Angels of Vengeance: The Furies, Book 1 Page 6

Dan found himself sitting at the kitchen table as the sun was trying to burn off the heavy mist of morning. A plate of uneaten fried eggs was on a plate. Another smaller plate held scrambled eggs and Dude was hunched over it, eating peacefully.

  Dan just stared at his plate, then looked at the cat. "I know you saw that too, Dude."

  He rubbed at his face again; then looked at an empty scotch bottle. Wearily, he laid his head down on the table, and in moments, he was snoring lightly.

  Dude watched him a moment, then moved to Dan's plate and started nibbling on the fried egg.

  CHAPTER SIX

  San Marin

  The early morning mist nestled against the grass along the greenbelt that wound its way through the west side of town. A jogging trail ran along a stand of elm and ponderosa pines, with an occasional maple thrown in to break up the monotony.

  This morning, a lone jogger was out slowly jogging along the worn dirt path. Brad Henderson chose the hours right after dawn for his runs. Most people who used the trail were noon and afternoon joggers. He preferred the trail to himself, just plodded along, breathing deeply of the misty air, peace and quiet.

  Brad stopped a moment to down some water. While drinking, a gathering of crows caught his attention at the edge of the tree line. It briefly went through his mind that a flock of crows was called a "murder". He pondered how many crows would it take to be considered a murder, and if fewer made it just "attempted murder".

  These crows were making quite a racket now. Flying away from the trees and flying back, yelling at each other.

  Brad stopped drinking and looked into the dark tree line. Movement in the trees caught his attention. Something light appeared to be waving. He decided to see what all the noise was about, so he walked to the edge of the trees.

  The crows scattered as he walked closer, all of the huge black birds voicing their displeasure at Brad's approach.

  He stopped and stared. The movement turned out to be bright fabric gently billowing in the morning breeze. Then he saw that it was a ripped beige dress moving in the breeze, on a body with the flesh ripped and cut, head hanging down. The crows were trying to get at the flesh hanging from the body.

  He fumbled to find his cell phone and dropped his water bottle trying to get the call screen. He was shaking as he dialed. "Hello? No, I don't know who I need. There's a body. Yeah, she's dead. Oh, dear god, she's dead."

  ***

  Dan was still napping with his head on his kitchen table. Meanwhile, Dude was finishing up the egg in his plate. One last lick and it was time to groom. Starting with his face, he began grooming hard, slurping as he licked his forepaw.

  Dan's cell phone began to buzz. The landline phone started to ring as well. Dan's head snapped up and he glanced around. He looked at the cell phone; then decided to answer it. Whoever was calling his landline could leave a message.

  He slid his finger to the side. "Yeah. Jones? Yeah. What? Look, you better be fucking sure on that. No, you can't guess. OK, wait for me. No, wait! I'll be there in fifteen or so."

  The landline started ringing again, but he let it go as he jogged down the hallway to his room, grabbing a shirt and looking for his shoes.

  ***

  Dan drove to the greenbelt park in the cruiser. He used his light, but no siren. He just hit it a few times to get past the usual morning blockages caused by distracted commuters.

  He sat in the car for a few minutes. The techs had the area cordoned off, and a crime scene tent was already erected at the end of the tree line. Jones was talking to an older woman. Sandra McKenna was a pleasant woman in her mid-forties. Her jacket read "CORONER" stenciled on the back. She had her hands on her hips, head cocked as she studied the corpse. She examined the deceased's face again.

  "It's the nastiest piece of work I've ever seen. Not even in text books," Sandra said, making notes.

  "Eyes missing. This dude's therapist isn't doing their job."

  "Always the critic," she shot back. She peered closer at one symbol on the body's chest. "What's with the writing? That's over the top bizarre. Looks like something out of a role-playing game."

  "Hell, if I know." Jones shrugged. He stepped back and bit and looked out at the jogging path. "You know? This, right here, is why I don't go for runs in the morning. It's always the morning joggers who find dead folks."

  Sandra sized Jones up a moment. "Neither do I, but for different reasons."

  Jones continued to look around. He spotted Dan still sitting in the cruiser. "Well, here we go."

  "Need help?" Sandra asked.

  "Nah, I got this."

