The Blood of Seven by Claire L. Fishback

Author:Claire L. Fishback
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: present day female detective with anxiety with dog, modern day strong female protagonist blood magic, supernatural suspense thriller mystery detective, homicide demon egyptian symbols special child, secret organization child protection small town, mountain town end of days demiurge crazy mother, nag hammadi undead missing persons investigation
Publisher: Dark Doorways Press, LLC
Published: 2019-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

Ann snatched the lid of her dad’s lockbox open and pawed through it before realizing she needed a more methodological approach. She didn’t know what she was looking for, after all, and needed to slow down.

Her high school graduation picture sat right on top. She wore the maroon robe and mortarboard with a gold tassel. Harmony High’s colors. The next day she had left her life in the tiny town behind her—Derrick, her dad, a future of small-town mundanity—and enrolled in the Denver Police Academy. She moved the picture aside.

Next was a small envelope with the RSVP card for her academy graduation. Her dad had checked yes, but he’d never mailed the card. He also didn’t attend.

Under the card were three Lufthansa ticket stubs for flights to Egypt. One of them was dated the day before her academy graduation. A tingle prickled across her scalp.

Three trips to Egypt.

Four.

The stub for his final trip wouldn’t be in this box. She put them aside.

There were three items left. All were folded sheets of paper. The first one was a grid full of letters. A standard tabula recta he probably used to solve the puzzles in the paper. The second was folded in fourths and proved to be the introductory page of an application for an adoption home study. The organization listed at the top was The Protectorate. Their tagline—“Protecting the needs of children everywhere”—appeared beneath their logo.

Ann narrowed her eyes. An adoption agency? Raghib said they were some kind of organization of assassins or something. Not an adoption agency. Even so, why would her dad have an application for an adoption home study? She turned to the last item. The smaller paper was folded in half. Ann unfolded it to reveal a list of names in her dad’s handwriting. Some were crossed out. Ann only recognized the first name.

Louise Marga. Louise’s name had a question mark next to it. Ann stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid.

Behind her on top of a filing cabinet, four handheld radios sat in their chargers. She grabbed two of them and turned them on.

“I need to take care of something,” she said to George. She handed him one of the radios. “I’m guessing these have a long range?”

He nodded. “We can chat from opposite ends of town on these puppies.”

“Good. If anything comes up, call me.” She grabbed her coat and headed out into the chilly late-afternoon.

* * *

Ann drove the station vehicle to Louise’s. She took the porch steps two at a time and knocked on the door. Inside, cats wailed.

Louise opened up after Ann’s third set of pounding knocks, a little out of breath. Her long hair was up in a bun, but a few strands hung in her face, and a sheen of sweat dampened her forehead.

“Ann,” Louise said with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Last time I was here you said to come back,” Ann said with a smile. “Here I am.”

“You really ought to call first. Common courtesy and all.

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