Dawn must be approaching. Debbie Downer usually worked under the cover of night. Would they really hold them for a day?
The thought gave Joshua hope, as the doorknob turned.
Joshua rushed back to sit next to Jimmi, pretending to have his hands tied behind his back.
A figure in a dark robe stepped into the room.
“Your time draws nigh.”
Oh, goody. The serial killers talked in heightened speak. Something to keep Joshua amused until his neck was broken. No. No, he couldn’t think like that. Kent would never give up. He’d use this to his best advantage.
Channeling the profiler, Joshua spoke up. “How are you getting around the whole ‘Thou shall not kill’ commandment here?”
When the robed figure turned to Joshua, he thought maybe he’d made a mistake. He didn’t have Kent’s constitution. His brave heart. His sublime mind.
The hood came too far over the figure’s face to make out the man’s features, but the low baritone voice did confirm it was a man.
“We are the Lord’s sword.”
Well, that was a non-response. Joshua had seen how many interrogations by Kent? Hundreds. Kent would have this guy stripped out of his robes and on his knees within a few moments. Yet Joshua couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“Get up.”
“Um, a little hard,” Joshua said, as if he were still bound.
He glanced over to Jimmi, who winked. Damn if the guy hadn’t been faking catatonia.
Time to take action.
He was just about ready to throw a punch when the door opened further to reveal six other Debbie Downers, all with scythes in hand.
Okay, that hadn’t gone as planned.
* * *
Kent sat in the Mustang. He had a headache, several muscle pulls, and possibly a ruptured spleen, at least a little. He did not need to witness his handiwork come to fruition.
Nicole and Ruben strode from the prison. A book in hand. From the look in their faces, Kent had been correct. Nicole looked pleased. Ruben looked frustrated. Exactly what you would expect.
Nicole opened the driver’s door and tossed him the book. “There are notes in the margin.”
Ruben gave one long, disapproving look at Kent in the passenger’s seat, then climbed into the back seat, folding his tall frame into the cramped quarters.
Boo. Hoo.
Of course, the text was Jonathon Edwards’ sermon, “Sinners in the hand of an angry God.”
The sermon put the Klu Klux Klan to shame, really. It was harsher than most Islamic extremists. That Jonathan could throw down fire and brimstone like none other. No wonder Martin and his little band of merry men took to it.
Most of the notes looked completely harmless. “Amen.” “Hallelujah.” “Praise the Lord.” But it was where the words were placed. Plus a simple shifting cipher and Martin was instructing his corrupt flock.
“I know where they are holding Joshua and Jimmi,” Kent stated. “Head east.”
* * *
Nicole did as instructed. She simply had to trust Kent. He might be a big fat liar, but he would never allow anything to happen to his two J’s.
In the backseat, looking like a pre-teen relegated to second-class citizenry, Ruben reviewed the same information that Kent had just finished. By Ruben’s frown, he did not yet divine what Kent had.
Which probably pissed Ruben off more than anything else. With those two it was winner take all. The loser lost all. Not that Ruben had much of a chance to experience the first.
Nicole simply accepted long ago that Kent’s mind was superior to hers in matters of deduction. There. That was it. He was. There was no point in fighting. There was only trying to improve her mind, honing it to the point she might one day be within reach of Kent’s vaunted intellect.
She knew what people said about her behind her back. How could a strong woman like her be so weak? How could she be led by the nose by this arrogant man? But how was it weak to wish to improve yourself? How was it weak to admit reality?
That was Ruben’s problem. He was constantly pushing against Kent’s methods. Constantly trying to use his own old way of thinking to solve new problems. Ruben refused to adapt and grow.
Not Nicole. She could see the gap between her rationale and Kent’s and every day sought to close that margin.
However today, it didn’t seem like that was a very realistic goal. Kent was far out ahead, swimming in deep, dangerous waters, sensing the sea change before any of them could even imagine the storm ahead.
“Talk to me,” Nicole whispered, as she drove across town.
“Martin is good, I do have to give him that,” Kent said leaning back against the head rest. “As manipulative as ever.”
“How so?” Nicole asked, feeling as if she was trying to catch up on a ten kilometer marathon. Kent was closing in on the finishing line and she was way back at the starting line.
“I was working Martin as he was working me and I was working him right back...” Kent chuckled. “Honestly it did get a little confusing.”
Good to know Kent was human.
* * *
Ruben shut the book. He could read the text and the notes in the margins for another twenty days and not come to any conclusions. If left in his hands, Jimmi and Joshua would die a thousand times before he would solve the riddle. Oh, who was he kidding? They would die a million times before he could figure it out.
But not Kent.
Which was why Ruben had gone along with the ruse. Making a huge fuss about Paggie’s death. Was he upset by it? Did he wish Kent hadn’t killed her? Of course. How much could they have learned from her if she’d survived? Maybe, just maybe, Ruben could have figured out why she’d done it. Maybe he could have come to peace with all the lies. Had he meant anything to her at all, or had he been a weapon the entire time?
