Extreme Liquidation: Caitlin Diggs Series #2

by Gary Starta

  “What? That you will develop some sinister will and command people to die? Not a chance. You, my friend, will use it altruistically. I have no doubt about that.”

  “Can we as humans ever use power to benefit the many? It seems every human takes power and hones it to his or her advantage.” Diggs reflected upon her obsession with the robe. She shuddered to think what she might have done if Celeste hadn’t intervened.

  “I think people have to remain focused and to do that they have to honestly submit to a series of checks and balances every now and then. In the long run, Ed and I may end up leaving law enforcement to work for pharmaceutical companies. But would we use our power, our knowledge of biochemistry, to do harm? Much as you fear your power might render harm, we also harbor doubt about how the drugs we develop might be used one day. It’s easy to start with good intentions. You must obey your heart along the way though, and listen to your soul. I think that’s why Hainsworth fell in league with the devil. He might have stopped listening.”

  “So you don’t believe Hainsworth was really under the control of Aleister Crowley?”

  “I think he gave in to something. The skeptic in me doubts it was Crowley, that’s all.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one Deondra, or I’ll never get home before nightfall.”

  “Well if this is goodbye, I must say we had a short, but wild ride, Agent Diggs.”

  Diggs smiled. “I’d have to agree. We saved the world at least two times, but who’s counting?”

  Rivers drove Diggs back to her car. They embraced, both believing their time at the FBI to be finished. Before she drove away, Rivers had to ask.

  “Will you be reporting this ‘will thing’ in your field report?”

  Diggs shook her head, but the next morning she wished she had out of spite.

  ***

  Deputy Director Seals was adamant Connah Hainsworth had been drugged. He told Diggs in so many words the next morning.

  “There isn’t a shred of evidence to corroborate your theory, Agent Diggs. Can you prove he was an accessory to any of the murders?”

  Diggs stared at the field report in Seals’s hands. The Deputy Director had her. Nothing in the black and white world of field reports could begin to explain how Hainsworth had conspired with a devil. And even if she dared include her visions in the report, none of them would reveal the face of Connah Hainsworth. He had shrouded his identity in blackness. She had never seen his face in a dream. She could only implicate Spinoza and his accomplice, Cynthia Willis, for killing the water deliveryman. Again, no conclusive drug evidence could be found in President Duncan. He only tested positive for alcohol consumption or ethanol.

  The only people alive to implicate Hainsworth were Cynthia Willis and Hainsworth’s estranged wife. DC police had described Cynthia as delusional. She told them countless times she would never disparage the memory of her late Master, a man she could not come to identify as an FBI director. As for for Mrs. Hainsworth, she outright refused to attend the cremation ceremony for Connah. It was doubtful she would come forward as a character witness. Furthermore, not a word was found recorded on Dudek’s cassette tape. Whether this was a simple malfunction or magic was up for debate.

  Hainsworth had covered his tracks, as usual. But Diggs could take solace that she had finally avenged Geoffrey McAllister. And if an afterlife truly existed, McAllister might be able to rest in peace. Diggs had time to consider the possibility of possessing a soul over the last few days. She believed Crowley had inhabited Hainsworth’s body—another theory she could not include in her field report. If Crowley were reincarnated, he would have had to have a soul. A soul substantiated the possibility of an afterlife. One day she might see McAllister and Dudek again. But until that day, Diggs would be forced to abide by the rules of the real world set by men like Deputy Director Seals.

  “Agent, I have a theory myself,” Seals began. “We came into possession of a package the other day. It was addressed to you. Inside was a vial, its contents are being processed by the lab as we speak.”

  Diggs interrupted. “You know what you’re going to find, don’t you? Ethanol.”

  “That very well may be the case. There was also a note containing two words: ‘It’s over.’ Does that mean anything to you Agent Diggs?”

  “Yes, it means the threat is over. So whoever sent this is probably working in opposition to the conspirators.”

  “Really? I tend to doubt this. We found the charred remains of two scientists in Virginia. They died in a house fire Saturday afternoon. Reports from the Fire Chief indicate the strong possibility of arson. Maybe whoever sent this to you killed the scientists responsible for procuring the drugs. I think the scientists might have threatened to talk. So you see, this case is not really quite over. But that’s not what we’re going to tell the public, we’re going to announce the threat against American leaders has been neutralized with the death of Secret Service Agent Spinoza on Saturday. Then, we’re going to quietly investigate this lead. To see justice is carried out.”

  Diggs held back a sarcastic laugh. The man standing before her cared nothing for justice, he only cared about politics. If Seals did, he would have at least entertained her theory about Hainsworth’s dual persona.

  “Are you protecting Hainsworth over politics?” she asked.

  “I would need substantial evidence to accuse the director of the FBI in a conspiracy to kill mankind, if that’s what you mean. You know it, and I know it, you don’t have the evidence. But even if you did, do you believe it would be wise to admit the director was dirty? How could he gain face with Iran and the rest of the world? Diplomatically, it’s best to lay blame on someone outside the confines of the American government, because if we don’t, that nuclear attack you feared might actually happen. Agent Diggs, I want you to hunt this killer down and pin the blame upon him.”

  “I would strongly suggest you assign Sanchez and Johnstone to the case. They’re the two best agents you have right now.”

