Gorgon

by Mary Ann Poll

  “True. Anyway, the jar had stronger magic and it held the spirit—as long as the seal of death was on it. What is a seal of death?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “The story says the jar is the only thing which can contain Gorgon’s spirit. And Ken has the jar.” She picked up her phone.

  “What’s up?” Ken said.

  “The jar is Lilith’s prison.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I found it in an old book of Russian legends from Gran Tovslosky.”

  “A book of fairytales?”

  “Guess not all fairytales. It’s a prison. You still have it?”

  “It was in my office last I checked.”

  “This book says it’s the only way to contain Lilith.”

  “I’ll be finished here shortly. Then, I’ll go get the urn. Stay home. Wendy still there?”

  “No. She had to take BC to the vet. He’s injured, Ken. I’m waiting to hear from Doc Douglas.”

  “What happened?”

  “I think an eagle tried to take him. They were swarming the house earlier.

  ”I don’t want you alone.”

  “I’m not. Mrs. Tellamoot’s here.

  “Thank goodness. Talk soon.”

  Kat looked at Bernice. “Ken has the jar. If this thing is here maybe we can catch…”

  “Hello? What’s Doc Douglas say?”

  “Deep wound but not life-threatening. Says it has all the markings of an eagle talon. The cuts are from BC working himself loose. He said BC would have been a goner if the talons hadn’t missed the vital parts.”

  Thank you, God, Kat thought.

  “He’s keeping BC overnight.”

  Kat’s elation turned to sadness. “Is it necessary?”

  “He’s the doctor.”

  “If he thinks it’s the best.”

  “He also wanted me to tell you to be careful.”

  “Him, too?”

  “Something about when eagles start a feeding frenzy, for lack of a better term, they get fierce. You could end up as collateral damage if you get in the way.”

  “Got it.”

  “Hey, Kat, are those eagles still outside?”

  Kat walked to the living room window and looked at the sky. “There may be fewer of them now.”

  “How about we take a drive to the Inlet?”

  “I told Ken I’d stay put. Plus Mrs. Tellamoot’s here.”

  “Don’t you want to know what has the birds in such a state?”

  “I do.”

  “Well?”

  Kat looked at Bernice. “Can you stay for a bit?”

  “If you have something to do, I’ll be happy to stay and keep an eye on these clowns,” Bernice answered.

  Kat looked down to see Carnelian mouthing Benny’s front paws. Benny had an ear in his jaws and looked up at Kat. “They do seem to be enjoying themselves. Still, I don’t want to impose.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Okay, then. Come and get me, Winsome.”

  “So where are they?” Wendy looked left, then right.

  Kat pointed ahead. “They’re up closer to the mouth of the river.”

  Wendy inched the car over the wet sand. “Glad for all-wheel drive. At least I won’t end up like some of our unsuspecting travelers looking for a cheap place to camp.”

  Ravens and eagles circled high above the river, reminding Kat of a black whirlpool. “People are so thoughtless. Whoever caused this surely didn’t care about the danger to others.”

  “You know we get lots of visitors this time of year, Kat. Most of them don’t even know we have bears, much less the hazards associated with a bunch of excited eagles.”

  Kat jumped out of the car and strode down the beach. “Ignorance is not an excuse. I wish I could get my hands on the no-good jerk who almost killed BC,” she yelled into the wind.

  Wendy inched alongside. “Get back in. We can drive there.”

  Kat looked at the myriad of birds. “Good idea.”

  Wendy rolled forward, avoiding a flock of ravens swooping in to pick at a piece of the prize—a chalky white substance tinged in red.

  Kat leaned out the window. “What’s blowing in the wind?” she asked Wendy.

  “Oh my Lord! It looks like the leg of a pair of jeans, and I think the leg’s still in it.”

  “I’ve seen more of this phone than I want to see for the next year.” Kat hit speed dial.

  “Hey, Bart. We got another body,” Ken yelled.

  Bart took his eyes off a forest-green algae he had been watching creep up the side of the pine log cabin in Old Town. “Who found it?”

