Dance For The Devil (24 page)

“Maybe, but some things still don’t add up. I believe in my heart that Gil has Amy, but I still can’t figure out why he wants to ruin me.”

Carmichael shrugged. “Who knows? Could be anything. Maybe
you cut in front of him in the cafeteria and snagged the last donut, or maybe you got a better grade on a term paper.”

Jake’s face was still pale, the face of a man haunted by demons. “Could it really be something so mundane?”

“Certainly. We’re dealing with a psychotic personality. In any event, we need to establish the relationship between Gil and your ex-wife.”

“I told you, they didn’t have a relationship.”

“Not that you know of, anyway. Secondly, and more importantly, we need to locate the bastard.”

“We agree on that point,” Jake rasped.

“’Course, it’s easier said than done. He’s probably at a safe-house. The scope of these organizations is amazing. A man of Vandercamp’s resources and intelligence probably has multiple backup accommodations in place. Failing that, he certainly would have hundreds of members willing to hide him, and I’m not just talking local, either. Vandercamp could be anywhere from next door to Katmandu.”

Cari spoke up. “Are you saying it’s impossible?”

“No, he’ll turn up eventually. Bad pennies always do. My bet is that he’s still local. It’s easier to set up here than transport his family and, if she’s still alive, Amy. I imagine she’d make quite a fuss going through an airport or ferry terminal.”

Jake allowed a ghost of a smile thinking of Amy’s obstinate demeanor. For once he was glad his daughter was such a hellcat.

“What can we do to help the investigation?” Cari asked.

“Nothing. All you can do is sit and wait.” The cop glanced from one to the
other, noting their expressions. “Don’t do anything foolish. Leave it to the professionals.”

Jake stood abruptly and shook the older man’s hand. “Thanks for your help. We’ll keep in touch.”

“I mean it,” Carmichael called to Jake’s departing back. “Stay out of trouble. Leave it to the police.”

Cari stood and accepted the cop’s outstretched hand. “Would you?” she asked curiously.
“If it was your daughter missing, would you sit idly by?”

“I’d leave it to the trained professionals.”

She smiled softly. “Bullshit.”

Benny Carmichael sat for several long moments after she’d left, thinking. Finally, he said to no one, “No, I’d do everything possible to nail the abductor’s ass to the wall.”

CHAPTER TEN

Skeeter waited by his locker, checking his watch for the millionth time. Only two minutes had passed since he last looked. Jason was late.

Skeeter hadn’t seen him for over two weeks. Jason was supposed to take him to Marvelworks, but never showed. Same thing happened each day since... Skeeter waiting dejectedly by his locker. What had he done wrong?
Had he offended the older boy?

He’d just about given up when he found the note stuffed in his locker.
Meet me here at 3:30. Got something cool to show you.

“Skeet? What are you doing here?”

Skeeter turned around, dismayed to see Darren, still dark-skinned with his Hawaiian tan.
Oh, crap, Jason will never show up if Darren’s hanging around.

“Uh, had detention,” Skeeter fabricated.

“Bummer. I was trying out for the volleyball team. Think I made it, too, although I won’t find out until Monday when they post the names. Why aren’t you trying out?”

“Volleyball sucks.”

Darren looked surprised. “I thought you liked volleyball. At least, you liked it in gym.”

Skeeter shrugged. “It’s a sissy sport.”

Darren was going to say something, then changed his mind. “Want to come over to my house and play with the stuff I got in Hawaii? Maybe your dad would let you sleepover.”

“Can’t. I’m busy.”

“When, then? Tomorrow?”

Skeeter heard footsteps in the hall. Great, Jason would find him standing there talking to this dork, and then he’d keep going. Jason had made it clear that no one
should know about their friendship, and he also made it clear it was for Skeeter’s sake. “Look, Darren, I’m not interested in playing with your stupid garbage from Hawaii. If you’ve seen one coconut carving you’ve seen them all, so beat it, okay?”

“But –”

“I said beat it, you stupid scum, before I beat your brains in. I’ve got better things to do than hang out with boring babies like you.”

Darren gave him one final, hurt look, then fled. Skeeter sighed a breath of relief. He slammed his locker door shut, then hurried around the corner. “Jason!”

“Nope, it’s me.”

“Rat? What are you doing here?”

“Jason couldn’t make it, so he sent me to get you. We got some neat stuff to show you. Ready to go?”

Skeeter smiled widely and slipped his pack on. “You bet.”

**

Gil held the newborn tightly, cradling the naked infant to his chest. Gil was dressed in full regalia, his dark hood fitted snugly into place. He had chose
n leather pants for the ceremony. That way, any splattered blood could be easily wiped off.

