There was one person who could tell him fully what they’d found at Riverwatch.
That person might also unwittingly hold the answer to their problem of finding the beast before it killed again.
Chapter Thirty-nine: Mystical Methods
Fifteen minutes later Sam was seated outside Damon’s office, waiting for him to return. The Desk Sergeant had a radio on low, and Sam listened to the news reports as they came in; the reporter’s information on Jake’s death sketchy and full of speculation. Of immediate concern was whether or not the serial killer police had believed dead in June had returned to Harrington Falls. Since Jake’s earlier involvement had been kept from the media, no one made the connection between the two, believing him to be just another random victim.
Sam knew better.
Come talk to me, he thought silently. I’ll tell you the truth. I’ll give you a story the likes of which you wouldn’t believe. He knew he never could, though. Jake’s death would forever be shrouded in mystery, the file permanently open, the crime unsolved.
Damon came through the door then, followed by a pair of deputies. He saw Sam and nodded in his direction, letting him know he’d be right with him.
From across the room Sam could see the fatigue on Damon’s face, the worry lines cut like canyons in his brow. His eyes were hollowed pits in his skull, and for a moment Sam thought the man was ready to collapse, but when he turned and invited him into his office, his voice was firm and steady.
The strength Sam was counting on was still there.
Damon ushered him into his office and closed the door. He crossed the room and slumped wearily into his chair, indicating with a wave of his hand that Sam should take one of the two vacant chairs in front of the desk. When Sam had done so, Damon tossed a thick manila envelope onto the desk.
'I shouldn’t be doing this, but those are the crime scene photos from your friend’s death. They match all the others. It’s the same thing.'
Sam didn’t move to take them. There was no need for a second look. The memory of his friend lying dead would never leave him.
Damon’s respect for him Sam another notch. He continued, 'The damn thing is back. The lab confirms it; same teeth and claw marks, same MO. But we don’t have any idea where it might be now.'
'That’s why I’m here,' Sam replied. He filled the Sheriff in on the evening’s events, outlining the use he had intended to make of the Bloodstone, Katelynn’s refusal to have anything to do with the idea, and the fact that he had no idea where the stone might be now.
'What can we do then?' Damon asked.
'We use the other one.'
Damon looked blankly at Sam for a moment. 'What?' he asked.
'I said: we use the other one. Do you have an inventory of the items you recovered at Riverwatch on the night Hudson Blake disappeared?'
'Sure.' The Sheriff dug around in the stacks of files on his desk until he found the right one. He removed a thick sheaf of paper bound by a paper clip, then selected several pages and handed them across to Sam. 'This is a list of everything we took out of the house.'
Sam scanned the list, praying that he was right.
He finally found it about three quarters of the way down the third page. One small polished red stone on a gold necklace; type unknown. He pointed it out to the Sheriff.
'Do you have all of these items here at the station?' he asked, handing the list back.
'Probably. The bigger pieces would have been left in place or are in storage in the courthouse basement, but everything in the specific room where they found the body was photographed, tagged as evidence, and packed up to be brought over to the lab for examination. Most of it is probably downstairs in the evidence locker by now. Why?'
'I think that Blake not only knew about the Nightshade, but that he was trying to contact it. I’m betting that the stone you found is an exact duplicate to the one Katelynn had, a matched pair. If I’m right, we can still it to trace where the Nightshade has gone.'
Agreeing that it might work, Damon got the keys and the two of them descended to the basement. Damon walked over to a door marked ‘Evidence’. Removing a key from his belt, he unlocked the door and disappeared inside. He returned a moment later carrying a large cardboard box.
'I think it might be in this one,' he said.
He carried the box over to a bench and set it down lightly. Inside were several rows of sealed plastic bags and a sheet of paper. Checking the list in his hand against the one in the box, Damon assured himself he had the right container, then he rifled through it until he had found the bag he needed. He pulled it forth, glanced at it and handed it to Sam.
Sam stared at what he held for a long moment. A slow, grim smiled crossed his face.
Inside the bag was a red stone identical in shape and coloration to the one Katelynn had until recently been wearing. This one hung on a long chain of gold.
'Is that it?' the Sheriff asked.
Sam nodded.
Damon ushered Sam down the hall and into a small room marked ‘Interrogation’. He took a moment to make certain the observation room next door was empty, then closed and locked the door behind him. It wouldn’t do to have anyone see them trying this when the rest of his deputies were out searching for the killer. He might know it was necessary, but there was no way he would be able to explain that to anyone else.
He and Sam took seats opposite each other, the stone resting on the table between them.
'How do we do this?' Damon asked, feeling slightly ridiculous but willing to go on despite it.
Sam shrugged. 'Damned if I know. Katelynn said that she has never tried to achieve the link consciously. The first couple of times it happened while she was asleep. The next, while she was busy studying in the library. The last was in the car that night.'
He reached out and picked up the stone, letting it hang from his hand. It spun on its chain, casting streaks of crimson light the color of freshly spilled blood.
'Maybe if you just concentrate on it, sort of project your thoughts in its direction?' Damon suggested.
'Worth a try,' Sam cupped the stone between his hands and gathered his thoughts about him like a cloak. He cleared his mind, striving to reach a state of calmness. He breathed slowly; in through his nose and out through his mouth, a deep, slow rhythm. Once he felt ready, he began to form an image of the beast as he remembered it from that fateful night at Riverwatch. He projected as much detail into the image as he could, relying on his recollection of the statue to flesh out the parts he was missing. Then he began to assault the image with questions, variations of 'Where are you?' hoping the Stone would form the link they needed to locate the beast.
Nothing happened.
Sam kept it up for several more minutes, while Damon sat quietly on the other side of the table, but nothing happened.
'Here, let me try.'
Sam passed the stone over to the Sheriff, who attempted the same thing.
Again, no luck.
For the next half hour they tried everything they could think of to get the stone to unlock its secrets. They projected their thoughts at it. They set it in the center of the table and spoke to it. They held hands and chanted at it.
Nothing worked.
'Damn it!' Sam got up from the table and began pacing, venting his frustration through physical action.
Damon glanced at his watch. 'We don’t have time for this, Sam.'
'I know, I know. Okay, maybe it takes a certain type of person to use the stone. Or maybe it needs to be attuned to a particular individual beforehand and we don’t know how to do that. Either way, we’re screwed. Unless