  “Kat and Wendy.”

  “Where?”

  “The beach.”

  Bart took the phone. “We’ll be right there. Stay put, and DON’T touch anything.”

  “Hope there’s enough left to touch. The birds have done a job,” Kat said.

  “Just what I wanted to hear.”

  Kat put the phone on the dashboard. “We wait.”

  Grandma Bricken looped her cane over its hook in the kitchen. “I wish we could have had more luck.”

  “Melbourne’s still not answering his phone.” Detective Dayton glared at Grandma Bricken. “Is there anyone who’d know where to find him?”

  “I do.” Kat breezed through the door and kissed her grandmother on the cheek.

  “Where?”

  “Last I talked to him, he was on his way to the beach.” She turned to Alese Bricken. “I have something I need to ask you.”

  “Where’s the beach?”

  “About a fifteen-minute walk from here. Go to Main, take the ravine path until it branches to the west. Take a right, and you’re on the beach.” Kat took a breath. “Gram, who took the picture in this photo?”

  Alese Bricken smiled. “Your Grandmother Tovslosky. Don’t you remember?”

  Kat shook her head. “I don’t.”

  “What a wonderful day it was! We took you and Bart to the bay. We walked through those abandoned cabins your great-grandfather built, then picnicked on cold chicken and rice that your Gran Tovslosky cooked up just for that trip. The Inlet sparkled in the sun—like someone had thrown a million tiny diamonds onto its waves. We talked all day about the legends and tales of Grandmother Tovslosky’s people.”

  “Wait! Grandmamma didn’t want the Russian legends to be overshadowed by the Native ones.”

  “Correct. Do you remember any of them?”

  “Bits and pieces. I dug out a book of Russian fairytales she gave me when I was little. There’s a story in the book that I think is the key to this whole mess.”

  “Excuse me. Are you sure Melbourne’s still at the beach?”

  “Why the need to talk to Ken?” Kat asked.

  “My partner’s missing. I need his help.”

  “I’ll find out.” Kat dialed. “Ken? Detective Dayton’s looking for his partner. He’d like to talk to you. Are you still at the beach?”

  “Yes. I’m going to be here for a while. Tell him I’ll come by when I’m done.”

  “Will do.”

  “Kat, you still there?”

  Kat put the phone back to her ear. “I’m here.”

  Ken scrutinized the shining gold and engraved lettering of the badge Bart had just handed him. “Let me talk to the detective.”

  Kat put the phone in Dayton’s hand. “It’s for you.”

  “Sounds like one of ours, alright. I’ll be right there.” He turned to Kat. “How do I get to the beach again?”

  “Tell you what, I’ll walk with you. It’ll be faster.”

  Ken met them before they reached the river’s mouth. “I found this.” He handed the detective a plastic bag containing a brass-colored medallion.

  Dayton’s face turned crimson. He shoved the evidence bag back at Ken. “I want to see the corpse.” He climbed up a soft hill of sand in the direction of a large white bag.

  Ken jogged up to the detective. “It’s unrecognizable. The birds did a job
on it before we got here.”

  “I’m a homicide detective, remember?” Dayton marched toward the oversized duffle bag.

  “Detective Dayton you shouldn’t be here.” Doc Billings looked at Ken.

  “It’s okay, Doc. What’d you find?”

  “Male. Liver temperature indicates he’s been dead a couple of hours—if that. There is no throat, no heart, and well, the eyes…”

  Ken guided Billings away from Dayton. “What about the eyes?”

  “In laymen’s terms? Purple and black goo.”

  “How can it be? The holy angels of God threw Iconoclast into the abyss last time!”

  Doc raised his eyebrows. “Can’t tell you, but I’m sure it’s what we are looking at.”

  “Who is Iconoclast?” Dayton spoke from behind Ken’s right shoulder.

  “Dayton, this is a private conversation.”

  “And that may be my partner over there! Who is Iconoclast?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “You listen here. If that’s my partner and this Iconoclast had something to do with his death, I want him in custody—now.”

