THIRTY-TWO
When Moira saw the flashing red and blue lights in her rearview mirror, she almost floored the accelerator. She hesitated just a moment too long with her decision, because the police cruiser flashed its brights and flipped the siren on and off twice in a piercing
Moira looked at the roof of the truck. “You
She kept her hands on the steering wheel and stared in the side mirror as the deputy got out. Hank Santos.
“This is getting better and better.” She should have floored it. She’d had a chance.
More likely she would have gone off the road and killed herself. But instead of bliss in death, she’d probably be dragged down to the pit and be summoned by her mother so Fiona could torture her lost soul for the next decade. Fun.
She rolled down the window. She hoped she could talk her way out of this, because not only did she have a knife on her, she also had a gun on her. She couldn’t kill a cop, nor could she go back to jail.
Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Deputy Santos, right?” she smiled.
“Step out of the truck, please.”
“Sir, Jared loaned me his truck. I wasn’t speeding.” She honestly didn’t know whether she’d been speeding but thought it sounded good.
“I asked you to step out, Ms. O’Donnell.”
“Why did you pull me over?”
“If you don’t step out of the vehicle, I will forcibly remove you. Please step out.”
Moira slid out of the truck, feeling the same odd sensation she’d had when Santos came to her motel yesterday morning. She concentrated with all her senses, but he wasn’t possessed or under a spell. Still … something about him was off. She said, “You’re mad about yesterday morning. I tried to-”
“Keep your mouth shut, Ms. O’Donnell. You’ve manipulated my son, but this truck isn’t his to do with what he pleases. It’s mine. My name is on the registration, and I did not give you permission to drive it.”
“Fine. It’s yours. I’ll walk.”
“Your license, please.”
She bit her lip and pulled out her wallet. She showed him her driving permit from Sicily.
He glanced at it. “I need your international driving permit.”
“I don’t have one.” She’d been in and out of the United States for the last seven years, and getting an IDP was the last thing on her mind.
“This license is expired as well,” he said.
She wasn’t surprised. She’d had it for years. Other than her passport, renewing government documents wasn’t high on her list of priorities.
“I said I’d walk.”
“You’ve already broken several laws, Ms. O’Donnell. I’m going to ask you to come down to the station while we sort this out.”
“Deputy Santos, please, I really can’t.” She doubted begging would get her out of this mess, but she’d try anything at this point.
His face darkened. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but ever since you came to town you have been a thorn in my side.”
“What? I haven’t done anything to you.”
“You are coming between me and my son. He never lied to me before now. He ditched school today. I don’t know where he is, but I’ll bet you do.”
“I don’t.” What on earth was Jared up to? Moira
“I need to search you.”
“No. Do not touch me.” She was beginning to panic. She didn’t want to hurt Hank Santos, but she couldn’t go to jail. “Call Sheriff McPherson.”
“Turn around and put your hands on the car.”
A car pulled up behind Santos’s cruiser. Another cop. Great. Now she was going to be manhandled, searched, and they’d find her weapons, haul her to prison, and …
Skye McPherson got out and strode over. Moira sighed in relief.
“Hank,” Skye said. “I’ll take care of this.”
“With all due respect, Sheriff, I don’t believe you are impartial in this matter.”
“Why did you pull Ms. O’Donnell over?”
“She’s driving a stolen vehicle.”
“Hank, you know Jared loaned her the truck. He told me yesterday afternoon that he had.”
“He didn’t have my permission.”
“Bring it up with your son. If Ms. O’Donnell wasn’t breaking any laws while driving, you’ll need to let her go.”
“She’s driving without a valid license.”
Skye asked Moira, “Is that true?”
“I don’t have an IDP.”
“I can’t let you get back in the truck.”
“I’m arresting her,” Hank said.
“For driving without a license?”
“I have the right.” He rubbed his head as if he were in pain.
“Hank, can I have a word?”
They walked back to Hank’s cruiser. Moira breathed easier and tried to pinpoint what it was that disturbed her about Hank-other than his being an asshole.
Whatever Skye said to him, it had to have been good. Five minutes later, Jared’s father drove away.
Skye came over and said, “You have to leave the truck. Get your stuff.”
Moira grabbed her bag from the backseat. “Thank you.”
“I saw him follow you out of the school parking lot. I’d called him when I learned Jared ditched school. But I have a more immediate concern.”
“What?”
“I saw something on his neck.”
“I saw it yesterday. A birthmark. But-”
“I’ve known Hank for years. He never had it before. And I have four dead bodies with so-called birthmarks that they didn’t used to have. I’m worried about him now, I don’t even know if I should have let him go, but what am I supposed to do? Arrest him? Ask him to remove his shirt so I can compare his mark to the dead?” Skye shook her head, motioning for Moira to get in the passenger’s side of her cruiser.
“If it’s the same mark that Anthony showed me this morning,” Moira said, “I’ll tell you what I told Anthony. It’s the mark of a demonic baptism, but the fact that these marks are showing up spontaneously makes no sense. They usually come during the ritual baptism itself. Could Hank have been on the cliffs the other night? Is he part of the coven?”
“No,” Skye said.
“Can you be sure?”
“I suppose I can’t be, but I know that the other victims with this same mark were not at the cliffs-except for Abby. And her mark is substantially different, though it’s the same basic shape. All the victims were affiliated with the high school in some way. A secretary. A student. A librarian. And a murderer who lived next door to a teacher. It has to be related to the high school. I just spoke to one of the teachers and even she rubbed me the wrong way-I don’t know why. But Nicole Donovan-”
