Carnal Sin

Grant Nelson shook his head. “I don’t want to get into this here. I came for the autopsy.”

“I’d like to observe,” Skye said.

Nelson just shook his head. “Are you going to share your cases with me?”

She hesitated. “Mine are a bit complicated.”

“Right. I share, you don’t. Look, Sheriff McPherson, Santa Louisa is a county of what? Thirty thousand? My division, one of twenty-one in the city, has over ten times that number. I’m dealing with multiple jurisdictions and there’s nothing to connect these victims. I just got another case dumped on me because of the possible connection, so if you can give me something that helps then I’m all ears. Otherwise, I don’t have time to play show-and-tell.”

“You’re lying,” Moira said.

“O’Donnell!” Skye snapped.

Moira shook her head. “He said that there’s nothing to connect these victims, but there is.”

“We don’t know that,” Nelson said.

“You think you know.”

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’re not going to walk into the middle of my investigation and tell me what I know and don’t know.”

Skye straightened. “Can we take this outside? I’ll tell you everything I have, and maybe we can help each other.”

Moira couldn’t imagine that Skye was going to tell this cop the truth, but she didn’t say anything. These two dead guys were connected somehow to one of the demons-or one of Fiona’s witches. Had Fiona relocated here in Los Angeles? Definitely possible, it was a big place. Easy to blend in. Of the twelve who had been at the ritual two weeks ago, one was dead and two were in prison. One was walking freely around Santa Louisa because Skye had no cause to put Dr. Richard Bertram in prison-which angered Moira to no end. The guy was guilty of being a witch, of being party to summoning the Seven Deadly Sins from Hell, but there were no laws against these crimes. And try proving any of it in court! Skye was trying to get Bertram on something else-such as drugging Rafe into a coma-but they still had no proof of that. Rafe’s medical records were missing or had been destroyed.

Nelson agreed. “Five minutes, you first.” He glanced at Moira. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Moira O’Donnell.” He stared at her, looking her up and down, trying to intimidate her with his unblinking gaze. She straightened her spine and stared right back at him. She’d faced down an incarnate demon; no way some arrogant cop was going to bully her.

He said, “You’re not a cop.”

“Nope.”

Skye said, “She’s a consultant. An expert on cults.”

Moira barely restrained her surprise at Skye’s easy and blatant lie.

“Cults?” Johnston asked. “You think this is some sort of cult killing?”

“Outside,” Skye said.

“I’m going to prep the body,” Fern said. “Thirty minutes and we’ll begin in the main room.”

Skye had piqued the interest of the two detectives. They led the way out, and Moira whispered, “Cult?”

“I’d sure as hell call Fiona’s coven a cult, wouldn’t you?”

She had a point. Moira bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

Skye said, “Don’t get cocky, we’re not out of the woods yet. Nelson doesn’t want to share, and I can’t tell him the truth, so we’re going to have to play this carefully.” She slowed and said softly, “Did you feel anything from the corpses?”

“They’re dead.”

“But-”

“Magic? No. They’re dead. Any spell on them would have ended as soon as they croaked. But they definitely did have some contact with one of Fiona’s coven. Or-”

“Or what?”

“A demon, up close and personal. And in a city this big, I don’t know how we’re going to track the coven or a demon. I know one thing, though-I need to go to that club, Velocity.”

“Not alone.”

“Skye, I hate to tell you, but you’re a cop. You look like a cop, act like a cop. I can blend in. I’ll get a cab, meet up with you in a couple hours. And honestly, I don’t want to watch those bodies being sliced and diced. Being in that room alone freaked me out.”

“I didn’t think anything freaked you out.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You and Rafe go, take my truck. Rod has the van, so I won’t be stranded.” She glanced at Moira. “Why did you call the detective a liar? That’s really fucking with my position. I want him to play nice; calling him on the carpet isn’t helping.”

“He knows there’s a connection.” She frowned. She wasn’t psychic; how did she know that? Rafe said she was an empath, and while she hadn’t wanted to believe it, it made sense based on various times when she sensed facts about people after meeting them. Detective Nelson had entered the room and Moira simply knew that he thought that the dead were connected. She couldn’t read his mind, it was more his emotional state; he felt the connection deep down.

Skye said to Grant as soon as they left the crypt, “We had four victims with similar marks on their bodies. Our coroner is working on how the marks were made; he’s thinking some sort of laser.”

Skye was lying through her teeth, but it sounded good. Moira was impressed.

“A laser?” Nelson asked, skeptical.

“I’m not a doctor, but my M.E. thinks a laser on a low setting or possibly ultraviolet radiation could cause those type of markings.”

Nelson said, “Possibly? So if this is a cult, are these victims members or innocent?”

“I’m not sure.”

“There’s nothing that connects the victims-nothing. Other than they are males and were involved in a sexual situation immediately prior to death.”

“They were having sex when they died?”

“Inconclusive at this point. Monroe had ejaculated minutes prior to his death. I’ll find out about Erickson during the autopsy.”

“Were there any vaginal fluids or cells on their persons?”

“Galion was about to commit felony rape when he was apprehended, but hadn’t penetrated. We have witnesses to his assault. Monroe had his pants down when he was found, and while there was no vaginal evidence, the coroner found female saliva on his penis. They’re processing it for DNA now, but that takes time. The last one, Erickson, is who we’re viewing today.”

“Anything else?”

He didn’t say anything.

Skye asked, “Did they have anything else in common? Where they ate, worked, lived, played?”

“That’s it,” Moira said, watching the detective closely.

Nelson avoided Moira’s eyes and said through clenched teeth, “All three vics have a connection to Velocity, a popular nightclub. Monroe was found dead in the alley, and Erickson had been to the club earlier the night he died.”

“Where was he found?”

“In his bedroom by his wife. The room was set up for a romantic scene, but his wife was out for the night.”

“He was having an affair.”

“They were swingers. The wife was with her ex-husband in his hotel room; he confirmed it, as did the manager and security footage.”

“And did-”

Nelson cut her off. “This is my case, Sheriff.”

“I’m not taking your case. I’m just trying to help-”

“Stay out of it.”