Gorgon

by Mary Ann Poll

  Bart pointed to the flashlight. “Glad to see one of us is prepared. Who’d have thought something as mundane as a utility light would end up saving our bacon more than once?”

  Ken pulled his gun.

  “Let me refresh your memory. Firearms don’t work against those minions of the devil.”

  “It’ll work if we come up against something natural—like a bear.”

  “Now, wouldn’t a big grizzly bear be a nice change? I’m game if you are.” Bart waved Ken to the lead.

  Several feet in, a sparkle caught Ken’s eye. He bagged a solitary diamond in a platinum setting. “Looks real.”

  “Which begs the question—where’s the owner?” Bart plowed into the underbrush, parting tall grass and ferns looking for clues.

  Ken spotted a pile of dried leaves and sticks. He picked up a leaf-covered branch and swept the debris off the mound. “Found her.”

  A pasty-white torso was in full view by the time Bart arrived. Bart frowned as he gloved his hands, stooped and brushed the leaves from the body’s face. The lips and eyes were as ashen as the corpse’s body. Skin fanned out away from the bones reminding Bart of grotesque wings. The lower half of the left leg was missing.

  “Looks to me like the Kumrande’s handiwork.” Bart pointed to the deep hole in the rib cavity.

  Ken shook his head. “I’m starting to think I should have stayed in LA.”

  “Why?”

  It’s safe compared to this place.”

  “Female.” Billings stood up. “Rigor has come and gone. Looks like some evil son of a jackal actually drained her of every speck of blood. You didn’t find any around here?”

  “Not a drop.”

  Ken rubbed his hand across his face. “There’s another crime scene. But where?”

  Billings turned the victim’s palm skyward. “These fingers look like dried apricots. I’m not sure I can get a print. The Anchorage ME’s office might have a solution. I’ll give them a call.”

  “Thanks, Doc. In the meantime, I’m hoping we’ll get lucky and find an ID.”

  “This poor woman sure wasn’t lucky.” Billings shook his head and turned. “I’ve done all I can do until I get her back to the office. The mortuary boys will be here in short order.” Billings referred to Eric and Jonas Smotherly, two brothers who worked for the Ravens Cove Mortuary and doubled as morgue attendants when the need arose.

  “If the Kumrande are back, we need to get some lights.” The urgency in Ken’s voice accentuated Bart’s growing discomfort.

  Bart looked at the sky. “We have some time before it’s dark.”

  “True, but since those,” Ken pointed at the pitch-black woods ahead, “are the next logical step, I think LEDs are in order.”

  Bart remembered when Ken and he were ambushed by the Kumrande in the now defunct tourist attraction known as Old Town. They stood back-to-back and fired until the guns were empty. When Ken was taken down by the yellow-eyed creatures, Bart took hold of the only thing left on his belt—a flashlight. In the mayhem he accidentally pressed the on button. The light hit a Kumrande in the eyes. The hairy dwarf shrieked in pain and ran for the woods.

  “I’ll get them here. Pastor Lucas stocked up after the last run-in with those creatures.”

  “On my way.” Paul looked at Doc Douglas. “Will you call Kat with an update?”

  “Count on it. Otherwise, she’ll show up here demanding answers.”

  Paul laughed. “She sure can get her hackles up about animals.”

  “You’d think she was appointed by the good Lord as the protector of lost beasts.”

  “She and Saint Francis of Assisi. She could be in worse company.”

  “I guess. Anyway, I’ll give her a call.”

  “Glad the pup’s gonna be fine; just sorry no one has showed up for it.”

  Paul drove the short distance home he shared with the love of his life. On his way back out he stuck his head through the kitchen doorway. “Back later, Babe.”

  Tanya Lucas spied the flashlights and bible. “Be careful. Come home soon.”

  “I love you with all my heart.”

  “I love you, too—everything okay?”

  “Of course. Just don’t tell you enough.”

  Tanya Lucas grabbed his arm. “You’ll be back soon. Right?”

  “I promise.” He blew her a kiss.