  Dan was climbing sluggishly out of the car when Jones walked up.

  "You didn't wait," Dan observed as Jones met him halfway to the tent.

  "They were already rolling after the call came in. I called you as soon as I got here and saw who it was. Man, I hate to be the one to ask..." Jones stopped when he saw the look in his partner's eyes.

  "I know. Need a relative to identify the body."

  "You okay about this? It's not good. Dan." Jones looked back to the crime scene. Then added, "Her eyes are missing."

  Dan pulled up short, he tried to swallow, his throat suddenly dry. He looked down at the wet grass at his feet and admitted, silently, almost to himself, "I know. I know."

  Dan shook his head, then continued to the scene. Jones held back the flap to let Dan inside. As Dan stepped in, his breath caught, then he went into homicide cop mode. His eyes scanned the scene: Throat cut open, symbols cut in the flesh above the eyebrows, both cheeks and several symbols carved in the chest, between her breasts. Massive bleeding in all cuts. Dan took several deep breaths.

  "Any signs of... Signs of..." He closed his eyes. When he did, he was taken back to that encounter in his bathroom, the face, the yawning mouth, the symbols carved on her face. He vaguely heard a hoarse whisper.

  "Dan?" Jones asked. Dan's eyes snapped open.

  "We won't know until later. I'll do a thorough autopsy," Sandra explained. "You can confirm the identity?"

  "Yes. It's my niece, Brianna Oberon." Dan turned around and began breathing through his mouth.

  "Chad and Beth's kid? Want one of us to make the call?" Sandra put a hand softly on Dan's forearm.

  "What? Oh hell no. I'll do it. In person." With that, Dan stepped away from the tent and into the morning air.

  He looked up. The morning mist was clearing off. It was going to be a typical sunny day, but only weather-wise.

  Jones followed Dan, watching him closely.

  Dan swallowed. "OK, so. Where are we at?"

  "Dan, buddy," Jones said quietly. "You can't be in on this. It's too close to you."

  "Goddammit, Jones. Let me know what's going on." Dan started pacing in a circle, along the jogging path. Jones began following, he was used to Dan's habit of pacing.

  "Okay. I have a team out canvassing the area." Jones stopped to consult a small notepad. He read and continued, "I called her roommate. Said she left the party with some tall, blond guy."

  "What? My God, why didn't they stop her?"

  "They were pretty drunk. Bree was also seen to be sick in the front yard as they left." Jones consulted his notebook and turned a page. "Her roommate, Adrienne Samuels, stated that she can't remember anything about what the guy looked like, except to say he had intense romantic green eyes."

  "Wonderful. How many men have green eyes in this area?"

  "Can't be more than a few hundred, a thousand at most," Jones said softly.

  Dan halted and looked back to where he had parked. A few cars and a TV news van had arrived. "Jesus. The vultures are gathering."

  "It's their job," Jones reminded him.

  "Yeah, but still. Always pushing themselves in the way, asking stupid questions," Dan was getting angrier as he spoke. "Take care of those people, lock this down, no photos, no video, and no information. Nothing goes out until I say so. I'll be at my sister's house, then back to the office."

  Jones snapped his notep
ad shut and watched Dan march off.

  A reporter tried to head Dan off. It was Dan Hathaway, a stocky man in his 30s, known as a pushy, arrogant reporter. Dan held up a hand, trying to stop the reporter's approach.

  "Stay away, stay back on the road or I'll have you charged with interfering with a police investigation." Dan stepped up into the man's face. Hathaway wasn't backing down.

  "We have a right to know what happens, pal," he yelled.

  Jones appeared just in time to pull Dan back from the other man. Dan shook him off and walked to the cruiser. Jones turned to Hathaway, "Man, we'll have a statement later. Don't ever get in the Lieutenant's face like that again. I won't be around to stop him next time."

  "Why's he such an asshole?"

  "Why are you such a douche bag?" Jones grinned. "Wait for the P.I.O., stay back on the road. Otherwise, I get to arrest you."

  ***

  Dan had parked on a heavily wooded street, under a tall elm. There was movement by the unmarked police car. Gaia appeared, dressed in a sleek business suit, her hair neatly styled and dark, with a subtle streak of gray hair off her forehead. She leaned her hip against the car and looked towards a comfortable ranch house, shaded by large elms and maples.

