Page 31 of Oohs, Ahhhs, and Orbs

A bottle of water was shoved into my hand, and I could hear Logan talking into my ear. It took several seconds before I could make out the words he was saying through the buzzing in my head.

“Slow breaths, little witch. Nice and slow. That’s it. Breathe with me. In and out. Good girl.” I nodded my head, letting him know I was listening. As my breathing calmed, so did my heart rate. I lifted my shaky hand, bringing the bottle of water to my lips. “Small sips. That’s my girl.”

His soothing voice helped, along with the cold water, until I could finally open my eyes again. I felt his thumbs swipe over my cheeks, and I glanced down at them to see the wetness there. I hadn’t even realized I had been crying.

I looked up into Logan’s concerned face. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be sorry. I should have known better than to ask you to do this.”

I shook my head, seeing that he was beating himself up over the situation. “No. I told you I was willing. It’s not your fault.” I looked down at the table to see the folder once again closed and both of the case files resting in front of Mac. He looked just as apologetic as Logan sounded. “Please, stop beating yourselves up. It was just a shock.” I shook my head again. “I know what to expect now.”

I held out a hand but Mac hesitated just as Logan barked out “No!”

I turned a glare his way, then aimed it at Mac for good measure. “Icando this.”

I waited until, finally, both men seemed to grudgingly give in. I took one last fortifying breath, then opened the folder again.

Chapter

Seventeen

BRIDGETTE

The sight wasn’t much easier the second time I looked at the photo of Emily Brooks lying there. I couldn’t imagine it ever being easy. But I know if I wanted to help find her justice and to stop anyone else from being murdered by the killer, I needed to find my inner strength.

I forced my eyes to ignore the blood and focused on the rest of the room, seeing what I hadn’t seen the first time when I had been so caught off guard. I took in the melted candles and the stones. I noticed the drawing that she was lying on and remembered the questions that Logan had asked me on our first night having dinner together. His questions made more sense, and I understood why he was asking them.

“This was definitely a ritual. I can’t make out the individual symbols in this photo.” I picked up the glossy page and noticed the one underneath it. The following picture was of the same scene, just from another angle. I moved that one aside to see more photos stacked.

One by one, I laid the pictures out in front of me on the table. I pointed to one that was a close up of the drawings. “This isa symbol that has to do with power.” I bit my lip. “I need my grandmother’s books. She probably has something in them that has to do with ritualistic symbols.”

Mac leaned forward, his pen in hand. “So you’re saying these drawings mean something?”

I nodded. “Yes. When a ritual is performed, there is a reason. A specific reason. If I wanted my garden to grow better, I would focus all my energy on that, and only that.” I pointed to the stones placed near the hands and feet. “Different stones have different properties. They help focus your energy.” I pointed to the candles. “Candles are ceremonial. You light certain colors for specific reasons as well.”

I sat back as I took in the pictures laid out in front of me. “The person who did this was focusing on power. They used the candles to pray to a deity or creature for help.”

“I’m sorry, did you say creature?” Logan asked from beside me. “Like a demon?”

I shook my head. “Demons aren’t like you think. They are simply another race from another plane of existence. Another realm. You don’t pray to demons, and you can’t summon one to do things for you. The movies have that all wrong. No, not a demon. But there are creatures that are similar to gods, but without the power of a god, whom you can call on. It’s hard to explain.”

“Alright. So, who was this person praying to or calling on?” Mac asked as he scratched at his chin.

“I have no idea. If I had my grandmother’s books, I could maybe find out what some of these symbols mean.” I looked up at Logan. “Is that allowed?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” He looked back at the first photo with the body being displayed in the center of a pentagram and pointed to it. “I checked at the time and notedthat each point of her body was facing a specific direction. Her head was facing north, her feet south, her hands east and west.”

I nodded as I took in his words. “That doesn’t surprise me. The person performing the ritual would want to be precise.” I forced myself to look at the blood. “Is that a stab wound?” I asked while swallowing back the bile that threatened. I reached over and picked up the water bottle again for another sip of the cool water.

Logan eyed me, but at the slight shake of my head he sighed then looked back at the picture. “The coroner reported a slim, sharp, double sided blade was used. A single thrust that bypassed the ribs perfectly. Mrs. Brooks died instantly.”

“Well,” I blew out a breath. “That’s something at least. From what you describe, it sounds like an athame was used. Which, of course, makes perfect sense.”

“Why does it make sense, and what is an athame?” Mac asked.

“An athame is in nearly every witch’s… kit. Rituals, ceremonies, they all require the use of an athame, even if you just use it to call on the four corners.” I pointed at the woman’s head, feet, and hands in turn. “A witch gets her energy from nature. The Earth is one giant ball of nature and therefore energy. The moon is directly related to the Earth and without it’s gravitational pull, the energy wouldn’t be the same. That’s why the rituals that need the strongest amount of energy to perform correctly are done at night when the moon is out.” I looked between the men. “I’m assuming the murder was done at night. Probably around midnight?” They both nodded in the affirmative.

I sat back and took another drink. I took in every picture again, trying to see if anything stood out that would help.

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