Dance For The Devil (17 page)

She started to cry. “Don’t fret,” Gil soothed. “That’s over now. I’ll save you, give you a new home. Just like I’ve done for other girls. You’ll like being with me, Amy, you’ll be safe.”

He stroked her cheek. “Your decision, Amy. Go to Africa as a white-trash-slave or come with me? I won’t force you.”

“Go with you,” she sobbed. “I want to go with you.”

“Then we better go, quickly, before they find us. Can you walk? Thatta girl, you’re doing fine. Follow me, right this way.”

**

Detective Birney was direct. “We believe the fire was deliberate. We found empty kerosene cans a half block away, and combined with the other unfortunate incidents occurring lately, we believe you may be targeted by either an individual or an organization. Can you come down to the station?”

Jake’s hand squeezed tightly on the phone. “Do you have any information about Amy?”

“Possibly. How soon can you be here?”

“
I’ll come immediately.”

“I don’t mean to alarm you, Mr. Montclaire, but please be careful. If our suspicions prove correct, you could be in danger.”

Jake blinked. “Danger? Can you elaborate?”

“We’
ll talk in person.”

“I
’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

He made it in fifteen. The detective was waiting. “I’ll take you to Sergeant Carmichael. As I said before, he’s our cult expert and he’ll be handling your case.”

“So you do think it’s a cult?”

“Not for me to say. However,
Carmichael is intrigued with the inverted pentagram cut into your daughter’s arm. It might indicate a Satanic link.”

“Or normal teenage rebellion.”

“Mr. Montclaire, normal teenagers don’t slice Satanic symbols into their skin.” Upon seeing Jake’s anguished expression, his tone softened. “Or it could be nothing. You’ll be in good hands with Sergeant Carmichael.”

Five minutes later, Jake agreed. Benny Carmichael, with his weathered complexion and moderate Scottish-burr immediately inspired confidence. The man was solid, from his ham-fisted handshake to the observant glint in his eye.

“I want my daughter back and I don’t care what it takes.”

“Easy, young fella,” the sergeant countered. “We
don’t know for sure she’s been kidnapped.”

“She’s been gone three days and you guys haven’t done jack-squat.”

Carmichael laced his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair. “Got a ransom note yet?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know she’s been abducted? You’re divorced, right? Perhaps she took off to see your ex. Or, maybe she’s pissed at you and is shacking up with friends. From what I understand, you two have a rocky relationship, correct?”

Jake pressed his fingertips to his forehead, immensely frustrated. “She’s been kidnapped. I don’t have proof, but I know it. I
feel
it.”

Carmichael regarded him for a moment. “Tell me y
our story, from the beginning.”

“I’ve already told it to a half-dozen different officers. Don’t you have it in your report?”

“Yeah, I have it. I just want to hear it from you.”

Jake sighed, then reiterated
the entire story, leaving nothing out. He finished by telling about Cari Valentine, and the generosity she’d shown him and Skeeter.

“A witch, hmmm? That part of the story I didn’t know. How does she fit in?”

“She doesn’t, actually. Accidental meeting.”

“There are no accidents.”

“That’s what Cari says. So, what do you think? Was my daughter kidnapped?”

“My best hunch? Yes.”

Jake breathed deeply. It was a relief to have someone acknowledge his fears, to treat them seriously.

Carmichael regarded him
. “Let me get this straight: your wife leaves, daughter disappears, house burns down killing your housekeeper, plus your insurance is cancelled without your knowledge. Suspicious activities occur at your jobsite and the boss has bogus proof of your guilt and terminates you from a job he begged you to take. For fun, he threatens you with criminal charges. Now you find yourself living with a witch you hardly know.”

“It’s been a hell of a year,” Jake agreed.

“Understated fellow, aren’t you? It’s been a bloody disastrous year.”

“But are these incidents linked to a Satanic cult?”

“By themselves, no. All we have to suggest that is the razored pentagram and your daughter’s bizarre behavior, which could be completely coincidental. However, it is true that teens are often targets; they are moody, susceptible to cult coercion. And, if we take into consideration other recent events, such as the deaths of Elise Keeler and Alex Kreschenski, it seems possible. I’ve dug up some old information you might find interesting.”

“Wait – go back.
Alex is dead?”

“You hadn’t heard? His body was found this morning, off the south coast, still strapped into his car. It was a stroke of luck to find him – an anonymous tip, otherwise we’d never have dredged the bay.” He flicked some photographs on the desk. “Take a look at these.”

“Jesus.” Jake paled. “That poor kid. Christ, who could do that to him?”

“The fish, mostly. They’ll nibble a human corpse pretty quickly
. They go for the eyeballs first.”

Jake put his hand to his mouth and shut his eye
s. “Excuse me... I feel a bit sick.”

“Good. That was the reaction I was hoping for.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Helps rule
you out as a suspect.”

“What?!”

“To me, everyone’s a suspect. If you hadn’t reacted to these photos I’d be concerned. Put your head between your knees if you’re gonna puke. I hate it when people puke in my office. Stinks for ages.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Now look at the pictures again. See anything unusual?”

“No...
Wait a minute. No.” Jake shook his head.

“Go on, what did you see?”

“I thought his skin’s too white, but I suppose that’s the way a corpse is supposed to look, especially one that’s been in the water. How long was he there for?”

“Undetermined. Coroner’s report will pinpoint time of death. You’re on the right track, though. The body does look funny, but unless you’ve been around a lot of bodies, you might not notice. It’s been blood-let.”

“What?”

