by T S Paul
Cat frowned at the screen. "I will admit I'm new at this. What do we know about this guy beyond the usual?"
"Other than the basics I don't know. I'll start digging. Mr. King didn't come up from the trenches so I wouldn't have run into him." Anastasia pulled up another screen and began another search.
"Back to my original question. Is there obvious dirt on the Senator?" Cat turned back to Ana.
"He's pretty free with his money. Wine, women, and work seem to be his normal life. His voting record is all over the place, but his constituency keeps voting him in."
"Keep digging. Between the brother or the Senator, there has to be a link. Agatha depends on us. This assignment is going to suck." Cat sat at her station and started her own searches.
Chapter 8
"Arise and greet the morning. There are souls to be saved as we are called to bring salvation to the infidel. Now is the time to awake and arm yourselves. We are called to service." The speaker was an unassuming man of medium build. His face was shrouded by a very effective illusion and glamor spell.
This was but one, of twelve training facilities located all over the world. The Missionaries of Death had grown as society itself expanded. They could trace their origins back to the Hashshashin of antiquity. They who were once called the 'assassins of the mountains.' A lone Sorcerer Assassin survived the destruction of the original sect following the Crusades. Through him, an entirely new organization was born. One of that used death to power their magick.
The shrouded speaker stepped aside as over a dozen cloaked figures stepped out of the gloom and into the light. "We have a new assignment. Our allies, the Strega, have a potential witness they wish eliminated. His name is Marvin Loman."
~~~~~~~~~
"Pizza is not my favorite food." Marvin glared at me from across the room. We both sat staring at Fergus as he tried to eat three pies all by himself.
"Tough. I'm not the world's greatest cook. That would be my Grandmother. She makes the best vegetable lasagna you've ever tasted. My cooking is best left buried in the backyard."
Fergus pulled his nose up from a slice of mushroom and cheese pizza. Sauce covered his head from his eyes to the tip of his nose. He looked a bit like a demon horse. "If she tries you better run or stock up on antacids!"
I threw up my hands. "It's not that bad, Fergus!"
"Tell that to Linnette. You do remember her?" He took another bite of the pizza.
"Who?" I twisted my face as I tried to remember. Briarwood isn't all that large, but most of the town feared me for some reason. "Remind me."
"Lindsey. She used to help your Grandmother clean the house. You tried making chili that one weekend. The whole house smelled wonderful. Chilies, tomatoes, and sweet onions filled the air. It makes me want some good chili right now. When it was done, she asked for a bowl, and you gave it to her without trying it first." Fergus sniffed at a chunk of pepperoni.
"That was Lori. You keep changing the names." I looked at him accusingly.
"Lori, Linette, Lindsey. You humans all look alike to me. She took one taste of that stuff, and we had to call the ambulance. You killed her! I liked her too. She brought me sugar cubes every day."
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "She didn't die! Her acid reflux kicked in. The chili was a bit hot that day. I shouldn't have used those Scotch Bonnet peppers as well as the Hatch ones. It gave it too much kick."
"Then how come she doesn't come around to the house anymore?" He looked up at me.
"Uh, it's been like twelve years since I did that. How do you know Lori doesn't go to the house anymore?" I stared down at the sauce covered unicorn.
"I have no idea what you are saying right now. How long do we have to stay in this pit?" He hopped off the pizza box onto the bedspread leaving little red hoof prints in his wake.
I looked at him suspiciously. He's up to something. "I've rented us a house in another state. We move there tomorrow. So far, we've stayed off the Mafia's radar. The team is supposed to be investigating them. With luck, we can get Marvin to court and take them down at the same time." I nodded in Marvin's direction.
"I just want to go home. Sheila needs me." He laid down on the other bed and curled up in a ball.
"How did you meet her, Marvin?"
He shook his head and mumbled something to himself. "At the Metro Zoo. She has the most beautiful eyes. I can stare at them all day."
"Does she feel the same about you too?" I felt like I was making progress. Who knew the little guy was a romantic?
Marvin rolled over to look at me. "Of course she does. She wraps herself around me and kisses my ears all the time."
"You humans are weird." Fergus sniffed at the pizza boxes again.
I stood up and closed the boxes tossing them into the trash. "You've had enough of that for today. Salad only for the next couple of days."
"But, but, but." Fergus started up his whine.
"You sound like Cappy's old Packard. Just slow your roll there buddy. Please go get cleaned up. You have sauce on your hooves. I'm going to step out and set some wards for tonight. Marvin if anyone comes to the door, don't answer it and barricade yourself in the bathroom. OK?" He murmured his reply which sounded like 'yes.'
"Hey! Can you carry me to the bath tub?" Fergus stared up at me.
"I assumed you would just jump. Isn't that what you usually do?" Scooping him up I now had sauce on my hand.
"Too far." He walked off my hand, stood and stared at the nozzles. "Hello?"