  “Know how you feel. But believe me when I say, traditional police work will not bring this killer to justice.”

  “Good police work will bring any killer to justice!”

  “Detective Dayton, he is not being rude. He’s telling the truth,” Kat said. “Iconoclast is not human.”

  Ken’s eyes widened. The look said, You didn’t say that to him, did you, Kat?

  “Someone has to say it, Ken. This guy’s involved whether we wanted him to be or not. The truth is the truth.”

  Bart joined the group, peeling a latex glove from his right hand.

  Dayton looked at Kat, Ken, then Bart. “They have just confirmed that almost everyone I’ve met in this town is crazy.”

  “I overheard. Kat’s right. Iconoclast isn’t human.”

  “You, too?”

  “Here’s what you need to know. There’s a body over there oozing purple and black stuff from its eyes. I guarantee you the body’s missing a brain. There will be pinpricks at the back of the eyes, once they can get past the purple slime to confirm it. The Anchorage ME will verify this substance is not from Southcentral Alaska—probably not from Alaska at all.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because Iconoclast has visited Ravens Cove twice in my lifetime. Each time, bodies showed up just like this one. It was not a human who caused it. It was a demon.”

  Okay, it’s official. My career is now finished—in Anchorage and with the FBI. Ken hung his head.

  “Had to be said, brother.”

  “Had to be?”

  Doc Billings quietly witnessed the all-too-familiar interchange between Ken and Bart. “Gentlemen, we need to get the body identified. There was nothing other than a badge on him—and a tattoo.”

  “A tattoo in four inch black letters which says, ‘Everybody Worships Something?’” Dayton asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “It was Carson’s favorite saying. I think the identity’s 100 percent.”

  “Detective, there’s nothing more you can do here. How about you join us at the station?” Ken’s voice was full of compassion.

  Dayton nodded. “I’d like that. What I’d really like is to have a go at Mandy Thomas. I think she may know why my partner’s dead.”

  “Shouldn’t be hard to arrange a meeting—she’s occupying our only jail cell in the city.”

  Chapter 19

  True Colors

  Mandy jumped off the only piece of furniture in her cell—a steel cot covered by a blue and white mattress. She trotted to the bars. “I told you something bad would happen. But you wouldn’t let me make a call.”

  “Something bad happened alright, little girl, and if you weren’t in police custody, I’d arrest you for murder.” The vein in Dayton’s neck bulged, and his mouth went tight.

  “You can see Detective Dayton thinks you killed his partner.”

  “His partner? I didn’t kill any…” A light dawned in Mandy’s eyes. “The guy at Grady’s house with you?”

  “That is correct.”

  Mandy ran to the toilet and threw up. She rinsed her mouth under the faucet in the stainless steel basin. “Sorry, I’m better now.”

  “You seem a little too upset to have only seen him once. Who was he to you, Mandy?” Ken asked.

  “He was my contact. The one I needed to call last night.”

  Dayton yanked on the cell door. “You lying little witch.” He whirled on Ken.

  “Give me the key.”

  “No. You’ll do something we’ll both regret.”

  “Why do you think I didn’t tell you before? Who’d have believed me?”

  “Carson Watermill wouldn’t have done anything to break the law!”

  Mandy gripped the bars. “Let me tell you about your partner. He was one of Grady Spawldine’s favorite clients! And I was one of Carson’s favorite tricks!”

  Mandy skittered out of reach right before Dayton seized her fingers. “You’re gonna wish you’d never been born.”

  “If you can’t take the truth, you should leave.” Mandy breezed toward the wall and plopped onto the cot.

  “You are a real piece of work, Mandy. I didn’t know anyone could disgust me as much as you do right now. Thank heavens Wendy isn’t here.” Kat turned her back to the bars.

  “Go get her, would you? I’m just itching to tell Miss Know-It-All what I think of her. Maybe then she’ll finally keep her big nose out of my life! In fact, you can just tell her I wish she were dead! My life was great until she dug her claws back into me.”

