Chapter 1 – And The Mighty Will Fall

"You promised you'd take me to the beach today!"

Angela let out a soft sigh before turning to face her daughter. It was a shame that she was seldom able to keep her promises, even more so when it came to Charlotte.

However, she had a couple of wealthy clients to meet in the morning; then she had to call Sac PD to see if they needed another reading on the Red John case. As likely as not she would have to drive all the way to Sacramento, and would probably be gone for a couple of days.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Mommy is very busy right now, but I'm sure that Daddy will be happy to come with you instead."

The little girl looked away and fled the room. Angela bit her lip when she felt her husband's reproachful eyes on her, she knew that she should be spending more time with their daughter but she really had a hard time fitting her in between all of her appointments.

"You will take her to the beach, right?" she almost pleaded.

"Of course I will," he huffed. "That's not the point though."

"I just need a bit more time. Once the Red John case is closed, I will take her wherever she wants."

"She doesn't want to go anywhere. All she'd like to have is some time with her Mom."

"It's easy for you to talk. I'm the one who keeps this roof over our heads and food on the table, if I don't do the work, we could lose everything."

Patrick grimaced slightly, and she instantly regretted her words. It was hard enough for him to admit that his magic act would never be enough for them to get by; after all, it wasn't his fault if people were more interested in psychics than in simple magicians these days.

"I'm sorry," she repeated for what felt the umpteenth time. "It's this consulting thing with the police that gets on my nerves. I can't wait for it to be over and done with."

"You shouldn't meddle with a serial killer. It's dangerous, and you know it."

"I'm helping the cops to catch him. What's wrong with that?"

"I have a bad feeling about this whole business."

She closed the distance between them and placed a soothing kiss on his lips. "What about your there's no such thing as psychics? You're definitely talking like one now."

Her husband shook his head. "Be careful, Angie."

However, she only smiled as she left the room.

xxx

"I wish you wouldn't go."

His wife was staring at her reflection in the mirror, her head tilted to one side in order to better appreciate the sparkle of the dangly earrings she was wearing. She surely was beautiful, but he simply couldn't bring himself to appreciate the fact tonight.

"It's just a TV show, and they're paying good money for my appearance," she replied in a lighthearted tone. "Then I can afford to take a break from work and spend more time as a family."

Patrick took a step closer and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You should think twice before attracting a serial killer's attention. It's a dangerous game, someone might get hurt in the process."

Truth be told, he was growing more and more worried about this whole business with every passing moment. And it didn't matter that he'd already agreed to escort her to the interview, he still hoped she would change her mind about it.

"Let's go. We're going to be late."

Angela barely seemed to notice the resigned look on his face; she only adjusted his tie and wandered off in search of their daughter.

"You're going to be a good girl, aren't you?" he heard her ask from the threshold of Charlotte's room.

The little girl nodded meekly, her eyes wide with wonder at her mother's attire. "You look like a princess, Mommy!"

She didn't complain this time, as Angela dropped a kiss on top of her head and made to leave. Then she threw her slender arms around her father's neck.

"Sweet dreams, Precious."

Charlotte's smile followed him all the way to the car, and he blew her a kiss before finally getting in. The babysitter would take good care of her, but he still hated to be parted from his daughter even for a few hours.

He simply couldn't wait to be home again.

xxx

The house was dark and silent as she shut the front door and made for the stairs. Patrick had sneaked to the living room for a belated cup of tea, but she was way too tired to keep him company this time.

It didn't help that her husband hadn't uttered a word the whole drive back. He still didn't approve of what she'd done, only was too polite to argue over it again.

In the half-light she saw a note taped to the bedroom door; it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for the babysitter to leave one when she knew they would come home to find Charlotte already asleep. However, this one was typed instead of handwritten, and a shiver ran down her spine while a sense of foreboding swept over her.

Dear Mrs. Jane – that was how the note began, and she didn't stop to read the rest. Her hand trembled on the doorknob as she turned it, her eyes widened with fear when an ominous face smiled back at her from the opposite wall.

Then her gaze landed on the bed, where the butchered body of her daughter laid among bloodstained sheets. And her toenails were painted in red.

After that everything was a blur. Angela was vaguely aware of someone screaming; whether it was her or someone else, she just couldn't say. The world started spinning around her, crimson shadows reaching for her like pursuing Furies.

She dropped to her knees, shaking Charlotte's limp body with desperate fingers. The little girl didn't stir, her skin ice cold and her blood as sticky as strawberry jam.

Merciful darkness swallowed her at long last, and her eyes saw no more.