"You don't seem to have this problem at home. Why here?"
"Strange place. Too many people." Fergus ran back and forth under the cold water as it poured out of the faucet. He was almost unkillable, so I wasn't worried about him drowning.
"Marvin? Do me a favor and check on Fergus after a little while. He's in the tub with the water running. You might not hear his cries for help if he gets into trouble." The small man nodded to me.
Unicorns. I grabbed my spell bag, stepped outside and locked the door after me. A candy selling sea scout could break into this place, but I had to at least make an effort. The parking lot was silent as I stepped out. This hotel, if you could call it that, was just a bit off the beaten track. I was on the old Route 666 highway made famous by the occult stops along the way. This particular road was one that Jack told me to avoid. Too many "bad vibes," he said.
"Stay off it if you can Agatha. I know I'm probably only imagining things, but strange stuff happens on that road." Jack pointed out the old route on the map.
"Why even name it that? It sounds demonic."
"Blame Huey for that one. Route 666 was his idea." Jack chuckled to himself.
"Huey? Huey who?" I really did have no idea.
"Former President Huey P. Long. He thought it was a fun way to celebrate our defeat of the Demons and give folks a safe way to cross the country. Many say it's just coincidence that The Crowley Sanitarium is at one end and the Hellmouth at the other."
I remembered Grandmother's lecture on the Hellmouth of California.
Jack warned, "You need to stay away from what used to be Point Conception, California until your training is more advanced. Late in the Demon War, just before the Russian Volkhvs launched their spell that ended the war, the Demon Lord attacked America."
My expression at the time was one of shock. Nothing I had seen on the Histories of the World channel on TV ever said that about the War.
"Most Americans ignore or just don't know about the Hellmouth of California. Former President Huey Long joked about it and created a highway to commemorate the victory over the Demons. It's called Route 666 and is one of the most haunted roadways in the world. The highway ends at what used to be Point Conception, California. The Native Chumash people called the area Humqaq. It means 'The Raven Comes' in their mother tongue. Odin holds this area sacred as well. The Chumash believed that the souls of the dead passed between the mortal world and heavenly paradise at that point. It was a weak
spot in the mortal plane that the Demon Lord used to his advantage. Demons entered this world and began to advance upon northern California. Sun, surf, and demons were not something Californians wanted in their state. The National Guard became involved, and just as they began to push the demonic threat back, the Russian spell ended the war. The town is gone now, but the miasma of death and terror still remains.
I still shudder at the words death and terror. A demon incursion is not something I wish to experience again. Once in my lifetime is enough. Shaking my head, I began pulling out my spell components by memory. I thought I would protect the entire hotel. Why should I be the only one spared from the bad nightmares highway 666 produces?
~~~~~~~
Back in the hotel room Marvin Loman sat up on the bed. His captor was gone, but he didn't have access to the car. Sheila was home all alone, and she must miss him terribly! Cocking his head, he listened. The funny little unicorn was actually singing while bathing! He could hear what sounded like a pretty good rendition of 'Singing in the Shower.' He loved that song and began to hum along.
Marvin scanned the room. His eyes came to rest upon the hotel phone sitting there. Mrs. McGillicuddy, his next-door neighbor, promised to look in on Sheila to make sure she eats, but he couldn't trust her to do that. The last time he checked on her was just before this woman and her unicorn took him from those mean government guys. He grabbed the phone and dialed from memory. It wasn't safe, but Sheila was his life. Besides, who would that lovely old lady tell?
~~~~~~~~
"We've got him!"
Ysabel Luciano looked up from her knitting and stared at Don Masseria. The last Don to give her inaccurate information was getting to know the fish at the bottom of the East River. "Is it Marvin Loman or did you kill the wrong person yet again?"
"No, Ma'am. We're sure. Like last time he called someone on the payroll and gave his location." Don Masseria had a big smile on his face.
"Give me the details. Now. I can't trust you not to screw this up." She dropped her knitting and stared at the suddenly sweating man.
"He has an elderly neighbor that pet sits for him." The Don stated. "She gets occasional phone calls reminding her to feed or walk his iguana. Loman just called her a few minutes ago."
"Why?" Ysabel looked up at the Don.
"Why what?" He looked back.
The Strega leader rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Why give us the information?"
"Bingo. The old lady is a big player. She's into the local bookmaker for fifty large, and he noticed she lived next door to our target. The bookmaker is part of our network." The Don checked the paper in his hand.
"Reward the bookmaker, inform him he will move up in our organization for this. How sure is she of his location?" Ysabel said.
"Pretty sure. Loman described the hotel pretty well to her. Seems he's traveling with an FBI Witch and her pet unicorn."
Ysabel stared at her underling. "Did you just say it's a Witch with a unicorn?"
"Yes. Is that a problem?"