  Inside, Dan was consoling his sister, Beth. She was a thin woman; dark hair with highlights, her soft face streaked with tears, her eyes red. Her husband, Chad, was a small framed man in his 40s. He had slumped into the couch, his hands covering his lugubrious face, his eyes staring into the distance.

  Beth started to walk her brother to the door. She stopped, turned to Dan, and choked back tears. "What's next?"

  "I have no idea. Sandra will release her as soon as she's finished. Who takes her from there?" Dan had nothing left to say. He rubbed his face, his eyes red.

  Beth turned to her husband. "Chad? Any ideas?"

  Chad just started shaking his head, unable to speak.

  "We don't know." Beth turned back to her brother, then added, "It was never anything we'd ever thought about. Maybe that place that handled dad. Are they still around?"

  "I remember. It's a place called Moores and Sons. On Johnson Street," Chad finally managed.

  Dan reach to open the door, then stopped. "I'll make sure we get her released later today. I'll be at the office late, if you need anything."

  "Thank you." Beth stood in the doorway, then embraced her brother, gripping his shirt tightly. "I'm glad it was you and not some strange cop."

  He patted her shoulder a few times, then reluctantly walked down the sidewalk to the car.

  As he started to unlock the door, Gaia moved from the shadows and looked at Dan. She cleared her throat, "Excuse me."

  Dan jumped, startled. "Jesus! I swear, you people are a bunch of goddamned vultures." He put his hands on his hips.

  "You are Dan Lanahan?" Gaia interrupted.

  "Yes, but I'm not talking to the press, and that means you, lady." Dan pushed past Gaia and stood by the driver's door. "Wait for the official statement."

  "I'm not a journalist."

  "I don't care who you are, show some respect and give the family some goddamned time." Dan turned to unlock his cruiser.

  "We need to talk, and talk now."

  Dan froze, then spun towards Gaia, his anger rising. "We don't need to do anything. I need to get back to my office. Now, stand aside."

  "You saw that poor girl last night," Gaia stated, her tone was matter of fact.

  Dan wheeled in anger. "How the hell do you know that? Are you one of those stupid mind readers, you think you know who killed her?"

  "We need to talk, Dan."

  "Like hell. Leave me, leave my sister alone, leave us all alone, dammit!" He turned his back on Gaia. "Whoever the fuck you are, I have nothing to say."

  Dan waited a moment, then turned back around to confront the woman.

  She was gone. No footsteps leaving, no vehicle nearby.

  Dan was too distracted to care. He roared off down the street.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was evening. Dan had polished off another takeout container of fried rice. Dude had his usual lo mein noodles. After dinner, Dan had relaxed into the old comfort of his recliner; a pile of folders was open on his lap. He stopped reading and rubbed his weary eyes. Anything to stay busy, not to think.

  He glanced to the couch. Dude was snoring, spread out on his back and with his mouth open. The cat's sleep was interrupted and he jerked awake. He sat up with an ear cocked. Dan watched as Dude leapt to the floor and trotted into the hallway.

  Dan got up when he heard Dude begin to hiss and growl.

  "Not again," he groaned. He paused and peered down the hallway. He snapped on the light in the hallway. Dude was crouched in front of the closet, his ears were flattened on his head, his tail was sweeping back and forth.

  Dan slowly approached the door. Dude continued to growl and hiss. His hand grasped the antique glass knob and he hesitated. What would he find? Another apparition? He took a deep breath and twisted the knob. He gently pulled.

  The door opened and a clatter filled the hallway as boxes, old shopping bags and some tennis shoes fell onto the floor. Dude was now grooming his face as the mess hit the floor.

  "Now you're just fucking with me, asshole." Dan grumbled as he started collecting the junk, shoving it back into the closet. Dude stopped the grooming, looking intently to the hallway behind Dan.

  Gaia had appeared behind Dan, watching him closely. Dan turned and froze as he was shutting the closet.

  "We talk now," Gaia stated flatly, and swept into the living room, followed by Dude.

  "Mind telling me how the hell you got into my house, lady?" Dan was incensed at her intrusion. "Hey! I'm talking to you, lady!"

