The Hidden Paths to Power (12 page)

Harold showed up, parked near our car and pulled a shovel from his trunk before walking toward us.

I gave him a hug, as he said, “Fortunately, since this is a park, and therefore public land, I don’t need a warrant to dig here. If a patrol officer comes then that just gives me another pair of hands to use.”

We took him over to the mound and Harold calmly, asked those who were nearby, to clear the area. His badge ensured the park cleared out fast. The need to expose the shield, meant he just started the clock, on how long it would be before the media found out.

Lieutenant Cramer started to carefully dig. He kept track of everything he did, with a small tape recorder, to give to the CSIs, if they were necessary.

It took him about ten minutes to expose the mutilated hand of Tiffany. He didn’t have confirmation but I did. The hand looked like it did in my vision.

Harold stopped digging immediately. He came to me, handed me my letter, heard my report about the three boys from earlier then said, “I’ll inform the patrol guys in this area to keep their eyes open for them. I can give you a couple minutes, to make yourselves scarce, before I call this in.”

I gave him Tiffany’s address then we got in the car.

It was fortunate we did, because the first news truck was pulling up to the park, just as we were leaving.

I turned and saw Harold on his phone, and didn’t envy the long night coming to him. I promised silently, to start taking some of the load off his shoulders, as soon as I could.

At the house, we went in and turned the TV on. Channel four was the first to arrive, so we watched, as Harold had to do his investigation, under the watchful eyes of the media.

Officers were arriving to help with crowd control and CSIs were arriving, to work on getting the body uncovered properly.

Kevin McDonald of channel four asked Harold, “How were you tipped off about this find?”

“I got a quiet tip from a concerned citizen. I came out personally first, to ensure there was something to find, before calling the entire team. The tip came from someone who wished to remain anonymous, in case this is the work of Ryan Gilpatrick. They did not want to become a target if this is him.”

“You said, if. Is there reason to believe this isn’t his work?”

“The earlier bodies were found openly displayed. This one was buried but Ryan has been known to change his mode of operation. His first attacks were with robotic explosives. The latest, have all been killed with some unknown weapon, we believe he designed. This one appears to be his most gruesome yet, which shows he’s devolving. He’s becoming more sadistic. I have a few leads I’m working on that I’ll not put on air, as I do not wish him to be informed about the direction of my investigation.”

“Has there been progress in the search for Deana Boller? Also, do you believe it’s possible, he may have already found her, killed her and her body just hasn’t been found yet?”

“I will not speculate about the fate of Deana. Until a body is put in front of me, I’ll continue to believe she’s alive and will be found at some point. The missing persons detectives in Denver are still looking for her and I choose to believe she’s safe. Our community wishes her well and I hope, she’s in a place where she can watch this, so she knows everyone is thinking good thoughts that she’ll be found soon.”

I felt a few tears fall hearing this. I owed it to people, to end their worry for me, but I couldn’t do that, until I was in a better position to face Ryan.

After a night of blissful passion, we got busy.

I spent most of my days in either the library or the casting room. Every few days, Doriane would insist, I take a little time to relax in the backyard, or disguise myself and go for a walk. Like anything that took physical exertion, it took time to build up the stamina, to handle the work load. I was determined though.

I became as focused on these studies, as I was when I was aiming to be an FBI agent. My wand was filling with prepared spells and I was getting stronger against the horror, as I would watch the reports about Tiffany and the other dead.

Anytime the faces of the victims, were shown on the news, it drove me harder.

When I would see Megan or Karen, I pushed that much more.

Two months passed and I had two more visions of Ryan. He was starting to put some pressure on the words, going out of control. Fortunately, these latest victims were left in open display, so we didn’t have to bring Harold’s attention to them.

I felt some pressure to start forcing him to back down some. If his mentor wasn’t going to put some restraint on him then we had to.

It was now the middle of July, and Doriane stopped the lesson we were in the middle of immediately, “Marcus is sending me an urgent message. This would be a good time for you to meet my friend.”

We locked up the house and drove south into Englewood.

I was grinning ear-to-ear, as we pulled up to a house, with an obvious gay influence, as he was a man who lived alone. No women ever graced his bed.

Marcus Olivere was the second of the two before me, to become Doriane’s students. She awakened his power in England in 1843. The only things about the modern world he took full advantage of, was the modern decorating choices and being gay was becoming more socially acceptable. The subject still had a ways to go but he didn’t have to hide it as much as in his homeland and time.

If his choice in fashion wasn’t a dead giveaway, when he opened his door; with his purple silk shirt, well-cut black slacks, feminine house-slippers and cigarette held in a limp wrist; the fact that his eyes held warmth but no sexual attraction was.

He said as soon as his door was shut, “Doriane, my dear; I felt the most horrid use of dark magic just last night. I went prowling but I think, we need your more sensitive talents, to ferret it out. It’s east of here in Aurora,” then his attention turned to me, “Oh…where are my manners? Marcus Olivere, is the title I was graced with at birth, but should we find it necessary to be in public together, please call me, Stanley Pritchard.”

