Mark of the Demon

“Hey, Tio. Just looking for some people,” I said as disarmingly as I could. “I ain’t bringing no trouble here tonight.”

He curled his lip. “Wit’ warrants? No one here gonna help you snatch up folk.”

I shook my head. “No, man, it ain’t like that. I ain’t hookin’ anyone. I’m looking for some people to make sure they don’t get hurt. You know, I’m doing that protecting-and-serving shit.” I gave him a grin. My years as a street cop had taught me many things, and the most important one was that it was a whole lot easier to get help from people if you were nice and friendly with them. The second-most-important thing I’d learned was that there was also a time to stop being nice and friendly.

To my relief, he laughed. “Protect and serve! Yeah, you right. So how you gonna protect and serve us out here?”

I could sense the others in the group watching the interplay intently. I knew that getting any help from them depended completely on what happened with Tio. I pulled out the picture of Greg and showed it to him. “See this guy? I’m trying to find out if anyone out here has ever seen him around, talking to anyone, offering them jobs or anything like that.”

Tio glanced at the picture, then shook his head. “Nah, he looks too friendly and nice to be down here. He’d stand out like … like a little ladycop.” He tipped his head back and laughed.

I laughed with him, allowing myself to share in the joke. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m telling you, I wouldn’t be doing shit this crazy if I didn’t really want to help these people out.” I leaned in a bit closer. “Look, y’all know about the Symbol Man, right?”

Tio scowled. “That is some fucked-up shit, ladycop.”

“I know it is, Tio,” I said, lowering my voice. “But I’m gonna catch that fucker.” I pulled out the photos taken from Greg’s house of the latest victim—photos that showed her as a living, breathing, smiling person, not as a shredded, tortured corpse. I passed the top photo to Tio. “This is his last victim. You know who that is?”

Tio’s expression went stony. “Yeah. I know her. Knew her. Katy, dunno her last name. Saw on the news that someone else had been cut up by this asshole. Didn’t know it was her.”

I kept my face from betraying my elation at the identification, partial though it was. It was still far more than we’d had. “It was bad, Tio. You know I’ve seen some nasty-ass shit, but this guy’s the worst.” I gave him a level look. “I really need the help of y’all on the street.”

“Katy was cool,” he said as he pushed off the wall. “She was a bit fucked up, but she was tryin’ hard. She didn’t deserve that shit.”

“No one deserves what this guy is doing.”

Tio cracked his thick knuckles. “Lemme see that first guy again?”

I handed the pic over, trying not to let my relief and excitement show. Tio stepped into the light from the street-lamp and peered more seriously at the photo.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I seen this guy around. He comes and sits in the center here and draws, and then pays people ten or twenty bucks or so to pose for him. Seen him other places too.”

“Where else?” I fought to stay calm. I couldn’t appear too eager for the information or it was going to start costing me.

Tio scratched his stubbled chin as he considered. “Shit, I dunno. Mebbe down in the park.”

“Does he ever take pictures of the people when they pose?”

Tio nodded. “Yeah, that’s usually what he does. So is this the guy? This the killer?” He clenched his hands into fists. “Man, I will fuck his shit up next time I see him!”

I reached out and took the picture from Tio’s hand. “No. He’s dead now. The Symbol Man got him too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” I pulled out the page that I’d created with the pics of the unidentified people on it. The ones who I hoped were still alive. “How about these people? Do you know where I can find them?”

Tio peered at the page, then motioned one of the other bystanders over. A skinny white male with poor-quality tattoos on his arms shuffled up. Tio showed the page to him.

“I think I know some of these folk,” the second man said. “I mean, not personal, like, but just seen ’em out, y’know?”

“I really need to find these people,” I said. “I think that they might be in danger from the Symbol Man.”

Tio’s brows drew together. “Why he be goin’ after them?”

“I can’t really say right now, but we’ve gotten some leads that might”—I stressed the word—“link all these people—the ones who’ve already been killed, and then these folk—together. I just need to find them.” I gave Tio an earnest look. “If they’re scared of the police, at least let them know to be careful. Tell them not to go anywhere with anyone they don’t know.”

Tio was silent for several heartbeats and then nodded. “This one here’s AnnMarie,” he said, pointing to a picture of a white girl with a fleshy face and dark hair. “And this one’s Skeeter.” He indicated a picture of a rail-thin black man, then glanced around the crowd. “Anyone else know these folk?”

I tried not to react, but my relief was damn near overwhelming. Some of the others began to make tentative identifications, and I scribbled names quickly, breathless. With Tio cooperating, the others were a thousand times more likely to contribute what they knew. There were no last names, but it was still a phenomenal improvement over the nothing that I’d had before.

Tio looked up at me after I finished writing. “That gonna do ya?”

I gave him a smile thick with gratitude. “It’s a terrific start. And if you can spread the word to anyone you know, that would be fantastic too.”

He nodded once, serious. “I’ll take care of it, ladycop.”

“All right, Tio. I appreciate it.” I handed him a stack of copies of the pictures, then gave him a handful of my business cards as well. “If anyone’s willing, I’d really like to talk to them. We need every break we can get on this case.”

Tio tucked the cards and the pictures into a side pocket of his pants. “You got it, ladycop.”

“Cool. Stay out of trouble, Tio, all right?”

He winked and grinned. “Trouble finds me.”

“Then run from it, ya big goof!”

Chapter 18

I spent the next few nights repeating that same scene over and over in equally seedy locations, with slightly different players and awfully similar conversations. I didn’t try to blend in, just worked on talking to the ones I knew, the regulars. This was where my rep as a fair cop paid off. I’d put a lot of these people in jail, but I’d never bum-rapped anyone. And because of that, I had people who were willing to talk to me—especially when I told them what I was after.

