by D C Young
“Fine, Sam, what do you suggest?”
“Well, you could take me to visit the school like you were going to enroll me. I’ve got the grades to at least be able to make an appointment for a tour.”
“We won’t be free to do any interviews with anyone while on a tour,” I protested.
“We don’t need to do interviews, Mom. I’m psychic, remember?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Sledge responded.
“But getting an interview set up that quickly is going to be impossible.”
“That’s where we might be able to use Benson and the senator,” Sledge answered.
“You can’t just tell him that you want to allow the daughter of your vampire friend, who happens to be a psychic, to get a special tour of the school without blowing our cover. Our cover is more important than even the senator’s cover. I’m very suspicious of why he’s covering this up, by the way.”
“I’ll worry about how to present it to Benson and the senator,” Sledge responded. “You just get ready to do the work.”
“Fine,” I sighed. “We’ll give it a try.”
“Good. Did you talk to Tammy about Elsinore?”
He would have to bring that up in Tammy’s presence. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Why not, Mom? We can trust Sledge and I’d love to go on a ride.
I hated that she could read my thoughts, but I found a quick way to get back at her. Anthony is going to be pissed if he can’t go.
No! Mom! Not him too!
The idea wasn’t a bad one. If anyone could protect Tammy in any situation beyond what Sledge and the bikers he rode with could handle, it would be my Fire Warrior.
Oh God, Mom, I can’t believe…
“Can you make room to take Anthony along too?” I asked, smiling at my daughter as I voiced the request.
“Not a problem,” Sledge replied. “You’re sure that you’re good with this?”
“As long as you don’t mind having them both along.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“Thanks, Sledge.”
“I’ll call you when I have a tour set up,” Sledge as he disconnected the call.
The glare from my daughter needed neither thoughts nor words to understand.
***
“The senator spoke very highly of you,” Missus Dawson, the woman in charge of our tour of the Corona Del Mar Preparatory Academy whispered as she escorted Tammy and I out of the school’s counseling office. “I’m quite impressed with Tammy’s grades, though somewhat concerned that her transcripts are coming out of a rather… well, under-par, public school. I suppose you have your reasons for enrolling her in such a place. It can be a beneficial experience for people or your station to allow your children to learn how the other half live, no doubt.”
Oh puke, Tammy’s thought came into my mind. My sentiments were almost equal.
Just stay focused on why we’re here and tune her out. I’ll deal with her. I should have given her a mental suggestion to not read that particular portion of Tammy’s transcript earlier. As it was, I gave the suggestion that she discuss things pertaining to the staff and school rather than the snooty stuff.
I knew Tammy’s skill, which was far beyond mine for picking up on any connection to Justine that might be lingering in the school. My hope was that whatever she read would be connected to a specific person who could lead us to what we needed to know. If it worked, it would be a quick close to the case, which was always great when dealing with a child abduction.
The school was certainly much nicer and much better equipped than the public school Tammy and Anthony attended. Though I was impressed with what privilege could buy, the pressure to succeed and outperform other students was palpable. As we were going down one of the halls toward the gymnasium, Tammy stopped, held her head for a moment and leaned against the wall. I knew what was going on, so I covered for her.
“She complained of a headache before we came in,” I explained. “She gets some pretty intense migraines at times, but I didn’t think this was one of them. Just take a moment, honey.”
“Migraines, at such a young age?” Missus Dawson responded in a soothing tone. “There are more and more children getting them. I can’t help but think that it is related to the chem-trailing that they insist upon or the WiFi towers that are going up everywhere and are more and more powerful.”
“No doubt,” I agreed, not really listening to her.
“Can I get her anything?” Missus Dawson offered.
The opportunity was too good to pass up. Though it might not be long, it would give us a moment alone to pursue whatever Tammy was picking up.
“I’ve got her medication in my bag,” I responded. “If you would be a dear and get us a glass of water.”
“We’ll just go right on down to the gymnasium,” she answered. “They should have plenty of water there.”
That didn’t work out like I planned, but I went with it anyway. I put my arm around Tammy to support her as I led her to the gym. Since the weather was clear, the gym was empty and I directed her to a seat on the nearest bleacher.
“You just relax right there and I’ll get some water,” Missus Dawson said, scrambling in search of a cup or something to contain water in.
Our tour guide had been gone only a moment when Tammy came out of her trance-like state.
“What did you see?” I whispered.
“I saw Justine through the eyes of an old teacher who died here. I don’t think it’s good, because the ghost had a very sick feeling about her. I know who took her though. He doesn’t work here, he works for an air conditioning company.”
“Could you tell which one?”
“That’s where it got strange,” she replied. “All I saw was a polar bear.”
Chapter Six
Asking Missus Dawson about the air conditioning was a bit tricky, but I managed to find out that the system had been down and that the company had sent two different repairmen to fix it.