Such questions would plague him for the rest of his life with her dead. On the other hand she was a vicious psychopath who had killed how many people just for the thrill of it. They might never know exactly how many since she started out as a poisoner and it was notoriously difficult to determine the full number of victims.
Kent hadn’t been wrong in killing her. Hell, she was in the middle of killing Ruben at the time.
Would Ruben have killed her? No, no matter all of what had happened, he just couldn’t have.
Ruben absolutely hated to admit it, but Kent had probably saved him a lifetime worth of grief. Even though everyone would have strongly advised against it, Ruben knew that he would have felt an obligation to visit Paggie in prison. He would have allowed her a whole new era to tear his heart apart.
Kind of like Nicole did to him every day.
Jesus, Ruben. Stop it.
Ruben physically shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was far too apt to go down the rabbit hole these days.
Bullshit.
He might be riding in the backseat, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t contribute.
Opening the book, he took another crack at decoding Martin’s messages to his Debbie Downer followers.
CHAPTER 11
“It is time,” one of the Debbie Downers growled.
Joshua had to concentrate on not peeing on himself. So far, he had been successful, but honestly it could go either way.
Sure, he’d gotten Jimmi and himself out of their restraints, but what good would that do against six scythes?
Maybe he could stall. Kent must be on his way. He must have somehow figured out their location, broken out of jail, convinced Nicole to drive him. That was how it had to be.
It had to be.
So Joshua just had to stall. That was all. Stall. He could do that. He was a champion at that.
“For what?” he asked as innocently as he could.
“For your end,” the Debbie Downer cultist replied.
Gosh, usually these crazies were talkers. They like to elaborate on their psychosis. Otherwise, how could Batman or James Bond get away so frequently?
“It is your time.”
Wow, these Debbie Downers were great conversationalists. Talk about circular reasoning. Kent would be so disappointed.
“Yes, I got that,” Joshua stated. “But why? Why kill us?”
The cultist grabbed Joshua by the upper arm and jerked him to his feet. Joshua had to grip his fingers together tightly to not strain his loosened restraints. It wouldn’t be very helpful if the zip ties just fell off, now would it?
Shoved forward, Joshua had to shuffle so as not to break his loosened leg restraints.
They passed through a door and were taken to an altar. This was different. It wasn’t a club or bar. But a church.
What the heck were they doing in a church?
There was no way Kent would be looking for an abandoned church.
Not for the first time, ice filled Joshua’s veins.
There would be no rescue.
This was it.
They were going to be sacrificed on Debbie Downer’s altar.
* * *
Kent would have told Nicole to hurry up, but the woman was driving like a bat out of hell already. He wasn’t sure his neck could take much more force against it.
“I’ve got it!” Ruben announced from the backseat.
Better late than never, Kent supposed.
“But, but…” Ruben stammered. “This location is west. And we are going east.”
Always so observant, that one.
“What does he mean?” Nicole asked.
“The instructions are west, but just like everything else, Martin thinks he is ahead of the game. He’d know I would break his code, so he sent false instructions,” Kent replied.
Kent looked in the rearview mirror. Ruben’s eyelids crimped together. He must be putting on his thinking hat. “Yes, Ruben out with it.”
“But there is a lot of…east… how do you know the exact location?”
Because I am like ten thousand times smarter than you? No, Nicole would probably elbow him if he said that aloud and his ribs were already sore from the guard fight.
“Joshua and Jimmi are personal to Martin. He has been allowing the Debbie Downer cults to do their own thing. It is one of his talents. His adaptability. But now. Now I believe he is going back to his own psycho-pathology.”
“I don’t…” Ruben said.
Nicole though was much closer to Kent’s wavelength. “You think he is having the cultists take Joshua and Jimmi back to one of Martin’s original crime scenes?”
“The original,” Kent corrected.
“That was a disco on the west side, right?” Ruben asked.
Kent nodded. “It was then a vegan restaurant that lasted all of three months, then was converted into a club which failed and now is currently a ballet studio.”
“That one?” Nicole asked, pointing ahead into the early morning light.
“Yes, that one.”
* * *
The Mustang’s engine was still rumbling as Kent and Ruben exited the car. Nicole turned off the engine and hurried to join them. The ballet studio’s interior was dim. There didn’t seem to be any movement inside the barren interior.
Kent picked the lock in no time flat and was inside, Ruben right behind him, swinging his gun from side-to-side.
Nicole caught up, as they made their way out of the dancing area and into the back office. Still nothing. No Debbie Downers. No J’s.
“I can’t be…I can’t be wrong,” Kent mumbled, pushing over a pile of leotards.
Nicole would have thought that maybe Ruben would have a satisfied grin on his face, instead there was a grimace.
“Maybe Martin not only figured out that you would crack his code, but also assumed that you wouldn’t believe the site?” Ruben asked.
She turned to watch Kent’s reaction. At first scorn passed over his face, then doubt, then resolve.
“Damn it, Ruben,” Kent said, almost as a reflex. “I think you might be right.”
Well, the evidence was pretty clear the two J’s weren’t here. She just prayed they were at the other address. “Where are they?”