"Not for me. There might be repercussions from others, though." The Don looked at her with a puzzled look.
"Ignore what I'm saying. Just the ramblings of an old woman. Send the information to the Missionaries. Tell them to eliminate all parties involved. Hotel staff and guests too if they are seen. Complete erasure is what I want. Double the fee if you have to." Ysabel knew she had to move fast.
"Yes, Ma'am. I will tell them. Anything else you need from me?"
"No. Go." She instructed him. She watched the Don scurry away. He was one of the lesser intelligent of the bunch. Terza needed to marry better quality husbands if he was an example of what she was dating now. A Witch with a Unicorn could only be one person. The Strega had battled Marcella Blackmore before, and it seemed they would again. For now, though, it was someone else's problem. She picked up her knitting, and the dropped stitch.
Chapter 9
"... so they tested the guy's hands, and they had the glow of blood, but the litmus test gave a false positive. The suspect was the town dog catcher. They called us in to double check their results." Chuck made spraying motions with his hands.
"I don't understand. Why call the FBI in the first place?" Bill looked at Chuck.
"It was a missing person's case. The receptionist disappeared, and he was the only creepy guy in the building according to his fellow employees. The local LEOs first sprayed his desk with Luminol and half of it glowed with trace evidence of what could have been blood. Then they did the hand test. He, his clothing, his desk, and especially his car glowed. They believed they had a serial killer working right there among them." Chuck smiled.
"So? You're smiling so it must have been wrong." Cat made a hurry up motion with her hand.
"It was. I used our own mix on the same areas, but also ran it through the spectrometer as well as the nose test." Chuck tapped his nose.
"He ate lunch every day at his desk. Roast beef with homemade horseradish sandwiches was his lunch of choice. A chemical in horseradish causes oxidation in Luminol and produces a blue color. That was the first false reading. The second was his hands and clothing. Animal urine and feces are treated by the chemical as if they were blood. The man's job is collecting animals who don't want to be captured. If he wasn't covered in dog poop, he was doing his job wrong! His car was the best one. He was a smoker. Smoke..."
"Particles embed themselves into objects and can cause false positives." Cat finished Chuck's statement. "I remember some stuff from forensics class."
"Right. So they had to let him go, but he wasn't at the jail anymore. They checked the records, and he'd been transferred to the County Jail's work farm. He was chained to a half-dozen guys out at the local quarry literally breaking rocks!"
"Ouch. Is he suing the city?" Bill shook his head.
Chuck started laughing. "He is, but that's not the best part. The missing girl was at the beach with friends. She didn't tell anyone she was leaving because her father's the mayor, the same man who transferred this guy to the quarry. They didn't need Ana and me any longer, but they put the mayor and half the city council under arrest for corruption."
"That's a good one. My funniest case was..." Bill started to talk, but he suddenly looked at his phone. Cat and Chuck pulled theirs out too.
They all smiled and ran for the big rig. "Ana's found something!"
"He's not who he says he is!" Anastasia exclaimed as all three agents piled into the forensics RV.
"Who are we talking about?" Cat stared up at the main screen just as documents started to flash on it.
"Special Director Patrick King. He's not who he says he is."
"Are you saying he's an impostor, Ana?" Bill stepped next to Cat.
"Nope. Patrick King isn't his real name. He changed it when he infiltrated the FBI. He's part of the Strega."
"How? To get to a position like he has your documentation has to be perfect. The scrutiny alone practically breaks the applicant." Bill turned toward Anastasia.
"Documents might lie, but DNA doesn't. As you might know, the FBI and a few of the other alphabet Agencies keep DNA records of agents, family, and persons-of-interest. Directors have to present themselves for yearly physical examinations. Ever since Director Candid died in office in the early 1970s, it's been mandatory for anyone higher than SAIC." Ana pulled up the regulation on the screen.
"Who was Director Candid?" Chuck glanced up from his phone.
Cat admonished him. "Didn't you pay attention in history class at all?"
"I had you and Aggy to help me. Why do it myself?" Chuck answered.
"This is an easy one. Three brothers, John, Robert, and Edward. John Candid went to work for the Bureau after the Demon War. He was involved in some of the lesser known battles around the Pacific Ocean. He worked his way up pushing his war record. They found him slumped over his desk dead one day. It made papers worldwide." Cat pointed up at the screen. Ana posted pictures of the three men.
"Why worldwide?" Chuck m
oved closer so he could see better.
Bill laughed. "His wife was a movie star. Norma Lee. You might remember her from some of the musicals in the 1950s and 60s. She was away working on a picture. He was found on his desk not wearing any pants. His secretary, Jackie somebody, was the one that found his body. At first, they suspected foul play, but the secretary was able to clear herself. Turned out she was related to big Wall Street money. The autopsy results showed Addison's disease. That was what killed him. His family was cursed in any case. That was the real reason for the attention of the press, not the movie star."