Together they looked at the stack. “It appears that about two years ago the quarry received a large contract for granite. This was shortly after Esmae got hired, according to the books. It ended abruptly in April. Wasn’t that when your uncle got the fetish?”
Jake nodded, looking at the notes. “Do you suppose that Esmae and her cult knew it was here and were digging it up? I wonder how many cultists worked here.”
“Since we only know about Esmae, I guess we can't answer that question. Look at this log entry. Apparently they found something in the rock. When the foreman dug it out they were attacked by some kind of animal. They killed it by running it over with a bulldozer, and locked the object in the office.”
“Yes, and then the secretary murdered her boss and stole the object,” someone said from the doorway.
Dinah and Jake spun around and came face to face with a cop. He leaned against the broken door frame, his arms crossed, studying them through his dark glasses. “Do you kids mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
Jake and Dinah looked at each other, and Dinah took out her press pass. “I’m a reporter for the Firemountain Tribune, investigating the death of Caedon Willis.”
The cop glanced at her credentials. “And you are?” He raised his eyebrows and glared at Jake.
“I’m a business associate of hers. Jake… Rose,” he said.
“Well, we don’t like Firemountain down here. We are always getting your crap, and you two are breaking and entering.”
“Believe me, we wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't important.” Dinah moved closer and touched the cop’s arm. “We didn't take anything, and I would really like to know what happened here.”
The cop stared at them. “I should take you in. It isn't often that we catch a founder breaking and entering, but since you didn't try to throw your weight around, I'm going to let it slide. Besides, when you guys come looking for things it usually means that something a whole lot worse is coming our way.” He noted the surprise on Jake’s face, and shrugged. “I saw your car parked outside the gate and ran your plates.”
He moved into the room and sat down on a stool. “Apparently, during the quarrying of granite, one of the workers said that they found some ugly statue. At first, the foreman was worried that this might be some archeological site, but he took it into the office. The next day a wild animal attacked the workers. It came from the spot where they found the statue. A heavy-equipment operator bulldozed it. The owner locked the statue in a safe. His secretary, a woman named Esmae Lostean, had offered to buy it from him. He refused, and then one day she knifed him. That is where the foreman found him.” The cop motioned to the stain on the floor. “After that, Esmae disappeared.”
Dinah reached into her bag. She showed the photo of the statue to the cop. “Is this the statue?”
He nodded. “Do you know where it is?”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. Actually, Caedon Willis bought this fetish from the owner before Esmae killed him. We have records of him paying a significant sum of money for the statue.”
“That is actually what we turned up in our investigation. Though the owner made no reference to who it was from, or what it was for.” The cop doodled with a pen on a dusty tablet. “So why did she kill him if he no longer had the statue?”
“Probably for that reason,” she said. “Because she wanted it, and it was gone. She probably had her minions kill him.”
The cop snorted. “Minions!”
“What else would you call someone who blindly follows another person, and would do anything for them?” Dinah and Jake got up and headed for the door. “Thank you for answering our questions, and when this is resolved, we will send you a complete report, if you would like.”
The cop nodded. “The abridged version, please.” He took out his pad and wrote up a citation. “This is for misdemeanor breaking and entering. I think you can get around it in court. I will note you are a reporter in my report, and that you promised to show up for your court date. Even if we don't like you guys, you deal with things up there that we only see the tail end of, so good luck.” He ripped off the yellow copy and handed it to Dinah. She noticed Jake's name wasn't on it.
The cop grinned at her startled expression. “Even down here the founders have some pull. Not much, mind you, but some. I know Jake is a friend of the sheriff up there, and she will vouch for him. Plus, you did all the talking, and I got the information from you. No need to bring his name into things.”
Dinah and Jake walked back with the cop to their cars. He had pulled in behind them, blocking their exit. He waved and got into his car and took off down the road. Jake and Dinah looked at each other and burst out laughing. They stood there, leaning against the car, laughing until tears welled up in her eyes. It felt good to laugh, and the tension melted away.
