“Did you? He should have taken your advice. Get out of my sight!”
The Kumrande bowed and galloped into the depths of the cave.
“Take the box to the mansion.”
“Done.” Adumbration disappeared into the wall. He rematerialized moments later. “There are intruders at the house in Old Town!”
“Take the box to the old fish building. I will deal with the intruders. “Kumrande, come!”
“We are here.” Homunculus stepped out of the dark tunnel. Hundreds of silver-haired, yellow-eyed creatures followed.
“Surround Old Town from deep within the woods. Attack when I call. Do not fail!” Pet levitated, dissolved into a mist, and shot up through the courtyard in Old Town.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Kat shoved Detective Dayton back into Grandma Bricken’s hallway.
“I’m getting out of here. My partner’s missing, and I need to get back to Anchorage.”
“You’ve got ‘gonna pass out’ written all over you. Get back inside.” Kat pushed harder this time.
Dayton caught hold of the doorframe. “Touch me again, I’ll arrest you!”
Wendy grabbed Kat’s arm in midair. “She’s quite harmless.”
“And stubborn,” Grandma said. “Still, she’s right detective. You do need to come back inside.” Alese Bricken took Dayton’s arm in a gentle but firm grip and led him to the kitchen.
Wendy let go of Kat. “You have got to quit taking those kinds of dares, KittyKat.”
“He makes me so mad I see red. He is so arrogant.”
“What lawman isn’t?”
“Well, Bart, Ken—” Kat thought about the times they had both treated her like a five-year old. She looked at Wendy. “Come to think of it, I don’t know any without an ‘I know better than you do’ attitude.”
Wendy giggled. “Let’s see how this one stands up to Grandma.”
“My bet’s on her.”
“Not taking that bet. You’ll win for sure.”
Kat stood in the hallway and watched Detective Dayton’s introduction to breakfast at Grandma’s house. Kat’s nose wrinkled when she caught a whiff of liver and onions. The more appealing smells of eggs, sausage, and sourdough toast brought her to the table.
Grandma set the plate of liver and onions in front of Dayton. “This will help you heal.”
Dayton pushed the plate away. “I don’t think I need this.”
“I don’t care what you think. Your blood needs feeding. Now eat!”
Josiah lifted a cup of fresh-brewed coffee to Dayton in a mock toast. “I’d do what she says, if I were you.”
Alese Bricken touched the plate with a spatula. “Eat!”
“She made me eat it yesterday.” Kat lifted her bandaged arm.
Humor them so you can get out of here, Dayton thought. He took a tentative bite. His eyebrows shot up. “This is good.” He dove in.
“Where’s my patient?” Doc Billings called out from the front of the house.
“Come on in, Doc. Breakfast is ready.”
Billings nodded approval at Dayton’s plate. “You have an appetite, I see.”
“Contrary to what these people think, I’m feeling good. When can I get out of here?”
“I need to take a look at the wounds. How about we go into the other room for some privacy?” Billings pointed to Kat’s arm. “Then, it’s your turn.”
Paul Lucas stepped into the kitchen. “I was walking by and saw this package by the door. It’s for Josiah.” Paul extended his hand. “I’m Paul Lucas.”
“Where are my manners?” Kat said. “This is Detective Dayton from Anchorage.”
Paul looked at the bandaged neck and arm. “What happened to you?”
“He had a run-in with a vampire last night,” Wendy said.
Kat backhanded Wendy on the leg.
“Ouch. What else could it have been?”
“A vampire.” Paul sat down. “Tell me about it.”
Grandma Bricken handed Paul a bright orange stoneware plate and silverware with matching handles.
“I really shouldn’t. Tanya did feed me a wonderful breakfast this morning—maybe just a little.” Pastor Lucas dished his plate full of scrambled eggs, reindeer sausage, and sourdough toast.
Kat leaned over to Wendy and whispered, “it’s like the whole town knows when breakfast is ready at Grandma’s.”
