A BIRTHDAY TO DIE FOR
By
Frank Atchley
Published by Frank Atchley at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Frank Atchley
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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DEDICATION
A Birthday to Die For is dedicated to the memory of Jerry Riggs, a man who lived by the Marine Corps ethics. His loyalty to our nation and his family was what guided him through his last days. He treated every person he met with kindness and respect. He treated people fairly and expected them to do the same with him. His pride in family was always apparent in the way he treated his wife Toby and the manner in which he spoke about the accomplishments of his sons. He was a man anyone would be proud to call a friend.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
During my thirty-three years in law enforcement, I’ve had the occasion to investigate a wide variety of crimes. As a result I blended many of the different investigations together to create this fictional story. Along the way I’ve worked with and received the support of and encouragement from many of my friends, fellow officers, and family. I would like to thank each and every one of them for their help as the story progressed.
Delores Atchley, Frankie Masterjohn, Micky and Max Osborn, Barbara and George Pope, Robert and Robin La Moria, Joyce Reese, Janice and Larry Kent, John and Lorie Goldsmith, John Decker, Ron Ryals, Stephanie Knowles, Trishca Masterjohn, Tailor Masterjohn, Glenda and Robert Sandberg, Pat Mohon, and the Riggs family.
A special thanks to Carol (von Raesfeld) Zimmerman [The von Raesfeld Agency, Henderson, NV.] It was through her professionalism, dedication, and persistence in assisting me with my manuscript that this novel finally got published.
My appreciation for the guidance and sometimes critical comments offered by Carol Zimmerman, my family, friends, and fellow officers goes beyond any written or spoken word.
My thanks to Dorothy Hardy for the creative cover design.
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CHAPTER 1
“They’re going to kill me!”
The terror in her patient’s voice slammed Dr. Paula Mitchell back in her chair, her own breath wedged in her throat. She stared into the terrified eyes of Kae Carlson. For the first time since she’d been treating Kae, they were making real progress. The young woman was opening up to her.
Two weeks before, Kae had entered the office, obviously afraid of something, grabbing glances over her shoulder, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for a place to hide. Although it was cold and raining outside, she’d worn no coat. She was sopping wet, her clothes soaked through, exposing the outline of her bra, her nipples rigid against the fabric. She looked fragile standing there in the dim light of Paula’s office, swiping errant strands of light brown hair out of her eyes with a trembling hand.
“Who’s going to kill you?”
Poised on the edge of Paula’s brown leather couch, Kae’s body was rigid. She nervously traced the inseam of her light blue jeans, but didn’t respond to the question. Occasionally she’d glance in Paula’s direction, then quickly return her gaze to the floor. It had become a routine. Kae had showed up for six sessions so far, but still hadn’t offered any explanation for her fears. Paula felt no closer to having the answers.
“Kae, you know I can’t help you unless you tell me what you’re afraid of and why? Do you understand?” Despite her frustration, Paula tried to sound calm and reassuring.
Dr. Paula Mitchell, a clinical psychologist, specialized in patients with sleep disorders, some with violent or erratic behavior, but she’d never encountered a situation as perplexing as Kae’s. All of her studies and research at the University of Washington as a post-grad before opening her own practice could not have prepared her for a case quite like this one.
During their first session, Kae withdrew into herself, then became silently aggressive, obviously suffering from a “Dissociative Identity Disorder,” often referred to as “Multiple Personalities.” She stopped talking in the first person. Thereafter, communication was conducted through different personalities, all of whom seemed to be in conflict with one another most of the time.
Suddenly, Kae’s body started to shake. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She started to rise as if to leave, then fell back on the couch. She snatched up a pillow and buried her face in it, sobbing and moaning.
Paula sat watching this emotional outburst, wondering how best to deal with it. She had witnessed similar displays with other patients and each time she’d sat silently waiting for it to subside. This time her first impulse was to wrap her arms around Kae and console her, but knew it could be counter-productive in their doctor-patient relationship. She’s trying to escape something which explains the multiple personalities, but why is she so convinced that someone is going to kill her?
Paula poured a cup of tea and set it on the coffee table in front of Kae. Knowing Kae desperately needed comfort and stability in her life, she reached over and touched her shoulder. The crying stopped immediately. Kae lifted her face to meet Paula’s gaze, but the expression was that of anger as the personality of Connie appeared. She seemed to be the primary spokesperson. “I told you, they’re going to kill me!”
Paula blanched, but trying to keep the surprise out of her voice, repeated the question. “Who is going to kill you?”
“The Devil,” Connie said, her tone matter-of-fact as she grabbed several tissues from the box sitting next to the untouched cup of tea and wiped her face. “That bitch can’t even cry with style,” she mumbled under her breath.
The off-handed use of an obscenity was a rare display of emotion from Kae. Paula knew she had to keep her talking. “Why the Devil?”
Connie glared at her as if she were completely stupid. “Because she didn’t give him a baby.”
Although puzzled, Paula felt she was onto something. This was the first time Kae had offered any information to explain her fears, even though it was through the personality of Connie.
“What do you mean, Connie? Tell me why you didn’t give him a baby?” Paula had learned early in their first session that if one of the hidden personalities came forward, she had to acknowledge them by name. If she didn’t, they’d all stop talking…deny that they even knew Kae and the opportunity to gain information would be lost.
“When I was thirteen, I was raped by a man who told me he was the High Priest for the Devil. He told me the Devil would protect me forever if I gave him a baby. He told me the Devil was my father.”
“Did you believe him?” asked Paula, realizing the enormity of the abuse that Connie was suggesting.
“No, but he held me down and tore my clothes off. Other people helped him force my legs apart, then he laid on top of me and raped me.”
