If you marked the disappearances on a map, they were just far enough away from one another that they might not seem connected. And they also were spread apart enough by time—at least two months in each case.
As Rose noted all these details, her heart had raced.
There was definitely a pattern. She’d whipped out her worn journal and drew a crude map of the area and then marked the disappearances. Her breath had caught in her throat. Oh my God. It might just be what she thought.
Taking the edge of the laminated information card from the seat pocket in front or her, she used it to draw straight lines between the points. When she was done, she sat back, stunned.
The points formed a crude pentagram. Each of the five locations where a girl went missing helped form the star.
14
Present Day
Australia
Inspector Harris had fallen asleep at his desk.
He woke with a jerk a few hours later when one of the night shift patrol men came noisily into the station.
“Hey there, old chap,” the rookie said. He was a big burly guy who spent his off-hours building his muscles even more and then lying in the sun to bronze them.
“Good God, what time is it?” the inspector said, blinking.
It was already morning. Good thing he wasn’t married. He’d be in deep shit.
In the old days, his wife would’ve accused him of having an affair. In fact, she often did when he stayed at the station all night. It wasn’t her fault. If he wasn’t at the station working, he was at the bar getting drunk.
Probably the reason they would’ve divorced even if the accident hadn’t happened. In those days, he could stay up all night fueled by the station’s bitter coffee and pore over the details of cases, often having major breakthroughs in the early morning hours.
Now, he could barely keep his eyes open past midnight.
Papers were splayed everywhere.
The rookie thrust a hot cup of coffee into his hands.
“You’re a good sort,” he said and took a big gulp.
As the coffee flowed through him, he took a look at the papers he’d printed the night before. He’d printed a list of missing girls right before he’d fallen asleep.
The first thing that set his heart pounding was that the purse they found did belong to one of the missing girls. The DNA from the hairbrush was a match. The entire quarry was marked off as the search for other remains continued.
An armed guard was at the site overnight until search and forensic crews returned at first light. Inspector Harris hoped to have some more news on that front soon. What he dreaded was having to dredge the quarry itself. But that was a very real possibility. The aqua blue water was probably 150 feet deep.
Now, with fresh eyes, he grabbed a map and marked where the girls were from and noted when they had disappeared.
He’d been digging through the database of missing girls and realized with horror that there was a definite pattern. It had been there right before him the entire time.
The missing girl cases were spaced apart time-wise. Perhaps to deflect suspicion.
And up until Maddie May’s disappearance recently, none of them had received much media attention.
As he dug into the circumstances of the case, he swore out loud.
His face grew red with fury.
Besides Maddie May, each one of the other girls was a foster child.
Each case had been dismissed by most of the local police who thought the girls had run away from a foster home.
They had all been easy prey. They had been picked because their abductor had targeted them specifically, hoping that their disappearance would go unnoticed.
He frowned. But then why such a high-profile girl now?
He pondered the other differences between Maddie May and the other girls. One thing that struck him about her from his research and interviews by the homicide team was that she was extremely religious. She ran some church club for teens.
If, as he had heard, The Family were Satanists, maybe they targeted her out of pure animosity for promoting an opposing view? But that seemed too risky.
Harris had brought Samuel Dean Smith in because, despite the man’s alibi, a witness had claimed to see Smith drive into the entrance for the quarry about the time he was supposedly at his girlfriend Bella’s house in town.
For his money, Harris and his cult members had killed Maddie May and a host of other girls in a satanic ritual. He just needed to prove it.
Inspector Harris started researching Satanists and sacrifice. Most of the articles he pulled up were poorly sourced nonsense from want-to-be bloggers. But then he found a few academic articles he began to read.
It took a few hours, but finally he found an obscure mention of something that might be the answer: one article said that sacrificing a priest or nun held special importance. And that killing a nun who was under eighteen and a virgin would be one of the ultimate sacrifices. Maddie May wasn’t a nun, but still, as a preacher’s daughter, it might explain why she was a target.
15
Present Day
Australia
Rose slunk into the shadows when cars started to arrive at the quarry shortly after dawn.
The night before, she and Dylan had easily slipped past the armed guard at the entrance and basically had the entire night to prowl around with her tiny flashlight, looking at the crime scene. Rose figured security was laxer now that it was a few days into the investigation.
Although the entire quarry was taped off, there was also a smaller area marked by yellow crime scene tape that was on a flat hollow off to one side of the deep water. She figured it must be where the body was found.
She’d been able to examine the area by flashlight without the guard down below seeing since the entrance to the quarry was around a bend. But out of respect and not wanting to disturb evidence, she stayed outside the crime scene tape that surrounded the smaller area.
But she still got a good look and took pictures.
Within that crime scene, there was a clear pattern of small stones forming a pentagram.
The mark of the devil.
