From Lucky Thirteen
22
Samhain
Morning
arrived all too soon. Ray made breakfast, but neither he nor Larkin had much
appetite. They set about making the place as desolate as it had been when
Larkin had arrived. With the small amenities Raif had added gone, the room was
barren. In the light from the three lit candles, the slate-colored baked dirt
walls glistened with moisture from both the humidity and being below sea level.
Cobwebs draped the rough wooden beams above them. The ceiling hung low; Ray
could touch it with his fingertips if he stood on his toes. The original
blankets on the bed were devoid of color and threadbare. Their feet left prints
in the hard dirt floor. Ray shuffled around to hide the fact there had been
more than two sets of prints and got Larkin to walk back and forth to the
restroom.
Ray looked
around and in disgust blurted, “God! How desperate Raif must’ve been to think
bringing you here could be anything but utter evil!”
“Don’t blame him.” Larkin defended the man who
had become her friend.
“Oh, I don’t,” he
assured her. “Raif’s my brother. He has a problem and was manipulated in a
weakened state.” His jaws clenched. She could almost hear the grinding of his
teeth. “That psychotic wench is gonna pay for Raif, for you, and for
twenty-four dead people.”
“Ray, channel
the anger.”
“This isn’t
anger, Angel. This is righteous indignation.”
“So? Now you
get to dispense the wrath of God?”
“Absolutely,”
he responded with a laugh. “Seriously, I’m ready for this day to be over. I’m
ready for Latrice to be behind bars. I wanna take a sixty-minute shower, get a haircut,
shave, and sleep in my own bed.”
“You’ll be all
alone.”
Ray grinned
mischievously. “I have Cyclops. I’ll hold him for ransom so that you have to
come and get him.”
“You have my
cat? You didn’t tell me that before.” Larkin remembered her dream of Cyclops
with the blue eyes. Here, again, is a
sign Ray is the man in my dreams—the man of my dreams. “Chris just said he
was being cared for. I guess I assumed Dr. Fairchild took him.”
“He put a paw
down and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He even insisted on riding along to lockup
while I questioned Dupree.”
She laughed at
the thought, then said, “About Dupree.”
“Just what I’ve
been waiting for. Don’t tell me. Let me guess.” He raised his index finger. “Here
goes your indulgence. You wanna give him another chance.”
“Yes, I do.”
“We’ll talk
about that when all this is over.”
“Ray, I’m very
stubborn. It would be the perfect word for the S in Sloan.” Her voice firm and
even, she shook her auburn head for emphasis. “Don’t even try to tell me what I should or should not do.”
“Whoa! Trick or
treat. Snap on me.” Thumb and middle finger added sound effects.
The fiery
redhead couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, I really do want to return to my
students. I think Dupree was as duped as Raif.”
“All right. I
see your point.” He nodded his head reluctantly. “Maybe the kid deserves a
break.” He held his hand up in a blocking motion. “But”—The word was edged with
objection— “He also needs major counseling.”
“I won’t
disagree with that.”
“Whew!” Ray wiped his brow. “Middle
ground. But now, I want to check out ‘hallowed ground’ again.” He used his
fingers to make quote marks around hallowed ground. “Let’s get this over with.”
He held Larkin’s hand as they
navigated the dark stairwells. Just outside the sanctuary, Ray put his finger
to his lips as they heard humming within the auditorium. Inch by inch he
cracked the door, hoping it would not squeak. His blood froze when he saw
Latrice arranging candles, a chalice, and a wicked, curved dagger on the altar.
With great caution, he closed the door and motioned Larkin down the stairs. Back
in the uncertain safety of the wine cellar, Ray said with a heavy sigh, “That’s
not a trick I expected. She said ten.”
“It’s lunch time. Maybe she came
over on her lunch break,” Larkin rationalized.
“Maybe,” he
agreed in an attempt to comfort her. “Come here.”
Frightened, Larkin
slid into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head and said, “We have to
prepare just in case.”
Ray retrieved
the handcuffs from his backpack. Nodding understanding, she sat on the bed. He
cuffed her wrist to the long chain attached to the headboard, hastily changed
into the grimy clothes from before, and stuffed his under the bed. He strapped
his gun to his back beneath the baggy sweat shirt and his spare to his ankle,
finally calling Chris to get over there.
“Don’t fret.” He
took Larkin’s free hand. “Maybe you’re right. And if she comes down here, I’ll
play dumb and say I thought she meant ten at night. I’m sure she meant night. I
can’t imagine she would attempt anything so heinous and gruesome in broad
daylight.” He kissed her fingertips. “Or, Angel, we can call this off right
now. I’ll wait alone here for her to come.”
