Scarlet Angel (Mindf*ck #3)(36)

“How long have you lived here or worked for the sheriff?”

“Been here six months, and been on the force for three weeks.”

I look at Donny, who narrows his eyes. “He puts us with his newest officer. Coincidence? I think not.”

“Likely his most innocent one, judging by the overwhelming stench of corruption everyone else was giving off. Where’s Leonard?”

Leonard walks around like he just heard his name, eyeing us. He joins us immediately as Elise resumes her role, distracting the deputy. But I interrupt.

“Why is the sheriff holding a town meeting if he’s hiding the fact a serial killer is targeting the town?”

“Oh, because we had some weird stuff happen last night. A lot of random doors were found open this morning to houses—at least fifty or so. Some mirrors were found missing, but that’s about it. Weird, huh?” he asks, but doesn’t give us time to respond. “The sheriff is holding a meeting to find out who did it.”

That makes no sense at all.

“It’s way worse now than it was,” Leonard tells us quietly. “The sheriff put on a show when we came to town. He’s been hiding a lot. And now he feels in control for some reason, acting as though he can also control us.”

“Because of the Godfather,” Donny states, reading my mind.

I turn back, interrupting Elise and the deputy again. “We’re going to go make those rounds now,” I tell him, timing it perfectly with Craig’s emergence from the cabin.

He’s holding a large stack of flyers, and Howser’s eyes widen in fear

“But the sheriff said—”

“When the sheriff is my boss, I’ll listen to him. But he has no authority over us or this investigation. At this point, his inclusion is merely a courtesy from my people. We outrank him. Do you understand?”

He doesn’t understand. I can tell it in his pitifully torn look.

Instead of explaining, Craig and I walk off, and Elise hobbles to the cabin to set up shop. Donny and Leonard take half the flyers, and they set off as well.

“When is Lana coming in?” Craig asks as we ignore Howser calling for us to ‘please stop walking.’

“In two days, at most. Possibly sooner. She didn’t want Hadley to have to ride alone. Lisa should be here any minute.”

“Hadley’s seal of approval? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“It’s surprisingly abrupt, but they seem to have bonded after what they both suffered.”

“Nothing forges a quicker bond than a sexual sadist nearly killing you both, then escaping on a stroke of luck.”

My stomach tilts, and I glare at him.

“Too soon?”

Muttering a few names for him under my breath, I snatch the staple gun from his hand and post the flyer on a pole.

We spot a woman coming out of the grocery store, tugging her child’s hand, and I tilt my head as several others start running out, getting out quickly. A few are even panicked as they race away.

Craig and I both dart across the street, hands on guns, when I see the wall in the back.

The water will run red. Just like your sins. The truth won’t be painted over anymore.

What the fuck?

It’s painted in large letters on the back wall, and the guy behind the counter is calling it in.

“What happened?” I ask, moving toward him.

“I don’t know. It just suddenly appeared. Like, it wasn’t there, and then it was. Everyone saw it!” he shouts.

The fuck?

The words are dry, and I go to take a sample, pulling out an evidence bag to scrape some flakes in. I fucking need Hadley here already.

Whispers of spirits hiss around us from the few who are brave enough to stick around.

“It’s dry but just appeared? Know any type of paint that does that?”

“I’m sure there’s something out there, or something someone smart enough could make,” I tell him, watching the people panic over some words. “It’s him.”

“What? He came to paint magically appearing words?” Craig asks incredulously.

“We profiled this town as religious, but with a cult mentality. Look around. They’re all terrified over something this small. In DC, this would have people snapping pictures and rolling their eyes—and that’s if they even noticed it to begin with. But here? It’s already terrifying them.”

He appraises the situation, processing the same thing I am, even though he’s not a profiler.

“He’s fucking with their heads.”

“His endgame isn’t just murder. He wants to terrorize the town,” I say, only elaborating on his theory.

He follows me out, and I head down the street, looking around for anyone who stands out. But I see no one. Until this paint is analyzed, we won’t know how he pulled that off.

We pause, talking to people, watching fear wash over their faces when we tell them about the serial killer the sheriff never warned them about. Most everyone hurries by us, not wanting to hear something like that exists.

One man clutches his heart. “It’s true then,” he whispers. “There’s a dark spirit among us?”

Craig’s eyebrows go up.

“No. There’s a flesh and blood person who wants revenge for something that happened ten years ago to Victoria and Marcus Evans.”