At the very least, maybe I can make it too hot for this guy to get any more victims, I thought grimly as I headed home. It was only two a.m., but I knew that I needed to try to wrench my sleep cycle back to something more normal. I turned off the highway and onto the winding trace that was my driveway. I rounded the curve before my house, then slowed, a frisson of wariness going through me as I saw a car parked in front—a dark-blue Crown Victoria. Then the wariness was replaced by a curious mix of annoyance and pleasure as I recognized the car as Ryan’s. What the hell was he doing here again?

Sleeping, I discovered as I got out of my car and walked up to his. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as I looked through the window at him. His head was tipped back against the headrest and his mouth had fallen open, and if not for the fact that I had heard him snoring when I was still six feet from the car, I probably would have thought him dead.

The temptation to leave him out here was nearly overwhelming, but my curiosity as to why he was here won out. I tapped on his window with my keys.

Nothing. He continued to sleep and snore.

I banged harder, and this time he jerked awake, accidentally sounding the horn. He jumped and let out a blistering oath.

“Jesus Christ, Kara! Where the hell have you been?”

I was laughing so hard it took me several tries to answer. After a few deep breaths I managed to speak. “Out. Why are you sleeping in my driveway?”

He groaned and opened the door, rubbing at his face as he got out. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I came here looking for you,” he said, glaring at me accusingly.

I gave him a sour look in return. “I was out. Working. Why didn’t you call my cell?”

A flicker of something that might have been embarrassment crossed his face as he stood and stretched his back. “I didn’t think to. I thought that maybe you’d just gone out for a few minutes, since it was after ten when I came by, so I figured I’d wait for you. And I guess I fell asleep.”

“You know, you could have gone inside. The door you busted is only nailed shut with two nails.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I think that would have been a bit forward. Stalking you from the driveway is plenty for now.”

I laughed again. “Do you want some coffee? I can fill you in on what I’ve been doing.”

He glanced at his watch. “If it’s decaf. I can probably still scrape together a couple of hours’ sleep after you brief me.”

“Ha. I’ve just about given up on normal sleep,” I said as I led the way around the back of the house.

I climbed the back steps, unlocked the door, and entered, then stopped dead two feet inside the kitchen, causing Ryan to nearly run into me. He began to speak, but I put out a hand, signaling him to be quiet. I could see down the hallway and a rectangle of light on the floor.

The basement door was open and the light was on, and I knew that I had not left it so.

I drew my gun, though I had a sick suspicion that if anything was down there it would not be affected by a firearm. I sensed as much as heard Ryan pulling his gun, following my lead and blessedly not asking any questions. I glanced back at him and pointed toward the hallway and the square of light. He nodded, holding his gun close to his body, at the ready.

I stepped as soundlessly as possible down the hall, checking the rooms to either side as I went, hugging the wall to keep from hitting any of the creaky spots in the floor. My pulse sounded loud in my ears and I breathed shallowly, ears straining for any noise in the house, any clue that could define what I could be facing.

Ryan knew what he was doing; he slid around and covered the areas I couldn’t see as I eased down the hall. I caught the whisper of movement down in the basement and moved to the top of the stairs, shielding myself by the doorjamb and peeking down, covering the stairs with my 9mm.

A figure moved to the bottom of the stairs—something with blond hair and a wild print blouse. I jerked the gun back.

“Damn it, Aunt Tessa! I almost shot you.” My heart pounded as much from the thought of almost shooting my aunt as from the relief that it wasn’t something worse down there.

Tessa looked up and gave me an ingenuous smile as she climbed the stairs. “Now, why would you want to do something like that? Did you know your front door is broken?”

I sighed and holstered my gun. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ryan doing the same. “Really? I hadn’t noticed. What are you doing here? I didn’t see your car.”

“Oh, I bought a motorcycle yesterday,” she said breezily, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s parked on the other side of the house. I came over to see how your summoning went.”

I winced as Tessa reached the top of the stairs and saw Ryan. Well, now Ryan knows where I learned how to summon. Tessa gave Ryan a measuring look, then fixed me with a steely glare that I did my best to return. It was her own damn fault for assuming I was alone. Okay, so maybe it was an easy assumption, considering how rarely I had company, but I still wasn’t about to take any blame for the slip.

I shoved my hair back from my face. “I already told you what happened in my summoning. Why did you buy a motorcycle?”

“Because they’re cool.” Tessa frowned at Ryan, then shook her head and pointed a finger at me. “No, sweets, not your last summoning. I wanted to see how your next summoning went. But it seems that you haven’t summoned again.”

“I’ve been busy. There’ve been two more murders. And when did you learn how to ride a motorcycle? Do you have a valid motorcycle endorsement on your license?”

“Today, and, no, I don’t need to bother with that.” She turned to Ryan, smiling sweetly, ignoring my groan. “Hello, darlin’. I’m Tessa, Kara’s aunt. I saw you sleeping in the car when I came in, but you looked so peaceful that I just didn’t have it in me to wake you up.”

Ryan didn’t miss a beat. He smiled graciously and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Pazhel. I’m Special Agent Ryan Kristoff with the FBI. I’m on the Symbol Man task force with your niece.”

Tessa took Ryan’s hand, a small smile curving her mouth as she regarded him. “The pleasure is all mine. And how did you know my last name?”

“I’m a big fan of thorough research.”

I watched the interplay, arms folded across my chest. Why the hell had he checked my aunt out? Had he already known that she was a summoner? Well, he certainly did now.

Tessa raised an eyebrow and released his hand, then turned back to me. “I know you’re ticked at me for prying, sweets, but I’ve been worried about you. I thought you might try to summon on the dark, and I hadn’t heard from you in a while. I’ve been out of town for the past few days, so I figured I’d check that everything was all right.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">