“Deana Boller and don’t scream, please. Yes, it’s really me in the flesh. I’m quite fine being a guardian now. My current public name, until I’m ready to announce to the world I’m alive and well, is Debbie Holton.”

“I had a feeling Ryan Gilpatrick’s story turned mystical, with some of the ways people are kicking the bucket. From personal experience, I can tell you, you’re in the best hands possible for learning this lovely life we lead.”

After we were provided glasses of wine, with frilly coasters to protect his coffee table then seated, Doriane said, “Share the details of what you were able to discover.”

Marcus answered, “Here’s the story. I was entertaining a lovely gentleman; whom I’m hoping will forgive my abrupt departure; when I felt a sizeable use of dark magic. It nearly caused me to wet my pants in front of my guest. As I was getting closer, I felt a smaller use that lasted for two seconds then was gone. I arrived in the southernmost part of Aurora on the border with Centennial. I was in a heavily populated residential area, so couldn’t poke around too much. If there is a dark user’s casting room in that neighborhood, it was well shielded. I couldn’t pinpoint the source, though I could feel the traces left by the large spell. I snooped around as much, as I could get away with, as it was 2:00 in the morning.”

I interjected, “I know that area of Aurora well. It’s heavily populated with homeowner’s associations. They’ll be up in arms, if anyone’s yard shows signs of dark influences.”

Marcus responded, “That’s why, I think something unexpected happened last night, and the second, short burst, was someone being disciplined for carelessness.”

Doriane sat in thought, “The homeowner’s association might be our road in. They would be aware, if someone starts making sudden plans to move. If a dark user got careless, they’ll be looking to escape and cover their tracks fast before guardians descend on the place. We should have all three of us there, in case they get jumpy enough to become aggressive. Marcus; have you been keeping up with your wand use?”

I had to giggle as he responded, “In every way that question could be taken.”

Marcus’ sense of fashion, wouldn’t allow him to ride in something as utilitarian, as Doriane’s Honda. We climbed into his Jaguar and the purring engine came to life.

It took us nearly twenty minutes to arrive in the Rocky Pines community.

Doriane dialed the number on the sign for the homeowner’s association, as Marcus pulled over, until Doriane had the information we needed.

Doriane heard, “Linda Tomlinson, President of the Rocky Pines Neighborhood Association; how may I help you?”

“Ms. Tomlinson; my name is Kimberly Daniels. I’m a private investigator, working with the police on the Ryan Gilpatrick case. I’ve recently come across some clues that told me, he may have a connection, to one of the residents living in your community. I need to know, if you have anyone living here that goes by that last name, or if you’ve received notice of someone moving out this morning.”

“I can’t give that information to you. We take our residents’ privacy seriously.”

“There are two ways this can happen, Ms. Tomlinson. You can give the information to me, and only have a single, quiet detective poking around, or I can call Lieutenant Harold Cramer, and have this community swarmed with officers. Which do you think will allow you to keep the position you hold?”

“Can you guarantee it stays quiet?”

“As long as he isn’t hiding here then yes. If he is, you’re going to want as many officers here as possible looking for him.”

“I hope he isn’t. There’s a Gilpatrick residence in the center of the community. I’m always having trouble with them because their yard always has a foul odor and never seem to get it taken care of.”

After receiving the physical address, Doriane replied, “We’ll do everything we can to keep this quiet but if Ryan is here, I’ll have no choice but to call in the police.”

“I understand. If he is, it’s past time he gets caught.”

I was scared, as this was the first time, I was actually hunting dark users.

Doriane’s and Marcus’ presence helped boost my nerve as we drove to the house.

As we pulled up in front, we discovered, we wouldn’t be doing any fighting today.

There was a note pinned to the door that only those with magic could see.

We got out and approached the front door.

The note read:

To the guardian or guardians who come;

   When you find the casting room and what it contains, understand that ONLY one of our number was responsible. You know who it is, so we will not put the name on paper. We maintain the balance and a promise is given, the one sought after will be under control, before being let out of his prison. Be assured, we guard our own, and war shall follow, should we be hunted without true cause. The balance is not in danger.

Doriane forced us to back up, as she sensed the spell that destroyed the note, after it was read in the presence of guardian power, “I’m sure the door is unlocked. They want this cleaned up as soon as possible. Dark users do not make promises like that lightly. I imagine Ryan is undergoing some torturous, attitude adjustment. We’ll have to continue looking for them but not as threats to the balance yet. We just need to know the faces and names.”

I asked, “If they left that quickly, won’t we find things in there with that information?”

“I doubt it. They probably obliterated anything with personal information, after Marcus left the area last night. Something may be found in the records on the house but nothing about where they are now.”

We let ourselves in as the door had been left unlocked. The signs were present of a hurried departure. The pictures in the frames had been burned, the drawers of the desk in the study pulled out and ash cover everything, showing all records had been eliminated.

We didn’t bother investigating the entire house; that could be left to Harold.

It was only our responsibility to see what was in the casting room that caused Ryan to become a prisoner to his family.

