Page 27 of Memento Mori

“Let’s go take a look, and then we’ll call. I think it’s important for us to see things before we report it.” He paused. “Burke agrees. Okay, let’s head down there and see if we can find anything.”

“Lead the way,” I said and stood.

When we got to the back of the house, I saw that Burke had a floating dock and a tiny personal beach. At first cursory glance, nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but as we got closer, my hackles rose more. It was the only way I could describe the feeling that swept over me. I could tell that Dev felt the same. His body tightened, and the grip he had on my hand became slippery from the sweat that now dotted his palm. After another perusal from left to right, my gaze snagged on something sticking out from behind a big boulder down by the dock, at the line where the grass met the sand and rocks. I pointed.

“Down there,” I said, and Dev’s gaze followed my finger. He nodded and picked up the pace, walking towards whatever it was I had seen. We were running out of light. Burke had some post lights down here, but it was still dark. I let go of Dev’s hand and pulled out my cell, turning on the flashlight app. He nodded and did the same with his. When we got closer, I saw that what I’d caught sight of were boots. Nice ones that disappeared into dark denim. Oh, God.

“Fuck,” Dev said aloud, echoing my thoughts. I had a feeling I knew exactly what we’d find when we got down there, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I hadn’t seen August’s body, but Bea had told us exactly what she’d found and how she’d found him. While I’d seen Dustin Reynolds’ corpse, I didn’t have a personal connection to the man. Between those and what I knew would soon fill my vision, I wanted to vomit because all I could think about was Reagan’s drained form. I stopped in my tracks.

“Hey,” Dev said, backtracking a bit and making me look at him. “Are you okay? I know this can’t be easy.”

“No, I’m not okay. But I can do this. Just give me a second.”

He pulled me into his body and held me close, his oak moss scent enveloping me and calming something inside me. I took a few deep breaths and then stepped away, ready to see this through.

“Let’s do this.”

We walked the rest of the way to the rock and rounded the side of it. The sight before me knocked out every breath I had left and staggered me. I actually took a step back, my hand flying to my mouth, my eyes rounding.

“Holy fuck,” Dev said. I couldn’t agree more. While Reynolds’ body had been gruesome with its slashed throat, and disturbing in how it had been arranged, this was like something out of a nightmare—or a horror movie. Burke was posed in nature, the same as Dustin and August had been—at least according to Detective Miller—but this was something else. More heinous. More depraved. More . . . personal, somehow. He lay prone with his hands crossed over his middle, his legs straight out, that damn token or coin on his forehead like the others. But where the others looked almost peaceful in death despite the bloodless wounds, Burke was a mess. There was no other way to describe it.

His skin had that unnatural waxy pallor that the others had, likely a result of the exsanguination, and a little bit of the elements I supposed. But nearly every inch of Burke’s skin bore a gash. It was like death by a thousand cuts. And his eyes . . . oh, God, his eyes. They had been removed. Almost surgically, the gaping holes like hell pits. He, too, had a slit throat, but while Dustin’s had been almost surgical in its cleanliness, this was ragged and raw, as if the monster who had done this had used the dullest implement possible to inflict the most pain. There were other pieces of flesh missing from his body, as well, almost as if someone had torn chunks free. Maybe even with teeth.

Jesus.

“This is different,” Dev said.

“It is. Definitely more rage filled. Something’s happening to our killer. Something . . . I don’t know. Set them off? Not only have the kills been much closer together—at least from what I’ve gathered about the cases—but they’re escalating. And yet becoming sloppier. All I can hope is that the scene is sloppy, too. This sicko needs to be caught.” I looked up to see Dev staring at a spot just beyond the body, tears in his eyes.

“I’m so damn sorry, man. So sorry. You didn’t deserve this. And I hate that you have to see it.” He wiped his nose and nodded, presumably at something Burke said.

“I wish I knew, brother.” He paused for a minute, looking as if he were listening. “You’ll need to work through this earthly trauma. You can venture out, but you’ll eventually have to return home to recharge since this is where you entered the veil. After that, if you want and are receptive, I would be honored to perform a ritual for you to help free your soul and allow you to enter a place of rest if that’s what you want. But until then—and even after if you so decide to forego the ritual and are open to it—I’d love for you to help with the investigation at Arborwood. Maybe even work with some of my other departed family and friends to get to the bottom of this asshole wreaking havoc on our city.” He nodded, and then a small, soft smile graced his face.

“I told you. I found you for a reason. We were meant to work together. This may not be what we had planned, but you are and will always be a part of the team. Until you decide you’ve had enough. I mean, why would I pass up access to the Akashic Records by a historian?” He smiled, and then laughed. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“What did he say?” I asked, not believing those words had actually come out of my mouth.

“He said that I would be stupid if I didn’t jump at the chance to work with a researcher and historian who basically now knows everything.”

“What are the Akashic Records?” I asked, needing a bit more to understand the context.

“For those who believe in divine wisdom,” Dev said, “the Akashic Records are a compendium of all universal events. Thoughts, words, emotions, intent . . . everything that has ever occurred orwilloccur in terms of all life forms—both human and not.”

“Geez. That’s intense,” I said.

“Yeah,” Dev answered. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you have to admit, it’s a comforting thought.”

He wasn’t wrong. If those we’d lost were wherever they ended up and inherentlyknewwhen things would happen and how they tied into events of the past, it would be like having the best guardians ever. Maybe Reaganwaswatching out for me and guiding me. I loved that thought, but it didn’t stem the pain I still felt. And I had another question.

“But if they know everything that happened and will happen, then why don’t we already know who killed them?”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. I mean, it is,” he said, “but there are rules. One of the biggest ones being that they cannot know their own fates—past, present, or future—and they can only access the records if they actively go searching. It isn’t like just having the entire knowledge of the universe instantly in their heads. They can easily access things to get answers, but not if it pertains to them. There has to be balance. And because people like me exist and can talk to those who have access to that knowledge, someone, somewhere, decided that it wouldn’t be fair. Not to mention, as we’ve found, if the person being researched has ties to someone who has ties and so forth, the knowledge gets . . . muddy and a bit obscured. Which is why my sister and Findley have yet to discover who killed Wren, even though they’ve had other murders to investigate.”

“Well, that’s bullshit,” I said, and Dev laughed.

“You’re not wrong,” he agreed.

Dev said goodbye to the historian, telling him that he didn’t think it would be a good idea for Burke to stick around when the police came to handle things with his body, and I absolutely had to agree. He’d been through enough. I couldn’t believe I was entertaining the idea that a psychic and a ghost had just led us to a murdered corpse, but I couldn’t deny the facts. And I couldn’t ignore that I felt compelled to believe just about every word that came out of Dev’s mouth. It was unusual yet comforting.

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