Cast the Cards

She opened the card. The wry smile slid from her face. Her body tensed.

“What’s wrong?” What the hell was in that letter?

“It’s them.” The mild tremor in her voice terrified him. Clearly it took a lot to rattle this woman.

“Who?” It was a struggle to keep his voice even. What Clark said would happen is. They’ve brought the fight to us. The psychic ghost phenomena made him shiver.

“The killers.”

“What!” He stood and hurried around the desk to peer over her shoulder .

“I need gloves. Now.” The mutter was more to herself than him as he read the letter over her shoulder.

Dear Agent West,

Last we met you had the sweet bloom of first love all over you, and we knew then and there we had to have a little taste. But you got away. Split our perfect puzzle piece into two. We never forgot you. Imagine our surprise seeing you all grown up and hunting our brethren. It must’ve been destiny. We are slaves to fate in all things. It’s so freeing to cast the cards and follow your path to greatness.

Now is the time we choose to step from the shadows and claim the masterpieces we’ve created. It’s been a long, fun journey and soon it’ll be complete. Let’s play a game of who can find who first. We’ll be seeing you soon, Agent West. I assure you this time you won’t get away.

“Fuck! We need our people on this now.” After all this time they’d reached out to her! Alarm bells rang in his head. The letter’s words smacked of stalking. The thought of them watching her undetected for any amount of time made him want to go ape-shit. Too close and right on the heels of his brother’s magic re-appearing trick.

“No. I want to examine this thing from top to bottom before we get anyone in on it.” She set her jaw and stared him down.

“Vannah.” His protests died when he saw the determination on her face and the fire that burned bright in her eyes. He’d pry that envelope from her hands if he had to.

No, gaining control of the situation wouldn’t be worth the friction it’d cause. She knew what she was doing, and her finger prints were all ready on it, so technically the evidence was already tampered with.

“This is personal.” She turned to her bag, dug inside, and came out with a pair of gloves.

“You carry them around with you?” He snickered. The noise eased the tension rapidly gathering like a storm.

“This is my work bag.” The pop of latex made him grit his teeth. She worked the blue gloves onto her hand and carefully peeled back the layers of tissue. Rustles filled the air. Time slowed. He held his breath when the last piece was removed.

“A card?” he asked. Was this a prank?

“A Tarot Card.”

She straightened, dug in her bag once more, and produced a small, gray voice recorder. Bending over the card without further disturbing it, she pressed play.

“The suspects have sent me a Tarot Card, the Lovers. The interlocked male and female on the card have been personalized. He’s acquired pictures of his victims, Clark Carr and Savannah West, cut out their faces, and placed them on the male and female at the bottom of the card. The winged, angel-like creature with the body of a female and wings has had its face blacked out. Possibly, because it represents Clark, or because they hate love and females. At first glance I can’t tell if anything else has been altered. We’ll have to locate an original and compare. The removal of Clark’s heart makes sense now, because I got away. The note within the package tells me the Killers have been doing this a long time. I wouldn’t be surprised if their murders match the same amount of cards in the tarot deck.” She clicked pause.

.

He was impressed by her ability to compartmentalize. Despite the mental anguish she had to be going through, she remained professional. Her face was a mask of concentration and her eyes blazed with intensity and passion. I see why they call her Sheriff West. I wouldn’t want to be placed on the wrong end of her gun.

“We need to call my people and see how they’d like to proceed. I know this is your jurisdiction, but it was sent to me personally. I’m going to request they let me proceed from here.”

“Do you think they’ll agree?” Everything hinged on her answer.

“I can be persuasive.”

Okay that was kind of hot… in a scary, not-to-be-messed–with, woman kind of way.

“I get the feeling this isn’t going to be their last present. They’ll want to recreate that event, which means returning to Dale.”

“Why would they risk it?”

“Because it’s their last hurrah. Getting caught is irrelevant. Completing their masterpiece is what matters.”