Gorgon

by Mary Ann Poll

  “Thanks.”

  The kid saluted and jogged back toward town.

  Ken opened the envelope and studied an 8½-by-11 sheet of paper. “She was so young.” He handed the photo to Dayton. “Ever seen this girl?”

  “Once. I ran into her with my partner on my day off. She’s his cousin. Think her name is Vera or Myrna… “

  “Her name’s Ivy June Coistrell.”

  “Impossible! She’s Watermill’s cousin.” Ken raised his eyebrows. “Facts don’t lie.”

  “Maybe Watermill’s cousin has a look alike. Maybe…all I know is when I can get in touch with him, he’ll straighten this out.”

  “Maybe he will,” Bart said.

  Dayton turned troubled eyes to Bart. “With the extensive mutilation of the corpse, I’m thinking the killer is someone in the medical field who has gone over the edge.”

  “I’d agree with you, if there weren’t additional facts that make that unlikely.”

  “Like what?”

  “Let’s take this tree for an example. How many trees have you seen that resurrect themselves. Or, spark and ooze violet sap? Kat asked.

  “Still think that’s a practical joke.”

  Kat’s apple-green eyes flashed. “I wish detective. Open your ears and your eyes. This is not human!”

  “The Kumrande maybe?” Bart asked Ken.

  “Doc said the arteries were cauterized—the heart wasn’t just ripped free from the chest like the Kumrande’s handiwork.”

  “I know I’ll regret this question but what is a Kumrande?” Dayton asked.

  Bart looked at the hag tree. “Let’s just call them another piece of local lore.”

  “So, my dead suspect was killed by folklore?”

  “Nope. Our lore would have left her arteries wide open. It’s something else.”

  “Reminds me of those quacks who supposedly remove disease by putting their hands right through the skin. Those guys use chicken parts and such, though.”

  “Well, since we are missing a heart, and it doesn’t look like anyone was trying to heal that poor creature, I’d say we’re talking about two different animals. Wouldn’t you?”

  “You have a point.”

  Ken turned to Josiah. “So, if Pet is here and if he’s planning an assault, why take a heart? Why take the body? The Iconoclast clan likes to leave evidence and terrify everyone.”

  “You’ve forgotten about Lilith,” Josiah said.

  Ken ran a hand through his hair. “She does add a new suspect to the mix.”

  “You have more than one fictitious bad guy?” Dayton shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know why I’m even standing here.”

  “Think what you will, Dayton. I believed the same thing not so long ago.”

  “I see why you aren’t with the FBI any longer.”

  “Didn’t say I wasn’t.”

  “Word gets around.”

  The sting of humiliation hit Ken in the gut. “Thought gossip was only believed in a small town.”

  “Guess not.”

  “Until you’ve seen the horrors we have, Dayton, keep your character assassinations to yourself.” Bart nodded to Ken. “Stick around long enough, and you may find out what we’re talking about. Now why don’t you go rest? You don’t look so good.”

  “I need to get hold of my partner and clear up this mess about his cousin. Then I need to talk to your ME.”

  “You can make calls from Paul’s car. Right, Pastor?”

  “Sure can. You ready, detective?”

  “I expect to be notified as soon as you find something tangible.”

  Dayton took a step toward the pathway. He caught hold of Paul’s forearm when his knees buckled.

  “If I do, you’ll be the first to know. Now, I’m going back to my town’s problem.”

  Bart patted Ken on the shoulder. “Well said, brother. Well said. Now, back to business.”

  “Remember the wig Wendy brought into the station?” Ken asked. “It was the same color as the hair on the old woman. You know the one at Arnie’s workshop last night.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. But what’s the wig got to do with Ivy June Coistrell?

  “What if the old crone was Ivy June?”

  “I’ve never heard of a ghost wearing a disguise. Seems pointless.”

  Ken tipped his head to the side and looked at Bart. “Since when is a ghost solid as a human?”

  “This Lilith is a new addition to my knowledge of evil,” Josiah said. “In the legend from Siberia, she took the form of a beautiful woman to tempt men. She also must take on her physical form to feed.”

  “We’re talking about a recently deceased human—not a few-thousand-year-old demon.”