Excitement raced through Paula’s mind. At last, some progress. “You said others helped. What do you mean?”
“There were other people wearing red robes. They held my arms and legs while he raped me.” Connie’s answer had come slowly, as if she was re-living the horrible experience as she spoke.
“The man who raped you, was he also wearing a red robe?” Paula asked, wanting to learn as much as possible while Connie was willing to talk.
“Yes, but he didn’t have any clothes on under the robe.”
“Could you see his face or the faces of the other people?” Paula pressed on.
“No, they all were wearing hoods that covered their faces. I really couldn’t see anything.”
“While they were holding you down, did anything else happen?”
“They were all chanting and they poured red stuff all over me. I think it was blood.”
“Did they ever tell you why they poured blood on you?”
“No!” Connie said. “I begged them to stop, but they kept doing it until they were through.”
“What happened next, Connie?”
Kae’s body stiffened, but Connie gained control again.
“They dried me off with a white towel, then they made me stand up and they put a long white robe on me.”
“Then what happened?”
Connie cut her off. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore!” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at the floor, pouting like a petulant child.
It was hard for Paula to believe what she’d just heard, yet a picture was forming in her mind about the horrors Kae had endured. A devil-worshipping cult was something totally foreign to Paula. She’d grown up in a small town on the Oregon coast, never traveling far from home until she entered Oregon State University in Corvallis. Had she not chosen psychology as her major, she might never have imagined that something like this existed, much less that it might possibly be true. Other than a brief mention during a course on deviant behavior, she’d had no firsthand knowledge about devil worship or satanic rituals.
“You’re doing good, Connie. Did anything else happen after the man raped you?”
Paula watched as Connie stood up, unbuttoned her blouse, then turned around to expose a large scar resembling a pentagram on her back. “He did this right after he raped me,” she said.
Paula’s skin prickled at the sight of it. The depravity of one human inflicting such atrocities on another human is appalling. “Why, Connie? Why would he do that to you?”
“He said it showed that I was a member of the family and under the protection of our father, the Devil,” she explained. “He told me if I delivered a baby to the Father that I’d be protected for the rest of my life.”
“Did you deliver a baby?” Paula asked, fearing what she might hear next. Just thinking about what degenerates like that might do to a baby aroused her own sense of anger.
“No. That’s why they’re going to kill me,” Connie responded.
“Are they looking for you right now?”
“I don’t know if they are at this very moment, but I know they plan to kill me on my twenty-sixth birthday. They poured blood on my car windshield and drew a pentagram in it, just like the one on my back. They wrote my birth date too. I’ve been getting phone calls. When I answer, you can tell that someone’s there, but they don’t say anything…and I think I’m being followed.”
“How long have these things been happening?” Paula asked, trying to determine if these acts were significant or only a figment of Kae’s imagination.
“The blood on my windshield with the pentagram and my birth date happened about six weeks ago. I know they’ll do something else, but I don’t know what or when,” Connie said, a look of desperation masking her face.
“When’s your birthday?” Paula asked.
“The twenty-second of May.”
“That’s only three weeks away,” said Paula.
Kae grimaced. “Yes.”
“What’s the significance of the pentagram on your windshield?” Paula asked.
Kae shook her head sadly. “In my case, it’s a warning. It was a circle around a five-pointed star pointing down.”
“Before you came to me, did you tell anyone else about the blood and the drawings on your windshield?”
“No. I didn’t think anyone would believe me.”
“How about the phone calls and being followed?” Paula asked, now beginning to understand Kae’s fears.
“No. You’re the first person I’ve told and I’m not sure you believe me.”
Ignoring Kae’s comment, Paula continued. “Tell me a little more about the person you think is following you.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do they look like? What type of clothing were they wearing?”
“I think he’s a white man, but I’m not sure. It looked like he had a full beard and mustache, but I couldn’t really tell because he had on a dark-colored jacket with the collar pulled up around his neck...and he was wearing a hat.”
“What else? What did the hat look like?”
“Everything he wore was dark-colored, even the hat. It was a knit hat, the kind that can be pulled down over your ears.”
“Okay, Connie, that’s good information, but what makes you think he’s following you?”
“It was the way he kept looking at me. Every time I caught him looking, he would turn away and whenever I started to walk, he’d follow.”
“Did he ever attempt to approach you or talk to you?”
“No! I escaped by going into a book store. I could see him waiting outside, so I stayed in the store until he left.”
While Connie’s answer was ambiguous at best, Paula chose to believe these acts were indeed warnings or reminders to Kae of the ritual to be held on her birthday, when she was to be sacrificed to appease Satan.
“Connie, you said you were thirteen years old when this happened. How did you even get involved with the High Priest and the other people in the red robes?”
Connie’s eyes flashed with anger. “My foster mother.”
Paula immediately picked up on what sounded like hatred in Connie’s voice. “What do you mean?”
“Rebecca Shelby—she’s my foster mother. She knew one of the men in the red robes.”
“The man you were told to go with, what did he look like?”
“I don’t know. I never saw his face. He was wearing a red robe and sitting in a car. My foster mother told me to get into the car and do whatever the man told me to do. I never saw his face.”
“Did your foster mother ever go to any of these meetings or rituals with you? Are you still in touch with her?”
Connie could no longer contain the hostility she felt towards her foster mother. “Hell no, the bitch is one of them. She’s the reason this happened to me. I’m going to die because of her.”
In disbelief, Paula weighed the chilling information she had just received with the question of what to do about it. If what Connie said was true, she would be killed in three weeks. I’ve got to do something, but what? She was ethically required to uphold the doctor-patient privilege and tell no one of the danger, but if she did that, Kae and her make-believe personalities would probably be killed. The realization that she could do nothing to prevent that from happening was overwhelming.
