No Rest for the Wicca (10 page)

“Guessing isn’t appreciated around here. We deal in cold, hard facts, Hawkes.” She flicked a brief glance in Cole’s direction, pulled a fat file from the corner of her desk in front of her. She opened her middle drawer, pulled out a lizard case and removed a pair of thin, wire-rimmed glasses. She set them on the bridge of her nose, opened the file, crossed her arms on the desk and looked at me. “I understand you’re acquainted with the main thrust of the case.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Saves time.”

I turned to regard Cole. “Another thing I wanted to ask you. Xia couldn’t remember, but did you—“

“We found a doll wedged under the desk about two feet from the body,” Cole answered. He uncrossed his long legs. “And yes, it was the same style as the others.”

I glared at him. “You’re awfully good at finishing my sentences and anticipating my thoughts. Your Inheritor talents at work, I assume.”

“One must constantly strive to keep up with a Wiccan psyche,” he returned. “Particularly one as finely honed as yours.”

The Commander rapped sharply on her desk. “Fine, children. If you’re done sniping at each other, might we continue?”

I sank back in my chair. “Fine.”

“Good.” Her stormy gaze settled on Cole briefly, turned back to me. “I imagine Special Agent St. John has told you why we were interested in your services.”

I drew a breath. “Yes. You all think there might be some sort of connection to voodoo on account of the dolls—“

“Not to mention the missing body parts,” The Commander’s eyes were as hard as her voice. “Our research department informs us there are many black voodoo rituals which require them.”

I bit down hard on my bottom lip, so hard I could taste blood. “Quite true, however, I must tell you, if you think I’m some sort of expert on the subject…you’re wrong.”

“Crap, no,” Commander Stone snorted. “It’s apparent you’re far from an expert, Hawkes. I think the fact has been effectively proven.” She leaned back in her chair, picked up a pencil, tapped it against the file. “This case could be somewhat delicate.
The men we suspect might be involved are all well-respected, pillars of the community.
We don’t need grandstanders or hot dogs on it.”

I felt a prickle along my spine, and my jaw set. “I don’t feel as if I’m either of those, ma’am.”

She set the pencil down. “But you are somewhat cocky, Hawkes. Your attitude could be a detriment, and—“

Cole leaned forward. “Commander, we digress. Every minute is valuable. Let’s get back to the present case.” He cut his gaze to me. “It’s not just the dolls or body parts, Morgan. Commander, may I?”

Commander Stone reached into her drawer and pulled out some sheets held together with a large paper clip and passed them to Cole.

“Our Crypto Department received this in the mail a few days ago.” He selected one of the sheets, passed it to me. “Would this be familiar to you at all?”

I looked at the paper in my hand. “It looks like a seven pointed star,” I said at last. “Can’t be a pentacle—they have five points.”

“The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn uses a six-pointed one,” Cole said. “It’s supposed to represent Mother Earth. You’ve never seen one with seven points? Not in a Wiccan nor a voodoo ritual?”

“I haven’t attended many rituals lately,” I said dryly. “And I’ve never claimed to actively practice Wicca.” I squinted at the drawing. “There are numbers next to the points. And what’s this in the middle? Is it supposed to be some sort of bird?”

“A badly drawn one, I’m afraid,” Cole said. “None of this rings any bells for you?”

I passed the paper back with a curt shake of my head. “No. Sorry.”

I leaned back in the chair. “I realize you were hoping to connect the symbol in some way to voodoo. Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Cole pulled a crumpled paper from the pile and passed it to me. “Do you know what this is?”

I smoothed the paper on my knee and nodded. “It’s a page from the Witch’s calendar. Where’d you find this?”

“We found it stuffed in the second victim’s jacket. See the date circled.”

As Cole reached for the paper, his fingers brushed mine. A jolt of electricity shot through me, so strong I lost my grip and let the paper flutter to the floor. We both bent over for it at the same time, so close our noses almost bumped.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

His lips curved upward in a devilish grin, but he said nothing, merely retrieved the papers and set them back on the edge of the desk. “August 1
st
is circled,” he continued.

“I saw,” I answered. “The date is significant, indeed, to witches. Lammas is one of the eight great Sabbats—nights of ritual celebration.” I felt my palms start to grow slick with sweat. “It’s also sometimes referred to as Lughnasadh. A day of procession, in honor of the dead sun god Lugh.”

Ago angajan asogwe. Lughnasadh
.

“Correct,” Cole nodded. “Modern witches believe certain psychic impulses, some current or tide of incredible energy, manifests itself on those dates." He held out another sheet. “We found this clipped to the back. We’re not entirely certain just what it is.”

I took the list, frowned. It consisted of a series of numbers, separated by dots and dashes. I passed it back to him. “A code, perhaps. I’ve never been very good at breaking them.”

“We’ve given a copy to our boys in Crypto. I’m sure they’ll be able to make something out of it.”

I expelled the breath I’d been holding. “If you think this killer is trying to mix black magic with voodoo spells, I have to tell you, it’s not an easy thing to do.” I slid my gaze over to the Commander, expecting some smart remark to come flying out of those lips. But she merely shook her head.

“
Professors Graft, Erdos and Morrow have all done extensive study and research on just that.
Someone thinks they’re onto something.
Now, grant you, I’m not at all certain any of them are involved,
but even I have been wrong on occasion.”

“The Commander and I don’t see eye to eye on this,” Cole added.

Gee, could have fooled me
.  Aloud I said, “So what’s my role in this—mercilessly hound the professors, maybe get them to ‘fess up?”

Cole allowed himself a small smile. “We’ll settle for your keeping your eyes and ears open. See if you notice anything out of the ordinary. Since you’re versed in both practices, you might be able to pick up on something. And, hey, if you want to use sex appeal on
any of them,
feel free.”