  “Are you asking for more personal time, Agent Diggs?”

  “No, but I won’t work without my partner. Rivers told me her reinstatement is still pending review.”

  “Bureau procedure, Caitlin.” Seals smiled, feigning camaraderie with the agent. “I think you’re still upset about Dudek. It’s too bad he fell victim to a drug.”

  “How can you say that in good conscience, deputy director? The toxicology reports are in, no ethanol was found in either Dudek or Hainsworth.”

  “Those reports are inconclusive, Agent Diggs.” Seals no longer feigned empathy. “The deteriorated state of both bodies affected lab analysis. The pathology department told me this in so many words. So you see, Dudek and Hainsworth were victims. Neither man was in their right mind that day. You should show the same respect to Hainsworth as you do Dudek.”

  Seals’s argument pushed Diggs over the edge.

  “Like I said, assign Sanchez and Johnstone. You’ll have my resignation on your desk tomorrow.” Diggs tossed her badge and weapon on Seals’s desk and exited the office without a further word.

  Seals crumpled some paper in his hand, contemplating if Sanchez and Johnstone were capable of corralling the FBI’s most wanted. If they were to fail in their efforts to locate the anonymous package sender, Seals would have a hell of a hard time finding another patsy to blame.

  ***

  One hour later, Diggs arrived home to find Tara and Celeste at the kitchen table.

  “So Tara, with all the hustle and bustle of the last few days, I never got around to asking you about the cat show. Did our little baby win any ribbons?” Celeste paraded along the edges of the table as if she were reenacting her “cat walk” at the show.

  “I’m sorry, sis. I think poor Celeste fell victim to a conspiracy of sorts.”

  “Why do you say that?” Diggs took a disparaging look inside the refrigerator, not one soft drink to be found.

  “There was this strange judge. I don’t know how to describe
it in tangible terms, but he sent shivers down my spine. Celeste growled at him every time she was called to the floor. It was spooky.”

  “Ah, a mystery to solve for another day.” Diggs pushed the fridge door shut. “Maybe little Celeste cares more about finding the truth than winning a silly blue ribbon.”

  The phone interrupted. Diggs engaged in a long talk with Detective Stanford Carter. As the conversation segued into talk of the future, Carter suggested Diggs might find a line of work where she could be her own boss. Amazed once again at the detective’s penchant for solving problems, she invited he and his fiancée Jill to visit sometime, she felt compelled to repay his kindness.

  “I can’t promise a home cooked meal, Stanford, but I can take you both to Gallagher’s. You’ll love their steaks. I promise.”

  Carter laughed heartily. “You’ve got a date then. In the meantime, say hello to my favorite cat, would you?”

  “Sure thing, Stanford, see you soon.”

  She hung up and found Tara scooting through the kitchen dressed for a party.

  “A date?”

  “Yes.”

  “With who?”

  “Tony.”

  “What about Peter? Didn’t the Kabbalah bracelet say you were meant for each other?”

  “Sis, I have to side with my heart. It tells me Tony is the one—at least for now.”

  Going with your heart is a good thing, Diggs thought.

  She retreated to the bedroom, Celeste in tow.

  Diggs plopped upon her bed. Before she could lie down, Celeste nestled herself in the cozy confines of her lap.

  Diggs reflected upon philosophy and superstition. She came to the realization that red bracelets and magical robes shouldn’t decide people’s fates. When it all was said and done the heart was still the best psychic connection to the soul. She dismissed further notions of chasing the reasons why she was changing—no matter how much she changed, her heart would always be her constant. The fact she was changing made her think about being true to herself. If she were to be honest about herself in her next line of work, she must also be true to those around her. And if she were to find a new love interest, he must know all about her visions and her sudden penchant for emotional outbursts. She thought discarding the belongings of Geoffrey McAllister would free her to find romance. Her heart would never be free if it contained lies. She made a vow to set a new course. In the next weeks she would consider a career change, she even entertained the idea of becoming a private eye.

  Diggs stroked Celeste’s velvety fur. “We’re a team, you and I. Don’t you ever let me forget it again.”

  Celeste seemed to purr in agreement.

  She took great solace in holding her beloved friend, allowing the world to roll off her shoulders, even if only for a moment. Diggs did not realize Celeste had wished this for her.

  And as she stroked Celeste’s back, a halo-like glow of light framed Diggs’s face and hair. For a moment, she appeared angelic, caught in a silhouette of light emanating from a window at her back. The light cascaded onto a standup mirror in front of her. For a second, Diggs looked up and caught her reflection amidst the light. Right now, the world was off her back and she was smiling.

  ~ The End ~

  About The Author

  Born and raised in Massachusetts, Gary Starta attended the University of Massachusetts where he majored in English and Journalistic Studies. He wrote as a newspaper reporter before taking the plunge into creative writing to pursue his love for science fiction. The publication of Blood Web launches a series of books to feature investigator Caitlin Diggs. Starta is a member of the Garden State Horror Writers Association. He currently lives in New Jersey with his wife, a few Tonkinese cats and an ever-growing science fiction video and book collection.

  Other Books By The Author

  Gods of the Machines

  What Are You Made Of?

  Blood Web

  Myopic

  Extreme Liquidation

  Murder by Association

  Alzabreah’s Garden

  Demon Inhibitions

  Kindred Killers