In the center of the pentagram there was a dark patch.
Blood? Body fluids? Something else?
Rose searched the rest of the area with Dylan close to her side and came across a large rock that was also marked off with tape. It was really a boulder with a flat surface the size of a bathtub. Its grey surface was stained, as well.
Rose thought of a scene in one of her favorite childhood books: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. One of the hardest passages in the book to read was when Aslan was sacrificed on a stone table.
That’s what this was. An altar used for sacrifice.
She knew it.
And sure enough, her flashlight showed a dark trail in the dirt leading from the boulder to the pentagram. The investigators surely had made the connection, as well, Rose thought.
For a while, as she investigated the grounds of the quarry, Rose let Dylan lead the way. His nose to the ground, he led her to a small cave carved into one side of the quarry wall.
As she grew closer to the entrance, Dylan let out a low whine.
Apprehensive, Rose shined her flashlight in the cave.
One corner was filled with a pile of small bones.
At first, she’d reeled back, but quickly realized that the bones all belonged to small animals, such as birds and some type of ground squirrel. And then she saw that there were piles of shed snake skin as well.
The cult members—or whoever they were—had advanced from small animal sacrifices to human sacrifice.
It wasn’t the Sultan’s style.
He didn’t bother with small animals. He went straight for the human sacrifice.
From what Rose had seen during her visit many years ago to his palace of dark evils in Thailand, his preferred offerings were young girls. Not animals.
At eighteen, it seemed that Rose was now too old to be one
of his sacrificial lambs. But he would still kill her. She knew this for sure.
He’d made that clear when he killed Timothy.
Why did he hate her so much? The only thing Rose could think of was that she was the only one of his victims to ever escape. That, and the fact that she’d set his home on fire. Yeah, that might have had something to do with it. He’d apparently been on the run ever since.
Even if this wasn’t the work of the Sultan, this was still some evil shit that needed to be stopped immediately. Rose would make sure whoever had killed that girl and those animals would never do it to anyone else again.
Then she’d continue her search for the Sultan.
She was patient. She was young and had her entire life to make him pay.
Of course, the sooner the better, but she wouldn’t let anything discourage her.
She’d find him eventually. And stop him.
After Rose had decided she’d seen all there was to see, she began to head toward the small trail that would allow them to sneak past the guard and dump them out on the road close to where she stashed her rental car.
But when she headed that way, she saw a flashlight coming up the gravel road toward them.
With a barely perceptible whistle for Dylan, they scrambled up a small path that ran high up one wall of the quarry. Near the top, there was an outcropping of tall rocks. They ducked behind them.
The guard shone a large flashlight around the flat area of the quarry where the pentagram and flat rock were. Then he briefly shined it toward the cave of animal bones and then made a wide swoop around the tall wall of the quarry before turning back toward the entrance.
The sky in the east was growing lighter. It was time to go.
But just as Rose was back down on flat ground, she heard the sound of cars.
Again, Rose whistled softly for Dylan. He followed her as she scrambled back up to their hiding spot.
She’d never thought anyone would arrive at the quarry this early.
This was not good.
There was only one way in and out of the quarry.
Rose’s car was parked down a small road not far from the entrance. Hopefully it hadn’t aroused any suspicion. Her plan had been to leave at dawn, but the guard making a patrol had thwarted that.
There were several small trails she could take, but they would lead her further away from her car and more out into the brush. She might not have a choice.
She watched two black vehicles pull up and saw men and women get out.
Then she heard something, and her heart sank.
It was a dog barking. From inside the car.
Dylan quivered beside her.
A woman opened the door to the backseat, and a large police dog bounded out.
Rose shook her head.
She was fucked.
16
Present Day
Australia
Inspector Harris stretched and looked around as the sky above the quarry began to turn a blush pink. He had now put together a pretty solid theory on what had happened to the Maddie May.
The Family had kidnapped her and murdered her as the latest in a string of human sacrifices.
At this juncture, it was up to him to build a meticulous case against them.
His best bet was to get some of the Family members to turn.
But for now, he wanted to take another look at the crime scene. The bodies were somewhere here, he just knew it.
The next step would be to get divers to dredge the quarry. A costly and risky endeavor. But it would be worth it to give the missing girls the justice they deserved. It was odd. Normally, he would work hard to give the family justice. But in these cases, these were the abandoned girls—the forgotten girls—lost in the system.
Nobody cared about them. When he scoured the missing person case files, the families hadn’t even bothered to return calls after the first week.
It broke his fucking heart. He would be the one who cared. He would be the one to make sure justice was served. Nobody should just disappear like that without someone noticing or caring. It was a travesty.
His eyes flicked to the visor of his car. If you flipped it down, a picture of his daughter, Kylie, was clipped to it. He looked at it several times every day.
He could only hope that one day she would forgive him.