“
I doubt any of them are
my type, sorry,” I muttered.

“One wonders just what your type is, Morgan,” Cole said, soft so only I could hear. As I whipped my head up, he looked at Stone. “We don’t have much time. Acting on the assumption the date is crucial, it leaves us less than two weeks.”

“Cole’s right.” Stone jabbed her fist at me. “We definitely don’t want any more witches murdered, and if it’s all part of a greater, more sinister plot, we need to stop that too. If
those professors aren’t
involved, we need to find out who is. Time is of the essence. As I said, we need someone who’s dedicated, not afraid of risks—not a grandstander. So, I’ll ask—are you sure you can handle this?”

My jaw jutted forward. “I’d like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes, Commander.”

“One would hope. We can’t afford to be cavalier. I’ll be honest with you, Hawkes.” She whipped off her glasses, set them on top of the file. “I’m not certain you’re right for this assignment. It’s
St. John
, here, who championed for you, he and your Captain. Also know if you do anything to endanger this mission, you’ll not work in law enforcement in any capacity—including paranormal ghostbusting—in Central City again. Clear?”

I licked at my lips, hoping my surprise at her remarks wasn’t evident on my face. “I’m up to the challenge, Commander. In case you’re not aware, my cousin was attacked at the time of the most recent murder. It makes catching whoever’s responsible personal to me.”

“Not too personal, I hope,” Stone said. “Emotion clouds judgment, Hawkes.”

Gee, Commander. Tell me something I don’t know
. “Yes, ma’am.”

She looked at me a long moment, pushed back from her desk and stood up. “All right then. We understand each other.
St. John
will take you downstairs, get you checked in, give you your official debriefing.”

I rose. “Thank you, Commander Stone.” As I turned to follow Cole out, I paused. “You won’t be sorry.”

She didn’t meet my gaze. “See I’m not, Hawkes. Oh, and one more thing you should know.”

I paused, hand on the doorknob. “Yes.”

“The note around the doll’s neck. It had the number five printed on it.”

I frowned. “Five? But only three other bodies were found? That must mean…”

“There’s one more body out there, somewhere,” Stone waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Go, you two, and find this killer before more witches start turning up dead.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “No pressure.”

***

“I’m home,” I shouted as I came in my front door and kicked off my boots.

Xia padded into the living room, feet bare, a tray of freshly baked muffins balanced in one hand. “About time.” She set the platter down on the coffee table, slipped onto the sofa. “Bad day?”

I rubbed at my temples. A bitch of a headache had started to form, just behind my left eye. Stress. “One might say so, yes.”

.

She continued to stare at me. “You only get headaches when you’re stressed,” she said at last. “And the only time I’ve ever seen you tense was when you worked Homicide.”

I riffled the paper, threw it into my lap. “Well, I’m not on Homicide any more, as you well know, so something else must be responsible for my discomfort.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m just trying to figure out what.”

I looked at Xia. “It could have been you, you know,” I said softly.

My cousin shook her golden waterfall of hair. “What?”

“It could have been you—like Darla.” I pressed my fingers against my temple.  “It could have been you.”

“Oh, dear one.” Xia went to me, and her arms encircled me in a giant bear hug. “I love the fact you care so much, but—you needn’t worry.”

I managed to raise my head enough to look into her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because, silly,” she laughed. “I’ve white-lighted myself. To ward off danger. Nothing will happen to me now.”

I blew out a breath. There was one more reason why I didn’t wholly subscribe to White Wiccan beliefs. “Xia, a killer’s on the loose.
Maybe more than one.
I don’t think white-lighting will
help
.”

Her laugh trilled out again, and the sound grated on my last nerve. “Of course it will. I put the white aura around me. Everyone knows it’s impenetrable.”

My eyes narrowed. “Didn’t do Darla much good now, did it?”

Xia waved her hand dismissively.  “I read the tarot today. The Knight of Cups came up, surrounded by the Empress and Justice.”

“Which means…”

“The Empress will prevail, but she’ll have to be aided by her knight in shining armor.  Also--” She paused as the phone in the kitchen began to ring.  “I’ll get it,” she said, and hurried out.  I moved back to the sofa, selected a muffin, leaned back against the cushion. I wasn’t one to actually believe in the tarot.  It seemed too abstract for my tastes. Still…

When Xia and I had been little, our Aunt Grace had done tarot readings for us. I still remembered fingering the card of the powerful looking woman and being somewhat awed.

My aunt’s voice, crystal-clear.
The Empress i
s your card, Morgan.
It will alw
ays represent you.

And Cole, I thought, lips quirking upward, might easily be a handsome knight.

I’m not certain you’re right for this assignment.
It’s
St. John
, here, who championed for you
.

Why, I wondered. Did he want to see me fall flat on my face, so he could flaunt his male superiority? Or could he be secretly attracted to me?

Too bad we were like chocolate and vinegar. A bad mix.

I took a bite of the muffin. Cranberry, piping hot and good. I wiped my mouth with the edge of my sleeve. In the other room I could hear Xia, still talking on the phone. Knowing my cousin had never been one to end a call quickly, I sank deeper into the cushion, lost in my thoughts. The strange voice of yesterday floated back into my consciousness, demanding, insistent.

Ago angajan asogwe. Lughnasad
h.

Ago was a voodoo ritual exclamation, which usually meant attention. Angajan referred to a transaction between a person and an
lwa
, black magic in exchange for some sort of service to the god. Asogwe was the highest rank of Voodoo priesthood. Lughnasadh, of course, referred to the Witch’s Lammas. The phrase was an interesting mix of voodoo and witchery. But what did it mean?