Bones Of Contention: The McKinnon Legends - The American Men Book 3 by Ranay James Page B
Authors: Ranay James
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confidential trying to keep Jamie out of the media spotlight per her request. Unfortunately, someone leaked her identity to
National Intrigue
, a grocery store rag, which thrust her into the national spotlight.
She had not gotten a moment’s peace since the positive identification of her friend. Her phone ringing off the hook, in spite of her unlisted number, kept her awake through the subsequent nights following Sherriff McKinnon walking through her office door. She had finally resorted to taking the phone off the hook.
It was big news, and the first couple of days dozens of reporters hounded her every waking moment and much of her nights, too. Her yard was a muddy quagmire where the reporters had trampled what little grass she had managed to coax to life before fall had set in. City police had managed to ticket most for trespassing, forcing them to move to other more public places to harass her.
Debbie appeared to be the forth victim attributed to a string of bizarre killings which started in the fall of 2004 and abruptly ended in the spring of 2005. The cloud of fear and terror which had hung heavily over the college town of Lubbock, Texas, eventually dissipated as weeks and then months went past without another victim. Now, interest was renewed in the four brutal unsolved murders in which all of the victims were missing the same body parts. “Trophies” as Josh called them.
The reporter caught her outside the science building and cornered her next to her car. The interview was quick. They always were. Her attorney, at Josh’s insistence, had coached her on exactly what to say, and, just as importantly, what not to say concerning the ongoing investigation.
Why they persisted was beyond her, and after more than a week she was still receiving no less than a dozen requests per day for exclusive interviews. Eventually there would be something more interesting to capture the attention of the news media. Unfortunately, it had been a very slow week in the news.
Chapter 7
Impossible, VanDarious thought as he watched the evening entertainment news.
He instantly recognized Jamie standing just outside the science building at the university. How could his plan have gone so wrong? He had made sure to catch her that night beside her car.
He pulled his hair in anger, clearing off the side table in one angry swipe of his arm. Storming to his bedroom, he cautiously pulled a case down from the top shelf of the closet. Laying it on the bed, he unlocked the combination lock and was careful opening it so as not to break the contents.
Pulling out the last jar in the row of four, he jerked the label off tossing it aside. This jar did not contain the heart and the seventh, last true rib of Jamie Gillman.
The Williams girl was an interloper.
She was unfit for the final sacrifice, explaining why the key she had worn around her neck for safe keeping would not open the door to his true home in the fourth dimension.
This woman dared to pass herself off as someone worthy of sacrifice to the goddess of the Sidhe Peoples. He would have to start all over again, and this time he would not make the same mistake. Now, he knew where the doctor worked and soon would know where she lived.
He had to start over, but what did he care? He had lived in this God forsaken world since long before the coming of the Christian messiah. He had seen prophets come and go and come again. He had lived here long enough to see the rise and fall of all the great empires. What was another month or even a year? He had learned patience by force, if not by choice.
Only this time, he would fight the forces with a vengeance. Perhaps the single sacrifice he presented five years ago for each phase of the moon had not been enough to gain repentance and favor of the Goddess Sanguine, or Jamie must have masked herself using some unknown magic to thrust her image onto an innocent woman. That was the only explanation for his mistaking the Williams woman for his true
National Intrigue
, a grocery store rag, which thrust her into the national spotlight.
She had not gotten a moment’s peace since the positive identification of her friend. Her phone ringing off the hook, in spite of her unlisted number, kept her awake through the subsequent nights following Sherriff McKinnon walking through her office door. She had finally resorted to taking the phone off the hook.
It was big news, and the first couple of days dozens of reporters hounded her every waking moment and much of her nights, too. Her yard was a muddy quagmire where the reporters had trampled what little grass she had managed to coax to life before fall had set in. City police had managed to ticket most for trespassing, forcing them to move to other more public places to harass her.
Debbie appeared to be the forth victim attributed to a string of bizarre killings which started in the fall of 2004 and abruptly ended in the spring of 2005. The cloud of fear and terror which had hung heavily over the college town of Lubbock, Texas, eventually dissipated as weeks and then months went past without another victim. Now, interest was renewed in the four brutal unsolved murders in which all of the victims were missing the same body parts. “Trophies” as Josh called them.
The reporter caught her outside the science building and cornered her next to her car. The interview was quick. They always were. Her attorney, at Josh’s insistence, had coached her on exactly what to say, and, just as importantly, what not to say concerning the ongoing investigation.
Why they persisted was beyond her, and after more than a week she was still receiving no less than a dozen requests per day for exclusive interviews. Eventually there would be something more interesting to capture the attention of the news media. Unfortunately, it had been a very slow week in the news.
Chapter 7
Impossible, VanDarious thought as he watched the evening entertainment news.
He instantly recognized Jamie standing just outside the science building at the university. How could his plan have gone so wrong? He had made sure to catch her that night beside her car.
He pulled his hair in anger, clearing off the side table in one angry swipe of his arm. Storming to his bedroom, he cautiously pulled a case down from the top shelf of the closet. Laying it on the bed, he unlocked the combination lock and was careful opening it so as not to break the contents.
Pulling out the last jar in the row of four, he jerked the label off tossing it aside. This jar did not contain the heart and the seventh, last true rib of Jamie Gillman.
The Williams girl was an interloper.
She was unfit for the final sacrifice, explaining why the key she had worn around her neck for safe keeping would not open the door to his true home in the fourth dimension.
This woman dared to pass herself off as someone worthy of sacrifice to the goddess of the Sidhe Peoples. He would have to start all over again, and this time he would not make the same mistake. Now, he knew where the doctor worked and soon would know where she lived.
He had to start over, but what did he care? He had lived in this God forsaken world since long before the coming of the Christian messiah. He had seen prophets come and go and come again. He had lived here long enough to see the rise and fall of all the great empires. What was another month or even a year? He had learned patience by force, if not by choice.
Only this time, he would fight the forces with a vengeance. Perhaps the single sacrifice he presented five years ago for each phase of the moon had not been enough to gain repentance and favor of the Goddess Sanguine, or Jamie must have masked herself using some unknown magic to thrust her image onto an innocent woman. That was the only explanation for his mistaking the Williams woman for his true
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