“Blood-let. Bled dry. Someone removed a great deal of blood from this kid, and maybe an organ or two. That suggests cult activity. Satanic activity.”

“But,” Jake began, shuffling through the photos, “perhaps he was injured in the accident and bled to death, and the water washed it away. Perhaps the fish ate his innards.”

“Fish aren’t that selective. They don’t leave stitches and they don’t leave calling cards.”

Jake shook his head quizzically, and Benny pointed. “See? Look closely. Look at his left butt cheek.”

Jake looked, squinting. “I can’t make it out.”

“I wasn’t sure myself, so I went to the morgue and took a look at the kid. It’s a pentagram, upside down.”

“Jesus.” He thought of Amy’s arm. “Carved?”

“No, punctures, probably from a syringe. My guess is the killer pumped drugs into his ass.”

Jake looked bewildered. “But why? Surely there’s better ways of getting into the bloodstream?”

“Ceremony. The kid was probably drugged, tortured and sexually abused before execution. His blood would be saved for a ritual, drunken. The organs removed and eaten – steady, boy. You aren’t going to puke, are you?”

Jake swallowed. “No.”

Benny gathered the photographs and slipped them into a folder. “There is something else. Your boss, Vandercamp – name twigged a bell. Kept bugging me, couldn’t get it out of my head. So I dug through my old files and came up with a small item, dated sixteen years ago. It involves his son.”

“Jason? He would have been an infant sixteen years ago.”

“Yes. He was adopted, privately. Shortly after the adoption, during the grace period before the adoption became final, an expose about cult activity appeared in the local newspaper. It was very sensationalized, caused quite a stir. People began to lock their doors for the first time. No allegations were made, but a photo appeared of Gil and his wife... Suzanne. The Vandercamps were holding an animal corpse, a cat, I believe. It was an old photo, with no names, but the faces were exceptionally clear, and Gil Vandercamp’s expression was frightening. He looked, well, possessed. Someone at the lawyer’s office saw it and balked, and tried to halt the adoption. Vandercamp took the issue to court and won. He kept the infant.”

Jake sucked in his breath. “But how?”

“Vandercamp claimed the photo was taken at a costume party and the animal corpse was fake, a prop. He’s kept a low profile ever since. Actually, I’m not surprised to see how successful he’s become.”

“What do you mean?”

“People involved in cults, Satanic or otherwise, are frequently dynamic, charismatic individuals, often leaders in their fields. Aggressive, enigmatic and ruthless, qualities we admire in corporate America. They’re used to being idolized, they begin to believe they’re different from everyone else. Better than ordinary people, omnipotent. And why not? Everywhere they go, they’re adored, treated like celebrities, like Gods. For all intents and purposes, they
are
Gods.

“They also continue to seek thrills. They’ve worked hard to master their
profession and they’re addicted to the adrenalin rush. Challenges are like drugs and they need increasingly outlandish successes to feed their habit. Sex fills this need, so does violence. Cults offer both, and if they succeed at this, they can sometimes amass huge followings. Minions who constantly do their bidding and reinforce their beliefs.”

“Why don’t you stop them?”

“We try, but the cults are too diverse, too organized. Satanism is the fastest growing underground criminal movement in the world today –
in the world
.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in. “And we’re sitting on a nice little hotbed of activity right here.”

“You k
now who the principal members are?”

“We have suspicions but no proof. If they’re very good, we don’t even have suspicions. The leaders are too well protected. It goes like this: a meeting is planned, perhaps in the wilderness. Sentries are posted. By the time the cops show up, all they find is a bunch of people toasting marshmallows around a campfire. Same thing at a private residence or warehouse. When we get there, their activities are legitimate. These are not stupid people we’re dealing with, they’re
organized. And they have huge resources, hundreds of people willing to help them.”

J
ake’s mouth went dry. “Hundreds?”

“For
every cultist, there are dozens of peripheral members committed to protecting them. With their lives if need be.”

“That’s mind boggling. Can’t they be charge
d with something?”

“Like what? Roasting marshmallows? Havin
g a private party? There is rarely proof.”

“But surely missing pets, and...
” he thought of Amy, “missing children?”

“They may be involved but unless we catch them we have no recourse. There are hundreds of missing children reported in North America annually. Have some of these children ended up at the hands of t
hese sadists? Unquestionably – yes. How many? Who knows? Maybe some kid was chasing his ball and fell down the neighbor’s well. Or, maybe someone tortured and mutilated him and tossed him down. Either way, the kid is down a two-hundred-foot well and no one ever finds him. Without the body, we can’t determine cause of death, and not too many bodies show up. Satanic cults are exceedingly creative about disposing bodies – often the remains are consumed by an unsuspecting populace. Think your burger tasted a little off at that roadside stop?”

“That’s disgusting.” He thought of all the barbeques he’d attended at Gil’s house and the bile rose in his throat again.

Carmichael shrugged. “It’s been known to happen. And at some pretty respectable joints, I might add, we’re talking five-star restaurants.”

“
Ugh. I may never eat out again. So they never find the bodies?”

“Not always. T
he files remain open, the families continue to suffer. No one ever finds out the real story.”

“Are Satanic cults responsible for all those missing children?”

Carmichael shrugged. “Certainly not, but they are responsible for some.”

Jake was silent, trying to absorb this information. It was too horrific. “Is Gil Vandercamp a Satanist?”

Carmichael leaned forward. “That’s what I’d like to find out. If he is, then hopefully he’s left clues.”

“Why don’t you haul him in and question him?”

“Because if we alert him, he’ll cover his ass, maybe even disappear for good. We must catch him by surprise. Now, tell me about your ex-wife.”