“All the way on the other side of town. At the abandoned Presbyterian church.”
“The one that got closed for asbestos?” Nicole asked.
Ruben just nodded.
Crap. That was a ways away.
They’d better hope the Mustang was ready for a wild ride.
* * *
Joshua allowed himself to be lifted up to the altar. He laid down when he was expected to lie down.
Kent. Nicole. Someone should be coming through that door any minute. Hell, Joshua would take Ruben at this point. Or Glick. Especially Glick.
But the doors remained closed as the cultists sharpened their blades. The sound. That high-pitched squeal from the metal was quite disconcerting, that was for sure.
Joshua had gotten pretty good at helping to catch serial killers, but that was after the fact. After the knives were booked into evidence. They didn’t look nearly as sharp as they did now.
The church however looked pretty much like it must have when it was abandoned. The crucifix was right side up. Nothing demonic about that. This was so far outside the usual Debbie Downer crime scene.
“Martin,” Jimmi whispered.
That was the guy that Kent was bunked with. Joshua had researched the serial killer to know exactly what Kent was up against.
But still this made no sense.
Martin’s old murders had nothing to do with church or religion. The guy was a straight up secular sadist. Church…church…what did that have to do with Martin?
Then it hit Joshua. One of his many step-fathers was a Presbyterian minister. He was the one that abused Martin.
What did that have to do with Joshua and Jimmi?
Why switch up his MO so much?
“Kent,” Jimmi whispered.
Where?
Then the crushing reality that Kent was not actually here, hit Joshua. What had Jimmi meant then by whispering the profiler’s name?
Oh, snap. Joshua got it. Kent was a placeholder for Martin’s stepfather. That was why he went back to his childhood for this kill. Martin’s stepfather had killed that what was most precious to Martin. And now Martin was going to kill something precious of Kent’s.
That almost made Joshua feel good, except for you know, that sound of hissing metal.
* * *
Kent sat perfectly still despite the vibration of the over-revved motor. He’d let Martin get inside his head, and now Joshua and Jimmi would pay the price. Martin was already ahead of the curve. Kent forgot that.
So, could it be so simple now that the two J’s were at the church. Would Martin really risk showing his hand like that?
The problem was that Kent had no better idea where to go. There would be something at the church, but would it be the two J’s?
Ugh. Kent really hated this part of any investigation. The part where you just had to take a massive leap of faith. Kent wasn’t all that fond of faith. He liked cold, hard facts. He liked intuition, which to him was just as good as fact. But now? Now they were just following bread crumbs left by a madman.
Like he said. Not all that fond of faith.
Finally they arrived at the old abandoned church. Everything looked quiet, but didn’t it always?
Kent rushed out of the car, even before Nicole finished parking. He bounded up the steps with Ruben hot on his heels.
The front door was open, a broken chain dangling from the door handles. Kent jerked the doors opened, but had to pause for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. Only moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows illuminated the large vaulting chamber.
There was something at the altar. Kent couldn’t make out what yet, but there was definitely something there.
He crept forward as Nicole joined him. Both her and Ruben’s guns were out. The closer they got, the more clearly the objects at the
altar were two figures. Kneeling in front of the altar, their cloaked heads bent in supplication.
Of course, that would be because their necks were slashed, nearly off their shoulders.
Thin wires rigged the bodies.
They had seen it too many times in the past. Had his stint in the Big House been for nothing?
Were Joshua and Jimmi up there?
He had to take this one step forward at a time. Each step filled with dread.
Joshua had trusted him blindly. And now Kent had let him down. Kent would even watch Pitch Perfect 2 if it brought Joshua back.
Their little group arrived at the bodies.
Kent couldn’t bring himself to pull back the hoods.
It was Nicole who stepped forward and jerked the hood back. It was a woman, not a man. Not Joshua or Jimmi.
Kent hissed out a breath, barely letting himself feel the relief that flooded through his body. It wasn’t Joshua.
Nicole let out a sob, backing away, covering her mouth with her hand. Ruben stepped forward and pulled back the second hood. This was a male, but again, not Joshua or Jimmi.
“They look familiar, don’t they?” Ruben asked.
It was a little hard to tell since their heads were still bent forward. But Ruben was correct, these two victims did seem familiar. Uncomfortably so.
“Oh no…” Nicole breathed out. “Don’t you recognize them?”
No, no, Kent didn’t. At least not yet. Ruben used his gun muzzle to lift the chin of the woman.
“That’s Kaitlyn,” Nicole moaned.
Kaitlyn?
Ruben cocked his head. “She’s on graveyard for tech backup, isn’t she?”
“But I’ve been getting text message updates all night from her.”
Kent moved around the bodies to find both of their phones on the altar table. Debbie Downer had been texting from them, so that no one would notice them missing. Techs. Always in their electronic cave. How long had they been missing? It hadn’t been a flashy abduction like the two J’s. A quiet one to fool them all.
“This is Timothy,” Ruben said. “Another techie.”
“But why?” Nicole asked, looking to Kent.
How he hated it when she looked to him for answers that he didn’t have yet.
2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane Page 29