Page 45 of Silent Ritual

“You need to give him space,” the woman said.

“I just need to ask—”

“Not now, you don’t,” the nurse cut her off, a stern edge to her voice. "His condition is too unstable."

Frustrated, Sheila stepped back, clenching her fists at her sides. Time was ticking. Each passing second was one more the killer could be using to prepare his next kill.

Suddenly, Stark's gaze settled on Sheila. His eyes widened in recognition and, for a moment, fear flashed across his face before being replaced with confusion. It was clear he remembered their chase.

“Why did you run?” Sheila asked Stark.

The nurse turned toward Sheila, planting her hands on her hips. “For the last time—”

“I didn’t do it,” Stark said. “The killings, the dead women in the salt flats—I wasn’t part of it. But I did come across one of them.”

The room fell silent. The nurse, perhaps realizing the importance of this conversation, sighed and stepped back to monitor one of the machines.

“That’s why I ran,” Stark continued. “I figured maybe you found my DNA or something on the body.”

“Whose body?” Finn asked.

“Vanessa Hart—yes, that was her name.”

“How would she have your DNA on her?” Sheila asked, puzzled.

“We were out in the flats searching for bodies, a group of us,” Stark said, clearing his throat. “After summoning the Cherubim…we had to see its work with our own eyes. I guess I got a little too…curious.” He looked away.

“What did you do to the body?” Finn asked.

"I didn't..." Stark swallowed, a troubled look crossing his face. "I didn't do anything to her. I just...closed her eyes.” He paused and swallowed again.

Something in Stark's voice set off Sheila's alarm bells. She had the distinct impression he was hiding something.

“What else?” she asked. “What else happened?”

“I…I haven’t told anyone.”

“All the more reason to tell us now,” Finn said.

For several seconds, Stark said nothing. Then he seemed to come to a decision, and he nodded to himself. “Right as I was closing those eyes, a shadow fell over me. I didn’t even hear a footfall. I was about to turn around, thinking it was someone else from the group…but then I caught the smell.”

“Smell?” Sheila asked, wondering where this was going.

Stark nodded. “You couldn’t miss it, not even next to a dead body. It smelled like…sulfur.” He glanced at the two officers, a look of horror creeping over his face. “Like whatever was behind me had just crawled out of the pit of Hell.”

“Did you see who it was?” Finn asked.

Stark shook his head. “I got the distinct impression it didn’t want me to turn around. I waited, thinking I was going to be next—that I’d soon be lying on the ground next to the dead woman. And then, after a little while, it just moved away. When I finally had the courage to turn around a while later, it was gone.”

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

"It was probably just a hallucination," Finn said as he and Sheila strolled out of the hospital. "He was out in the hot sun, and he imagined there was some terrible creature behind him. That's all."

Sheila pushed open a door and stepped outside, saying nothing. As easy as it would be to discredit Stark’s story out of hand—and she certainly wasn’t buying the idea that the killer was a supernatural creature summoned by a group of occultists—there was something about the terror in Stark's eyes that had seemed genuine. Stark might be many things, but he was not a good actor. That much was clear.

"Maybe," she finally said, squinting at the bright sunlight. “But what if it wasn’t a hallucination?”

“You really think the killer’s a supernatural being?”

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