“Most of them do,” Grandma answered.
“This is exactly what I’ve been waiting for.” Josiah held a small book in the air.
“What do you have?”
“An answer from an old friend who happens to be an expert in situations like ours.”
“What situation?” Dayton asked.
“The statue, the mysterious containers, deaths…”
“You mean the murders—there’s a real crazy on the loose. So, what could your friend tell you unless he or she is involved?”
“This is a man of the cloth. He has great knowledge in demonology. He has made it his life’s work to study legends—specifically Russian legends pertaining to demons.”
“You mean like with tails and horns?”
Josiah looked up from the book.”Sorry, I was distracted. What did you ask?”
“Nothing. Have you found out anything?”
“My friend’s note says there is a legend in Siberia about a succubus who was trapped by a Russian nobleman. Someone, possibly a servant, smuggled it out of the country.”
“Why?” Alese asked.
“I would think to take it somewhere it couldn’t hurt anyone else. He talks about a lot of death in the nobleman’s village. Oh, dear.”
Kat leaned forward. “What?”
“He also says there is a secret society which has been searching for this entity for hundreds of years because they seek its favor—and power.”
Dayton leveled his gaze on Josiah. “And you think this spirit is here?”
“I’m thinking so.”
“You want to give me a logical reason?”
“We have a bloodless body. A jar like the one mentioned here. Then, of course, I believe God is leading us to the answer, and this may be it.”
“That really isn’t a logical explanation, Mr. Williams.”
“Do you have an explanation for what happened to you last night?”
“Some hyped-up junkie with the munchies mistook me for a T-bone steak.”
Doc Billings stuffed his cell phone into his front pocket. “Where’s Melbourne?”
“He and Bart are at Old Town. Why?”
“Got an ID on the ravine victim.”
“Who is it?”
“You know I can’t tell you.” Doc saw the concern in Kat’s eyes. “But it’s no one you know.”
Kat smiled. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Let’s get you to the back and check your wound,” Doc said to Dayton.
The front door slammed. “My, we are busy today.”
Amos Thralling ran through the kitchen door, almost body slamming Doc Billings and Detective Dayton. “The blasted tree is back! It’s back at the ravine.”
“I never knew it was gone.” Wendy looked at Kat.
Amos turned wild eyes on Wendy. “Well, Missy, it was in pieces in Arnie’s shop last night; today it is back in its spot pretty as you please—like nothin’ ever happened!”
“Okay, deep breath, Amos,” Kat said.
“You take a deep breath! Trees don’t resurrect themselves over-night—and they sure don’t replant themselves!”
“I know, Amos. Is Arnie playing some kind of practical joke on you?”
“Not this time. The dang thing has new leaves! Like its spring or somethin’.”
“Well, this is an amazing turn of events. I need to get to town,” Wendy jingled her keys and headed for the door.
“Now?”
“Got to let some people know—maybe I can help solve this mystery.”
“You want to put the whole Cove into an uproar and run off the tourists?”
“I know how to be discreet!”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ll start at the vet’s office to see if they’ve heard anything about a practical joker. It’s the quietest place in town—now the kennel cough scare is over.”
“The vet’s office?”
“Nyna hears a lot.”
“I can’t believe you need to go and flirt with Douglas at a time like this.”
“I can multitask.”
“Since you have your mind made up, do something productive while you are there—tell Carl Carnelian is doing great and she and BC are like lifelong buds.”
“Will do. Catch you later.”
Kat turned to Amos. “How about we go up to the ravine and have a look at the hag tree?”
“I’m coming, too.” Grandma Bricken took her cane from a hook by the doorway.
“What about the detective?”
“He’ll just have to come with us. We’ll leave as soon as Doc has finished with him.”
“Doc says I’m healing fast. So, don’t worry about me. I don’t need to be part of this mass hysteria. I’ll be fine right here.”
“Can’t leave you alone.”
“She’s right. Whatever came after you may want to finish what it started. Good thing my car seats six,” Paul said.
