Forbidden Passion (20 page)

He flipped a few more pages. “Here, she says that she intends to confront him. Make him tell her if the others are acting on the violent impulses. And.

“And what?” Marlena asked.

“If they’re exhibiting signs of supernatural powers.”

Coffee sloshed over the rim of Marlena’s mug, and she grabbed a napkin to mop it up.

Dante stared at her, his jaw clenched. “This entry was made the day before she died.”

Dante’s fingers stilled on the pages of the journal, “The project you were working on—it has to do with aggressive and violent tendencies?”

She nodded. “Several of the vials were blood samples from prisoners and violent offenders. There were’ a few from people claiming to have gifts. A woman with telekinesis. A man who claims he has prophetic dreams.”

He stewed over the possibilities. “What would happen if that blood was injected into another person?”

Marlena shrugged. “I don’t know. That wasn’t the purpose of our research.”

Dante considered her answer. With Daumer, he’d sensed both demonic blood and human blood. The same with that woman he’d met at the Dungeon, Prudence Puckett. What if some negative genetic marker in the blood had been transferred to the recipient?

“About the missing blood—do you think one of your coworkers or employees might have taken it?”

Marlena shook her head. “No. I talked with each one of them, and the FBI questioned and polygraphed everyone at the lab.”

An odd look flickered in Marlena’s eyes. “Blood from the Valtrez men was in two of the missing vials. They both claimed they have supernatural powers.”

His hands tightened into fists.

“I asked you once if you did, Dante. Do you?”

The temptation to spill the truth seized him, but the lie floated out easily. “No.” He suddenly stood. She was asking too many questions, getting too close. “Let’s go. That security consultant finally called and is going to meet us at your house.”

He had to focus now. And being around Marlena made that impossible.

He’d assign Hobbs to watch her.

If Zion wanted to hurt her because of him, then it was better if she was nowhere near him.

Marlena rushed to dress. A dozen questions pummeled her as Dante followed her to her house. She’d studied human behavior, and although Dante had looked her straight in the eye, she sensed he was lying.

The notations in Brenda’s journal disturbed her as well. If her death was connected to the experiment she referred to, what kind of experiment was it and who had conducted it? Did it pertain to the blood stolen from BloodCore?

And if so, how did that connect to Gerald Daumer?

He hadn’t mentioned taking part in any kind of experiment when they’d talked.

Flipping on the radio to distract herself, she listened to the weather report. “Meteorologists around Tennessee are warning that a blizzard is on its way. Reports of odd swings in the weather are coming in across the States. The Southeast has reported sudden flooding, tornadoes are ripping across Kansas, a hurricane has been spotted off the coast of Florida, and the western drought has caused major brush fires, which are spreading out of control.”

Marlena flipped off the sound, hoping the flooding didn’t extend to Mysteria. The town had enough problems. She parked at her house, and Dante met the security consultant at the door while she showered and changed.

The next hour passed in a tense silence as they waited for the security consultant to finish installing the alarm system. The technician showed Marlena how to activate and deactivate it.

Dante’s cell phone buzzed, and he checked the number, then connected the call with a frown. “I’ll be right there.”

He snapped his phone closed, and her stomach clenched at the grim expression on his face.

“There was another murder?” Marlena asked.

“Yes. A woman torched at Devil’s Canyon.”

Marlena sighed, the gruesome image playing through her head. “Do you know the victim’s identity?”

“Not yet.”

Marlena ran to the front door and stepped outside to search the porch. Dante was right behind her. “He didn’t leave me a trophy this time.”

Dante leaned one hand against the rail. “There were cops all over your place last night, and we’re here now. We could have spooked him away.”

“I wish he’d just show himself’ Marlena whispered.

“But that would ruin the fun for him,” Dante said. “He likes the game, likes toying with us, watching us chase after him.”

“That’s three women so far.” Marlena’s heart ached. “And only a day apart. That means he’s escalating.”

Dante wanted to comfort Marlena. But she was right.

He had to find this demon before he hurt Marlena. No more babysitting her himself.

And no more sex.

“I have to go,” Dante said. “But stay here. I’m sending a deputy to escort you to work.”

“I don’t need an escort,” Marlena argued.

“Listen, Marlena, this is not up for debate. He may be waiting until you’re alone to strike.”

Fear flickered in her eyes, and he hated himself for putting it there. But she had to realize the danger.

“Set the alarm. I’ll phone for a deputy on my way.”

She reluctantly agreed, and he rushed to his SUV. He phoned for a deputy as he drove out to Devil’s Canyon, and the officer said he would be at Marlena’s within minutes.

The snowfall intensified, gathering on the boughs and branches, collecting on the mountain ridges and peaks. There were miles and miles of mountains for Daumer and demons to hide among.

He pulled his jacket around him as he parked and climbed out, rocks skidding down the canyon as he descended the hill. Years ago, a prison had stood on this land, but a fire had erupted and the entire prison had gone up in smoke. All the prisoners, guards, and staff had died, trapped in the blaze. The scent of their disgruntled spirits wafted through the canyon, the sounds of their screams echoing in the silence.

Deputy Hobbs was already on the scene, a crime unit searching for evidence and snapping photographs. The scent of smoke and charred flesh mingled with death and the sulfuric odor of the spirits.