“I had that same problem last summer,” I responded. I did my very best to put on airs. “We use… I should say used that one with the polar bear on their logo.”
“Arctic Friend,” she said immediately. “We’ve never had problems with them at all. We didn’t have any major issues with them this last time, except that the second repairman who came seemed a little confused when we told him that someone had already come by. He took a look anyway, which was good because the first man hadn’t done anything at all. A scheduling foul up or something I suppose.”
We need to get out of here and go find that company, I told Tammy. Keep acting like you’re sick and we’ll call this off.
Thank God, she replied. This place makes me want to barf.
You don’t have to go that far with your acting.
I’m not promising you anything.
Maybe some of Jasmine’s acting abilities had rubbed off onto Tammy because she played her role to a tee and we were out of Corona Del Mar Preparatory Academy and back in our mini-van in less than 30 minutes. Of course I had promised to give the senator rave reviews and to come back when Tammy was feeling a bit better, but neither of us could get away from there fast enough.
Tammy’s work with her cell phone and the GPS got us a bead on where Arctic Friend’s nearest office was located. Within fifteen minutes, we were pulling up in front of an office with a large, molded polar bear over the front awning.
“This is kind of fun,” Tammy grinned. “I should just quit school and be your detective partner.”
“Yeah… no,” I answered, getting out of the van and starting toward the door.
Tammy was right behind me. Admit that you would love it.
Although it would have been fun, I wasn’t going to admit anything.
I knew it! she said and then giggled, having read my thoughts.
Back to focusing on the job, Tams.
After asking after Earnest and learning that there was no Earnest working for Polar Friends, I was be
ginning to become suspicious. Tammy gave a full description of the man she’d seen in her vision and there was still no connection between him and an employee of Polar Friends. To my surprise, Tammy was a bit more creative than I knew she could be.
“Well, he came to my school, CDM Prep, the other day and said he was fixing the air conditioning system, but he didn’t and another man had to come,” she said. “I’m a student office assistant and check people in and out. He misplaced his cell and I wanted to let him know that the school had it in safe keeping if he was wondering where it was at.”
Nice one, I told her.
That’s what partners are for.
Don’t get too comfortable.
“I remember that,” the man responded. “Jared went out on that call and said that the administration was curious as to why we had sent a second repairman after the first had already taken care of things. He hadn’t, but the mix-up sure had us scratching our heads. Anyway, no Earnest here and nobody by your description either. I suppose he’ll backtrack to the school looking for his cell phone. I sure would, mine is my lifeline.”
“Thanks for your help,” I responded.
“Let us know if there is any other way we can help,” the man responded.
“We will, thank you.”
“Now what do we do?” Tammy asked when we were back in the van.
“Well, it’s too late to take you back to school, so I suppose we’ll go…”
“To the beach,” she inserted before I had even gotten a solid thought in my mind about where to go.
It wasn’t a bad idea. We’d hit a dead end and the beach was a good place to help you get your bearings again whenever things were a little out of whack.
***
Both of the kids had been in bed and sleeping soundly for hours when I reached over and picked up the case file on Justine Edwards. After what I thought was a promising lead at the prep school, the fact that someone had played the role of an impostor and could not be tracked was a major let down. I fumed about the fact that Senator Edwards had chosen to keep things quiet, because had he not, then the story about the mixed up air conditioner repairmen would have come out much sooner and someone might have had a chance of tracking him down. It still irked me that Edwards was keeping the abduction a secret, but I wasn’t sure why.
In an attempt to help get my mind back into focus, I pulled out the ATM camera photos and took a long, steady look at the face and into the eyes of Justine Edwards. She’d looked at the three photos several times before, but she had merely glanced at them and not really studied them. She supposed that she was hoping that some clue would be written across the face of the fifteen-year-old, but there was nothing there. I was about to toss the photos aside again when something caught my eye.
In the blurry part of the image, which was not focused on the girl’s face, was another image; a shadowy one, actually, and not something that your typical detective would even take into consideration, but it caused me to sit up straight in the chair and suck in a sharp breath. It was a nearly invisible shadow of an owl and it was so faint that even I had missed it. I took a closer look, not liking the fact that I was seeing the image in relation to the missing teenager.
Innana, Ishtar and Hecate, goddesses in various cultures were often depicted as owls or part owls in ancient art. Owls were regularly associated with witches, being a particularly regal form for a witch to take, and one which tended to strike fear and superstition in those who happened to see them. Owls were also associated with enlightenment and knowledge.
The fact that she saw the shadowy image behind the missing teen was an indicator that the teen had been targeted by someone and for some very dark purpose. She picked up her cell phone and touched a speed dial button.
“Vampire’s hours, Sam?” Rennie’s smooth southern voice asked as the call connected.
“Yeah. Sure,” I responded. My mind was focused on my mission rather than small talk. “I was just going over the case and I saw something that concerns me greatly. Are you here or back in Carolina?”
“By here, I assume you mean California, and yes, I am.”