  Paul parked his car in front of the police station and walked the rest of the way to Ravens Ravine.

  “Have Doc Billings call me right away.” Bart barked at the Smotherly brothers. “Don’t come any closer, Pastor. Active crime scene.”

  Paul handed two flashlights to Bart. “So, where are the creatures?”

  “Don’t know if there are any. Saw a footprint. Need the lights just in case.”

  Paul tensed and studied the alders and trees lining the ravine’s perimeter. He strode to the side of the pathway. “What’s this?”

  Bart took hold of a gold filigree triangle with a gloved hand, turned it back and forth, then shook his head. “Haven’t a clue, but it looks familiar.”

  “Looks kind of like the corner of a folder or notebook.”

  Bart looked at the three-cornered object again. “I knew something was nagging me. It’s the same doodad I saw on The Book of Fallen Angels.”

  “So where’s the rest of the book?”

  “Just another question we need to answer.”

  Ken joined Bart and Paul. “Didn’t see anything else.”

  Bart shoved the small evidence bag into Ken’s hand. “Look what Pastor Paul found.”

  “Where was it?”

  Bart pointed to an alder. “Don’t know how we could we have missed it.”

  “There are a lot of trees and brush. Seems easy enough.”

  “I could have sworn we checked the alders where Paul found this.”

  “I guess we’d better do one more sweep of the ravine path—and the floor.”

  “Yep.” Bart looked at the darkening sky. “I think you’d better get on home Paul. Thanks for bringing the flashlights.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need me?”

  “Sure.”

  Paul held out the bible. “Take this. You may need it.”

  “It can’t hurt.” Bart took the bible.

  Ken inspected the ravine path, brush, and earthen walls. The carbon-copies of the guardian hag tree vibrated to each footfall. “They weren’t shaking before. It’s like someone dug up their roots,” Bart said.

  “Let’s move a little faster. Not a place I want to be pinned.”

  “Amen.”

  Bart forgot about the quaking hag trees when he came to a scorched spot on the path. “Seems like it was only yesterday.”

  Ken looked at the black earth and remembered the first Iconoclast battle in Ravens Cove and the angel who had left its holy mark on the pathway. “Why is this place such a prize for the evil foe? Not to mention God.”

  “If I knew the answer, brother, I’d call Oprah,” Bart replied.

  A twig snapped and Ken whirled toward the sound. “You’ve got to be kidding. Can’t you ever stay put?”

  “Turn that thing off!” Kat lowered her hand when she heard the click.

  “You could have gotten shot!”Bart yelled.

  “More like blinded,” Kat mumbled.

  “Why aren’t you at home with your guests?”

  “My guests were picked up by Paul after he left you.”

  “So you got bored and had to show up here?”

  “No. I got a call from Gram. Tanya Lucas called her upset. I thought Paul might have come back. Tanya also mentioned something about Paul packing up flashlights and a bible—this isn’t just a murder investigation, is it?”

  “May not be just a murder investigation.” Ken turned to Bart. “Is there no way to control a crime scene, or stop the rumors about a crime scene from flying around this town?”

  “I’ve been trying for years, and still haven’t succeeded. I’m open to suggestions.”
<
br />   “Are you finished lamenting your inability to subjugate this small corner of the world?”

  “For now.”

  “Good.” Kat held up Bart’s jacket and tie. “I found these on the way down. Thought I’d make sure you were still wearing something.”

  “Well, you can see I am.” Bart pointed to his shirt, then his pants. “The coat was too hot, and I can’t do a good job if I’m eating a tie every time I bend over.” Why am I explaining this to her like she’s my mother?

  “Well, I am relieved—hey, what’s down there?” Kat nodded toward a black object a short distance from the scorched earth.

  Bart switched on his flashlight. A tar-colored puddle absorbed the light, and then dissolved into the earth. “Did the black goo just vanish?”

  “Looks like it.” Ken stepped over the baked soil and wiped his hand across the brown earth. He held up his palm.