“Let’s get back to the mansion,” Jake said. “We can figure out where the gate is tomorrow. Besides, I’m starving. I think I know where the gate is, but we need a break for a bit. We can deal with this tomorrow.”
After eating a late lunch at a local diner, they headed back to Firemountain. Hendricks informed Dinah that the boarding house was cleaned up, and that she could return. She returned to Rose's.
The house was clean, even the blood stains in the entry hall had been removed and fresh carpet had been installed. Leontine wore black and looked up when Dinah came in. “How are you doing, my dear?” Her blue eyes were misty from crying.
Dinah hugged the old woman. She felt frail in Dinah’s arms. Leontine started to cry again, her boney form shaking. “We are going to end this tomorrow, I hope. Jake has some idea where the gate is.”
Leontine dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “Your things came today. I put them up in your rooms.”
Dinah thanked her and headed back to her rooms. After having spent so much time in the mansion, her rooms felt strange. A pile of boxes was stacked in the middle of the sitting room, and she spent the next couple of hours unpacking her books and the rest of her things. As her belongings went onto the shelves and her stuffed rooster rested on her bed, the room began to feel more hers than ever before.
She looked at the old textbooks from school with nostalgia. She hadn't been to the bookstore yet and decided to take the remainder of the evening and explore The Spot.
She ran her fingers along the shelves of books and bought several new ones. She loved the smell of books and the way the pages felt under her fingers. After dinner at Chen’s, she went to the bar. Shattered Dreams was very different than The Broken Oak. A live band played on the tiny stage. They were surprisingly good, and the beat was contagious. Most of the people were on the floor dancing. She eased up to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender appeared distracted as he poured her one. He barely noticed the money and tip she slipped him.
As she listened to the music, Dinah thought about what she had seen and done over the past couple of days. She took out her notebook to make some notes. She worked for a while, until she noticed that no one was leaving the dance floor. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. On the dance floor, women’s feet were bleeding in their high heels. Up on stage, the band members were bleeding all over their instruments. All around her people were in pain as silent tears ran down their faces.
She tried to slide into her second sight, but couldn’t see anything. She stuck her hand in her pocket and touched the old rosary. Several forms sprang into focus around the dance floor. They wore decorated robes and chevron tattoos and were chanting something.
“O Saturni spiritus fulgentissimi ac potentes, nunc a superioibus locis descendite!”
As the chanting grew louder, Dinah recognized the language. On the dance floor, the dancers continued to move like puppets. They spun and gyrated even though their faces were contorted in pain. They were held mute by the power of the spell. Dinah searched the cultists for the focal point of the group.
“O tristes, adestote irracundi inquietantes ipsum Esmae uel filiam Gleebelix in od
ium utiliatatem descendite.”
Dinah studied the room, and noted that in one corner a woman in elaborate robes was standing apart. Black power swirled around her and fanned out into the rest of the bar. As new patrons entered the bar, they would drop their purses and coats on the nearest table and join the dance.
“Quamdiu hoc simulacrum durauerit creatoris potential, ipsum Esmae uel filiam Gleebelix in nomine cuius nunc istam ymaginem protraho.”
Dinah sprinted across the room and tackled the woman. The hood on her robe flew back, revealing an attractive woman with flame red hair. She smirked at Dinah as the power collapsed with an audible pop. For a moment the chant hung in the air. Dancers collapsed onto the floor, many of them nursing broken bones. The musicians fell silent, sliding to the floor, their instruments cradled in their bleeding hands. The drummer snapped out of his trance; his arms sagged at his side, but he seemed to be in the best shape.
Dinah turned just in time to see a big man with tattoos coming at her. She dodged out of the way as he swung at her. She rolled and came up, balancing on the balls of her feet. He grabbed the red-headed woman, and she blew Dinah a kiss as they fled the building.
