Ghostly Justice (Seven Deadly Sins, #2.5)(7)

Rafe took her hand. “Ready?”

She had no flip response that usually rolled off her tongue without thought. She simply nodded, and they entered the coffeehouse.

Detective Nelson was sitting in the corner with another man, this one who also sat like a cop, but was rougher around the edges than the detective—dark hair, sloppy dress, tall and skinny. He looked about as happy to be there as Moira.

They sat at the table. Moira turned her chair so she could see the room better, knowing the cops wouldn’t give up their ideal vantage point. “What’s the scoop?” she asked.

“Rafe Cooper and Moira O’Donnell,” Grant said by way of introduction. “This is Detective Carter Woods with the Narcotics Task Force. He has some information about an underground club that might be exactly what we’re looking for. But first I have some disturbing news.” He slid over a file. “When I was looking into Amy Carney’s files, I came across another missing girl that normally wouldn’t have caught my attention. She’s from San Luis Obispo, which is several hours up the coast from Carney. They have different backgrounds, different religions, Amy’s white, Beth is half-Japanese. Beth is still missing, Amy was found within twenty-four hours of her murder.”

“So what do they have in common?” Moira asked.

“The both attended the same camp last summer. I followed up with both sets of parents, and the girls were at the camp the same week. None of the parents remember either girl talking about the other. I’m having Jeff follow-up with the local PDs involved, see if they have the girl’s social media pages, emails, and access to the computers.”

“And she’s still missing?”

Grant nodded. “I asked the SLO police department to re-prioritize her file and send her photo to all law enforcement and morgues in Southern California.”

“What’s this summer camp?” Rafe asked.

“His World Nature Camp.”

“Doesn’t sound like a coincidence,” Carter said.

Moira agreed, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t know how much Grant had told the detective about her and Rafe. She asked Carter, “And this club you know about has something to do with the two girls?”

He shrugged. “When Nelson mentioned the killer taking the girl’s blood and biting the neck of his victim, I immediately thought of Defiance.”

“Her victim,” Grant corrected. “The bite mark was made by a woman.”

“There was more than one person who killed Amy,” Rafe said.

“We can assume that, but we only have proof of one killer.”

Carter said, “Defiance opened last summer, just outside of Westwood in a mixed-use area. It’s an after hours club, sunset to four a.m. Not technically legal, but there’s a loophole in the zoning code that because they’re in a grandfathered area of the county that wasn’t included in the county ordinances—I won’t bore you with the specifics, but there’re only a handful of these places operating.”

“Why Defiance?” Rafe asked.

“Because a bunch of freaks hang out there,” Carter said.

Moira smiled. She decided she liked Carter Woods. “Freaky how?”

“I’ve got nothing against Goth and Emo or whatever these people are into—to each his own, right? But these people are freaks. Wearing fangs so they look like Dracula. And they drink real blood.” He leaned forward and said in a low voice, “One of my informants said there are people who actually let them drink their blood. Voluntarily. Who does that shit?”

“Freaks,” Moira repeated with a half-smirk.

“Dangerous freaks,” Grant said. “Someone killed Amy Carney and drained half her blood. This club, Defiance, is our best lead at this point.”

“What do you know about the victim? Was she a voluntary donor?” Carter asked.

“No,” Rafe said.

Moira’s head snapped toward Rafe. How did he know Amy hadn’t voluntarily given the freaks her blood? But before she could ask him, Grant said, “Doubtful. There were no other signs of trauma, no other bite marks or needle marks. Other than bite on her neck and the large bore needle in her side. An employee at the Encino Reservoir found her the morning after she died.”

“How long between when she went missing and when she died?” Carter asked.

“Approximately twenty-four hours. She was killed on September twenty-third—”

Moira shot her head up. “The Autumn Equinox? Are you kidding me?”

Grant stared at her gravely. “Is there a significance to that date?”

“The four solstices are used in many Pagan rituals,” Rafe said. “Mostly harmless—”

Moira grunted.

“But in some black magic sects,” Rafe continued, “the day has added significance. Mostly as a symbol, and because magic has a lot to do with faith—”

Moira interrupted. “What is this, the politically correct version?” The three men stared at her. Her face heated but she stood her ground. She’d been ridiculed enough in her life she could take it. “This particular solstice there was also a full moon, and the Autumn Equinox is when the demon Baphomet is honored by Satanists. She’s also known as the Mother of Blood.”

Carter cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know anything about Satanic activity or solstices or this woman—”