  “You call being in prison a great life, Amanda?” Bart’s voice broke with emotion.

  “You are such a sap. You think I ever cared about you? No. Once you were of no use to me, I was gone. Or didn’t you notice?”

  “I noticed.”

  Ken broke in. “Mandy, let me see if I can help you understand what’s happening here. You’ve been used. There are forces at work which cannot be explained in rational terms. Believe me when I say, you’ve helped orchestrate the release of a living nightmare. No one is safe. Not even you. These things walk through walls just like you and I do through air. Save your own miserable hide, and give us some information.”

  Kat walked up to the bars. “The man died in a gruesome way, Mandy. If you have any humanity left in you, help us.”

  “There’s nothing you could do or say to make me help you.”

  “If you won’t help us. Maybe you’ll give us the information to help yourself. How about a little show and tell?” Ken held an eight-by-ten photo to the bars. “You want to end up like this?”

  Mandy’s cold eyes swept the photo. She turned her head to the wall. “The shock factor doesn’t work on me. If it didn’t work after I looked at my dead boyfriend, why do you think I’d care about another gruesome picture? Dead is dead.”

  “This one’s different. Look closer. Then tell me dead is dead.”

  Mandy smirked and pulled the picture through the bars. “What happened to his eyes?” She focused on the mouth frozen in an eternal scream. She threw her hands over her ears.

  “Dead isn’t always just dead,” Ken said.

  “Who is he?”

  Dayton’s eyes narrowed to threatening slits. “A good man until you got your claws into him.”

  “Carson?”

  “What’s left of him,” Ken said. “But, I’m sure he’s still around. The souls of victims like him seem to hang comfortably in the Cove.”

  “And they like to visit old friends.” Kat remembered Josiah being in this same jail cell and visited by a couple of twins who had been a scourge of the Cove until they lost their lives to Iconoclast.

  Mandy paled. “Why would he want to visit me?”

  “Well, I don’t have a clue. But I’m sure he has something to say. So how about letting me know what he wanted you to get her
e.”

  “A box and the key that locked it.”

  “A key like the one on the dog’s collar?”

  “The nasty thing. It almost bit me when I tried to get its collar off. That’s when I threw it into the street—right in front of an oncoming truck. Stupid sap hit the brakes and the dog took off toward the ravine. I should have drowned it when I had a chance.”

  “I’d like to take a chunk out of your hide myself. You’re the most evil person I’ve ever met.” Kat strode to the wall across from the cell.

  “Whatever. Anyway, Carson found out the woman here had brought a Russian-style box with her. He told me the box was a family heirloom and they’d been looking for it for hundreds of years. He contacted her and asked if she’d send a picture of it to him online. She did. He told me to come back to the Cove and get it.”

  “And how did Spawldine figure into this?”

  “Carson had some kind of a cult thing going—worshipped some woman. He was one of Carson’s ‘followers. And he had the statue, of course. Still, he started asking too many questions and, well, became a liability. So, Carson turned him into an asset, and he was my way to the Cove. You’re all saps.” She spat.

  “Mandy, you played into the hands of a murderer. Who’s the sap?”

  Mandy stared into space, as if a daydream had just taken control of her mind. Her eyes darted from left to right, then she let out a shrieking giggle. “I can’t change what’s happened. Don’t know if I’d want to, either. Bye.” She crawled backwards on the bunk and turned to the wall.

  Kat shook her head and said to Ken, “she wasn’t always like this.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Pastor Paul’s the closest thing we have to a counselor. Maybe he can help her.”

  “I don’t think she wants to be helped.”

  Ken cupped Kat’s chin in his hand.“No one is beyond hope.”

  “I’ve seen more of this woman’s personality than I ever cared to,” Dayton said. “I know it’s hard for you to believe because she was your friend. Still, Amanda Thomas is like all the other sociopaths I’ve seen. No conscience, no love for anyone but herself, and will do anything to get what she wants.”

  “You are probably right, detective. No matter what her personality type, this is going to break her big sister’s heart.”