Dinah stopped before the bartender. “Call 911.”
She grabbed a first aid kit from behind the bar and headed out onto the floor. She stanched the bloodflow of several dancers, their bandages quickly soaking through. On the stage, she attempted to treat the fingers of the musicians. By the time she was done with the most severely wounded, the wail of the sirens announced the arrival of the authorities.
Dinah sank into a chair, grateful that none of the dancers had had a heart attack. She stared at nothing until a woman stopped before her, and then looked up into the grim eyes of Laya. She sighed and laid her head on her arms.
“Again,” Laya said, sitting down in a chair across from her. “Would you be surprised to know that I got a call from the police chief of Chehalis telling me about your little escapade?”
Without looking up, Dinah fished the summons out of her pocket and held it up. “Whatever else you can say about Firemountain, at least it isn’t boring,” she said into her crossed arms.
“Are you all right? The drummer tells me you stopped the dancing and administered first aid to the most injured.”
Dinah nodded, still not looking up. “I was working on my notes. It took me a bit to notice that everyone was dancing. The bartender was acting funny, but I had dismissed it.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, the cultists—and I think that Esmae was with them—were trying to kill these kids by dancing them to death. I recognized the language as Latin, but I couldn’t translate it.”
“Why weren’t you affected?”
“Probably because I was carrying this.” She held up the rosary. “Father Pervis told me it was from the fifteenth century.”
Laya made a note in her book. Dobrowski approached; Dinah recognized his voice from the hunt the night before. “Apparently they felt the compunction to dance. A woman was passing out pills which she passed off as ex. Those who took the pills said the music was so intense they could actually see the sounds, and they didn’t feel anything other than a great urge to dance.”
Dinah looked up for the first time since Laya had approached her. “Do you have any of them?”
Dobrowski produced a snack baggie of the white pills. Dinah slid into her other vision, as she had come to call it, and saw tiny black shadows sliding through the pills. They radiated evil, and Dinah shut off her sight. At least I’m beginning to control it, she thought.
“I’d say that they are Melody,” Dinah said, “and not ecstasy.”
“How do you know?” Laya asked.
“Simple,” she answered. “I can see the demonic influence on them. Why are they doing this?”
“Probably to distract us. Didn’t you and Jake tell me that tomorrow the gate will finish opening? I’ve been so busy with all of the crimes and deaths that I haven’t been able to deal with the underlying problem. The Feds are breathing down my back, and threatening to come here. It’s been a nightmare trying to keep this in Firemountain.”
Dinah laid her head back on her arms again. “Can I go home now?”
Laya smiled and helped her up. “Sure, go and get some sleep. I’m sure that Jake is going to need you tomorrow.” She turned back to her deputies. “Oh, and by the way, thank you. If you hadn’t come here, I’m not sure how much longer these kids could have lasted.”
Dinah gathered her notes and stumbled to the car. She drove home in a trance. It was before ten, so Leontine let her in. She dragged herself up the stairs and collapsed on her bed, and for the first time in ages, she didn’t have any dreams.
Chapter 8
The telephone jarred Dinah out of her sleep. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. Fumbling for the phone, she reflected that exhaustion was a great cure for insomnia. “Hello,” she mumbled into the phone, stifling a yawn.
“I figured it out,” an annoyingly chipper Jake replied.
She sat up straighter in bed and propped herself up on the pillows. “What?”
“The gate, I know where it is.” The excitement was audible even over the phone.
“Where?”
“I was thinking, the first place that we really saw the cult was near Lasher’s Station. Not only that, but it was also where Esmae was ‘kidnapped’.”
“I did see her at Shattered Dreams, but I think you’re right. I’ll meet you at the station in an hour. We can tell Laya together.”
“Agreed,” Jake said. “See you there.”