  “Yes, but Lilith usually kills men—and children. Luckily, she hasn’t taken any children here. Still, if she was imprisoned in the tree and someone set her free, it follows she would have been starving for human blood—any blood. From what you’ve said, this Coistrell was a young woman and almost qualified as a child. Maybe this girl did not die—maybe Lilith can revive a corpse.”

  Bart looked from Josiah to Ken. “Well, as farfetched as it sounds, it answers some of the questions.”

  “I still think Old Town is somehow connected to all this. The malevolent boulder, too. We never found its ivory likeness, did we?”

  “Nope. Just another reason we need to go back there.”

  Kat shoved Carnelian’s leash into Ken’s hand. “Call me.”

  Ken held the leash out to Kat. “Please take her home with you. I don’t think taking this dog in there is such a good idea.”

  Kat snatched the strap and gave it a gentle tug. “Come on, girl, the big bad guys want to be alone.” Carnelian sat down and looked in the direction of Old Town. Kat pulled again. Carnelian backed up, arched her neck and trotted over to Ken. Kat stared at the empty collar then to the dog at Ken’s feet.

  “Is there no way to control this animal?”

  “I need a harness, and she thinks you need a bodyguard.” Kat snapped the collar back around Carnelian’s neck and handed the leash to Ken. “Whether you like it or not.”

  “Didn’t you put the key on the new collar?”

  “Couldn’t find it. I thought you’d put it somewhere.”

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe it’s still at Gram’s. I’ll check when I get a chance.” Kat took a step onto the path leading to her cabin.

  “We need to talk about strays as soon as we get a chance, Kat.” Ken yelled. He looked down at the nutmeg face and black eyes. “Come on, dog.” Carnelian heeled at his left leg and trotted in time with Ken’s footsteps.

  Kat turned around and smiled. “You are a perfect couple.” She called after them, then made her way down the hill with Gram and Josiah.

  Chapter 16

  Old Town

  Steel-gray clouds hung low over Old Town and drank the afternoon warmth from the air. An uncontrollable shiver snaked up Bart’s spine. “Okay, then. Let’s say this drop in temperature is coincidence and move on—fast.”

  The porch step groaned under Ken’s shoe. “Ouch!” Ken pulled his foot back and bent down. “Looks like we found the missing ivory.” A miniature of the boulder in Old Town’s courtyard lay face up. Its empty sockets stared into Ken’s eyes.

  “One mystery solved.” Ken dropped the ivory piece into a small Baggie and walked into the house.

  Carnelian growled and lunged at the staircase. “Easy, dog.” Ken pulled on the leash.

  “Ouch!” Bart slapped at the back of his neck. “Something stung me!” He looked around for a bee. A shadow caught his eye before it faded into the wall.

  “Man, you have a bear of a welt.”

  “Did you see a shadow?”

  “I didn’t. But it seems like Carnelian did.” Ken pointed at the floor. Carnelian’s legs were rod-straight, and the hair on her neck stood up. She growled at the wall.

  Bart took the stairs two at a time. He leapt over the rust-colored stain in front
of the attic door. “This is a different look,” he shouted back to Ken.

  “It didn’t look too good the last time. What are you talking—oh, I see.” Ken surveyed the room. A dark red fluid materialized on the attic ceiling. It plummeted at missile-speed to the pine floorboards, shimmied, then melted into the wood.

  Bart sniffed and doubled over in a coughing fit. “What’s that smell?”

  “I think it’s coming from there.” Ken pointed to a rectangular table covered in a tar-like substance. A cherry-red pentagram floated in the sea of black. Two laser-red dots bounced up and down in the five-pointed star.

  “How did that get there?” Ken pointed to a miniature skull hovering in the star, then shoved his hand in his pocket and yanked out an empty Baggie.

  “Welcome.” A voice echoed around them.

  A shrill bark reverberated off the walls and ceiling in the noiseless room. Ken resisted the urge cover his ears.

  “We are in a world of trouble,” Bart said.

  A one-legged creature materialized then vanished. “You are expected,” a disembodied voice said.