He’d been clean and sober for years now. He never intended to drink again.
Her mother? Well, that was a lost cause.
She’d lost the use of her legs in the accident. She would hate him forever.
Maybe one day when his daughter was ready, he’d explain how both he and her mother had been too drunk to drive. He’d explain, without blame, how her mother had promised to stay sober and be the driver that night. But that she had been falling-down drunk.
And the only reason he’d even got behind the wheel that night was because the babysitter had called, worried about Kylie. Her fever had spiked.
She needed to go to the hospital.
So he’d gotten behind the wheel and then crashed into a tree.
When he woke in the hospital, his wife was crippled, and he’d been charged with drinking and driving. They were just lucky nobody had died and that he hadn’t hurt anyone else.
Lucky.
He’d lost his job. He’d lost his family. He’d lost it all.
It was only by some small mercy that his superior gave him a recommendation allowing him to get another job in a small New Zealand town. After ten years there, he’d finally managed to get a job back on the mainland here in Victoria. He’d written Kylie as soon as he’d arrived, but she hadn’t replied to the email.
Maybe he was lucky. But not when it came to having a family.
“Inspector?” It was Sienna Dahl, the department’s K9 officer. Her voice snapped him out of his gloomy memories. “We’re ready, sir.”
In the back of Dahl’s cruiser, he could hear her K9 whining. Then the dog began to bark. Dahl raised an eyebrow and then opened the back door. The dog came bounding out and tried to run, but Dahl had a tight grip on the dog’s leash. It pulled against it, snarling.
Everyone turned to look in the direction the dog was facing.
It was turned away from the main crime scene, looking up at a row of tall rocks positioned a little way up the hill.
Instinctively, Harris and the others drew their service weapons.
And then began to run.
Inspector Harris was a car length ahead of Dahl and her dog, so he spotted the girl first and put out his arm to stop the others.
A girl with long dark hair and a dog at her side stepped out from behind the rocks.
Slowly, she raised her hands into the air.
17
Present Day
Australia
Rose waited until the police lowered their guns and then carefully made her way down the steep incline, Dylan at her side, his nose close to her thigh.
When they reached flat ground, she reached down and took his collar. He looked up at her in surprise.
“Ssshhh, boy. We don’t want to give them any excuse to shoot you.”
Rose wasn’t a fan of police, but she didn’t dislike them either.
She was ambiguous in her feelings.
To her, they were basically useless.
They’d been unable to solve Timothy’s murder. She’d had to do it on her own.
But she still had a grudging respect for authority.
Nico had instilled that in her.
Which was ironic since he’d been a world-famous cartel leader, flaunting his crimes without shame.
Rose took a few steps toward the vehicles and then stopped, giving a slight nod to the man closest to her, who seemed to be the one in charge.
He nodded back and took a step toward her. She noticed his eyes scan her for weapons.
She was wearing her standard uniform: green khaki pants; a black tank top; black combat boots; a small black backpack slung over one shoulder. He couldn’t see the knife
tucked into an ankle strap. The first thing she’d done after leaving the airport in her rental car was stop by a hunting store to buy the knife.
“Are you armed?” he asked in his thick Australian accent.
“I’ve a knife strapped to my lower leg.”
He nodded.
“Are you from the States?” He frowned slightly as he asked. He was good. For most people, her accent was hard to peg. She’d never sounded like other Americans, even when she’d lived there. It had to do with her eclectic upbringing. Born in Mexico with Spanish as her first language. English was her second, and she spoke that until she moved to Italy and learned Italian. Then she moved to Barcelona and adopted the Catalan language.
“I have lived there.” It was not a way to avoid conversation. It was simply the truth. She couldn’t even say she was raised there. Not really.
“Do you live here now, then? In these parts?” he said in his lilting accent.
She slowly shook her head. “Just arrived last night.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed. He believed her. And was mentally ruling her out as a suspect.
“I’m Inspector Harris,” he said. She didn’t give her name. Not yet.
She took him in. He was old but attractive with warm eyes and a ready smile. His hair was thick but starting to bald. She could see the veins on his arms where they extended from his short-sleeved shirt. He worked out. A lot.
“Could we talk then?” he said.
“Okay.”
He jutted his chin over his shoulder. “In my car, perhaps?”
That offer from anyone else would have felt like a trap, but Rose instinctively trusted this man. More than anything, she trusted her gut. It had served her well her entire life.
Eva had taught her—and all the other assassins—this.
“As long as my dog can come.”
The woman with the other dog was gripping the leash tightly. The dog was still snarling and tugging at the leash, ready to tear Dylan into little bits.
Dylan had only emitted a low growl. He was waiting to see what Rose did. If she was calm, he would remain so as well.
Blood & Fire (Vigilante Crime Series Book 2) Page 7