Dinah stared at the phone and slowly set it back in the cradle. With a sigh, she threw back the covers and stumbled to the bathroom. She inspected her burns while she was in the shower. Already much of the redness had retreated. She dressed in khaki pants and a loose blouse, then threw a leather jacket on over her clothes and slipped on heavy boots. If they were going to Occipitone, she would need the leather. She grabbed some leather gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of her jacket before heading down for breakfast.
Leontine smiled as she slid a plate of scrambled eggs under Dinah’s nose and poured a cup of black coffee. Dinah devoured her breakfast, thanked the house mother, and dashed for the car to drive to the station.
When she pulled into the parking lot, she paused for a moment and took a deep breath. Why am I going through with this? This is insane, I must be crazy.
The skies were dark gray as Washington’s famous rain clouds rolled in off of the Pacific. They hung heavy with water as they dimmed the bright green of the forest to a deeper unforgiving color. The air smelled of pine tree and mold and enfolded the city in a heavy mist, somewhere between rain and fog. Dinah switched the windshield wipers to intermittent as she rolled down the deserted streets to City Hall. Those few residents that were out and about hunched down, their collars turned up. Dinah noticed they did not carry umbrellas; instead, they ignored the rain as they headed to their homes or the local coffee shop.
The sheriff’s office bustled with early reports as the night shift left for the morning. Jake leaned on a desk, chatting with Mahogny, a plump African-American officer with sparkling eyes, and grinned when Dinah entered the squad room.
“I’ve informed Laya as to where I think the portal is. She has agreed to assist us in the investigation of the area.”
“We’ll need to get the deputies leathered up. If Occipitone is anything like what I saw in my dream, they will need to be better protected.”
“Perhaps you should tell those that have volunteered to go with us what you saw in your dream.”
They knocked on Laya’s door and were told to enter. The sheriff was sorting through a pile of handguns and several boxes of ammunition. Iron swords were stacked in the corner along with several knives and daggers. She looked up when they entered.
“Thanks for bringing your arsenal. Five deputies have offered to go with you, the same five that went on the demon hunt with you. The rest of th
e department and I will move in on Lasher’s Station, and hopefully take out the cult and guard the portal.”
“We aren’t sure what to expect when we get there, but Dinah thinks that the officers that join us should wear heavy leather and kevlar. Apparently Occipitone is full of sharp rocks.”
“Umm… Miss Steele, how did you get this information?” Laya asked, setting down a box of nine-millimeter ammo.
“From a dream,” Dinah said.
Laya packed up the boxes of ammo. Dinah and Jake followed her out to the squad room where the deputies clustered in groups, whispering about the upcoming raid.
“May I have your attention please,” Laya said as she lay down the bag of supplies. “We will be heading out to Lasher’s Station shortly. We believe that the cult is working around there, and we don’t know what to expect. We do know that they have practiced some black magic, and their leader, Esmae, is an accomplished con artist. However, we are unsure how many have been recruited, or what their real motivations are.” She opened the bag of supplies and set out many flasks of holy water and boxes of ammo. “Will the deputies that volunteered to accompany Jake and Dinah through whatever portal or opening there is please take your holy water and a couple boxes of iron ammo each? You will need to load spare clips before we leave. Also take a couple of different guns and a blessed cross. The rest of you divide whatever supplies are left among yourselves.”
The deputies wordlessly gathered their equipment and stashed it in bags and on their utility belts. Felix clutched his rosary, strung medieval-style through his fingers.
Jake handed Dinah a couple of nine millimeters and four boxes of ammo. She took out her camera and snapped a few shots of the police preparing for the raid. Jake grabbed a couple more guns, several boxes of ammo, and a couple dozen flasks of holy water. After everyone had packed up their gear and the iron weapons had been distributed, they silently made their way to the squad cars parked out front. The desk sergeant and the rest of the skeleton crew stood by, grim-faced, as the deputies silently filed out of the station. Dinah slipped into the Mercedes next to Jake and buckled her seatbelt without a word.
Whispers in the Woods (Firemountain Chronicles Book 1) Page 16