“You’re coming, too?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Word sure got around fast.”Kat pushed her way through the gawking crowd and toward the ear-piercing and now familiar bark of Carnelian.
“Not you, too?” Bart said.
“Thought you were at Old Town.”
“Almost inside. Then Horace”—Bart pointed to the owner of the hardware store—“met us at the gate waving and pointing toward the ravine. He couldn’t put two words together, so here we are.”
“Would you look at it! Amos wasn’t kidding.” Kat crept up to the hag tree. It stood straight and tall. The only hint of its destruction was the black and decaying hole in its trunk.
“If the rot is any indication, this tree is way past dead. How can it be growing leaves?”
“One of many questions we need to answer.”
“Can you people move back, please?” Ken’s pleading tone carried above the buzz of conversation.
Kat smiled. “He’s having a little trouble controlling the Cove, isn’t he?”
“He’s way too polite.” Bart faced the crowd and yelled, “Do what the man says, now!”
The noise dropped, and the sea of people stepped back just enough to make a small path to the tree.
“Thanks.” A begrudging tone laced Ken’s words.
Kat crouched down and scratched Carnelian behind the ear. “You’re such a good girl. Helping the big, bad policeman control the crowd.”
Carnelian jumped onto Kat’s knees and licked her nose.
“Don’t encourage her,” Ken snapped. “I’ve got a headache—not sure if it is the crowd or the pitch of her bark.”
Bart rubbed his chin. “It looks like the tree we saw at Arnie’s shop.”
“It was acting strangely,” Ken replied.
“Any tree that levitates and walks on its own is strange.”
Ken pointed to a thick stream of liquid flowing down the trunk. “What’s running down the side?”
“Hoping it’s sap.”
“Since when is sap purple?”
“Since Ravens Cove became the paranormal hotspot of Alaska?”
The crowd pushed closer. Ken whirled. “Give us some breathing room—and I mean now!”
The throng inched backward.
Arnie jogged forward and pointed. “My tree!” The onlookers inched forward again.
Ken pointed at the crowd and then Arnie. “Not another step!”
“Hey, Arnie, seems the tree doesn’t think you own it,” Horace yelled. Nervous laughter rippled through the gathering.
Bart stepped between the tree and the crowd. “Alright, folks, go back to town—now! You’re interfering with a police investigation.”
“What, you gonna arrest someone for replanting a tree?” Kat whispered.
“Not helping,” Bart hissed from the side of his mouth. He raised his voice. “Go on back to town. There’s nothing more to see.”
“I’m losing money standing here anyway.” Horace made his way down the hill. As the self-proclaimed leader left the hill, the crowd lost interest and went separate ways.
“What’s going on here?” Detective Dayton asked.
“Well, while you were fighting battles of your own, we were witness to an odd phenomenon. We saw this ugly old tree become whole and walk. Any theories?”
“My guess is someone’s playing a joke on gullible people.” Dayton walked over and gave the tree a push, expecting it to fall over. It shivered and shot sickly-yellow sparks toward his hand. Dayton jumped rearward.
“It’s back,” Bart said to Ken.
“What’s back?” Dayton asked.
“The tree—it kind of has a mind of its own.”
“It’s the guardian of this ravine.”
“Some kind of Native lore, right?”
“More like a curse,” Ken answered.
“Man, didn’t the FBI teach you how to deduce and reason?”
Ken glared at Dayton. “They did. I have.”
“I’ll say it again. You people are crazy.”
The leaves of the hag tree moved in a nonexistent breeze, and more sickly-yellow sparks fell to the ground. Purple sap, mixed with black fluid, coursed down the tree’s trunk.
“Okay, that’s just not right!” Dayton said.
“You haven’t seen the half of it.” Bart shook his head, remembering the two Iconoclast attacks.
“You look kinda pale.”Kat offered Dayton an arm. “How about I help you to the car?”
“How about you get me to Anchorage? I’m done with this place.” Dayton took two steps forward, weaved, and lurched forward.
