Friday, April 2
Monica smiled at the assembled team. The only person absent was Alexx, currently in the autopsy bay. "The killer is most likely a white male between the ages of twenty-five and forty. He is either Catholic or he comes from a home where religion was strongly enforced. He is of average to high intelligence and socially competent. He probably follows the news on the case." She paused, something niggling at the back of her mind. She shook her head; the thought was gone.
"Kidnapping the victims well before he kills them suggests that he interacts with them for a period of time. He is an organized killer; the attacks are obviously planned, the victims are selected strangers, the scene reflects control, the weapon is absent and the body is transported from the site of the kill. His mood will be controlled during the murder as he plays out his fantasy."
She frowned, trying to capture her earlier thought. An image of Luke. What did he have to do with this? she wondered.
"The torture and mutilation of the bodies suggest that he craves some kind of control but, if caught, will deny responsibility for his actions. He is a visionary killer; he believes he is called by God to murder or, perhaps, he thinks he is God. He will not stop unless he is caught. He may have had some kind of religious education, perhaps in a seminary—"
Monica stopped, remembering her vision of the body turning to ashes. She let the report fall from her fingers and frowned.
"Monica? What is it?" Calleigh asked.
Monica gave her a strange look. "You saw it too."
"Saw what?"
"Ashes."
Calleigh's breath caught in her throat.
Alexx knocked on the door. "Sorry I'm late. I just wrapped up the autopsy on this morning's victim."
Horatio gestured for her to take a seat.
"Maria Duarte. Cause of death was mass hemorrhaging. I've never seen anything like it. It seems like she was stoned . . ."
"Stoned?" Monica looked up sharply. "Maria . . . Mary. An adulteress' death . . . Mary Magdalene?"
"Monica? What are you thinking?"
"Judy Williams – Judas Iscariot. He betrayed Jesus and Jesus had to wear the crown of thorns. Benita Tomas – Doubting Thomas. He wouldn't believe until he touched the wound in Jesus' side. Jonathan Lazarus – John the Baptist was beheaded. Peter Manning – Peter cut the ear off the soldier. Michael Jameson – James. Jesus was whipped before he was crucified. Mary Magdalene was a prostitute." Monica shook her head. "Why didn't we see it before? That's how he chose them."
Everyone fell silent.
"There's one week left of Lent. Good Friday. I think he's going to crucify his next victim."
"It's Holy Week next week. What if changes his MO and strikes on Palm Sunday?" Eric asked.
"He didn't kill on Ash Wednesday."
Horatio stood. "I don't want the press getting wind of this. You see someone with a camera or a Dictaphone, you run in the opposite direction. If this gets out . . ."
Everyone nodded. Calleigh wanted to ask Monica about her earlier comment, but she was afraid of the answer.
Sunday, April 4
Calleigh walked into the break room and found Monica sitting on a couch, drinking some of Alexx's herbal tea. Calleigh smiled.
"So what did you end up trying?"
"The chamomile. You want some?"
"Don't you start as well!"
The women laughed, then Monica's cellphone rang. "John, thanks for calling back . . . No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to say happy birthday . . ."
Calleigh left Monica and headed upstairs. With the stress of the case, she'd almost forgotten . . .
She knocked on Horatio's door unsurprised to find him there. He smiled.
"Calleigh. Come in."
"I was just thinking, it's someone's birthday soon."
"Not that there's much reason to celebrate these days."
Calleigh shrugged. "I know. Still, I feel like doing something for you. Let me take you to dinner."
"Cal, you don't have to—"
"I want to. You've been so preoccupied lately, and you're always telling me to relax. Come on, it's either dinner with me or a not-so-surprise party with absolutely everyone you know."
Horatio thought for a moment, then nodded. When he spoke, there was a hint of mischief in his tone. "Okay. It's a date."
Monday, April 5
"Monica, can I talk to you?" Calleigh shifted her weight from foot to foot, nervous for a reason she couldn't explain.
"Sure. Is everything okay?"
"Umm, I don't know." Calleigh glanced around to make sure they were alone. "How did you know about the ashes?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I just get these feelings . . . they're usually right. Disturbing, but right. Tell me what happened?"
"I was jogging on the beach and I looked down for a second and . . . Judy Williams' body was there . . . and she turned to ashes right in front of me. And I know the body wasn't really there but I saw it." Calleigh shrugged, embarrassed that she mentioned it.
"It was Peter Manning for me," Monica said, and Calleigh immediately felt less stupid. "At the scene. It's happened a couple of times before. I don't know why. None of the cases are related, as far as I can tell. Unless . . ."
"Unless what?"
Monica shook her head. "Never mind."
"Monica."
Monica stepped closer to Calleigh, her voice low and urgent. "Do you believe in demons?"
"Umm, I guess so. I don't know. I'm not all that spiritual."
Monica closed her eyes and in that moment she looked incredibly sad. "I have a very bad feeling about this case."
