Page 28 of Forever Dark
“Post-mortem body manipulation is heavily connected to feelings of power,” Selena said, handing the phone back.“The killer has power over the victim in death in a way that he didn’t in life.Could imply psychological or physical impotence on his part.”
Connor nodded.Her words didn’t seem to impress him as she thought they would.That annoyed her even more.
Her flashlight beam drifted across the floorboards, then to the back of the loft where old furniture had been shoved against the wall.A narrow cabinet, maybe once used for music or vestments, sat crooked on one leg.Beneath it, at the edge where shadow pooled, something interrupted the grime.
Selena moved closer.
A mark on the floor.
Not a footprint.Not obvious.There was no forensics card by it.
It was a clean line where pressure had been, with older dust disturbed differently around it.
She crouched and took gloves from her pocket, snapping them on before touching the wood near the base.Her fingertips traced the edge of the mark.Recently shifted.Not by much, but enough.
Selena looked up.“You said the forensics team was thorough?”
Connor’s expression hardened on instinct.“Well, I think so, but we don’t deal with things like this very often.Well… ever, really.”
Dissatisfaction must have crossed her face before she could hide it.
Connor’s voice cooled.“We don’t all have the resources of the FBI, Selena.We’re doing our best.”
Selena stood without responding to that.“This has been moved.Help me with it.”
He stepped forward, reached for the cabinet, then stopped when she held up a hand.
“Gloves.”
Connor looked down at his empty hands.“I don’t have any on me.”
Selena pulled an extra pair from her pocket and handed them over.
A flicker crossed his face.Pride, annoyance, something else.Then he put them on without argument.
They each took one side.
“Easy,” Selena said.“Straight back.”
The cabinet scraped over the boards with a low grinding sound that set her teeth on edge.Dust puffed up from beneath it.Something dead and dry rolled away in the corner, maybe an insect husk, maybe a fragment of old debris.
Then the wall behind it came fully into view.
Connor went still.
Two vertical lines had been drawn there in dried blood.
Simple.Deliberate.Hidden.
For a second neither of them spoke.
Connor was first.“The number eleven?”
Selena stared at the marks, then glanced at the Latin phrase on the other wall.
“I don’t think so.The killer seems enchanted by the classical world.”
He looked at her.“What does that mean?”