Bart caught him by the shirt. “Not until someone shows up for you.”
“Let’s get you to the car.” Paul led Dayton away.
Bart turned to Kat and Ken. “So we have Iconoclast again?”
“I saw him go into the depths of the earth with my own eyes.” Ken thought back to the battle at Old Town. He visualized the blue energy jettisoning from angelic swords and the hair-raising screeches as the evil ones fell through the earth.
“Then who?”
“The only demon I don’t remember in the battle or seeing plummet into the ground was Pet,” Kat said.
“Come to think of it, I remember watching that purple and black ball fall from Iconoclast’s hand but don’t remember seeing it hit the ground.”
“This liquid contains his hallmark colors. Do you think he’s still here?”
“Thought he was just a pet—for lack of a better term. He never seemed dangerous.”
“All evil is dangerous, Mr. Melbourne.” Josiah said in a hushed tone. “The deception of this one is to be harmless. I think we have underestimated him.”
“Where did you come from?” Ken asked.
“I came with Paul, too. I waited until the crowd left. Seemed more discreet.”
“How did he avoid the abyss?” Kat asked.
“By doing what he does best. He avoided the battle. He changed shape and waited for a time he could move undetected,” Josiah answered.
“God help us.”
“Yes. As always, He is our only hope.”
The annoying ring of a cell phone got Ken’s attention. “Melbourne.”
“Glad to finally get you. The ravine victim has been identified.”
“You’re breaking up, Doc.” Ken walked out onto the path away from the hag tree.
“I said the victim in the ravine is a certain Ivy June Coistrell. Funny thing is her name’s connected to a murder in Oregon.”
“Okay. She found her way to Ravens Cove. Is that all?”
“Not quite. The detective I spoke with asked me about a Madame Piquant.
Seems those same fingerprints were found at Grady Spawldine’s home in Anchorage. The APD ran them through the database and the fingerprints for Piquant and Coistrell were identical. He faxed the wanted poster of Coistrell. It’s a match to the corpse.”
“Hmmm. Can you get her picture to me? I’d like to show it to Dayton.”
“I’ll have someone run it up to you.”
“So Coistrell and Piquant are one and the same,” Ken said.
Kat grasped Ken’s arm and whispered. “Madame Piquant is the one who held a séance at Spawldine’s a bit before he died.”
Ken shoved a finger in his right ear and walked up the ravine pathway. “So, Madame Piquant is an alias?”
“Seems like it.”
“I know that name! I need to get back up there.” Dayton pulled free of Paul. Paul caught his arm before he fell to the ground.
“Not a good idea, my friend.”
“I’ll crawl up if I have to.”
Paul shook his head and guided Dayton to Ken. “He insisted.”
“Stubborn son of a gun, aren’t you?” A half smile lifted Bart’s mouth.
“When I need to be. I told you about Piquant. There’s trouble wherever she goes. Now she’s here and connected to this corpse?”
“Seems she is the corpse.”
“Are you sure?”
“The fingerprints are a match.”
“I want to see the body.”
“I’d be happy to show it to you, except it went missing late yesterday—not very long before you were attacked.”
“Your ME lost a body? Why wasn’t there an attendant on duty? Is this whole town not only crazy but incompetent as well?”
“Doc Billings saved your miserable life. I would suggest you rethink your opinion of him.”
“What’s Billings got to do with anything?”
“This is a small town, Dayton. He is both the doctor and the ME. Being a small town, there certainly isn’t a budget for an attendant which makes Doc a one-trick pony. He has to sleep sometime.”
“Okay. So what made this body so important someone had to steal it?” Dayton mumbled to himself.
“You just asked the million-dollar question,” Ken answered. “It was drained of blood, it was mutilated and the heart is missing. What else would someone want to do to the poor creature?”
A breathless Eric Smotherly ran up the hill. The twenty-something mortuary attendant shoved an envelope into Ken’s hand.
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