Page 361 of Castings & Curses

“Oh my God. Come now! They’re killing her!” The caller dropped the phone with a clatter. After a moment and the sounds of labored breathing the voice resumed. “It came out of the swamp Holy crap! Kill it. You have to…” A terrible scream almost made Devi jump and the line went dead.

Cappelli had met her eyes, steering the car toward the reported area of the incident. She’d responded to the homicide team there would be a slight delay in their arrival. If it was anything like she thought, it was a party gone bad and someone was playing a prank on a snitch once they found her on the phone. Now here they were in the middle of the swamp hunting down clues like some kind of episode of True Detective.

Where was the rest of the team?

She didn’t like this.

Not one bit.

“You see anything?” She whispered.

“Not yet.”

Something glimmered in the shadows ahead. She knew better than to trust anything out here. Swamp gas did funny things. The music grew louder. Instead of an electronica beat, this music brimmed with percussion and the blood rush of orchestrated screams. The sound sent shivers down Devi’s spine.

“Do you see the lights?”

Cappelli moved next to Devi, her narrow face white in the faint glow of the moon. Her lips pressed together and she nodded. “This reminds me of a bust I did a few years back. Looked like an episode of that swamp justice show. There was some pretty nasty voodoo activity on site.”

“Voodoo? Like what?” Devi sucked in a deep breath. She’d seen a few things at the local tourist traps since she took the job at the department, but nothing that rivaled what life would have been like if she’d stayed. There was a reason she left home. Other people’s darkness was always preferable to one’s own.

Cappelli urged her forward, a faraway look on her expressive face. “Yeah. Dead chickens scattered everywhere. An eviscerated goat...and the snakes. God, I hate those damned snakes.”

Devi nodded. It sounded familiar to the occult scenes she’d worked in the city. As much as it turned the stomach of the cop she’d been before, it electrified her animal.

“We have to finish this or Avery will have our asses. I don’t know why he insisted you consult, but whatever.”

Devi didn’t say a thing. All they had to do was get through this shift and she could go home. That was the deal and she was sticking with it.

“Capote and Ford are in Slidell checking out info on that stranded camper they found last week.” Cappelli peered into the shadowy forest of hanging moss and cypress trees.

“Right.” Her foot slipped in a pile of slimy putrescence and she shuddered. One time in the swamp was all it took to learn to wear boots.

“Where’d they find the camper?” She shook her foot and didn’t bother looking down. The jeans more than likely ruined, too.

“A mile or so away.”

The music stopped and their steps sounded loud in the sudden silence.

“Come on.” Cappelli picked up the pace, tugging on the sleeve of her suit jacket.

Devi jerked back without even thinking.

“Sorry.” She slid her gaze away, bolting ahead of Devi into the murky night.

Her breath came in soft pants, she hurried after Cappelli, brush and scrub pawing at her clothes and face. The light grew brighter but it barely registered as she struggled to keep up, slamming into Cappelli’s back when she froze.

Images from Cappelli’s past assailed her. A crime scene hovered and centered in her vision and she cursed herself for not paying closer attention.

A dead girl in a white dress laid out on the ground, her eyes open and glassy. The altar flickered with candlelight, the pavement surrounding it covered with colorful chalk marks and symbols. Entrails in wooden bowls covered in flies buzzed and the warehouse smelling of blood and feces.

She also felt the other woman’s pain.

But the memories weren’t over.

Her partner darted out in front of her trying to deflect the bokur coming at her from the far reaches of the shadowy room with a machete. Ridgeway, all too human and still recovering from medical leave, wasn’t fast enough. The sickening sound of the blade imbedding in his flesh caused her fragile stomach to heave once more.

“Ridgeway!” She croaked out, staggering forward. She drew for her gun in time to aim and fire, hoping to God she connected with something that counted. That something was the bokur’s head. It exploded, the sound echoing through the cavernous structure.

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