Calleigh was silent, then, "I've been having strange dreams. I never thought they meant anything but . . . there's this shape in it and I'm not sure what the shape wants . . . I think it's me but I don't know . . . you were there. Horatio too. It killed both of you. I don't know why I'm telling you this. I just . . . I don't know."
"Describe the shape."
Calleigh closed her eyes. "I don't know. It's very vague. More a feeling than anything else."
When she opened her eyes again, she regretted having said anything. Monica looked terrified.
"Mon?"
"I have to go look something up." She started to leave, then turned back. "Calleigh, be careful."
Tuesday, April 6
"Calleigh!"
She stopped at the glass doors leading outside and smiled. Then she turned, one hand on her hip. "Yes, Horatio?"
He waited until he was at her side before he spoke again. "Let me walk you out."
"Alright."
As they made their way down the steps, she felt Horatio's hand at the small of her back.
"I'm looking forward to tomorrow night."
She smiled. "Glad to hear that."
They reached her car and he paused, uncharacteristically nervous. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about then, if that's okay."
Calleigh touched her palm to Horatio's cheek and nodded. Her smile had softened considerably. He lowered his head to hers. She arched her neck, her lips parted in expectation.
Someone honked in the street. The spell was broken. Calleigh dropped her hand and focused her eyes on Horatio's shirt.
"Until tomorrow, then," she said.
"'Til tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Cal."
Wednesday, April 7
Calleigh scanned her CD collection for music to get her in the mood for dinner with Horatio. Her date with Horatio, she thought happily, and not just any CD would do. She moved on to her collection of movie soundtracks, and found what she was looking for: 'A Walk to Remember'. She put it in her hi-fi and returned to the bedroom.
"I'm learning to breathe," she sang along, "I'm learning to crawl. I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall. I'm living again, awake and alive . . ."
She held up a black dress and tilted her head in consideration; Horatio had said she looked good in black . . .
Calleigh let the dress fall to the floor, her attention caught by what was in the mirror. Herself. In ashes. In that split-second she knew something was wrong. She pulled on a bathrobe and picked up her gun. She took a deep breath and stepped into the living room.
It was unnaturally cold. And all of a sudden he was there, in front of her, a look of pure anger on his face. Calleigh raised her gun.
"Don't come any closer."
"I was wrong. You're not the right Mary. You're Mary Magdalene. You're his whore."
"Stay right where you are!"
He smiled and raised his arm. Calleigh fired. The bullet struck him in the chest. He laughed and moved forward. Calleigh fired again and again and again until her clip was empty. She blinked and he was gone. Then he grabbed her and pressed a cloth to her mouth. She tried to fight but the chloroform took effect quickly.
As she drifted into darkness, she saw the shape from her dreams hovering at the edge of her vision, and then she knew nothing.
Calleigh's phone rang and rang and rang and then, "Hi, this is Calleigh. I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back."
"Cal, it's Horatio. Are you there? . . . Please, pick up if you're there . . . You're not answering your cellphone and I'm worried . . . Uh, just call me when you get this, okay?"
Later, "Me again. Uh, look, please just call me. I'm getting worried."
Later still, "Calleigh? Look, I'm coming over."
Calleigh's door was wide open when Horatio arrived. He could smell the gunpowder and immediately drew his weapon. He saw Calleigh's gun lying on the living room carpet, saw the shells, felt his heart drop. He moved into the bedroom and froze. Calleigh stood in front of the mirror, holding up a black dress. He watched her turn to ashes then disappear completely.
Monica was the first person he called.
"It isn't him," Horatio said. "Calleigh's not Catholic, her name isn't biblical. It isn't him."
It couldn't be him, Horatio thought. If their killer had Calleigh . . .
"Her middle name's Marie," Alexx said.
Monica was uncomfortable in Calleigh's apartment. She looked around, constantly alert. If Horatio weren't so worried, he'd find it amusing.
"Mary . . . Calleigh said she was having strange dreams." Monica sank to her haunches and picked up one of the shells. "If she fired her gun, what was she shooting at?"
"She's an excellent shot. If she was aiming for someone, she would have hit him."
"But there's no blood." Monica rose and shivered. "I was wrong. This is an X-File."
"You're saying that whoever has her isn't human?" Horatio couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it.
"No. He's human. I think he's . . . possessed. It would explain the shape from her dream, the ashes . . ." Monica crossed to the wall and ran a gloved hand over the bullet holes. "She shot at what she saw, but what she saw wasn't necessarily where she saw it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Astral projection. You've heard of it, I'm sure. The—"
Horatio shook his head in disbelief. "Please explain the ashes."
"Both Calleigh and I saw bodies turn to ashes. I've seen it before too, a couple of years ago."
Horatio sat; his knees strangely weak. "I saw her in the bedroom earlier. It was just my imagination. It had to be my imagination."
Alexx drew Monica to one side. "Do you still think he plans to crucify her?"
Monica nodded.
"Then we have less than thirty-six hours to find her."
End part six.