Oracle Rising (11 page)

What the hell was she thinking stopping there?

He was a freaking cop.

And she was just a plain old freak.

Shit!

Shit!

Shit!

After stopping at the coffee shop, she headed home. All the way there, she could feel someone watching her.

This couldn’t be good.

Not at all.

A part of her hoped it was the sexy cop at the scene of the burned out house, but she knew she wouldn’t get that lucky. Juliett had terrible luck with the opposite sex.

With her luck, it was the killer.

Why had she been so stupid?

Why did she ever leave the little cabin?

Now she’d been spotted, and it was going to be her death. There was no doubt about it. As she arrived back home, she locked the doors, placed a chair beneath the knobs, and headed to the only safe place she knew.

The closet.

As she sat in there, her forehead against her knees, she prayed for help. There had been that calming voice in her head, and surely she was still there. It was all Juliett had to hold on to. If Oracle was gone, she was screwed.

Immediately, she began praying for help.

“Please send me someone. Please get me out of this, and I swear I won’t use my gift ever again! I’ll try and be normal. I won’t even go back to work as a nurse. I swear!”

Her words were whispered in the darkness of the closet over and over again. They were her mantra.

They were the only way she was going to stay sane. If she survived this, she’d quit being a freak.

She’d stop being evil.

She’d never…

Juliett heard something.

It sounded like footsteps heading her way. Immediately, her pulse began pounding, her mouth went dry, and she got ready to fight for her life.

Yes, she had a weapon.

When she realized she was in danger, she bought one for just this type of emergency. If it came down to it, she’d fight with all she had left in her. There was no way she wanted to end up like the women she saw being tortured.

No, she’d die fighting.

As the footsteps moved closer, she raised her arm and pointed the gun at the door. Her aim sucked, and she’d never fired it before, but at this range, all she had to do was look scary, right?

If the intruder thought she was going without a fight, he was wrong.

How did he find her so fast?

It had to be the man following her.

As the doorknob moved, slowly turning, her finger went to the trigger. Her breath labored, her heart pounded, and she was pretty sure she was going to pee her pants in fear. This was no way to live—or die.

When the door was pulled open, she did what she had to do to ensure her safety. Juliett squeezed and closed her eyes.

As soon as her finger hit the trigger, she heard the startled shout and a thud.

OH MY GOD!

It worked!

She actually hit her target.

As she went to open her eyes, she was forcefully yanked out of the closet by her arm and pressed to the bed.

She screamed.

She fought.

She tried to escape, but it was too late.

He hadn’t been alone.

And now she was dead…

       
                
* * *
  O R A C L E   * * *

Sheriff’s Office

Wednesday afternoon

Oh, it was a really bad day.

It had been a long time since he’d felt this chewed up and spit out. Nothing he did was going the way he planned. First, the media had gone shit wild on the news story, plastering the dead woman’s face all over their screens.

Unfortunately, they didn't know if it was her for sure.

That pissed off a lot of people.

Most importantly? Yeah, the mayor.

When he arrived at the Mayor’s house, to reassure him that his men and the ME were doing all they could, someone had already dropped the bomb.

The televisions were on the local channel, the man looked like he’d been weeping, and the sheriff had walked into one big mess. Of course the man was going to lose it.

Who wouldn’t?

It wasn’t like he could blame him.

So, the explosion happened. When Mayor Ben Ryan saw him, it added fuel to the fire. He lost it.

Oh, not in tears, but in tearing the hide off his ass.

It wasn’t pretty.

For some reason, the mayor was blaming him because his daughter’s face was all over the news, that the department couldn’t confirm it was her, and that he had to hear it second hand.

No one wanted to find out their child was dead this way, and he totally got that. It wasn’t what any parent deserved, but for some reason, the man thought it was his fault.

It was insane.

Rhett didn't kill her, shove her in the house, and then light it on fire. In fact, until the ME gave them the details, he wasn’t even sure it was Mandy.

No one was.

That was the irony of all this.

Granted, she wasn’t answering her cell, and her car was still in the burnt out garage, but she could be shacked up with some man after a night on the town…

If that was his last hope, well, then he was screwed.

What Rhett needed was to find something to refocus on. He had the information on his desk that Deputy Roosevelt Prince had dug up on the woman.

For a newbie, the man was thorough.

He liked that in an employee. Finding him was a lucky break, and he knew it. Sometimes, small towns didn't get great applicants for the jobs. They were overlooked.

As he read over the paper, he couldn’t help but search the woman on the DMV database. When her picture popped up, she was smiling.

His heart skipped. She didn't look anything like she did at the scene. Well, her features were the same, but there was no fear in her picture.

Juliett looked approachable.

It made her even more gorgeous.

Rhett stared at her, wondering what she had to do with this mess. If she was involved, he was going to hate busting her. At some point, they were going to have to meet.

