J. Rusolo Ward

“…become a Sodom and Gomorrah.”

“What was that, Mrs. Heks?” I was distracted by my new partner, Chen, who was vomiting as if possessed by a demon.

The wrinkly woman scowled.  “Please pay attention Officer Jill.”

I managed not to roll my eyes.

“She’s Detective Kalbag,” Chen joined us, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.  “What did I miss?”

Mrs. Heks eyed him for a moment as if trying to decide whether it was better to deal with a woman, or a detective who was still wet behind the ears.  I must have won because she turned to me. “The neighborhood has become a den of inequity.  Full of criminals.”

“Except for you,” I said sarcastically.

“Of course.”

“Did you know the victim?”

“Her name was Cookie Ruiz.”

“Did she have family?”

She shrugged.  “Who knows?  She was a forty-year-old hooker who rented the apartment over my garage.”

I raised my eyebrows.  “You rented to a prostitute?”

“She paid her rent on time, and never brought clients home.”

I left her to Chen, and joined the medical examiner.  “What’s up, doc.”

“I have to get her back to the lab to confirm, but at first glance, I’d say the crossbow bolt through her heart was the cause of death.”

“This is a high traffic area, so I’m guessing she died sometime this morning?”

“Dead since Thursday.”

“Three days?  So, she was killed somewhere else.”  The hair on my arms stood up.  “Like the other one.”

He held up a piece of paper. “Her body was drained of blood.  He left another message.”

I took the paper and glanced at the familiar writing:

Life is blood,

Blood is life

Creatures of the night

Feed on strife

“What’s it mean?”

I frowned.  “It means Warwick Falls has a serial killer.”