“Are you ready?” he called to Suzanne.

“Really, Gil, is it necessary for you to yell so loudly? You’ll wake the dead.”

Gil smiled. “That woul
d be interesting. Where’s Jason?”

“He doesn’t want to come. He hates it when babies are involved. You know how sensitive he is.”

“Nonsense. The boy needs to build tolerance for this type of thing, especially if he’s to succeed me as high-priest. It’s one thing to exclude him from the festivities when he was younger, but he’s a man now, sixteen.”

Suzanne pursed her lips. “I suppose. How do I look?”

Gil scrutinized her carefully. “Nice. Your tits look great.” He put down the infant and crossed the room, taking his wife’s breasts in his hands and squeezing. “I love it when you bare them.”

“Well, it is a special ceremony... oh, Christ, Gil, get that baby off the bed, she’s piddling all ove
r it. Bloody heaven, that’s going to stain. The fabric is moiré.”

“Jason,” Gil yelled. “Where is that boy?”

“Basement, I think. He’s spending a lot of time down there. Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Don’t question me, Suzanne. I know what I’m doing. You get Jason and I’ll clean up the piss. If the bedcover stain
s you can buy a new one.”

“It’s custom-made, Gil, it’ll take weeks – oh, Jason, there you are. I didn’t hear you come in. Daddy wants you to come tonight. Run along and change into something suitable.”

Jason looked at his parents and at the baby, his face pale. “I’m not going.”

“Don’t be silly, dear, Daddy needs you there. We’ll have no discussion about it.”

“What you’re doing is wrong. Why don’t you leave that poor baby alone? It never did anything to you.”

Gil frowned. “Son, you’re missing the point. That baby represents God. It’s perfect and pure, and totally innocent. We must sacrifice it to prove our devotion to Satan. You know that.”

“Why can’t we use chickens, or cats, or something else?”

“It’s not the same. Tonight is a special ceremony and we need a special offering. A chicken won’t do.”

The baby started to whimper and Jason crossed the room and picked her up. She nestled close to him, looking directly at him with her blue eyes. “She’s smiling at me.”

Suzanne strode over. “No she’s not, it’s gas, dear. Newborns don’t smile.”

“This one is. Please don’t hurt her, Dad. Please, Mom, don’t let him. I’ll keep her. I’ll take care of her. She can be my sister.”

Gil laughed. “You want a bastard progeny for you
r sister? That’s absurd.” He removed the infant from Jason’s arms. “This baby is a gift, conceived specifically for this purpose. Giving her life to Satan is the greatest honor possible. We should all be so lucky.”

“But it’s so cruel.”

“Nonsense, Son. Babies don’t feel pain, at least not the way we do. They can’t distinguish the difference between coldness or hunger or having their arms chopped off.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Gil thought for a moment. “Circumcision is a prime example. When a doctor cuts off the foreskin, he doesn’t use anaesthetic, and that’s acceptable practise. Do you think doctors or parents would allow babies to feel pain? Everyone would be outraged. Sure, the brat will cry for a moment or two, but they’ll cry even harder if you give them a bath.”

“Some doctors use anaesthetic.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because last time you told me that I phoned the hospital and asked.”

“Proves my point. Only some doctors do, and probably just to assuage the parents concerns. If it truly hurt the baby it would be mandatory. Now, hurry up. Meeting starts in a half-hour and traffic might be heavy.” Gil turned and looked at Jason, still standing mutinously in the middle of the room, and sighed. “Jason, don’t make me punish you. I don’t like it, and you don’t like it. Remember the last time?” Gil nodded in satisfaction at his son’s involuntary shudder. “Good. Are we clear then?”

Jason nodded mutely and left the room.

**

“What are these?” Jake asked in surprise.

“Costumes,” Cari answered, holding up a cape. “The latest in cult fashion, where black and gloomy is always in style.”

He slipped one
over his head. “Costumes are an appropriate word. Dear God, do people really wear these? How can they see?”

“Not
easily, but that’s not the point. The idea is to have total anonymity. That’s in our favor, incidentally.”

“True.” He moved across the room and bumped his shin on the coffee table. “Shit, that hurt.”

Cari smiled. “Take it easy.”

“I feel like a Grand Dragon in the Ku-Klux-Klan
.”

“I think that’s the general idea.”

He studied himself in the mirror for a moment, then pulled the hood off. “Very gruesome. Where did you get these?”

“I called around to some local bookstores, especially the ones specializing in cult material. Most of them were dead ends but the chap at
The Devil’s Den
on Yates was most accommodating, especially after I spent a hundred bucks on Satanic literature.”