Oddly, he was looking forward to just that. He wasn’t going to even try to pretend he wasn’t curious.

Sue him.

She was beautiful, and he was a man.

As he read over the information, he didn't get why she was in his town. Her address on the license was for the next town over. Granted, she could be here visiting someone. It wasn’t like she was across the country from her home.

Yet, his gut was off.

No, that was an understatement. It was screaming. There was something about all this that had him scratching his head. As he read the paper his deputy gave him, he saw the address scribbled there. He’d followed the woman back to the cabin she was staying in, and it wasn’t far from his.

Interesting.

Maybe he’d have to swing over and introduce himself. It was the least he could do. You know…to be friendly.

As he stood, his desk phone rang.

Well shit
.

With his luck, it was probably the mayor wanting an update. For a second, he thought about letting his secretary get it, and then racing out of the building. Then, he realized that was a chicken shit thing to do. He had to face the music.

“Sheriff,” he stated gruffly.

“I started the autopsy, and you might want to get over here,” he stated.

That brightened Rhett’s day a little bit. At least they’d have cold hard scientific facts shortly.

They’d also have something to give to the media camped outside his office, and his boss.

He crossed his fingers.

“Is it the mayor’s daughter?”

“Just get down here, Sheriff. We’ll discuss it then,” Doctor Allen stated brusquely, right before hanging up.

Well, it looked like his impromptu meet and greet was going to have to wait.

He had a job to do.

The dead called.

Rhett Longfellow had to sneak out the back door, down the alley, and into the receiving door of the morgue. Fortunately, no one saw him.

Or at least he hoped not.

The last thing he needed was that headline attached to the photo of him trying to dodge the media. They’d surely make him bleed for evading them.

Inside the concrete building, he found the autopsy room and headed in. He hated this part of the job, but then again, he figured everyone did.

If they didn't, they were insane.

“Doc, you called?” he asked, crossing the room toward the gowned man behind the metal table.

“I did. You’re going to want to see this,” he stated, pointing at the charred remains.

“Yay. There goes my dinner plans,” he said, and then he covered his nose with his large hand, “and breakfast too.”

“I know what you mean,” Doctor Allen stated, even though he didn't appear to be bothered by it.

The two men stared down at the crispy victim, resting in front of them.

She was a hot mess.

Well, maybe that wasn’t an appropriate way to describe her. While her flesh had cooled, she was broken apart. Her jaw was gaping open, and it sickly sat on the table beside the head.

“Really?” Rhett asked, pointing at it. “She didn't suffer enough?”

“When a body burns, it tightens all the muscles. I had to remove it from the skull to get an ID. Getting into her mouth was nearly impossible the other way.”

Rhett cringed. It put some sick visuals into his head, and he was grateful that he didn't have to come by this office all that much.

Doctor Allen’s job sucked.

“Great. Who is she?”

“Oh, it’s definitely Mandy Ryan. She had distinct dental work. You can stop worrying about your dead woman’s identity.”

Shit!

Shit!

Shit!

That’s exactly what he didn't want to hear. How could his day possibly get worse? This was the one thing he didn't want to hear from the ME.

“She was murdered.”

And there it was. That was the only other thing he was worried about. Apparently, the universe liked seeing him get his ass kicked by a grieving mayor.

“Please tell me that you’re kidding,” Rhett offered. “Now would be a really great time for you to yank that stick out of your ass and tell me you’re yanking my chain.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Sorry, Sheriff. The stick is remaining in place.”

“Come on, Doc! It could be accidental fire. Are you sure it wasn’t?”

Again, he shook his head. “It’s not.”

Why him?

Rhett knew it was likely going to get worse.

“She has smoke in her lungs. She died breathing it in, and the burn marks inside the house are being investigated.”

“Okay, and?”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Sheriff, but she was the source of the fire. It had nothing to do with wiring or a cigarette. We tested the fabric on the bed, and she was the catalyst.”

Shit!

Shit!

Shit!

It was getting worse.

“What did the killer use?”

“Your firebug likes gasoline.”

Oh boy.

The mayor was going to shit a ton of bricks, all over him and his staff. Rhett could see it now.

“So she was murdered. I’ll pass that information on,” he offered.

“Oh, I’m not done.”

Rhett stared at him. “What more could you possibly say to make this worse? The mayor’s daughter was killed and burned alive. That’s pretty grim.”

“She was raped too.”

He closed his eyes. Not only did they have an arsonist and a killer, but a rapist now too.

The media was going to go shit nuts on his ass. If he kept his job past the end of the week, it was going to be a miracle.

Holy shit!

This was bad.

“How do you know?” he asked. “She’s crispier than my momma’s biscuits on a Sunday after church goes late. You can’t just look at her girl bits and see that, can you?”

Was that even possible?

“There were inside tears, indicative of rape. There was also semen. He didn't use a condom.”