Cast the Cards

“Vannah, that’s no way to live.” Gentler now that he understood, he softened his voice.

“Well, if we crack this, maybe I won’t have to.” She cleared her throat.” Enough with the heart-to-heart. Tell me what you know.”

He tossed back his shot, breathed through the trail of fire left in the whiskey’s wake, and began. “Not much more than you. Clark showed up this morning like he never left. I thought I was still drunk from the night before, at first. Then I sobered, and he remained. Once he moved something and I touched him, I couldn’t deny it. He mentioned you were in danger. I knew I was going to do what he said regardless, whether I was going stark-raving mad or not.” She opened her mouth to speak and he shook his head. “If the position was reversed and I needed help, would you come?”

“Yeah, I would. You can’t be best friends with someone for twenty-one years and forget them in ten. At least I can’t.”

“Exactly.” He grabbed a beer from the bucket, popped the top, and slid it across to her before he opened his own.

“What did Clark say?” The anxiety in her tone wasn’t lost on him.

“Not much. He said the kidnappers were back and there was a lot we didn’t know. I guess it’ll be coming to light soon.” Trailing a finger through the condensation on the bottle, he watched the water separate to avoid the inquiring gaze looking for answers he couldn’t provide.

“Did he say how or when?” Impatience sharpened her words.

He lifted the brown bottle, took a long draw, and shook his head. “He said they’d come to us.”

“Oh my God, they want to finish what they started.” Her eyes widened. He could see the wheels in her head spin.

“How can you know that?” he asked, unable to follow the path she’d taken to get there.

“I’m taking an educated guess. It’s the only reason they’d have for coming back now—to tie loose ends. Perhaps this will allow them to complete their ritual.”

“Ritual?” How could she get all of this from a letter and a tarot card?

“Serial killers have a variety of reasons why they kill. Some are opportunistic, where there’s a driving force but no real game plan. Others have more specific requirements. They’re re-enacting some trauma that happened in their life , or an ideal they wish to leave by. It may not make sense to us, because to them it’s very real. Their way of righting a wrong or giving meaning to their life. .” Her tone was matter-of-fact as she spoke with an intensity that showed how much she enjoyed her job. Their conversation seemed out of place here among the popular music playing over the speakers and the trivial conversation taking place around them. College students filled the surrounding tables, drinking, chatting, and blowing off steam.

His gaze scanned the room and it hit him. They were the only somber couple here. A song with a hard-hitting bass came on and the couple beside them walked over to the tiny area designated as a dance floor. The lithe woman with cocoa skin pressed her round ass into her partner as he wrapped his arms around her waist and they moved as one to the beat.

Carey envied them. His cock stirred and he forced his mind back to the topic at hand. “You think this is one of those re-enacting cases?” he asked.

“Maybe.” A thoughtful expression settled over her face. “I’ll never forget that freakish clown outfit… now I wonder if it tied in to the ritual. I know they didn’t travel with the carnival—the police hit a dead end with that. Perhaps the kidnappers scout out the carnivals. See where they’ll be moving to and follow, ride their tailcoats.” She placed her tongue in her cheek.

Releasing a sigh, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“There are all just theories, nothing concrete, but it’s a start.”

He was impressed. It was easy to see why she was good at what she did.

“How would you try to make a connection between what happened and other cases?”

“First I’d need to get my hands on our case file, and then I’d search using people taken from carnivals or circus acts. Perhaps it has something to do with that.” Her body twitched. “I knew clowns were creepy, but I never knew they killed outside of the movies.”

He couldn’t say he’d watched IT lately. “I can get you the case files.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

Now she cares. “Being next in line for sheriff in a small town does have some perks, city slicker.”

She smirked. “We don’t have to play the whose-is-bigger game, Carey. I don’t even have a penis.” No, but I bet your pussy is delicious.

“Which is a good thing, considering metaphorically speaking, you trump me being F.B.I. and all.”

“You know I don’t see it like that. We’re all law enforcement agents looking to keep the peace and gain victims justice.”

“If that’s true, why go for the F.B.I.?”

“Because I had my heart set on criminal profiling. I knew going through the Bureau and putting in my time was the best way to go.”