  A sharp pain ran up Ken’s back. He looked over his shoulder and was met with a razor-sharp claw.

  “We are definitely in a world of trouble.” Ken grasped the base of his flashlight. It ripped itself out of his hand and bounced off the far wall before it skidded to a stop. Bart’s light rose from his belt and did the same.

  “You won’t need those.” The small creature reappeared. “You are here to witness my supremacy—then to die.” Pet waved a gnarled finger in a circle. Yellow light appeared out of thin air and bounced up and down in front of the pentagram.

  “What is it with all this need to show off? We get it. You have powers we don’t.”

  A bolt of electricity flew at Bart. He bent toward the floor. Pain shot through his torso when a Kumrande’s claw dug deep into his skin.

  “Shut up and watch.” Pet pulled his hands apart. The yellow light grew until it touched the attic walls. A woman materialized. She was bound hand and foot to a wooden, spindle-backed chair. A serrated dagger was taped between her hands and pointed toward her chest. The knife shivered and forced itself downward. She wrestled the knife, throwing it to the left, then the right, and up toward the ceiling. Her upper torso heaved from the effort it took to keep the dagger at bay. When the blade halted in midair, she relaxed her grip. The weapon buried itself in her chest.

  The air sizzled and snapped. The sallow light faded. “You have been a witness to my true power. Now, the Kumrande will feast.”

  Homunculus spun Ken to face him. He pressed a stiletto shaped claw into his chest. “You will scream for death before I’m finished with you.”

  Ken grabbed a hairy wrist and yanked it back toward the Kumrande’s body until it snapped. He dove toward the flashlights. Two Kumrande gripped his lower legs, flipped him on his back. One took hold of his right knee and upper calf and bent it toward his head.

  Carnelian broke free and latched onto a Kumrande’s leg. The Kumrande screamed, snatched hold of the small canine and lifted her over his head.

  Piercing blue light flooded the attic. The Kumrande dropped the dog. Carnelian skittered to Ken’s side.

  The group of dwarfs fell to their knees and covered their yellow eyes.

  “Take that, you under grown goats!” Two LED flashlights rested on Kat’s hips.

  “In the name of Jesus, you are bound.” Paul thundered into the darkness.

  Ken bolted to the far wall and snatched up two silver cylinders. He threw one to Bart.

  Pet swayed on paralyzed legs. “I will kill you for this, you pathetic mortal!” he spat.

  “Be gone, evil one named Pet and you minions of Satan!” Paul yelled in response.

  A shadow hand came through the wall and traced an outline over Pet. He disappeared, leaving a mist of black. The Kumrande disappeared through the floor.

  Bart pulled Kat into a bear hug then he held her at arm’s length. “How did you get here?”

  “I was heading home and heard a sizzling sound. I turned around and saw a yellow ball of light shooting up from the ravine. It looked like it was heading toward town. I caught Paul at Grandma Bricken’s.” Kat took a breath a rushed on. “When I told Paul what I’d seen, he grabbed the flashlights and his bible and here we are.”

  “Pastor’s intuition. Or, spirit-guided steps,” Paul said.

  “I am ever thankful for your intuition.” Ken turned to Bart. “We’ve got to find the victim.”

  “What victim?” Kat asked.

  “The evil thing made us watch a vision of some woman killing herself.”

  “Well, evil likes to deceive. It may have been only a vision to destroy your strength.”

  “Can’t take the chance. I’m almost sure I recognized the high set windows of the cannery.”

  “Then, we start there. I’ll take this.” Bart took the second LED flashlight from Kat.

  “Now you and Paul come with me.” Ken grasped their elbows and gently pushed them to the chain-link gate. “Make sure she gets home okay, would you Paul?”

  “Of course, I will.”

  Ken handed Carnelian’s leash to Kat. “Take her with you. She’s worn out.”

  “What about protection?”

  “Look at her.” Carnelian leaned against Ken’s leg. Her eyelids drooped shut, then popped open.

  “Poor thing.” Kat hefted the ball of fur into her arms. “Don’t forget to call.”

  Ken patted his pocket. “I won’t.”

  Ken watched Kat retreat down Main Street, Carnelian’s tale swishing loosely with each footstep. “She’s a pretty courageous pup.”