  Dan stormed after them into the living room. Gaia sat primly on the couch and Dude leapt into her lap. Gaia looked almost the same as that afternoon, but she was in a plain brown dress. She crossed her legs and began scratching Dude behind the ears. His purr was loud enough to be heard across the room, his eyes closed in pure bliss.

  Gaia addressed Dan in a school teacher tone of voice. "Dan, do you have any idea what happens to a murder victim if the murdered escapes justice?"

  Dan held his ground in the living room, arms folder. "No, not at all. What the hell are you doing in my house?"

  "Okay. Just calm down. I'm harmless. Mostly," Gaia smiled disarmingly. She then took in the whole room, and her eyes stopped on a photo of a woman dressed in older clothes. The frame also had a set of dark rosary beads draped over it. "Not a bit of curiosity? None? Amazing. Not even to wonder if we survive death?"

  "Nope. That's a contradiction in terms, lady."

  "With many murders, the one who dies is taken across the veil, so to speak, and that's all there is to it," Gaia explained. "In some cases, the poor thing is left to wander the earth until their murderer is dealt with in our terms."

  "Like prison?"

  "No, the culprit must die, only then is the soul released to continue its journey."

  "So, how do you fit into all this?" Dan sat in his recliner, not taking his eyes off Gaia.

  "Okay. Let's start at the beginning. How's your mythology, Greek and Roman. Ever hear of the Erinyes? The Furies?"

  "Nope, can't say I ever have." Dan shook his head, he was beginning to grow tired of the school teacher act.

  "Shame. Every god who was ever worshipped actually existed. All of them. No matter how minor, we all still endure in some form or another. Including the Furies. You've already met a Fury. My daughter, Megaera. At the grocery store? Surely you remember her. She's my youngest, if you can call her that."

  "Her, I remember," Dan said, softening. The memory of Megaera flooded into his mind, except it wasn't what had happened earlier.

  ***

  Megaera

  Megaera's hand slapped the edge of the cliff, and gripped the dirt as she pulled herself up. Her face was a mask of anger, her eyes flashed red.

  A thin man, hipster type sporting a wispy
beard, dirty blond hair in a "man bun," Chaz Riddell stood back from the edge of the cliff. He backed up when Megaera pulled herself up.

  She was in a tight-fitting, tan hiking outfit. She was breathing hard and gave the man a cold look.

  A look so cold, it could freeze hydrogen.

  "Run all you want, but this ends now, today, right here." Less a statement and more an animal growl.

  "I didn't do anything!" He protested. Megaera's eyes bored a hole into the man's skull.

  He saw his mother, as she was years ago, yelling at him and holding onto the controller to his game console.

  "No, no... no... She fell, it was an accident!" Chaz protested. He saw his mother wheeling backwards and out an open window. He saw his own hand pushing her. Her broken body seven floors down from the window.

  "You're forgetting about the part where you pushed her." Meg's wings unfurled. Chaz's eyes went wide. He stripped off his backpack, threw it at Megaera and turned to run.

  Chaz's feet slapped the dirt as he ran past small cacti and tumbleweeds. Panic makes one run.

  Megaera stood holding his backpack. "This has gone on long enough."

  "Stay away from me!" Chaz cried, looking around in panic.

  "Not going to happen."

  Chaz ran carefully to keep from going over the cliff. He was right along the rocky edge, the valley a long, long way below.

  Megaera tossed the backpack, it hit Chaz between the shoulder blades, causing him to trip on a clump of prairie grass. He fell flat on his face, the air leaving his body in a huge exhalation. He struggled to catch his breath and to push himself up.

  Megaera was over him and grabbed him by his man-bun. She twisted painfully, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

  "Okay, so I've had enough running for one day. Now, are you going to run off the cliff like a good boy, or do I have to help?" She twisted the man-bun hard and ripped it off the back of his head. He let out a yowl that echoed across the desert.

  "Jesus! Fuck off, bitch!"

  "Ooo. Wrong answer." She grasped Chaz by his biceps and "frog-marched" him to the edge of the cliff as fast as he could run, then she released him. His arms pin-wheeling as he dropped. Megaera watched as the figure grew smaller and smaller. There was a small puff of dust as he hit, the noise following in a few seconds. It was quite a long drop.