blood. Drops of the dried liquid formed a trail across the surface of the counter. I followed it with my eyes until it ended at a roughly circular spot that was devoid of the scattered cloves.
“Have the evidence technicians removed anything in here?” I asked.
“No,” Martin replied. “Like I said, they haven’t made it this far except to set markers and take a few pictures.”
“Something is missing,” I muttered.
“What did you say?” Ben asked.
“Something is missing,” I said louder, as I pointed to the clear spot. “Whatever she did, it involved a bottle or a jar maybe. See this round spot here that doesn’t have any cloves on it?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “So what’d she do?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Whaddaya mean ya’ can’t tell?”
“I mean I can’t tell,” I repeated. “I’ve never seen this exact type of magickal working before. The basic components of a lust spell are here with the red candle and the cloves. But, by the same token, you also have blood, which I’m betting once belonged to Lewis. And, see these black droplets here? That’s sealing wax.”
“You mean like the stuff they put on the back of fancy envelopes?” Martin asked.
“Exactly. Whatever she did, she sealed it in a bottle or jar.”
“So it’s some kind of Voodoo?” Martin asked.
“Hoodoo, maybe. Even more likely, it’s some manner of old folk magick,” I told him.
“Okay, well I hate to be a skeptic, Rowan, but what bearing does it really have on this investigation?”
“For the police, probably nothing more than evidence that she was here.”
“So it’s nothing,” he replied.
“No, it’s something. I just don’t know what because it doesn’t make sense.”
“Which part?” Ben asked.
“The outward appearance of the spell in general. I don’t get why she would be doing some kind of convoluted sex magick because she killed him out of anger, not for the thrill.”
“Do you think maybe you could be wrong about that part?” Martin asked.
“I could be wrong about all kinds of things,” I replied. “But, I can guarantee you that I don’t feel any sexual energy emanating from this apartment, and that has always been the predominant psychic feature of all the others.”
“Okay, so then what do you think the bottle or jar was for?”
“Like I said, to contain whatever magick she performed, so that in itself creates another mystery. Sealing a magickal working into a bottle isn’t unusual, but it can be done for just about any type of spell, so it really doesn’t give us any clue as to exactly what she did.”
“But, if I’m followin’ ya’, you’re sayin’ maybe she made ‘erself some lust in a bottle,” Ben interjected.
“On the surface that’s what it looks like, but we’re talking about blood magick here, so I’m seriously out of my element. Even so, since the container isn’t here, I’d be willing to bet she either has it with her or she buried it somewhere.”
“And that means what?” Ben asked.
I dipped my head and gave him a half shrug. “Unfortunately, it means we aren’t going to find out what it is until it does whatever it’s supposed to do.”
CHAPTER 31:
“So what do we do now,” I asked.
Ben and I had signed out of the crime scene shortly after Detective Martin had showed us the mysterious bit of magick Annalise had worked in the kitchen. My headache still hadn’t really subsided at this point, but a good amount of the tension had finally ebbed. The most important thing for me at the moment, however, was that my skin was no longer prickling with the unbridled anger that had been so prevalent throughout the apartment.
“Whaddaya mean?” Ben returned. “It’s simple. We go back to your place, pick up Firehair and your luggage, then I take you two ta’ my place.”
“I know that,” I said. “I meant, what do we do about stopping Annalise?”
“Gotta find ‘er first, so unless you got some kinda Twilight Zone thing tellin’ us where ta’ look, it’s just gonna take police work and a bit of luck.”
“Define police work.”
“We ask around and hope somebody saw somethin’.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s where the luck comes in,” he grunted. “If we’re lucky, someone did and will be willin’ ta’ talk to us about it.”
“That doesn’t sound terribly promising.”
“Welcome to the real world, Row. The majority of the time, that’s how criminals get caught,” he said with a shake of his head. “That crap on TV is e’zactly that. Crap. Ain’t nobody gonna stick a piece of hair under a microscope and suddenly say, ‘Bingo! She’s standin’ at the corner of Fourth and Broadway, go get ‘er.’ When it comes to this kinda crime, real police work is three parts paperwork, one part luck. Truth is, right now Devereaux is really just a suspect. Until we catch up to ‘er and compare the DNA and all that shit… Well, you got the idea.”
“It’s her. Believe me.”
“I do. We just gotta make sure the evidence supports it.”
“Okay, so what if nobody saw anything?”
“Then we hope she uses a credit card or somethin’, and we get a hit.”
“And if that doesn’t happen.”
“Awfully goddamned negative today, aren’t ya’?”
“I’m just worried.”
“Yeah… I can tell…”
“So? If she doesn’t use a credit card or something?”
“Okay, I’ll play. If she keeps ‘er head down, doesn’t use one of the credit cards we’re trackin’, nobody saw anything, and nobody calls with a decent tip, then we’re kinda fucked until she makes some other move.”
“Like coming after me or Felicity?”
“Or killin’ some other poor bastard, yeah, that’s pretty much about it.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Ben.”
“Hey, you were the one playin’ devil’s advocate, not me,” he replied as he turned the van onto Laclede and accelerated with the flow of traffic. “Who knows, maybe she’ll see the error of her ways and turn herself in.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s happened before.”
“I wouldn’t count on it this time.”
“Didn’t say I was countin’ on it,” he grunted. “Either way, look at the bright side. Ya’ played with your doll, and now the ghost bitch is leavin’ Felicity alone.”
“Yeah,” I answered with a tired sigh. “There is that.”
“Look, Row, it’s all gonna be good,” my friend offered. “We get you two outta sight so you’re safe, and Major Case’ll do the rest.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Jeez, mark it on the calendar,” he half chuckled. “The injun gets ta’ be right for a change.”
We rode along in relative silence for a few moments while I digested everything he had just said. I wasn’t overly excited about hiding out. I had no reason to believe that doing so this time would end as badly as it had the last, but it still didn’t do anything for my anxiety level. I suppose the old idiom, “once bitten, twice shy,” was a good description of how I felt about the idea.
Finally, out of idle curiosity, I turned to Ben and asked, “By the way, I’m sure I can probably guess, but what did Mike have to say when you two went in the back?”