He studied the tree where the killer had left the woman, her torched body, the bite marks on her neck, the Satanic S carved into her chest and another burned into the ground. Considering the weather the night before, the rain could have extinguished the fire, meaning the killer must have stuck around and watched to make sure the woman was sufficiently torched.

The sick son of a bitch. He was truly evil. If not a demon by birth, a demon at heart.

 
But why torch the women when they were already dead?

 
By now, the killer had to know the ME had discovered that the women had bled out first.

 
Jebb Bates, the pesky reporter who’d splattered news of Jordie’s and Brenda’s deaths appeared, jogging down the hill.

 
Deputy Hobbs cursed. “I’ll ward him off.”

 
Dante’s cell phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Marlena. Shit, he hoped she was okay.

He punched the connect button. “Marlena?”

“Dante, I just got to the lab. The killer left the box for me here.”

 
His chest tightened. “Open it and see if you recognize the trophy.”

 
He heard shuffling, then Marlena gasped. “Oh, m’ God..

 
“What is it?”

“A ruby necklace..
.“
Tears laced her voice. “It belong

to Ruthie Mae Stanton, one of the nurses at the psych hospital.”

 
Dante frowned. “I’ll tell the ME and bring Stanton in for questioning.

 
“I want to be there when you talk to him,” Marlena said.

 
“Why?”

 
“Because Ruthie Mae was my friend.”

 
Her voice cracked, and he gave in. “The deputy will pick you up.”

 
He didn’t wait for her to argue. He hung up and stared at the Satanic S. This damn killer had to be working for Zion.

 
And he had to stop him.

Emotions welled in Marlena’s chest. Ruthie Mae was dead. Killed in the same brutal way as Jordie and Brenda.

 
Ruthie Mae, who was kind and loving and a dedicated nurse.

 
If evil was here in Mysteria, if those monsters did exist as she’d thought as a child, all the more reason for her to continue her work.

Dante might be able to stop this one.

But her work could be used to stop more, to create a cure, to eradicate violent offenders and save more lives.

She had to finish in honor of her sister and mother.

But Gene Stanton was going to need her when he heard the news about his wife.

 
She removed her lab coat and went to the front door of the lab to meet the deputy. They arrived at the sheriff’s office before Dante and Gene, and when they entered, Gene looked rumpled and irritated, then more confused when he saw her.

 
“What’s going on, Marlena? The sheriff dragged me in here and he Won’t even tell me the reason.”

 
“Let’s go sit down,” Dante said, then ushered him into a small room that Marlena realized was used for interrogations.

 
Gene rolled his beefy hands into fists on the table. “What’s going on, Sheriff?”

 
“Where were you last night, Mr. Stanton?”

 
“I pulled a swing shift
~tt
the warehouse. Why?”

 
Dante rapped his knuckles on the table. “Can anyone verify that?”

 
Anger flashed in the man’s blue-gray eyes. “My boss and two other workers. Now what the hell is going on?”

 
Dante glanced at Marlena, and she decided to take the lead. “Gene, I’m so sorry to tell you this, b—but Ruthie Mae was killed last night.”

 
Gene vaulted up, rocking on his work boots, his face turning a pasty white. “What? No.
. .
No.
.

 
“I’m so sorry,” Marlena said softly.

 
“Sit down,” Dante said. “I need to ask you some more questions.”

 
Marlena glared at him. “Gene, please.
.

 
He collapsed with a heavy breath, then leaned his elbows on the wooden table, tunneling his fingers into his thick white hair. “God, no.
. .
what happened?”

 
“She was murdered,” Dante said quietly.

 
A hiss escaped the man’s mouth, then he lifted his face and shock widened his eyes. “What? You don’t mean like those other women?”

 
“I’m sorry, but yes,” Dante said.

 
“No!” He pounded the table, fat tears streaking his pocked face. “Not my Ruthie Mae. Not like that?’

 
Marlena placed her arm across his shoulders to soothe him and he broke down and cried like a baby.

 
Dante stood, left the room, and stayed gone for half an hour. Finally he returned with a bottle of water for Gene and propped one hip on the table.

 
“Who did this?” Gene stammered. “Why haven’t you caught him yet, Sheriff? Why? What have you been doing?”

Dante’s shoulders tensed, and Marlena patted Gene. “The sheriff has been exploring every lead, Gene. I promise you that.”

“Then why is this maniac still out there?”

“Because he’s smart and cunning,” Dante said, seething. “That’s why I need your help.”

Gene sank back in the chair and scrubbed a fist over his face with a grief-stricken sigh. “All right. What do you want to know?”

Dante crossed his arms. “How long have you two been married?”

“Fifteen years.” His voice broke. “Just had an anniversary last month.”

“Were the two of you happy?” Dante asked.

 
Anger flashed in his expression again. “We had our good times and our moments. But.
. .
yeah, we were mostly happy.”

Marlena heard the warble in his voice as a sign there had been trouble. “Is there anything in particular that you remember? Had Ruthie mentioned someone or something bothering her?”

“No.” He parted his legs, braced his elbows on his knees, and propped his head in his hands as if struggling to get through the session.

“She mentioned to me that she’d been feeling odd since her surgery,” Marlena said. “Did she talk to you about it, or had her behavior changed in any way?”