You’d think up to this point, nothing about Ryan would shock me anymore.

What we found, after defeating the spells guarding the door, to the casting room below the house, would leave me with the scary idea, nothing was beyond him.

Somehow, Ryan found nine girls, who looked like I did, at fourteen.

They were all blonde with brown eyes. Each wore the same dress and blouse I did, the day I protected Ryan from Trevor McShane. Each had their stomachs cut open and sitting in the wounds was a daisy; the same kind flower he presented me with when he asked me to the dance. The girls were posed ritualistically.

It was what resided in the center of the floor that solved the magical mystery for Doriane and had her thanking the spirits, Ryan’s family stopped him.

On the floor, was a very detailed woodcarving of me. The idol was cracked down the middle, as of someone forcing the energy within, to be released into the air, without a focus. That was what Marcus felt last night. Whoever stopped Ryan, prevented the spell from taking proper form, and let the energy dissolve into the atmosphere.

Doriane explained, “What Ryan was attempting to cast, was the dark-eyed lover spell. It’s a slave spell designed to obliterate the free will of the target. Free will is a dangerous thing to mess with and the amount of dark energy necessary to cast it, would’ve had every guardian in the world feeling the balance tilting dangerously out of whack. Ryan’s family just stopped him, from turning them into our version, of the world’s most wanted fugitives. His obsession with you Deana, has reached a point, where we must put an end to him. If it puts us at war with the rest of his family then so be it. He’s showing that even his family may not be able to control the growth of his obsession.”

I didn’t know what to feel in that moment as I took in this scene.

Ryan was willing to put the world’s balance at risk for me.

I knew better than to take any blame any more.

What Ryan Gilpatrick was doing was all his responsibility but this had gone beyond a feud between me and him.

He was attempting to make me his slave, which shows he wasn’t thinking clearly. It was me he wanted, but without my free will, I wouldn’t be me. If he’d succeeded, it would’ve been worse, than if I had chosen to go to him, to end the violence. He would’ve ended what he was searching for; my willingness to accept his love.

Without my free will, I couldn’t make that choice.

After we searched the room, to ensure all the dark magic had been eliminated, we went back up and sat on the front porch.

I called Harold, “Lieutenant Cramer.”

“You really need to work on how you greet people on the phone. I feel like a colleague rather than the niece I think of myself as.”

“Saves time, which I don’t have much of these days. I hope you aren’t reporting another dismal find.”

“It’s both dismal and a possible break in your case. We found where Ryan was hiding. He and those who were sheltering him are gone but the house we’re at, may give you, your first hot lead in a long while.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are crime scene personnel going to be necessary?”

“I need you to take a look at the scene, before you determine your next move. This one is creepy from my point of view, if you catch my meaning.”

“That bad, huh? Give me the address.”

Fifteen minutes later, I was diving into his arms for a comforting hug, before we took him down to the room below the house.

Harold took one look at the scene and said, “I need you to come out of hiding before this goes public.”

Part Three

Finding My Strength

Two hours later, Doriane and I returned home.

I could sense my mentor was upset about something but wouldn’t say anything, until she had us in the casting room and seated.

Doriane sighed, “I wish you would’ve consulted with me, before agreeing so quickly to come out of hiding. I understand Harold’s position. He needs you to provide something positive to the community, as the details of the new find become public. I also understand that, with Ryan under the careful management of his mentor, the risk to you has been minimized. What you failed to take into account, before so quickly agreeing, were the potential consequences to us as guardians. You accepted the mantle of guardian, so that must be your first priority before the feelings of others.”

“What potential consequences?”

“Harold’s request, to have you come out so soon after the find, will turn you into a celebrity. You are a public face but we’re talking the whole gamut of being a celebrity. That means talk shows and multiple interviews in front of cameras. There will be many public appearances. That means, we’re talking about several years, of you appearing in the public eye, without being seen to change. You can change your appearance with magic but the more you have to use, to give the appearance of aging, the greater the chance of making a mistake that could expose the magical world.”

“I’m sorry. I got a little excited with the knowledge that, I might be able to openly see my friends and family soon.”

“I understand your motivation but it’s my job, as your teacher, to remind you of your first priority, until it becomes stuck in your mind. It must be an even greater priority than the feelings of your friends and family. I brought you in here because I have a new spell to teach you. I think you’re strong enough now to cast it, though it might leave you feeling like sleeping through the whole day tomorrow. It’s an important one for us. Now take off your shoes and socks because you need direct contact between the skin and the symbols you will use.”

She directed me to sit on a pillow, with my right foot on the traveler’s symbol, and my left on the symbol for an oak tree spirit. She taught me the names of the symbols in the language of mystics then the three keywords for the spell I was casting.

When she was ready, she stood by the door to go upstairs, “When you’re steady enough, make the room go dark and cast that spell. I’ll be waiting for you upstairs when you’re done.”

I could tell, this was one of those things, she wished she didn’t have to do, but was necessary, for me come to a full understanding of this life we have.