The Cold Road (Book 1)

Chapter Eight

James left the morgue feeling even more under the weather than when he had first walked in. There was so little he knew about cults or religion. He was aware that people believed there was a god and a devil, and knew that some people worshipped either. He was also aware that he did not believe in either. He was more inclined to believe in a devil than a god. Bad things happened all the time, he could count every moment of his life with one, and many others. When it came to counting the good things, he found himself unable to see them. It was a morbid outlook that he had, but to him there were no moments of good, there were just moments where bad things did not happen. It was the pessimistic outlook.

If he could somehow make use of the bad things to make something better, then, he reasoned, there would finally be something good. Until that moment, all he had before him was a case involving a missing girl and some devilish cult no one wanted to believe was real. Whether there was a god or a devil was entirely up to debate for him, but there was no denying that worshippers of both existed.

He frowned again as a thought crossed his mind. He knew now what the note the kidnapper had left meant. The kidnapping and the serial killers were all connected. They had found a pentagram in the woods, and people had reported chanting and various animal cries, but apart from that, there was no real evidence as to what kind of cult it was. It could be anything from Satanic to druidic. What the real question was, was what did they want with Lindsey Perette?

There was a bustle inside the police station, though the staff had decreased by half. Catching the arm of a passing officer, James pulled him to a stop.

'Can you tell me where Inspector Franks' file on Catherine White is? He did a full interview with her yesterday, concerning the murder victim Geoffrey White. I also need every other file we have on her, Paul and Lindsey Perette, and all the ones we have on Rico Belberra.'

'Certainly, Sir. Inspector Franks' file on Catherine White should be in his office. I handed it to him this morning before he went out. The other files should be in records,' the officer said, shifting the weight of paper under his shoulder as he made a quick note on the back of his hand.

'Can you send them to my desk? Oh, and when the forensic report of the Perette's house comes in, send that in too.'

Checking his watch, James walked quickly to his desk. It was mid-afternoon already; the Perette's had not noticed Lindsey was missing until past eight that morning. They were up at six, by which time the kidnapper had already been and gone. The last time the Perette's saw Lindsey was when they said goodnight at 9:30 the night before. That left a large opening of eight and a half hours for someone to break into the house, find Lindsey and take her. All the while their activity masked by the storm. The questions remained, was the storm merely a coincidence or was it part of the plan to wait until one arrived?

Storms were unpredictable. If the kidnapping had been planned, then whoever had broken in knew the Perette's house well enough to know their movements on the night. To be able to walk through a blackened house without bumping into anything was enough of an indicator that they knew the house. It was there that James found himself frowning. If they knew the lay of the house, why was Lindsey's room such a mess? How much of a struggle would it really be to grab a defenceless seven year old?

Officer Litchen entered the office with a stack of files and placed them on James's desk. 'Here are all the files you requested, including a copy of Inspector Franks' interview with the victim's mother. Is there anything else you need?'

'Possibly,' murmured James. Flipping quickly through the files, he scanned the pages for anything that stood out immediately. There were some points that made him stop and reread, committing them to memory before moving on. 'I don't ever remember a child kidnapping ever happening in this town,' he commented absently to the still waiting officer. 'Nor do I ever remember anyone ever disappearing before. I want you to look up for me possible cases in the surrounding areas involving child disappearances. Look for children around the age of seven, both sexes, and dates for when they disappeared, too.'