Slaughtering a pig, wasn’t it?
Which would account for the bloody hands.
He started turning around. Going to the bathroom could wait.
But just as he did so, he felt a prick in his neck, followed by a cold wash of something traveling down his body. He tried to jerk away, but his muscles wouldn’t obey him all of the sudden.
His legs gave out from underneath him, and as he fell, he caught sight of his attacker. And his mind exploded.
That had not been on his radar at all.
* * *
Sariah watched as Isaiah Stoltzfus was placed in the back of a police cruiser. He was protesting his innocence, but the man had blood all over his hands and had attacked a police officer. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
But as the man was being taken into custody, Sariah noticed Detective Torres walking toward her, his posture slumped over. For someone who had just taken down a killer, he appeared more beaten down than triumphant.
“Good work, Torres,” she said as he came near.
The man ducked his head even more at her statement. What was going on with this guy?
“Right. Um. About that…”
“What is it, Torres?”
His expression sheepish, the detective pulled out that ugly-ass cell phone that had been buzzing on and off since he arrived on the scene. He swiped across the screen to open it, then showed Sariah a series of texts.
They appeared to be from a “Hunky Latino.” Then Sariah saw the name in parenthesis.
“You’re sending yourself texts?” she asked. “And you’re calling yourself the Hunky Latino?”
“What?” he asked, then looked down at the screen. His face flushed. “Sorry, forgot about that. It’s… well, it’s a long story.” He cleared his throat. “Here’s the thing. Kent’s been texting me.”
Harbinger. That explained the weird side-trip to Amish territory. Turned out Kent had been right.
“Look,” Sariah soothed him, “I don’t care where the information came from. You did some solid detective work out there today.”
But Torres shook his head. “That’s not it.”
He showed her the texts again, pointing out the last one. Him? Try again, Romeo.
Sariah smiled. “So he got it wrong this time, Detective. Happens to the best of us. Maybe it was just Kent’s time.”
The detective sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “You don’t understand, Cooper. Kent doesn’t get it wrong. Ever.” He gave a dark chuckle. “I wish he did. God, how I wish he did. But he doesn’t.”
Sariah started to protest once more that no one was that good, when she noticed something. Holding up a hand for Torres to stop talking, she scanned the group.
Bella was there with Had, but she didn’t see Joshua anywhere.
“Had?” she called out. “Where did Joshua go?”
The young officer looked up at her. “He… uh… well, he went to the bathroom.” He glanced down at Bella beside him, who was whining, her tail down between her legs. “But that was a while ago,” he admitted after a moment.
Sariah felt a chill go through her. His absence, combined with the text from Kent, had put her on edge.
“Which way did he go?
Had pointed, and Sariah was off almost before he could put his hand down. It might be irrational, but she had seen Kent Harbinger’s intellect in action.
And she could tell how much it had cost Detective Torres to admit to the profiler’s superiority. If it hadn’t been true, he would never have said it.
There… to the side of the gift shop. Were those drag marks?
Two rivets cut deep into the sod there. It was a busy farm, that was true enough. But this was off the beaten path.
She followed the line they led, tracking with her eyes. The trail led… right to the entrance of the corn maze.
The tall corn stalks rose up to well above her head, cutting off any ability to see over the false walls cut into the cornfield. That was the point of the maze.
“We’re going… in there?” Had asked, standing at her shoulder, Bella panting at his side, whining for Joshua. Sariah wasn’t sure, but it looked like Had gulped. “This is like straight out of Children of the Corn or something.”
Sariah wasn’t all that excited about it, either, but this was where the drag marks had led them. Waving for the team to follow her, she entered into the maze.
There, just inside the entrance, was a girl dressed in colonial garb, lying unconscious just to the side of the path. This must have been the ticket taker for the maze.
If there had been any doubt in Sariah’s mind, it was now gone. She ran forward, coming up on the first fork in the maze.
“Okay, Reggie, Had… you two go this way,” she pointed off to the right. “Torres, you come with me.” Leslie had once more stayed back at the van with little Josh, and for the first time, Sariah was wishing that the woman were there with them.
Another fork, and Sariah had a decision to make. Take Torres with her as backup, or search the maze in less time. She thought back to the mutilations on the bodies.
“Split again,” she said to Torres, who nodded after a brief second. It was clear that he was thinking along the same lines.
The sun had set, and darkness was growing by the moment. Sariah had underestimated the creep factor of being alone in the maze. The sounds of the others searching through the maze reached her, but only faintly. The main sound was her own breath in her ears, her heartbeat thudding in her neck.
But up ahead, she heard a scuffling sound, stilled as soon as she heard it. A furtive sound. One that tried to stay hidden.
The one she sought was up there, just around the next corner. The certainty settled into Sariah’s gut.
And just as she knew that she would find Joshua there, she knew before she rounded the corner who she would find standing above him. The conclusion was clear, once Isaiah and Peter had been taken off the table. Just one more step and she would see what her mind had already shown her.
She pulled her gun out of its holster and took the step.
It was the center of the maze. An open area cleared of corn stalks, with several pathways leading away from the clearing. And there, in the middle of the open area, was Joshua, unmoving.
