”

  “What did you do?” I ask.

  “I waited. I thought it was best if I waited for the police to come and we did a controlled, managed, takedown. I figured it was so crowded down there and it was going to be a little bit before the train got there, so he wasn’t going to be moving. I just kept my eye on him, following to make sure he didn’t do anything to the children. I assumed when the police arrived, they would be able to recover both of them and arrest him. I stood there, not two feet away from him. He didn’t know who I was, so he had no reason to run away from me. I was close enough that I could have reached out and taken the children out of his arms.”