  “Changing your opinion of dogs?”

  “Not what I said.”

  “Whatever.” Bart lifted his chin toward a steady stream of cars and RVs meandering through the Ravens Cove business district. “Such a normal activity. Little do they know the danger in this quaint small town.”

  “Never know what lies underneath the skin—or a city,” Ken said. “Guess we’d better get to it.”

  Bart headed into the courtyard. He pointed at the brown boulder. “Dang thing looks pretty safe, except for the ugly face. Who’d have known, given the right circumstances, it can devour a living person in a heartbeat.”

  “If the white wolf hadn’t shown up, not to mention God’s holy angels, we wouldn’t be having a tourist season right now.” Ken referred to Benny, Bernice Tellamoot’s pet who had mysteriously come to Ravens Cove at the same time as the buildings of Old Town. The tourist attraction took on a life of its own when the late Mayor unintentionally opened a portal that allowed Iconoclast and his army back into the Cove.

  “Here goes.” Bart yanked on the cannery door.

  “Same decorator, I see,” Ken said.

  Red-stained walls gave way to soot-covered windows. High-edged, metal-topped tables were positioned in a U-shape in the middle of the building. Inside the horseshoe was a woman, slumped over, a knife in her chest.

  “Why couldn’t it have been a vision?” Ken rushed to the woman. “Oh, this just gets worse.”

  Bart joined Ken in front of the corpse. “It’s Ivy June Coistrell.”

  “This corpse was breathing in the vision. What in the name of all that’s good is going on here?”

  “Better call Billings.”

  “Already on it.” Bart put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Doc. We found Ivy June Coistrell. I think you need to get to the Old Town cannery building. I know this should be something the Smotherly’s can take care of but there’s some extenuating circumstances on this one. Thanks, Doc.” Bart clipped the phone to his belt. “He’s on the way.”

  Ken scrutinized the body in front of him. The flesh reminded him of a days’ old bruise. The eyes had the vacant look of all the corpses he had examined in the past. “I can hardly wait to hear his opinion.”

  Bart whirled when a loud crash shattered the silence. He caught a flash of light on the second floor.


  Ken and Bart drew their guns at the same time.

  “Good place to hide.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Ken mounted the stairs first, was struck in his gut, and stumbled backwards. A ball of mustard-yellow light darted through a doorway into a pitch-black room.

  “Do you care to hazard a guess?”

  “Don’t know what it was, but you can bet it isn’t friendly.” Ken took a deep breath, jogged up the metal stairs, and into the vacant office. Bart came up behind him. “Where’d it go?”

  “Only God knows. I’m just glad it’s gone. I’ve had enough paranormal encounters for one day—for a lifetime actually.”

  “Anyone here?” Doc Billings’ voice echoed through the cavernous building.

  “Be right down.”

  “Just want you to know I’m applying to the morgue in Anchorage. It has to be more normal than this. And I think I’ve seen almost every way a person can be killed.”

  “Well, until you get that job, can you do your work here?”

  “Not much that I haven’t already done.” Doc pointed to the autopsy sutures. “Of course, the ritualistic knife is an addition since the last time I saw her.”

  “Sorry, Doc. I’ll get it.” Bart gloved a hand and withdrew the knife. A yellow-green fluid gushed from the site. A trickle of deep red followed.

  “Blood?”

  “Don’t be silly. The corpse had no blood.” Doc swabbed the area and took a sniff. “It sure smells like blood.”

  Ken dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a vial of clear liquid. “One way to find out.”

  Billings handed the swab to Ken.

  Ken stuck it in the vial and shook. The liquid turned purple. “Sure enough.”

  “Definitely applying to Anchorage.” Doc shook his head and walked into the daylight.

  “Hope not. We’d miss you.”

  “The only good thing I can see in this is we don’t have an additional victim on our hands,” Ken said.

  “I was sure it was Annie Scofland. I’m so glad I was wrong.”

  “Still, I won’t feel good until we know she’s safe.”

  “And we know the last person who saw her.”

  “Next stop is the antique store and some hard questions for Mandy Thomas.”