Christy Stoltzfus crouched next to the former agent’s head, a blade held to his throat. Her gaze was wild, her breathing sharp and loud in the small clearing.
“Christy,” Sariah called out to her, holding her gun out to her side, making herself appear less threatening. “Put the blade down.”
“You don’t understand,” she gasped. “None of you understand.”
Sariah held out her empty hand, stopping in her tracks. Any sign of forward movement at this point could cause the Amish convert to panic and slit Joshua’s throat.
Looking closer, Sariah could see that Joshua’s eyes were open. Christy must have injected him with the drug, and Sariah realized that the woman was a nurse practitioner. She would have access to pharmaceuticals.
She also realized something else, but this was about Joshua. He would be aware of everything that was going on, but helpless to do anything about it. The thought made Sariah’s skin crawl.
“I think I do understand, Christy,” she said, keeping her tone even and soft. “Those boys are the ones that hurt the Amish girls, aren’t they?”
The woman inhaled, a sharp sound. Then she nodded.
“They were evil,” she whispered. “And the law would do nothing to them. Someone had to do something.”
“I understand that,” Sariah said, taking a small step forward, gauging the woman’s reaction. So far, nothing. She took another step. “But Joshua isn’t one of those kind of men.”
At that, the woman’s face warped, and she gripped the blade harder, the edge approaching Joshua’s throat once again. Sariah stopped her forward motion.
“You’re lying,” the Amish convert hissed. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. At the other woman out there. He’s just l
ike those boys.”
In a flash of insight, Sariah realized what Christy was talking about. She had observed Joshua’s jealousy and misinterpreted it as lust. His angst over Sariah and Reggie’s new relationship had sprung a trap he never could have seen coming.
But it wasn’t like Sariah could explain the situation. First, it was complicated. Second, she had no idea how the Amish felt about same-sex relationships. It could just make things worse.
“That’s not the way it is, Christy,” she finally said, knowing it to be insufficient. “Please believe me.”
“No,” came the response. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to do that.”
The blade started advancing toward Joshua’s neck once more, when out of the maze sped a blur of brown fur. Bella rushed at the woman, grabbing Christy’s wrist between her sharp canine teeth.
The woman cried out, struggling with the dog, and Sariah rushed forward to try to intervene. Christy got her hand free, lifting her hand with the blade still clutched inside her fist, about to bring it down on Bella.
That was not going to happen.
She raised her gun and sighted, but Bella was right in front. There was no clear shot to take.
But Bella was a smart girl. She twisted out of the woman’s grasp, wriggling out from under her before the knife could descend.
And Sariah fired.
Once, twice, three times in the chest, Christy’s body jerking with each hit. The woman looked over at Sariah, her gaze vacant, and then sank down to lie beside Joshua. The one paralyzed.
The other dying.
Had burst out into the clearing, followed by Reggie a moment later. Their eyes landed on the two bodies, and Reggie let out a gasp.
“It’s okay,” Sariah called out. “He’s not dead.”
But Christy was.
A convert to the Amish faith and community, she had just wanted to protect those she loved. To keep them from pain.
Was Sariah any different?
It was a long, long moment before she could convince her body it needed to move once more. And even then, it was a struggle.
EPILOGUE
Ruben watched as the coroner’s team went into the maze. Someone should probably lead them in to where the body was, but somehow he just couldn’t muster up the energy at the moment.
He’d finally made his way through the maze after everything had gone down. It hadn’t even been a surprise. At this point, it was just par for the course.
So, somehow, in spite of the fact that he had managed to mess everything up, the killer was gone. Not too shabby an outcome. But he was having a tough time convincing himself of that.
And now, he had messages he was supposed to deliver to each of the members of this team, courtesy of Kent’s last text message. Seriously, the guy was a bastard.
Ruben had considered just not doing it, but somehow Kent would figure it out. The messages would still get delivered, but Kent would find a way to punish Ruben for not being the one to do it.
Sighing, he approached the team, who were sitting huddled together around Joshua, off to the side of the corn maze. The former agent was coming out of his paralysis. Good thing, as Ruben had a message for him, too.
He cleared his throat, causing the team to look up at him.
“Hey, guys…” he said. “I’ve got… ah… messages for each of you. I have no idea what they mean, but here goes.”
He turned to Officer Hadderly and read the first text.
“ ‘The whole friendly thing is all well and good, but you’re a better cop than that. Act like it.’ Sorry,” Ruben apologized. “Just remember that it wasn’t me.”
Had nodded, his face contemplative rather than offended. Maybe Kent was onto something here. Ruben turned next to Officer Black.
“ ‘You are strong, smart and capable. You don’t need a man to validate you. Now a woman, on the other hand…’ ” Ruben looked at her. “That’s all it says. Does that make any sense to you?”
Reggie nodded, her face flushing. There was a quick glance at Agent Cooper, and then she looked down at the ground. Okay…
Now it was Joshua Wright’s turn. The caustic attitude the former agent had turned on Ruben from the beginning had softened, but Ruben found that he was still going to get a bit of pleasure out of this one.
