She laughed and pulled him back to her, urging him into adeep, long kiss that escalated with his movements inside her. Thrust andparry…the fireworks coming ever closer.
After, they lay together, his arms around her. She knew histhoughts had gone back to the matter at hand.
They had both learned that while the job might rule theirworld most days, there were also times that, no matter how dire, they had to betogether. They took the moments they stole to remember the beauty of life whenset against all they had witnessed.
But now…
“We know there’s something going on. I can’t get over beingin the catacombs…or mausoleum—whatever one officially calls the places wevisited—because it showed how clearly there can be confined spaces in the groundand above the ground.”
“Elizabeth said the earth was moaning,” Cheyenne said. “Ithink it’s obvious. The killer is taking his victims underground somewhere.Elizabeth said it came from the high point of the lane. There could be dozensof subterranean tunnels. I mean, I read online that there is a tunnel thatconnects the cemetery’s east and west sides.”
“You think the person is killing his victims in thecemetery?” Andre asked thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s possible. Despite walls andgates and the determination against vandalism and so on that began in themid-seventies, people who want in will find a way. But I don’t think our killerwould be so obvious. Highgate is convenient. The story about the Vampire ofHighgate is convenient, too. I believe you’re right. But I don’t think we’llget much support if we start digging up the streets.”
“The killer didn’t just dig up the streets,” she said.
“No. But with this topography, all manner of things couldhave been constructed at any time throughout the hundreds of years of history.There might have been natural caverns, covered over now. Time does a number onthings.”
“Ah. Suggests a historian?” Cheyenne murmured.
“We need to meet the rest of these characters tomorrow. Andguess who else we need to meet?”
“Who?”
“Birmingham.”
“Why? He wants nothing to do with us.”
“Yes, and that bothers me. He’s very cold and dismissive.”
“Some people are like that. We all know most cops and agentsare certainly decent when working together, and there aren’t nearly as manyjurisdictional creeps as some people think, but we are Americans. In Britain.”
“Right. Still.”
“Yes?”
“He’s a jerk.”
Cheyenne laughed and rose against him, straddling him.
“Ah, sir, you have a wicked tongue!”
“I speak only truth.”
“I wasn’t referring to speech,” she told him solemnly. “And,in truth, I am quite fond of your very, very wicked tongue.”
His dark eyes narrowed upon her with laughter, and he teasedher with a Scottish brogue. “Ah, lass! I’ll show you a wicked tongue, I will!”
“Promises, promises!” she giggled, but then they werekissing again and then escalating and making love and…
He did prove he had a deliciously and wondrously wickedtongue.
Chapter 6
“You have information on all of them?” Andre asked. He’dstepped outside when his phone rang. It was early morning here, so he knew itwas late in D.C. for Angela.
“Quite a bit, actually. I’ll email it all and start with thebanker, Mark Bower,” she said.
“Still waters running deep?”
“Maybe. He goes to work every day and, in the past, has hada tendency to date women much like him—serious nine-to-fivers. But we’ve alsodiscovered several pictures of him that came out recently on social media. Inthem, he’s attending a club that sounds like it’s a bit on the wild side. A stripclub. He enjoys a lot of, shall we say, expensive femalecompanionship. That does make him interesting, though it is a leap to go fromstrip clubs and prostitutes to draining the blood out of murder victims.”
“Agreed. What else?”
“No arrest record, not even parking tickets. Until recently,he’s been a Boy Scout.”
“Okay. Benjamin Turner?”
“I need more hours than you and I have together. He startedhis own media channel about five years ago. Since then, he’s been everywhere.He does have a penchant for bringing the weird to life. He’s done the necessarybit on Jack the Ripper, a segment on H.H. Holmes, Madam Bathory, Vlad theImpaler, the Yorkshire Ripper, Burke and Hare…and so on. Naturally, he’s doneHighgate. Check out the video yourself. He was born in north London, a fewmiles from where he lives today. He definitely has a penchant for creepy peopleand things, but so do many, many others. He’s handsome and charismatic.”
“I’m thinking our killer is handsome and charismatic. He’sluring his victims somehow,” Andre said.
“Yes, well, then I have the last name on your list. And Ialso checked out the other fellow you mentioned, William Smith, Father Faith.”
“And?”
“Clark Brighton. Claims he’s a bishop in the Church of theShining Spiritualists, but I checked data sources from just about everywhere.”
“And there is no Church of the Shining Spiritualists.”
“Right. But he seems to be benign, spouting cheer andoptimism, seeking wisdom from rainbows, that kind of thing. And he does have afollowing. Seems he may not have a church himself, but he knows a lot aboutSatanism and is continually damning them. Oh! And have you seen him?”
“Not yet.”
“You’d be expecting a wizened, creepy little man. Maybe. Iwas. But, no. He looks like a California beach boy. Tall, blond, middle-aged,good-looking. He finds happiness rowing and at the gym.”
“Strong?”
“I would imagine. But none of your guys is too small tosubdue a woman. Not that you need size. He’s probably luring them and knockingthem out or doing something to make them more pliable. I have the medicalexaminer’s reports on the women who were killed, and there is nothing in theirtoxicology. All of them had alcohol in their systems, but none to the point ofdrunkenness. They would have been aware—unless they were made somehow unaware.Some substances aren’t tested for in general autopsies, or if the cause ofdeath is evident—such as having the blood drained from the body. So, it’s unlikelya medical examiner would have searched for them. Remember, many things arepossible, but most government facilities tend to
