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ALEX CASEY
I stood back and allowed Saga to examine the crime scene. She had come a long way since she had joined the FBI. There was a sureness in her movements that hadn’t been there before. She was able to look at evidence without letting the horror of what had happened get to her until later.
The FBI would be in good hands once I left. I had trained her well and she would overshadow me. It was a bittersweet thing to realize.
Nightingale wasn’t dead and would attack once in the morgue. It took all of my training not to let fear guide my feet a long way from here. At the same time that was a hard truth to believe as everything seemed normal.
This wasn’t the first time a person had been killed in a ritual murder. The local cops, especially the two deputies with us at the crime scene, didn’t have a handle on how to properly preserve a crime scene which was more than normal. The idiots didn’t know how to do things but that cried out as a normal day for me.
Yet no matter how normal this scene felt, there was something off about it. Saga would notice but, according to Jash, she probably wouldn’t figure out the truth for a little while longer. The Cult of the Tree had recorded the ritual so that they could keep people out of this area. They didn’t know much but they were dedicated to keeping innocent bystanders safe.
“Is this normal, Jash?” Saga asked.
“Do you mean the anticipation of the ritual?” Jash asked and pointed to the signs of the Cult having waited. “Or the ritual itself?”
“The actual ritual.”
“One cult I was in had others commit murders if they wanted to get the attention of our unholy matron. Even children would kill in order to garner her attention.”
“Children? What would you do?”
“They would demand a person dead and I would help to ensure their needs were met.”
Saga’s eyes met my husband’s who hadn’t even bothered to act ashamed. I knew he was a murderer and I loved him anyway. He protected me and those he cared for beyond reason. I shouldn’t love him like I did.
But I couldn’t resist those feelings.
“Was that ritual more intense?” Saga asked after a moment.
“I would consider the aforementioned ritual much more profane than what happened to Nightingale.” Jash replied. “While this ritual has a stink to it, you’ll be able to sleep soundly tonight.”
A shiver went down my spine at how Jash was so callously able to describe the death of a fellow agent. It almost seemed like he was bored. I knew how to close myself off when the situation called for it but this was different. He wasn’t battling with any feelings of fear or guilt.
He simply accepted Nightingale’s death as just another detail. Just like I would think of my signature on a check.
But, then again, Jash could do nothing about Nightingale. He had no chance to save the man or, at least, give him a more peaceful end. So he had decided not to worry about things that couldn’t be solved.
He must have become a master at doing this due to all the battles he had fought. How many terrors had he eventually overcome so he could survive?
On top of that there was the fact that the Dark Presence was a much more dangerous enemy. Nightingale was just a puppet.
“So is it true?” Thornton asked with a child-like innocence in his voice.
Thornton and Mulligan were the two deputies that had been waiting for us at the crime scene. They were also the dumbest pair of idiots I had ever seen. It was to be expected that local law enforcement for a place like Bright Falls wouldn’t be forced to hire the brightest.
And since Saga was in charge of the case and took lead on examining the crime scene, I was forced to endure the majority of their talk.
“What?” I asked in as polite of a tone that I could manage.
“Area 51.” Mulligan said. “Are there really little green aliens there?”
I hoped either Saga would finish examining the scene soon or death took me.
Whichever way would be quicker.
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