Rituals (Cainsville 5)
"Yes, we need to know that," Gabriel said. "We also need to know what the sluagh meant when they said Olivia was theirs. The implication is that there is a mark. I looked for it on Olivia and--" He stopped short. "That is to say, I looked as best I could, on her arms and such, and I did not see it."
"Do you know what it looks like?" Ricky asked Veronica.
"I do."
"Can you check Liv?"
"Of course."
--
"You aren't marked," Veronica said as she finished her examination in my bedroom and I began redressing. "If I sound less relieved about that than you'd expect, it's only because the sluagh wouldn't dare take a Matilda."
"So they're bluffing?"
"No," Gabriel said from outside the closed door. "They simply don't mean it in that way."
"You can stop hovering and come in, Gabriel," Veronica called. "She's dressed. Though even if she wasn't, I don't think it's anything you haven't already seen."
I looked over at her sharply. She chuckled. "It's rather hard to miss the signs."
"Great," I muttered.
"The other elders aren't as astute at reading those signs. You can buy yourself some time yet. I won't spoil it." She turned to Gabriel as he walked in. "Yes, you're correct. If they said they have some hold over Liv, it means something other than the obvious."
"I'd say that's a relief," I said. "But I suspect whatever they do mean, I'm not going to like it a whole lot more."
"We will resolve this," Veronica said. "We owe you that."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The elders were letting us leave town, on the understanding we'd return at night. The next step was to speak to Ioan about the sluagh. I now suspected the local Cwn Annwn had more dealings with them than Ioan was letting on. And I suspected one of those "dealings" might be a bargain made twenty-three years ago, to see human killers punished and a broken Matilda healed.
Ricky was about to make that call when Gabriel got one from the state police contact I'd set on Greg Kirkman's trail. While Gabriel talked and jotted down dates and names, I typed them into a search engine.
"Greg Kirkman was being investigated for murder," I said when he hung up. "Multiple murders."
Ricky skimmed the articles on my screen. "He was a serial killer."
Gabriel cleared his throat.
"Sorry, counselor," Ricky said. "Kirkman was an alleged serial killer. Three missing teenage girls disappeared along rural roads. Two were discovered in shallow graves, raped and strangled. The third wasn't found, presumably because the killer learned to hide his victims better. Classic serial predator. And Kirkman fits the classic profile--the quiet white guy who lives alone. The last girl disappeared a month before he did. There were no more after that. Which suggests he was more than a suspect."
Gabriel conceded the point. "The police believed Kirkman was responsible and that he committed suicide somewhere in the forest, perhaps having gone for drinks to prepare himself. They continued to investigate the murders but found no other suspects. They did eventually locate and identify the third victim--her body was found buried a few miles from his home."
"Which was near Cainsville," Ricky said.
"That's not the only local connection." I enlarged another article. "The second victim disappeared during a summer visit to extended family, who lived..."
"Here," Ricky murmured as he read. "In Cainsville."
--
Ricky borrowed my car to take Lloergan to the Saints' clubhouse. He had work there, and our new "next step" wasn't something he could help with.
There were three people we could confront about Greg Kirkman. Four, if you included Seanna, but we had no idea where to find her. The question was which to choose. Which wasn't really a question at all.
An hour later, I was back where I'd first been stalled. And where I'd first known I was being thwarted but had gotten too caught up in the sluagh business to pursue it.