While Paula mulled over her options, Maxine, another of Kae’s personalities, interrupted. “She’s a liar!”
Paula immediately recognized Maxine’s voice. “Hello Maxine. Why is she a liar?”
“Because there’s no cult and she isn’t going to die on her birthday.”
Paula tried to relax. Such dramatic progress all at once had given her hope, but what if all these ramblings about cults were just that—incoherent nightmarish imaginings of a very disturbed mind trying to make sense of reality? “How do you know it isn’t true?”
“I just know!”
Paula considered Maxine to be a troublemaker, but also a personality that could not be ignored. She watched as Maxine moved herself to the front edge of the couch trying to get face-to-face with her in order to dominate the conversation. The domination and control displayed by Maxine confused the issue at best, but by asking right questions, she could possibly offer some clarity about what she’d learned from Connie.
A moment earlier, Paula had come to the conclusion that she needed to get the police involved in order to prevent Kae’s death, but Maxine’s accusation renewed her doubt. The revelation that Kae’s foster mother was involved seemed unbelievable. What if I’m wrong? What if it turns out there was no threat? It would be a major embarrassment, but on the other hand, if the threat was real and she didn’t bring the police in, Kae would die. Patient confidentiality... what can I do?
“Maxine, I need to talk to Connie. Is that okay with you?” Paula asked, expecting a barrage of insults to be thrown at Connie, something Maxine seemed to enjoy doing. But she knew it was Connie who spoke for Kae and was the most reasonable personality to deal with.
“Sure you can, but you know she’ll lie to you. She’s weak. She’ll tell you anything you want to hear. If you really want to know anything, I’m the one you should talk to,” Maxine replied. The grin on her face carried a threat, as if she was trying to intimidate Paula.
“Connie, may I talk to you?” Paula asked, maintaining a soft tone and waiting for a response.
The delay was only a second, but for Paula it felt longer. She knew what she had to do, but patient confidentiality was something she didn’t want to violate if there was any way to avoid it. She had to take the risk or lose the opportunity to help Kae, maybe to save her life.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” Connie asked.
“Connie, I need your help to decide what we should do to make sure nothing bad happens to you,” said Paula, watching for a reaction.
Connie studied Paula’s face for several seconds. “What do you want me to do? That’s why I came to you—for help.”
“I know you did, but what if I need someone else’s help to make sure you’re safe? Would it be okay if I asked someone I trust to help us?”
Connie seemed so innocent, yet her eyes were filled with sadness. “Are you sure you can trust them?” she asked, shrinking back into the couch again, clutching the pillow against her chest.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Paula responded confidently, even though she knew it might be difficult to convince the police, but she had nowhere else to turn.
“Who is this person you trust?” Connie asked.
The moment of truth had arrived. What if Connie rebels when I tell her I want to involve the police? “It’s a police officer. Someone who’ll protect you and won’t be afraid.”
Paula held her breath as Connie sat perfectly still, her gaze locked on Paula eyes. She was prepared for the worst when Connie said, “If you’re positive we can trust them, then it’s okay with me.”
The answer was a surprise. It felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off her chest. The confidentiality issue was resolved and she could now move forward.
Paula waited for Kae to leave before calling the police. She picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1, but hung up before the connection was completed. They won’t believe me. They’ll think I’m some kind of professional nut case and I can’t really blame them. I have a patient telling me a bizarre story, but she’ll only talk to me through different personalities.
Paula closed her eyes, resting her head against the back of the chair, feeling her fear for Kae’s life increase with every passing minute. She knew she needed to involve the police, but what should she say or do to convince them that Kae’s life was in jeopardy and she needed their protection? Maybe the tape recordings of the sessions will convince them. Today’s session revealed enough to persuade them to help. She picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.
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CHAPTER 2
Her shift was nearly over when the telephone rang on Sandra Reed’s desk in the King County Sheriff’s Department Communications Center. She picked it up, hoping the call didn’t involve a crime in progress. She’d never make it to the day care center on time if the call kept her late. They’d called earlier to tell her that her two-year old had a fever, but they’d manage until time to pick up both kids. The last thing she needed tonight was overtime.
“King County Sheriff’s Office. Is this an emergency?”
There was a momentary pause at the other end of the line as the caller took a deep breath. “Yes, it is. I am Dr. Paula Mitchell. I’m a clinical psychologist and I believe one of my patients is going to be killed.”
The worry in Dr. Mitchell’s voice got Sandra’s attention. “When is this supposed to happen?”
“In three weeks.”
Sandra blanched and stared at the phone. Was this a prank call? “Why in three weeks?”
This was the question Paula dreaded most. The story she was about to tell was so far-fetched that even she had a hard time believing it might be true. She’s going to think I’ve gone off my rocker and hang up on me, but what else can I do?
“Dr. Mitchell, are you still there?”
“Yes, sorry. What I’m about to tell you is going to sound weird, but please hear me out.”
Sandra glanced at the wall clock. Only ten minutes to go before she was off duty, but the anxiety in the caller’s voice convinced her that this matter was serious or she wouldn’t have called in the first place. “Okay, Doctor, tell me your weird story. I can handle it.”
It took Paula nearly fifteen minutes to tell Sandra why she believed Kae would be killed in three weeks. She described Kae’s panic, the carvings on her back, the High Priest and his assistants all dressed in red, hooded robes, and the actions of the foster mother. When she’d finished, she held her breath, listening to the silence on the other end of the line, waiting for Sandra Reed to tell her she was crazy.