“No. We have to
do this.” She smiled. “God told me I’d be the one to stop this. I’m not
schizophrenic,” she added to his questioning look.
“Okay. We stick
to the plan.”
♣♣♣
Ray’s phone
vibrated. “Yeah?” he answered.
It was Chris. “I’m
outside. Everybody else is on their way. I had to bring Raif. He’s as stubborn
as you.” She cut Ray’s twin a look. He stared back and bared his teeth in a
mock snarl. “But I guess for those still in the dark, he had to pretend to be
you a little longer. You’re a bad influence rubbing off on him.”
“It’ll be
fine,” assured Ray. “Stay alert. If I call you before nightfall, don’t even
answer. Just get in here.”
“Gotcha!”
♣♣♣
For what seemed
an eternity, Ray paced until Larkin said, “You’ve made a believer out of me.”
“Huh?”
“Well, you do
appear a little insane right now. What time is it?”
Ray looked at
his phone because he had stashed his watch in the pocket of his jeans. “Half
past three.”
“You’ve been
pacing without a word for almost three hours. I don’t think she’s coming down
here right now.” She jerked her head upward. “Go check.”
“How could
Chris and the stakeout and the tail by the FBI have missed
her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe
there’s a secret passage. It would explain how she could get to the cemetery
undetected.”
“Now that’s
scary,” Ray said, arching his brow. “Shit. You think?”
Larkin pointed.
“Check.”
Ray sneaked
back to the sanctuary. He eased the door open. No one was there.
♣♣♣
At seven, Ray’s
phone vibrated. “We’re setting up,” Chris said.
“Thanks,” he
replied and closed his phone.
He turned to
Larkin. “Come on, Angel. Let’s get as ready as we can.”
Larkin bathed
and allowed herself to be re-shackled. They settled in to wait. She talked for
a while about her annual haunted house. “How disappointed the kids will be.”
Ray’s dimples etched his face. “You like
Halloween?”
“It’s my
favorite holiday. It fuels the imagination. I hope the substitute Dr. Fairchild
secured for my classes followed my lesson plans. Yesterday and today the
students should be reading their original horror stories and sharing treats.” She
sighed. “I would be doing a haunted house tonight. I usually have at least
fifty kids show up.” She asked, “Ray, do you know why we have the Halloween
traditions we have?”
“No, why?” If teaching me keeps her calm, I’d lie even
if I knew every detail—which I don’t. This could be interesting. “Tell me,”
he encouraged.
“Well, it’s
called Samhain.”
“Saw what?”
She laughed
lightly. “Saw-wen. I promise it looks nothing like it sounds.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“It’s the
celebration of the Celtic New Year. Long ago before Christianity came to
Ireland and Scotland, the Druids were the religious leaders—they understood the
balance of Nature and conducted religious rites. They were healers, judges,
teachers.” She grinned, “Like me.”
“So, it’s a
religious holiday of sorts?”
“Yes. The Celts
believed this is the day when the barrier between the spirit world and Earth is
at its thinnest.”
“Yeah, Journey
mentioned that for Wiccan beliefs.”
Larkin nodded.
“The people believed that on Samhain the spirits of those that had died the
year before came back to look for a new body to inhabit. So, in an attempt to
scare away the spirits, they would disguise themselves and carve gourds with
faces with a candle inside, and bonfires were built. That’s why we wear
costumes and have jack-o-lanterns today.” She smiled. “I have many happy
memories of Halloween.
“Many
Christians deplore the holiday and consider it satanic,” she went on. “Ironically,
October 31st, is the day the Protestant Reformation began. On that
day in 1517, Martin Luther nailed his ninety-five theses on the church door in
Wittenberg, Germany. Many Reformed denominations celebrate Reformation Day in
place of Halloween.”
She tilted her
head to the side. “For Catholics isn’t ‘All Hallows’ Eve’ the day before All
Saints’ Day?” she asked.
“Yeah, it is,
but I’m not a very good Catholic these days. How do you know all this stuff?”
“I read, Ray,” she said with a little
exasperation in her voice.
He sat beside
her and put his arm around her. “It’s fascinating. Tell me more.”
Before they
could continue their conversation, the chamber door rattled. The detective jumped
to his feet and checked his phone for the time before stashing it in the pocket
of the grungy old clothes. He nodded toward Larkin and mouthed, “On the dot.”
Promptly at ten
o’clock, Latrice, wearing a long, black, hooded robe, entered the dungeon. Larkin
did know her menace, and her insides
quivered. “You!” Larkin said with a start. “I know you! You worked in Dr.
Sullivan’s office.
God, I told her
things about myself. I thought she was a nurse.
If you want more--
No comments:
Post a Comment