Page 16 of Deadly Secrets
But what if it was? This sigil was nearly the same. Not quite, but close. What if Aleisha’s killer had changed his MO since that night, adding in the moon phase and ramping up his kills?
“Over there.” Roman pointed to the side of one of the shacks. “On the east side.”
Her legs wobbled as she walked around the circle to the leaning building. She stepped wrong on a rock and her ankle twisted, throwing her off balance.
Strong hands gripped her waist and righted her. “Whoa. You don’t look so good,” Roman said. “Why don’t we head back to the car and get some water?”
A part of her liked the sensation of his hands just above her hips, steadying her. Keeping her upright. Another wanted to run far away. “I need to see the…”
Her tongue was thick, her throat scratchy. All she could do was point.
Frowning, he nodded and shifted one hand to her elbow. “Lean on me.”
She did, the dizziness subsiding a bit as they stepped into the shade of a tree.
Lifting her gaze, she saw the crudely painted moons, from new to full, forming an arc on the dried and rotted wood. They’d been drawn with white paint that was now faded and dull.
A rusty brown stain cut across the depiction of the full moon.
Blood.
She locked her knees, licked her dry lips, brain spinning. “‘I looked when He broke the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth made of hair, and the whole moon became like blood.’”
Roman’s gaze pinned her. “Bible verse?”
A light breeze tickled across her hand where it held onto his. “Revelation 6:12.”
“Revelation? Like as in the apocalypse, Four Horseman Book of Revelation?”
“That’s the one.” She could breathe again.
“You said it wasn’t biblical.”
“I thought the moon cycle was being used as part of the ritual, but it’s actually just a message. It appears he believes he’s started the apocalypse.”
Roman’s tone was just a little sarcastic. “Great.”
Brooke nearly chuckled with relief. Whoever this was, it wasn’therReverend. Not the bad man her mom always warned was coming for her.
At least she didn’t think it was him. The man who’d killed Aleisha and her parents had used a sigil, but there had been just the one, and no full moon reference.
This killer, whoever he was, was fixated on cleansing the world of anyone not of the white race—nothing new in the history of the world there—but his MO seemed to vary enough, she was almost positive it wasn’t the man who’d altered her world forever.
Serial killers throughout history had rarely changed their signatures. They had a specific way of choosing their victims and killing them based on their motivation. Motivation differed from one killer to another, even if they had a similar goal like wiping out nonbelievers or a particular race. She’d seen it plenty of times while studying various past cultures.
“Have you seen enough?” Roman asked. “We have pictures if you want to see what the fresh crime scene looked like.”
The sigil isn’t the same, but so close.
That fact would keep nagging at her, she knew. She’d studied sigils for years, an all-encompassing obsession since that night when she was ten, but she’d never traced the killer’s mark to anything in the ancient texts she studied. It was made up, not part of any religion or culture, at least none that had been recorded and still existed.
Could two killers make up a similar sigil? Were they working together? Had the first mentored the second and passed his notes onto his protégé?
Wouldn’t be the first time, but it made her antsy to consider it.
There were too many questions. Questions the ghosts in this desert couldn’t answer for her.
“I’ll take that water now,” Brooke said. “And I could use some lunch. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