“I’m sorry, it’s a lot of information to process, but from what you’ve told me, I’m convinced that there’s a strong likelihood your patient’s life may be in danger. I’m going to forward your call to Detective Jerry Riggs. Please tell him what you just told me. He should be able to help you. Good luck!”
Paula was surprised at how easy it seemed to convince Sandra that she was not a prankster or a loon and that Kae really did need help. If only it will be that easy to convince Detective Riggs.
Jerry Riggs picked up the phone on the second ring. “Homicide, Riggs.”
“Riggs, this is Sandra in the Communications Center. I’m transferring a call to you—Dr. Paula Mitchell. I believe what she told me. I told her you can help her.”
Jerry cocked an eyebrow. “What’s she going to tell me?”
“It’s better that you hear it directly from her. It’s hard to believe, but I think it’s for real. Line four.”
He punched the button. “This is Detective Riggs, how can I help you?”
“Detective, my name is Paula Mitchell. I’m a Clinical Psychologist. I have a patient by the name of Kae Carlson who came to my office about two months ago. She’s twenty-five years old. She claims she was raped by a satanic priest when she was thirteen. Today, I discovered the reason why she came to see me. She claims she will be killed on her twenty-sixth birthday, which is three weeks away. I cannot save her on my own. I need your help.”
A frown narrowed Riggs’ vision. This has to be a joke. He glanced around the squad room. No one was paying the least bit of attention to him. Okay, I’ll play along, but paybacks are a bitch. “Doctor, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me everything you can remember that makes you believe she’s going to be killed.”
“Okay, I’ll do my best.”
Riggs listened carefully as the doctor told a bizarre story of a thirteen year-old virgin impregnated by the High Priest of a satanic cult. The girl had had a miscarriage and failed to deliver a baby to be sacrificed to Satan. Her failure had placed her own life in jeopardy as she was now expected to take the place of her dead baby and be sacrificed on her twenty-sixth birthday to appease Satan.
The story was ridiculous, impossible to believe, especially when the doctor explained that the young woman suffered with multiple personalities, one of which had compelled her to see Dr. Mitchell.
“Connie speaks in the first person, as if everything that has happened to Kae happened to her. Maxine, the combative one, accuses Connie of lying and won’t admit that Kae even exists. Then, as if two personalities aren’t enough, there’s a third—Cathleen, the protector and peacemaker.”
Riggs interrupted. “Do you really believe what you’ve just told me?”
She was surprised by the interruption, but not the question. “Yes, I do.”
Her tone of voice told Riggs that she was sincere in her belief that her patient had been raped, had had a miscarriage, and now her life is in danger. He could hear the plea for help, something he couldn’t ignore.
“Dr. Mitchell, I must admit I’m not as convinced as you obviously are, but I’m going to honor your expertise in this matter and give you whatever help I can.”
There was discernable relief in her voice. “Thank you, Detective. I really appreciate this. Where do we start?”
“Well, the first thing I’d like to do is watch the tape recordings of your sessions. I want to listen to what Kae Carlson has to say and see how she acts while saying it. Maybe I can see or hear something you don’t. It may just convince me that her story is for real and give us a starting point.”
“When would you like to do this?”
Riggs checked his calendar. “Tomorrow morning, nine a.m., your office—if that’s convenient for you.”
“That’s perfect. I’m looking forward to meeting you face-to-face, Detective.”
“Same here! I’ll need any names you have regarding your patient—her family, friends, neighbors, work associates, as well as their addresses, phone numbers, dates of birth, and places of employment.”
“I only have her address and phone number, but I’ll try to get more information before you get here.”
He hung up the phone, wondering what the hell he’d just gotten himself into. He’d never handled an investigation involving devil worshippers or anyone with multiple personalities. He knew he was probably crazy for getting involved, but this investigation would be challenging and certainly intriguing with its possibilities.
Riggs sat at the dinner table deep in thought, mulling over the information Dr. Mitchell had given him. As always, Toby and the boys, Todd, Shane, and Trent, sat there watching his every move, waiting for him to say something. They’d seen him like this before and knew it had something to do with one of his investigations.
Toby could only imagine the depth and seriousness of it. She wanted to ask questions, to be of some help to him, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He’d explained the risks involved if he shared any information with her. “If I told you anything, you might become a witness, maybe have to testify in court and the bad guys will do anything to keep that from happening.” She knew he was simply protecting her and the boys.
Several minutes passed before Riggs brought his attention back to his family and the meal Toby had prepared. “Sorry, I was thinking about a new case I’m working on,” he said, embarrassed that they’d caught him again.
“We know, Dad,” said Todd, the eldest.
“What kind of case is it, Dad?” asked Shane, knowing his dad always refused to discuss any of his cases.
“Shane, I know you want to know everything that’s going on, but I won’t discuss it now. I’ll tell you all about it when it’s over.”
Riggs looked at his youngest son, Trent, waiting for his usual “But Dad” comment that didn’t come. It must’ve been the way he looked at Trent that stopped further inquiry.
“Okay boys, finish your dinner and go do your homework,” Toby instructed.
What little he knew about satanic cults was frightening. Not only were victims like Kae in jeopardy, but also anyone involved in the investigation of the cult and its activities, including him and his family as well. He’d been down this road before on other investigations, so he made it a rule to keep everything to himself.
He’d never forget the case involving a Mafia don who’d put a contract out on him. The threat was real and the risk to his family was obvious. Officers staked out his house to protect him, Toby, and the boys, but he said nothing to Toby until several months later.
“When I took this job, I knew there would be risks involved, but I promise I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect you and the boys, even if it means keeping the facts of my investigations to myself.”
