The Serpent's Kiss

28

Jill and Michael Church pulled up in front of Rebecca Harrington’s Ferndale house. Jill sighed, “Thank God.”

“What?”

Jill looked at her son. “The Ferndale police aren’t here. I was afraid—”

”Mom? What’s going on?”

She frowned. “I can’t talk now, Michael. Please stay right here. I have to go in that house.”

“Mom—”

”Stay!” she said, climbing out of the car. She hurried up the steps to the front door. She paused, looking around. Michael was slumped behind the wheel, glaring at her. Lord, what a mess! she thought.

The front door was unlocked. She opened it and stepped in. Derek had said Rebecca Harrington was upstairs. But it was bad procedure to not secure the house, so she did a quick recon of the main floor and slipped into the basement to make sure she had the house to herself. Then she went to the second floor and found the body of Rebecca Harrington. She studied the scene for a moment. Rebecca Harrington had not died easily. And it had been a horrible way to die, she thought, suffocating like that. The woman’s eyes were wide open, the whites speckled with pinpoints of blood. Her face, strained in agony, rigid in death, also had red spots, called petechiae.

“Who did this to you?” she murmured.

She scanned the room, wondering if Derek had found anything here and taken it with him. He was a menace and she was getting angry with him. There was a way to do these things. A proper, procedural way to handle cases.

A tiny, quiet voice in the back of her mind said: his only priority is stopping the next attack. That’s all.

“Mom?”

She spun, letting out a gasp. “Michael! What are you doing here? I told you—”

He stood in the doorway, staring past her at Rebecca Harrington.

She rushed over and spun him around. Her tone was gentle. “Go back to the car. I have to call the Ferndale Police. Please, Michael.”

“She’s… dead.”

“Yes. Go on, Michael. Please. Wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He seemed to float as he left. She pressed her palms to her forehead. Then she took out her phone and got hold of the Ferndale P.D. She also called the office and asked for a crime scene specialist be sent to supervise the local police. Then she went back to talk to Michael.

He was leaning against his car. She gave him a hug and was surprised when he hugged her back. He said, “Who would do something like that?”

“A very bad man, Michael. Probably The Serpent.”

“Did… did he torture her? She suffocated, right?”

Jill doubted if there was an innocent sixteen-year-old in the country, what with all the exposure to the world on TV, movies and the Internet. Still, seeing a murder victim was traumatic, not just the first time, but hopefully every time. It wasn’t something one wanted to get accustomed to.

Keeping her voice level, she said, “The police are going to question you now. They’re going to give both of us a hard time about why you went in there and why I let you.” She paused. “They’re going to give me a lot of… oh hell, Michael, they’re going to give me a lot of shit about even having you along. It’s going to make me look like some sort of amateur. They’re going to separate us, or try to. I might be able to control that because you’re a minor, but if they do, either way, you have to tell the truth. Understand? You have to tell them exactly what you did and why. Don’t lie. Tell the truth.”

“Am… am I going to be arrested?”

She smiled. “No, Michael. But it might be unpleasant. But you’re smart and you’re level-headed. Don’t be cute or tricky or be a smart-ass. This isn’t the time for that. Answer clearly and to the point. Only answer what they ask. Don’t volunteer information and don’t add to what they ask for. Don’t clarify unless they ask for a clarification. Understand? Just tell them what they want.”

He nodded, a short head bob.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked. “That was… that was pretty bad up there.”

He swallowed hard. “The Serpent did that?”

“Probably.”

“What does he want?”

She sighed. “He’s making ransom demands. Maybe it’s about money.”

“But her…”

She thought for a moment. “Michael, if I tell you this, then you’re going to have to tell the Ferndale cops when they ask you. This way, if I don’t tell you, then you can just say you don’t know. They may ask you a dozen different ways why she was killed and all you can say in all honesty is, ‘I don’t know. I think it has something to do with The Serpent.’ It’s better for you. It’s better for me. It’s better for the case. Understand? I can tell them what I need to tell them because I’m an agent. I can decide what they are qualified to hear. But you need to tell them the truth. So I’m not going to tell you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she raised her hand. “I’m not going to tell you now, Michael. But when we’re done with the police, I will tell you. I’ll tell you as much as I can. All right?”

He stared at her.

She held out her hand. “Deal?”

His expression was hard to read. A complicated range of emotions flitted across his face. Then he shook her hand. “Deal,” he said.