“Can I meet you in your office in the morning?”
“How early are you talking?”
Rennie wasn’t particularly fond of being an early riser.
“How about after I get the kids off to school?”
“It’s a little too early for bourbon at that hour, but for you, Sam, I will make an exception.”
Chapter Seven
Rennie had been a true friend from the first moment that we had met. I was still cutting my vampire teeth the first time that we met and we had made an instant connection. He’d made a similar connection with my children, especially Tammy, who shared the same gift as he did.
He had inherited a vast fortune through his father and grandfather, who had continued to supply Kentucky’s finest bourbon in the Carolinas during prohibition, and they had played a significant part in the rise of R.C. Cola in the south as well.
Rennie, instead of taking afternoon tea, tended to enjoy bourbon with R.C. Cola, but since I was meeting him in the morning, ‘afternoon tea’ was not on the agenda.
“I’ve come across something pretty disturbing,” I said, laying the photo out on his desk.
There was usually some idle chatter between the two of us whenever we met, but I had gone straight from exchanging greetings and gotten down to work. My radar concerning Justine Edwards was sounding like a klaxon in a nuclear launch facility.
“Quite an attractive child,” he commented. His slow, southern drawl was in its full splendor, as was his very casual nature. “Definitely from the privileged class. What has you shook up, sweetheart? You’re usually good for a comment or two about Coca Cola and bourbon.”
“Look very closely at the upper right part of the portrait behind her head,” I responded.
“Hmmm. It’s rather blurry. These cameras are really out of focus beyond the subject being photographed.”
“Do you see a shadow? A very dim shadow? It’s almost invisible,” I directed. I wanted him to see the owl for himself rather than being told to look for it. I needed his objective confirmation of what I saw.
Rennie switched on his desk lamp and pulled the shaded bulb over toward the photograph to get a better look. It required him only a moment of examination before he drew back, opened the top drawer on his desk, extracted a magnifying glass and took an even closer look. He dropped the magnifying glass on the desk, pulled open the file drawer, and then drew out a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of bourbon.
“I thought it wasn’t time for tea,” I commented.
“It suddenly became time,” he said, removing the bottle’s cap and pouring three fingers of bourbon into the tumbler.
“So, I’m not crazy. You saw it too.”
“If you are referring to the shadow in the form of an owl in that photo, then yes, I did,” he said, taking a larger than usual gulp of his family’s brand of firewater before replacing the glass on the desk and filling it back to the level it had been before he’d had his drink.
“I don’t like what the bourbon is implying,” I said, knowing that Rennie had a tendency to sip his bourbon rather than gulp it. “What’s that mean?”
“I can’t give you some specifics without doing a bit more research, but at first glance it would mean that our dear Justine has fallen into the hands of some very bad individuals, which means that something very, very bad has certainly happened to her.”
“How do you know that? I mean, I know what owls represent and all, but what are you seeing with this specific owl?”
Taking a pen from the drawer in his desk, he pulled the light back over the photo as I leaned in next to him in order to take a closer look through the magnifying glass. Using the tip of the pen, but careful not to mark the photo, he showed me several features of the shadowy image which I had not noticed initially.
“So, these features tell you what?”
“They tell me that
we need to get Bjorn and Veronica to help us look into this a bit deeper,” he responded. “This is certainly Goetic, given the shape and those features of the eyes and the ‘horn feathers’.”
I knew that Goetic referred to a certain form of witchcraft which summoned demons, not in the traditional sense of demons, but more specifically a type of jinn. Genies, like the one in Aladdin’s lamp are jinn. Did this mean that someone was attempting to summon jinn?
“Someone is summoning jinn indeed,” Rennie replied, having read my thoughts. “You see, Goetia is an ancient practice of summoning demons which is linked back to the Biblical King Solomon. You are already aware of the signet ring, which was given to him by the Archangel, Michael, of course. He used the power of this ring to summon a particular jinni, Ornias, with whom you are already acquainted, being the originator of your kind.”
“But there are other types of jinn, are there not?” I asked. I knew there were, but I wanted him to go into further detail.
“There are said to be 72,” he responded. “This one, in particular, which takes on the image of the owl is known as Stolas. He is said to be a teacher of astronomy and herbology, more specifically the study of poisonous plants and herbs, which are typically used in potions and spells of the very darkest type.”
I was a bit confused, given that I had defeated the devil and his demons and he was no longer able to function in our realm.
“These aren’t your devil’s demons, Sam,” he said, responding to my thought.
“I wish everyone would stop calling him my devil,” I answered. “He was certainly not mine.”
“The jinn are demons of a different order,” Rennie added.
Who was summoning jinn and why? Had Justine been targeted to be some part of summoning ritual or some other sort of ritual? Was she intended for some sort of sacrifice; a sacrifice which had already been carried out? I cringed at the thought, because I was going to have to report that the daughter of the senator was dead.