Over the fifteen years they’d been married, Toby had developed a sixth sense about Jerry and she could always tell when something was bothering him. She knew he was serious about his work, but when it came to her husband, she knew what she had to do to help him keep things in perspective, which had earned her a reputation as a prankster.
Her pranks started shortly after they were married, when Jerry was in the Marine Corps, stationed at the Cherry Point Marine Base in North Carolina. She wrote him a love letter on a roll of toilet paper. He shared a good laugh with his comrades as he read it. His fellow Marines enjoyed her pranks almost as much as he did. They teased him unmercifully the time she wrote him a love letter on a paper plate, watching him turn it around and around to read what she’d written.
Not long after his promotion to Homicide Detective, he took her in his arms and kissed her. “Toby, I just want to say thank you for all the things you do for me. Because of you, I’m better able to handle stressful situations, which helps me more than you know. I love you!”
Toby could tell that Jerry was preoccupied with the new case he’d mentioned earlier and decided it was time to put her plan into action. She poured two glasses of wine and took them upstairs and set them on the nightstand. She tucked the boys into bed and called down to Jerry to kiss them goodnight, then she slipped into the bathroom to change into a sexy nightgown. When she emerged he was sitting on the bed, taking off his shoes and socks. She stopped in the doorway and flicked the lights on and off to get his attention. Her maneuver produced the response she was hoping for when he turned and gave a low whistle. She gave him a suggestive, slow-eyed wink, knowing that the new investigation would be far from his thoughts tonight.
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CHAPTER 3
The weather was cold and dreary when Riggs arrived at the office of Dr. Paula Mitchell half an hour early. She wasn’t there yet, so he remained in his car, sipping hot coffee and remembering last night with Toby. While he waited he kept the engine running and the defroster on to keep the windows from steaming up so he could see the doctor when she arrived. The outside temperature was hovering just above freezing. Inside the car he could see his breath when he leaned his head against the cold glass away from the defroster.
He’d been waiting less than ten minutes when he saw a woman approaching his car. She was quite agile as she navigated around the patches of thin ice on the sidewalk. She wore a light-colored trench coat with its belt drawn tight, accentuating her slim figure. It was obvious that she took good care of herself. The turned-up collar and the way she carried her umbrella hinted that she was a professional. As he peered at her through his windshield, he surmised she was about five feet four inches tall, maybe one hundred and twenty pounds at the most. She walked with purpose—back straight, head up, and eyes forward. There was no doubt in his mind that this woman possessed a lot of self-confidence.
She leaned over and asked through the open window, “Are you Detective Riggs?”
“Yes, I am. You’re Dr. Mitchell?”
“One and the same. Come inside. I’ll make a pot of coffee and we can get down to business.”
“Sounds good to me, Doc.”
He followed her inside, stopping in the small reception area as she disappeared around a corner. Paula wasn’t used to being referred to as “Doc,” but she didn’t feel insulted by the way Riggs said it. In fact, she felt the tone was friendly. He was clean-shaven with neatly trimmed hair. She guessed that he was about 5’11” with a muscular build. He wore a wedding band on his left hand.
Judging from their conversation the previous evening, she believed Riggs to be a man of sincere beliefs, who took great pride in doing his job well. Although he had a friendly manner, her first impression was that he was not someone to challenge or to flee from. There was no doubt in her mind he was a man used to being in charge and not afraid to use whatever means available to accomplish his goals.
“The coffee’s on,” she said, hanging her coat in a small closet. “We can start in my office while it’s perking, if that’s okay with you, Detective?”
“That’s fine with me. I had a cup while I was waiting for you. By the way, you can call me Jerry. It sounds like we’re going to be working together on what might be a pretty intense investigation, so let’s not be so formal.”
She grinned. “Okay, Jerry…and you can call me Paula.”
“Doc sounds good to me,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. They both knew he’d continue to call her Doc whether they worked together or not.
“Doc, how much do you know about devil worship and satanic cults?”
Her brow furrowed. “Not much, to tell you the truth. I’ve attended lectures and, of course, read some books on the subject. Academically, the subject has been covered extensively, but not so much so scientifically. From what I’ve learned, they are extremely dangerous and will do just about anything to protect their anonymity.”
“It’s about the same with me. I’ve read a little about cults, but other than that, I really don’t know anything about them. When you think of something like devil worship, you hope it isn’t true, but deep down you know it is, don’t you?” Riggs said, watching Paula’s face for a reaction.
Paula nodded, “Unfortunately, I have a feeling that what Kae has told me is the absolute truth. Where would you like to start? I can give you a few more details.”
“I’d like to look at the videotapes of your sessions with Kae first, then I want to do a little research on cults and compare what we see and hear in the videos with what my research reveals.”
“It sounds like you have a plan,” she said. “Kae signed all the releases via the personality of Connie, so there’s no violation of doctor-patient confidentiality—unless it goes further than your office.”
Jerry smiled. “Not really, let’s just say we’re collecting information so we can develop a plan.”
The videos were stored individually in paper envelopes with Kae Carlson’s name printed on the outside, along with the date and time of each session. Riggs started with the very first video, watching it from beginning to end with Doctor Mitchell watching him for any reaction or question he might have.
The first video showed Kae as she was seated on the brown leather couch positioned against the west wall. Dr. Mitchell was seated in a high-back leather chair of the same color as the couch, about five feet from Kae. Kae was dressed in a light blue jogging outfit and sat with her legs folded under her. She held a large blue-colored stuffed pillow close to her chest as she talked to the doctor. While Kae talked, Dr. Mitchell made notes on a pad she either held in her hands or had laying on the small table near the right side of her chair.