“You did? Why?”

“Two reasons. Firstly to prove my sincerity – a girl’s gotta have street cred – and secondly we need convincing propaganda lying around in case we have guests.”

Jake frowned. “We have to entertain these social miscreants? I hadn’t thought of that. Do you really think they’ll come here?”

“Maybe. If I was running an illicit organization, I would be mighty cautious about who I let into play. I’d insist on checking them out first.”

“So what do we do? Invite them over for fondue and animal sacrifices?”

“Not a bad idea. At least we could cook the meat after we killed it.”

“Temping, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Chicken.”

“No, chicken I’d eat.” He
shifted the cape around, trying to get a better fit. “Did the bookstore guy have any information about cult meetings?”

“He was
as close-mouthed as a priest in confession and I didn’t want to press.”

“My you have a saucy mouth for a non-Christian girl.”

“What can I say? Twelve years of ‘Our Lady of Sorrows’ catholic school taught me more about being a heathen than Wicca has.”

“
Catholic school, eh? Did you wear a uniform?”

“Of course. Why?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, envisioning it. Cari Valentine, in knee socks and a plaid skirt... forbidden fantasy. He shook his head to clear the image. If he went down that road, they’d never get out of here. “Okay, ask me about my news.”

“Ah, you’ve been holding out.”

“There’s a meeting tonight, in Esquimalt. Google Search is a beautiful thing.”

She frowned. “They just post that information for anyone to see? Really?”

“You have to know where to dig. The chat room I entered earlier was very enlightening. They said it’s going down tonight. Something about a blue moon?”

She
stilled. “The second full moon in a calendar month? Of course, the blue moon! It’s rare enough we don’t see it every year, it’s bound to be spiritually significant to cult groups.” She ran to the calendar and calculated. “Yes, that’s tonight. I’ve been so preoccupied with everything I didn’t even think to consult the moon phases.” Her subconscious reacted to an unseen swirl of darkness and she shivered, suddenly chilled.

“No time like the present.”
Jake said, blithely unaware of the danger.

“What about Skeeter?”
Cari said, stalling.

“He called to say he was staying at Darren’s house again.”

Cari nodded. The darkness intensified until it became a palpable force and she watched Jake carefully to see if he noticed it. Nope, completely unaware, striding around the living room like he was the Phantom of the Opera, swirling the cape to great theatrics. When she spoke again, she kept her voice light. “That’s great, I’m glad Skeeter has a friend to rely on. He really needs one right now.”

**

“How long can you stay?” Rat asked.

“All night. I told my dad I was sleeping at my friend’s house.”

Rat flicked his greasy hair back and high-fived him. “Awesome, dude.” He eyed Skeeter critically. “First thing we do is ditch your clothes.”

“Why? What’s wrong with them?”

“You look like a nerd, man, no offence. Here, I brought you a t-shirt.”

Skeeter slipped it on. Black, and somewhat dirty, it featured a skull and dragon.

“Not bad,” Rat said critically, “but the effect isn’t quite right. You need to get some body-piercing, man.”

“What? Like my ear?”

“Nah, that’s for fags and pussies, unless you get a dozen or so. I know a guy with over thirty studs. Now that’s cool. Ear plugs are where it’s at, one big hole.” He was studying Skeeter like a science experiment. “I was thinkin’ more along the lines of piercing your nose. See, like mine.”

“My dad would flip.” Skeeter said.

Rat smiled, showing yellow teeth that hadn’t seen a toothbrush in recent memory. “That’s the whole point, man.”

**

Jason Vandercamp had witnessed ritual abuse on a regular basis for his entire life. As a toddler he watched other children being sexually assaulted, mutilated, and ultimately, killed. Even at the earliest age he was wise enough to understand this was not a mainstream lifestyle, and he was savvy enough to protect himself by not making a fuss. It was as if the young boy realized by remaining unobtrusive he might escape the hideous fate executed on those around him.

By nature
, Jason was a moral being, but the corruption around him anaesthetized him to the atrocities, much as an emergency room doctor numbs to the bloody carnage he witnesses day by day. He did what he could to deflect punishment on those he cared for, mostly by keeping at arm’s length. The dominant force of his father would cruelly stamp out any friendship that bloomed for Jason. Even from his enemies, Jason stayed clear. To be the cause of another’s death, however indirectly, led to many nightmares.

As he grew older, Jason befriended children of his father’s selection, always cult members like himself. Most of these children were safe, under
the protection of their parents, unless of course, they fell out of favor with the elders. Then nothing could save them, regardless of whether Jason befriended them or not.