  Bart shook his head. “Not even a trace.”

  Ken studied the boulder barricading the ravine entrance. “That’s a new look.”

  “Now I know it wasn’t this way a few hours ago.” Black liquid streamed down the boulder, pooled at the rock’s base, then disappeared into the earth. Small fissures formed wherever the ebony fluid touched.

  “Where’s it coming from?” Kat reached out to get a sample on her finger.

  Bart caught hold of her hand. “What are you thinking?”

  “Maybe it’s water. We have a high water table in this area and it’s full of iron. Makes the water almost black—look at the river.”

  “Except the stuff’s magically disappearing into the earth. Not the other way around.”

  “Do you smell what I do?” Kat asked.

  Bart took a deep breath. “The ole death and sulfur smell is back.”

  Ken pulled a packet marked ‘sterile swab’ from his pocket, tore it open, and caught a sample of the black liquid as it snaked down the rock. He put the swab in a clear cylinder and capped it. The black liquid dripped off the cotton and struck the bottom of the small bottle. It shimmered. The inky liquid turned a brilliant purple and then as clear as water.

  Bart took the vial and witnessed the transparent liquid double in size. He crouched down and stuck the head of a cotton swab into the earth. He pulled it back out and watched the swab turn from white to purple. It swelled to twice its size. Transparent liquid dripped to the ground. “Can hardly wait to get an opinion on this stuff.”

  “You know there’s not gonna be an opinion. Which will more than likely lead to another interview with Binnings.” Ken flashed a resigned smile to Bart, then Kat.

  “When I see purple and black, I can only think it’s Pet.” Kat shivered at the thought of the shapeshifter who had enticed so many to their deaths at the hands of Iconoclast.

  “This murder doesn’t resemble the ones committed by Iconoclast and Pet. Besides, Pet is Iconoclast’s tempter, not the killer.” Bart used the only way to diffuse Kat’s fear he had found—logic.

  “You’re probably right. But what is it, then?”

  “Don’t know. We need to find out more about the victim to come to any conclusions. If the perp is another supernatural thing, this Jane Doe is the only lead we have.”

  “Don’t you think it’d be a good idea to talk to Gram? She might know something.”

  “I don’t want you to bring this up with Gram,” Bart said.

  “You don’t have a choice.” Grandma Bricken used her cane as support on the way down the path. Josiah followed close behind.

  “How did you even hear what I said? Never mind. Why are you here?”

  “Tanya Lucas called us.”

  “You, too?”

  “Said the way Paul had left the house, she felt something was amiss and asked us to check on him. Where is he?”

  “Sent him home a while ago. And I’m sending you home now.” Bart waved them up the path.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Bartholomew Andersen. I’ll leave when I’m good and ready!” Grandma Bricken turned to Kat. “Mandy Thomas called. Told me she couldn’t reach you.”

  “My cell’s right here. It didn’t ring.” Kat dug in her raincoat pocket. “Shoot, must have left it at home. What’d she say?”

  “A detective—I don’t remember his name—called her.”

  “Detective Dayton?”

  “Yes. Said he had questions and was trying to reach you, too.”

  “When I talked to Binnings he told me the case was tied up. What do you think he wants?” Ken asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ll give him a call from the house.”

  “Good idea. We’re all leaving now, anyway. It’s getting dark and I don’t want to run into any creatures of the night—if you know what I mean.” Bart shooed the others up the path.

  Kat turned. “There’s only one reason you’d be concerned about the dark—the Kumrande! Are they here?”

  Bart pushed his cell into her hand. “Why don’t you call Dayton right now?”

  Kat pushed the phone back to Bart. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I think we all should hear why Detective Dayton’s calling.”

  “Not to state the obvious, cous, but I don’t have the number.”

  “Oh, where is my mind today.” Grandma handed Kat a piece of paper. “Here’s the number.”

  Really? I have to call with all the overprotective witnesses present?

  “Anytime now, cous.”

  Dayton answered on the first ring. “Thanks for getting back to me so fast.”