Kae’s voice would change as she talked which caused Dr. Mitchell to ask to whom she was now speaking. The first change in Kae’s voice was that of a personality called Connie. While the session continued, Kae’s voice changed two more times, revealing the additional personalities of Maxine and Cathleen.
“Well, Doc, that was sure confusing,” Riggs said as the first tape rewound. “How do you know it’s not just an act? The only thing I got out of this video is the possibility that Kae has multiple personalities. Until now, this is something I’ve only read about in paperback novels and seen in the movies. However, I’m not convinced that this isn’t just an act. Maybe after I see the rest of the videos, I’ll have a different opinion.”
“Jerry, I can understand your skepticism, but please wait until you’ve seen all the videos before coming to any conclusion.”
“Okay, bring on the second tape and another cup of coffee, please. You wouldn’t have a stray donut lying around anywhere, would you?”
“Never touch the foul things,” she replied with a smirk. “How about a granola bar?”
“I’ll pass.”
Riggs watched the second through the sixth videos seeing nothing new which sparked his interest or caused him to believe he was seeing anything but an act on the part of Kae. It wasn’t until the seventh and final tape he started to feel there might be some validity to what Kae was claiming. The stiff body, rigid jaw line, angry eyes, and the hostility in her voice towards the foster mother was the type of body language he looked for in persons he interviewed. The body language oftentimes reveals more than the spoken word.
“Doc, this last video is convincing. I believe there’s some merit to what Kae has told you. I’d like to interview Kae myself, if it’s alright with you.” The information revealed in the last session about the guy with the knit hat had piqued his curiosity. He wondered what else could be pulled from Kae’s memory through that of her other personalities.
Paula sat silently for a few minutes while Riggs waited for a response. In her mind she was trying to identify the risks which may be involved with Riggs going face to face with Kae. She also considered what would happen if Kae didn’t react well to Riggs and his skeptical attitude. It might do more damage than help; however, she also realized there was no other way to protect Kae’s life.
“Okay, but only if I’m present and Kae agrees to it.”
“I don’t have a problem with that. In fact, you might have to give me some guidance during the interview. Remember, I’ve never interviewed anyone with multiple personalities before and I won’t recognize which voice belongs to which personality.”
Paula smiled at the false doubt. “When do you want to interview Kae?”
“Can you have her here tomorrow, let’s say, thirteen hundred hours?”
It took her a minute to catch on. “If you mean one in the afternoon, yes I can. I’ll give her a call and ask her to cut class tomorrow—that is, if she’s going to class. She’s attending Seattle Community College on a grant that covers her living expenses as well.”
“How can she go to college with multiple personalities?” Riggs asked.
“Well, that’s part of the problem. She hasn’t been going to classes on a regular basis and her grant is in jeopardy unless we get her emotional problems resolved—or at least under control.”
“Good luck, Doc, you‘re going to need it. I’ll see you at one tomorrow,” he said, already looking forward to the challenge he’d face in the interview of Kae and her personalities.
“What are you going to do between now and one tomorrow?” she inquired.
“I’m going to do the research I told you about. I need to know a little more about cults, satanic rituals, and devil worshipping in general before I talk to Kae. Also, I’d like to know—have you ever done any profiling?”
“What do you mean?”
“Doc, it would be nice to have some understanding as to the type of people drawn into satanic worship. What’s their background? What are they seeking? If we had this understanding, it just might be of help in this investigation.”
“I understand your reasoning. I’ll do some research and see if I can come up with a profile you can work with. See you tomorrow.”
As Riggs headed for his car, he thought about where to start. Having Dr. Mitchell do some profiling would make her feel like an active member of the investigation and encourage her participation as needed. He remembered reading something about a church in Los Angeles being broken into and a ritual involving a possible sacrifice. What was the sacrifice? He couldn’t remember. It had been a long time since he’d read about it, but maybe it would be good place to start his research. LAPD saw every crazy in the book, so why not this? This would match anything LAPD had, with some left over.
~~~~
CHAPTER 4
First stop was the library. Riggs knew he’d call the Los Angeles Police Department as soon as he reached his office, but he wondered if anyone there would remember the incident he had read about. It had been years since he’d read the article and with the turnover in officers, both on patrol and in the detectives, the odds were against him finding anyone with first-hand knowledge about the church incident.
The reference cards in the library showed a number of books and articles on satanic cults, rituals, and devil worship. One reference card in particular was important. It had the name of Detective Al Turner of the Los Angeles Police Department. It identified Turner as a recognized expert on cults and as a detective who had given expert testimony on the subject in court. Riggs jotted Turner’s name down and headed for the office. Turner was the person he wanted to talk to. If Turner was still with LAPD, he was the one person who could give him a fast education on cults. He might also offer some ideas which could help expedite the investigation.
When Riggs telephoned LAPD, he quickly learned Turner was still with the Department and assigned to a Special Investigations Unit. At his request, he was transferred to Turner’s extension.
“Special Investigations, Detective Turner.”
“Detective Turner, this is Detective Riggs with the King County Sheriff’s Department in Seattle, Washington.”
“Hello Riggs, how can I help you?”
“Well, I’m handling an investigation where a woman claims she was impregnated by the High Priest of a devil-worshipping cult. Since she failed to deliver a baby to be sacrificed, she is to be killed or sacrificed on her twenty-sixth birthday. I’ve never been involved in an investigation of this nature, so I need a little help understanding if what I’m being told could be true and if so, what do I need to be on the lookout for.”
“Let me guess, Riggs, she was impregnated on her thirteenth birthday.”
