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“I cannot make that promise.”
There were three other cult members that had come to town, but they hadn’t been in the basement–as far as I could tell–judging from the frantic communication between them after their friends disappeared. They were all meeting to discuss recent events in person at a church on the outskirts of town.
“Criminal geniuses, they are not,” I quipped.
The two of us armed up. I checked on Stellan, who was still sleeping–I’d taken pity on him and given him some of the drug he’d given Aurora. Turnabout’s fair play. He’d been in so much pain, and at least he was sleeping now.
But I had to shake him awake. He started up. “Sophia?” The word tumbled from his lips as he looked at me wild-eyed.
It took me a second to remember that was the name of his sister, and then I felt like an asshole. “Not yet.”
Cain was going to want to head back to campus. Pax and I had soccer games, Cain had football, we all had to run the Sphinx… and Cain had his internship in crime to continue, from the sex club to his father’s business. But Stellan was going to want to stay here and finish what he’d started. I didn’t feel optimistic about the odds we’d track down the end of this cold case. But I knew what Aurora would choose.
“Look at these people.” I turned my laptop around to face him, and he swiped his hand through his hair, trying to focus on the screen when he still looked groggy. “Were they there in the park? We didn’t find their bodies in the basement.”
He stared at their faces, then looked up at me. “What are you up to?”
“I’m trying to make sure Cain and I are protecting Aurora and not just committing the murder of some deeply unwise souls.”
He scoffed. “You’re more careful than Cain would be. He’d say it’s worth it.”
“I’m not a cold-blooded murderer.” It was true. I didn’t want to kill anyone–I was capable of doing whatever had to be done, but it would never be… nothing to me. Not like it was for Cain.
“They were there.” He sounded sure of himself, then winced as he moved his arm. “I won’t forget those faces.”
I shrugged. “After today, you might as well.”
Then Cain and I headed out, leaving Pax and Aurora snuggling. It hardly seemed fair.
* * *
Cain and I drove to the location on the outskirts of town where the cult was meeting. On our way, we plotted how we could implicate them in my father’s murder.
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” I muttered, thinking about my father’s death and about how much sooner I should’ve had him killed. He should never have had the chance to kidnap Aurora andtouchher… the thought of his disgusting hands on her body made me instantly furious.
“He’s dead now,” Cain said. “No need to worry about him.”
Cain would make a terrible therapist. Since he had the emotional range of a wasp, he assumed the rest of us were the same way.
I pulled my wallet out and withdrew the photo tucked inside of my little siblings. My father’s handwriting was on the back, his lean cursive in Latin.Dignus esse.
Be worthy.
It had been a warning for me. If I wasn’t worthy, my siblings would be punished for my failures. But anyone who wasn’t an evil lunatic would assume my father had carried the photo to motivate him to be a good father and man. It would seem as if these cult members had stolen it from my father before they tortured him.
“They’ll believe this is his,” I said, wiping the prints off it. “A souvenir.”
“They do seem like amateurs. So we make it look like two of them killed the other, and hopefully the cops will jump on the idea they were the ones behind your father’s murder. They’ll surely want to close that case.”
We reached the abandoned old church where they were planning to meet. The once-white building’s paint was peeling and the yard was overgrown, green and wild. But three cars were parked in the lot behind the church, where grass peeked out from between old gravel.
“I love churches,” Cain said, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that statement.
The two of us snuck to check the doors of the church. They’d locked themselves in, but I was carrying my lockpicking kit, and I made short work of the lock.
Then we walked into the lobby that smelled of wood rot; through the open doors, I caught a glimpse of boarded-up stained glass windows. There were voices coming from the basement; twin stairs to either side of the lobby led down. Cain gestured for me to take one side and he took the other.
Two men and a woman stood in the church basement, arguing.