“ ‘The whole dead-family-woe-is-me-alcoholic shtick is getting old. Be a man, suck it up and just do your job.’ ” Ruben didn’t even try to apologize for that one. Far as he could see, Kent had nailed that one on the head.
But now came the final one. Also the strangest. He motioned for Agent Cooper to follow him away from the group.
Frowning, the BAU agent did so. After they were out of earshot, Ruben turned to face her.
“He wanted me to give this one to you on your own. I don’t understand it, but maybe you will.” He turned the phone around so that she could read the message.
Ruben watched as Agent Cooper’s eyes widened, her nostrils flaring. Whatever this message was trying to communicate, she had picked up on it.
Turning the phone back around, he studied the text.
Humpty was nothing. Get prepared for what’s coming next.
BONUS MATERIAL
If you would prefer to skip the bonus material and go straight to the Afterword, just click here
DEVIOUS – The prequel short story to 9th Circle
PROLOGUE
The sun had set long, long ago.
The streets of Seattle became a very different place when it was dark. Let’s be honest, even during the day, things had a tendency to be a bit bleak in the Pacific Northwest. But after dark, things got downright creepy.
A light drizzle, nothing more than a clear late summer night for anyone who had grown up here, weighed down Abby’s bleach-blonde hair. She had not grown up here. For her, this much precipitation was the rough equivalent of a downpour. Phoenix, Arizona wasn’t known for its abundant annual rainfall.
How she had ended up here she knew very well, but couldn’t believe to this day. A guy. It was always a guy, wasn’t it? A boy and his band, wanting to test the waters in a bigger city, but without the balls to head to Vegas or L.A. She should’ve known then.
Now, a year and a half later, the band had broken up, and the boyfriend had headed out somewhere for parts unknown. And Abby? Abby was stuck in a lease with a job that paid just well enough that she didn’t want to leave it, but not well enough for her to ever really get ahead.
Tonight was the first night she had gone out on her own since the breakup three months ago. She’d grabbed a couple of the girls from work and jetted down to the Foundation Nightclub, a local hotspot just a couple of blocks away from Pike Place Market.
It was a little touristy, sure, but Abby was still new enough to Seattle that being a tourist was okay by her. The drinks were expensive, but she didn’t normally have to worry too much about that. And the guys there were a bit more upscale than her grungy ex.
But after both of her friends had gotten picked up and it had started getting late, Abby had decided to head home. Drinking alone in a bar just felt way too pathetic.
The problem with that? Abby couldn’t remember where she had parked. Maybe that last cosmopolitan had been a bad idea. She would’ve hailed a cab and come back for her VW bug tomorrow, but in looking for the parking lot where she’d left it, she’d entered into some much narrower streets that were pretty quiet, even for this area. There wasn’t a cab anywhere in sight.
She pulled off her heels, feeling the wet cool of the sidewalk soothe her aching feet. Going out on a Friday after work always sounded like such a great idea, but man, was she beat. Next time she planned an outing with the girls, it would be on a Saturday. And the girls would be ones who wouldn’t abandon her at the first sign of a smile from a cute guy.
Whatever. She was over it.
Now that the clatter of her own heels wasn’t ringing in her ears, Abby could’ve sworn she heard something. She stopped for a moment, but whatever it wa
s had dissipated into the surrounding mist.
How many times had she thought she was being followed late at night, only to realize it was her over-active imagination? Abby chuckled to herself and started walking again. Time to fish her phone out of the bag she called her purse and figure out where the hell she was.
Rummaging through the accumulated crap of at least three years—once Abby found a purse she liked, she used it until it disintegrated—she finally got her fingers around her smartphone and swiped down the screen to wake it up.
No reception. Sonofa…if she hadn’t signed a two-year contract with this idiotic company before moving out here, she would’ve ditched them a long time ago. There were more holes in her coverage here than in a fine piece of Swiss cheese.
Glancing around, Abby looked for any street sign that might look even remotely familiar. As she spun around in a circle, she saw a dark blur move into the shadows cast by a building that blocked the hazy light from a nearby streetlamp. Was that the direction from which she had heard that sound earlier? Hard to tell in the dark, with all the drizzle.
She was being ridiculous. It was just some person, or maybe even a stray animal trying to hug the sides of the businesses to take advantage of their canopies to keep the moisture off. No one was following her. Of course not.
But somehow, as she started walking again, her steps were more purposeful, more rapid, less likely to veer to one side or another. That wasn’t being paranoid. She was just tired of being stuck out in the rain. Time to get home.
As she teetered somewhere between a walk and a trot, she heard the distinct sound of footsteps on pavement. That couldn’t have been her imagination, could it? Just because every other time it had ended up being her own fears didn’t mean it would every time, right? And honestly, who was she afraid of seeing her panic? It’s not like there was anyone there to laugh at her.
Except the one who was actually following her.
Screw it. She was running.
Picking up speed fueled by fear and adrenaline, she rounded a corner, then ducked into an alley, hoping to lose her pursuer with a few twists and turns. Maybe a serious chase would deter her pursuer.
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