Riggs’ feet dropped to the floor at the confirmation of Kae‘s story. “That’s what she claims.”
“The information you’re getting is consistent with what I know about cults and their rituals; however, I’ve found each cult I’ve investigated followed its own philosophy. Just because they’re identified as satanic or devil worshippers doesn’t mean they practice their beliefs or perform their rituals the same way. I do believe from what you’ve been told, your victim is indeed in danger.”
Surprised and a little excited, Riggs asked, “Since I know nothing about cults or what to expect, can you tell me a little more about them?”
“I can do that. First, let’s start with the word “occult.” The word came from the Latin word “occultist,” which means “hidden.” Satanism is represented by two separate groups, secular and traditional Satanists. They believe Satan is Lucifer, a high-ranking angel who wanted to be exalted to the same position as God. It was because of this sin that Lucifer fell and became Satan, the Devil, leading a large number of rebellious angels who became demons or fallen angels.
Satanism is practiced through two rituals. One is defined as psychological, sexual, or physical assault on an unwilling human victim. It is committed by one or more people whose primary motive is to fulfill a prescribed ritual in order to achieve a specific goal to satisfy the perceived needs of their deity.
The second ritual is a need to gratify the needs of the Christian Devil. It involves a highly organized, secret, often multi-generational group which engages in mutilation, ritual killing, cannibalism, drinking blood, and other disgusting things.”
Riggs sat in stunned silence.
“Did you get all that, Riggs?”
“Yeah.” He was overwhelmed with the information. He was impressed with Turner’s knowledge, realizing he didn’t learn all that overnight. The history on cults and Satanism was more than interesting—it gave him further reason to believe what Kae had told Dr. Mitchell was true.
“Yes, I got it. Thanks for all the information. I’m still wondering how the hell these people get away with it. Isn’t there a record of the birth or death of the person being sacrificed? How do they discard the bodies of their victims? Where do they conduct their rituals? Why don’t we hear more about these sick bastards?”
“Good questions. First, you must understand these cults are extremely secretive. Their membership is made up of people from every walk of life—doctors, lawyers, teachers, judges, military personnel, police officers, and just about anyone else who may come to mind. The secrecy is protected by the members. A doctor will deliver a baby for the purpose of sacrifice, after which a mortician will dispose of the body through cremation. There is no paper trail showing the baby ever existed, which more or less explains how they get away with it.”
“How did you get involved in these types of investigations?” Riggs asked, amazed at the knowledge Turner had already shared with him.
“It started with a sacrifice in a church some years ago. I was a beat cop and responded to a burglary at the church. When I got there, people dressed in red robes were running in every direction. I didn’t have a back-up and I was unable to catch or arrest anyone. I secured the scene and detectives responded and processed the scene for evidence. In the end, the detectives found no fingerprints of any value and to this day the case is still unsolved. The one thing they did find that got our interest was the altar set up and the presence of blood, which tested to be human.”
While Riggs digested the information, he asked, “I read an article a few years back regarding a church burglary and the evidence of an occult ritual. Is that the one you’re talking about?”
“That’s the one. The Department decided to create a special investigations unit to investigate cults because members in the top brass thought this was a bigger problem than first believed. Turns out they were right. I’ve been involved in hundreds of cult investigations with several successes, as well as some that weren’t so successful. The one thing I’ve learned, Riggs, and something you need to be aware of, is these devil worshippers are very dangerous. They will kill you and anyone else they think has knowledge of them or if you’re getting too close.”
A chill of something unexpected raced down Riggs’ spine as Turner described the risk associated with the unveiling of a cult and its members. “What can you tell me about their rituals, like when and where they hold them?”
“They will sometimes use a house or church, but most of the time they’ll find an isolated place in the desert or in your case up north, the forest.”
“How do you find these ritual sites?”
“Generally, you don’t. Someone might stumble onto a site while hiking or hunting, but if that doesn’t happen, you’ll need someone who knows where it is and will guide you to it. Also, they often change the locations to avoid detection.”
“Riggs, there’s one more thing you need to know about ritual sites. When a ritual is being held, there will be an outer and an inner perimeter with armed guards at each. The guard on the outer perimeter will warn the inner perimeter guard if an intruder approaches. The inner guard alerts the worshippers who hide or flee. If the intruder gets too close, the inner guard will kill them.”
“Damn! I sure wouldn’t want to be some poor son-of-a-bitch who just happens to wander into the area where these assholes are doing their mumbo-jumbo routine.”
“You got that right. You‘ve got a tough investigation ahead of you. You’ll need to pay attention to animal mutilations, church break-ins, and anything else suspicious in nature around a church. You should probably respond to the scene of any animal mutilation or church break-in because you just might discover a clue that will be of some help. I’d also recommend you give George Douglas a call. He’s a psychologist who has counseled women associated with cults in numerous jurisdictions. He’s located in San Bernardino, California. You can get hold of him through the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department. I can’t think of anything else to tell you at the moment. If you have any more questions, give me a call. I’ll be glad to help any way I can.”
“I can understand the need to pay attention to what’s happening at the churches, but why the animal mutilations?” Riggs asked, looking for some clarification.
“George Douglas will do a better job of explaining it than I can, but it has to do with whatever ritual they’re conducting. Both satanic worshippers and believers in witchcraft use animal organs for their rituals.”
“Turner, thanks for the information, but if you don’t mind, I have one more question.”
“What is it?”
“During the last session with the psychologist, my victim revealed that she believed she was being followed. What’s the likelihood the cult would put a tail on her?”
“Based on what you’ve already told me, I believe the sacrificial date is getting close enough that there’s a strong likelihood they’d put a tail on her. They’ll probably abduct her at the appropriate time. I’d consider putting your victim into protective custody.”