  “Is Mandy in the thick of it again?”

  “No. If anything, she is no longer my suspect.”

  “Good to hear. So, what else can I do for you?”

  “Remember the statue we found in Spawldine’s hideaway?”

  “The one named Lilith, right?”

  “Lilith?” Grandma said to Kat.

  Kat nodded, then returned to what Dayton was saying.

  “Yes. The next time I went to Spawldine’s house, it was missing. You didn’t happen to take it with you?”

  “What would I want with the disgusting little half-naked thing?”

  “I have to ask.”

  “What makes it so important anyway? The guy was hit on the head and died. Seems pretty cut and dried to me.”

  Ken held his hand out for the phone. Kat shook her head vehemently and mouthed, “I have this covered.” She turned her back.

  “It seems Spawldine not only had a knock on his head that would have killed an elephant, but he was drained of blood.”

  “Well, he bled pretty hard.”

  “Yes, he did. But not hard enough to bleed him out.”

  “Oh, how awful.”

  “What?” Bart whispered in her face. Kat held up a hand.

  “So what does this have to do with the statue?”

  “I don’t know; just a hunch. You think your friend would have taken it for any reason?”

  “I don’t know how. Either you or your partner was with her at Spawldine’s house or I was with her packing the shop and her apartment.”

  Ken yanked the phone away from Kat. “This is FBI Agent Ken Melbourne. Do you have any legal reason to be badgering this woman?”

  Kat snatched the phone and glared at Ken. “As you were saying, Detective Dayton…”

  “Who was that?”

  “A friend.”

  “I’ve never met anyone with two friends in the FBI. Are you in witness protection or something?”

  “Nothing so exciting. Just lucky—if you can call it luck.”

  Dayton chuckled. “Listen, her cell phone goes directly to voicemail. If you see Ms. Thomas, tell her to call me right away.”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks. Oh, tell Agent Melbourne I’m sorry to have bothered you.” Dayton’s tone lacked sincerity.

  “Not necessary. I’m sorry for his interference. Call anytime.” Kat glared at Ken as she punched end.

  “Seems like something’s gone missing from the dead guy’s house
in Anchorage.”

  “Mandy?”

  “Who else would they suspect? But I don’t know how she could have done it. She wasn’t alone more than a few minutes last week…” Kat’s voice trailed off.

  “Is there something else?”

  “Dayton said the dead guy didn’t have any blood in him.”

  “What?” Bart and Ken said in unison.

  “Did I just win the prize or something? I said the dead guy—“

  “Heard you.” Bart looked off into the distance, lost in thought.

  “Tell me this shouldn’t have any effect on us here.”

  “We just had a body taken away. It looked to be drained of blood. And I don’t believe in coincidence,” Ken answered.

  “It’s hard to deny the connection. How many bloodless corpses has the FBI found in Alaska?”

  “None,” Ken said.

  Josiah cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, excuse me. Lilith is a demon mentioned in the old texts—not the bible. She was known for drinking the blood of her victims. My only question is why would she do this to a woman? It is written she seeks to destroy children and men because she blames men for her demise and destroys children because she could never have any.”

  “This is getting a little too personal,” Ken said.

  “And the statue of Lilith is missing, too?”

  “You heard right, Josiah.”

  “I only know of one reason to steal that statue,” Josiah said.

  “You telling us someone in Anchorage is worshipping this lady?” Bart asked.

  “I’m thinking someone was worshipping this entity in Anchorage, and now they might be here.” Josiah lifted his hands and dropped them back to his side. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “It’s tourist season so the suspects are numerous. Let’s start with who we know had something to do with this.” Bart looked at Kat. “Let’s go see Mandy.”

  Large yellow eyes followed the small troop until they were out of sight. “They know too much. Where is the guardian?” Nihilist spat at his cloven-footed companion.

  “Making preparations for the rise of the woman—and the spirits she will release.”

  “The demons still do not know of this plan?”

  “No. They think we are loyal and are preparing for the return of Iconoclast,” Homunculus answered.