“Thanks for the information and advice. You’ve been a lot of help. I’ll let you know how things go and I’ll give you a call if I have any more questions,” Riggs said, knowing it would be nearly impossible to convince the brass to spend department money on protective custody, but another thought popped into his mind that just might accomplish the same thing.
Riggs leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the front edge of his desk, staring at the ceiling. The information he’d received from Turner was enlightening, giving him a better understanding as to how the devil worshippers operate, but would it help him protect Kae?
While still somewhat ambivalent regarding the existence of a satanic cult, what Turner had told him was undeniable. Satanic cults do exist and Kae’s life was in jeopardy. Maybe it was time to put a tail on the tail. He needed to find out if there’s really a man with a knit hat and if so, if he’s a member of the cult.
Recognizing the probability that a satanic cult is the root of Kae’s fears and accusations, Riggs pondered the investigative trails he’d need to follow, trails that would confirm Kae’s story and identify the members of the satanic brotherhood responsible for the threats against her life. The way he saw it at this time, identification of the cult members would be the only way to save Kae’s life. If what she claims is true, the man in the knit hat may just have the answers. This is going to take time and help. He opened a new file folder and started filling out the forms. It was time to let the sergeant in on what he was investigating.
First, he’d have to convince Sgt. Ashley of the threat to Kae’s life. He might have a hard time believing a satanic cult actually exists and why they hadn’t been discovered before this.
On his way to Sgt. Ashley’s office, Riggs spotted Sgt. Mary Francis coming out of her office. The sight of her immediately brought to mind his idea of putting a tail on Kae and maybe capturing the guy in the knit hat. She was in charge of the undercover narcotic detectives and who better to do the tailing than her detectives?
“Sgt. Francis, can I have a minute? I need to talk to you,” Riggs called down the hallway.
“Riggs, what can I do for you?”
“It’s like this, I need some surveillance help. I need someone who can blend into the college crowd. Can you help me?”
“Tell me what it’s about and then I’ll let you know.”
“Well, it’s like this. I have a young woman who is scheduled to die at the hands of a satanic cult. She has described a male individual wearing dark clothing and a knit type hat who she believes is following her when she leaves her home and goes to school. I believe if we put a tail on her, we just might catch the guy in the knit hat and identify the cult members. I’d like to use whoever you can give me to tail her and I’d like no one other than myself, you, and your detectives to know about this. What do you think?” Riggs asked.
Sgt. Francis looked at him with wide-open eyes that reflected disbelief at what she was hearing. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, Sarge, I’m deadly serious,” answered Riggs.
“How long will you keep the tail on her?” she asked, rolling over in her mind which detectives she could spare for this assignment.
“The way I see it, I’ll keep the tail on her until we either catch the guy in the knit hat or the scheduled time for her sacrifice has passed, which is only a couple of weeks from now.”
“What if your guy in the knit hat turns out to be nothing more than a stalker with no connections to a satanic cult?” Francis asked.
“It may be a long shot, but right now I’ve nothing more to work with; but if I’m right, we’ll save a young woman’s life.”
“Why not use someone in the homicide unit?”
“What I’ve learned so far about satanic cults leads me to consider the possibility that they already know I’m conducting this investigation. If so, they may also know who I am and the other members of the homicide unit, which would burn us before we even get started,” Riggs explained, hoping Sgt. Francis was buying into his suggested need for help.
“You present a good argument. I’m willing to go along with it for a few days, but if I get backlogged on my unit’s investigations, I’ll pull my people back. Is that understood?”
“I understand. I appreciate any help you can give me. So which detectives are you going to assign so I can brief them?”
“Do you know Mike Hatch? Everyone calls him ‘Mad Dog.’ Also, John Decker, who goes by the nickname, ‘Squirrelly John.’ ” Francis had a broad smile on her face.
“I‘ve seen them, but don’t really know them.”
“Believe me, you’ll get to know them. I‘ll have them meet up with you for their briefing.”
“Thanks, Sarge, I’ll keep you briefed on what’s going on,” Riggs said, turning towards Sgt. Ashley’s office.
Sergeant Dale Ashley was seated behind his desk when Riggs knocked on the door. Hearing the knock, Ashley glanced up and motioned Riggs towards the chair beside his desk.
“What’s up, Riggs?” he asked.
“Sergeant, I need to let you know I’ve been working on a case I took over the telephone a few days ago. It involves a victim by the name of Kae Carlson.”
Ashley quietly listened to Riggs describe the peculiar circumstances in his investigation, then asked, “Do you really believe this is true?”
“Yes, I do,” Riggs replied, seeing the look on the Sergeant’s face and feeling his request for future help might be in vain.
“Riggs, I’ve known about this case since the day you took the call. I’ve been waiting for you to own up to taking it in the first place and wondering if you’d closed it yet. This case sounds like so much bullshit that I’m surprised you even considered it,” he admonished, obviously surprised that Riggs hadn’t come to him sooner.
“Sarge, I apologize for not bringing it to your attention before now, but I needed some convincing one way or another before jumping into the investigation. I now believe there may be something to it. I’ve talked to the doctor, who has convinced me there’s a strong possibility her patient is telling the truth and her patient’s life is in jeopardy. I’ve talked to Detective Al Turner with LAPD, who is considered to be an expert in the investigation of Satanism and the weird bastards that partake in its practice. He confirms the existence of these cults and tells me the story relayed to me via the doctor is consistent with investigations he’s handled. I believe we need to follow up on this and do everything we can to identify the cult members and save a life. This may all be bullshit, but then again, it may not.”