Kathy Reichs - Devil Bones

Then why was she now e-mailing instead of dialing?

Because I went twenty-four hours without answering either line? Because those who tried my home got a message that service was disconnected?

I made a mental note to speak with Takeela.

Two messages had arrived from the entomologist to whom I’d sent the Greenleaf and Klapec bugs. Each contained an attachment. I opened and read the first.

No surprise. The insects from the subcellar suggested the chicken had died approximately eight weeks before I’d collected the specimens. That put the last known activity at Cuervo’s altar sometime in mid-August.

That fit. Cuervo had his head-on with the train on August twenty-sixth.

I opened the Klapec report. In addition to species names and numbers, it provided two opinions, one concerning postmortem environment, one concerning time since death.

The first opinion was not unexpected.

The samples contain no evidence of immersion in an aquatic environment.

OK. Klapec was dumped and didn’t wash ashore. Larabee and I had arrived at the same conclusion at autopsy.

The second opinion was more troubling.

The decedent was spotted in situ on October ninth, reported and recovered two days later. Temperatures reached daytime highs in the eighties for the period in question. The body was loosely wrapped in plastic. Trauma was severe. Given these factors, insect activity is unusually light, but not inconsistent with the lower end of a PMI range beginning with a minimum of forty-eight hours.

I sat back, puzzled.

Rinaldi noted that his informant, Vince, had last seen Jimmy Klapec with the violent john, Rick Nelson, on September 29. If that was true, where was Klapec from September 29 until his body turned up on October 11?

JK. 9/29. LSA with RN acc. to VG.

Were we wrong in our interpretation of Rinaldi’s entry? If so, what had he meant?

I pictured Klapec lying on the Lake Wylie shoreline. The carved chest and belly. The truncated neck. That corpse should have been alive with maggots and eggs. Why so little oviposition and hatching? And why no interest from animals?

I pictured Susan Redmon’s skull in the dark of Cuervo’s cellar.

The two scenes were so different, and yet so alike, involving the macabre use of human remains. Why these two discoveries so proximate in time?

I had to agree with Slidell. In my gut, I knew the situations were linked. But how far did the web extend? And who was spinning it?

Finney? He’d denied knowing Cuervo, but tensed at the mention of the santero ’s name. He drove a Ford Focus. And had books on Satanism.

I don’t believe in coincidence. Coincidence is merely lack of full knowledge of the facts.

OK. Time for facts.

Googling the name Asa Finney got me two hits, one for an early settler of the town of Hamilton, New York, and one for the Web page of a witch called Ursa.

Asa. Ursa. Bingo. I tried the bear.

On the upper left side of Ursa’s opening page a silver pentagram emitted sparks as it slowly revolved. On the right was a photo of Asa Finney in a long white robe embroidered with the constellation Ursa Major. The Big Bear. Or the Big Dipper, take your pick.

A stratified pyramid filled the center of the screen, offering links to pages within the site. Choices included: Announcements, Book Reviews, Celebrations, Lessonbook, Magick, Moon Phases, Poetry, Rituals, and Samhain.

I chose Poetry.

Finney favored verse about crying lilies, hearts like lighthouses, and bringing about reality through love.

I went to Samhain .

There was a quote from Ray Bradbury’s The Halloween Tree, an ad for a book titled Pagan Mysteries of Halloween, and a lengthy explanation of the festival. Finney’s account of the origin of All Hallows’ Eve coincided with that provided by Jennifer Roberts. I learned, among other things, that in Scotland the practice of donning costumes involved cross-dressing, with men tarting up as women and vice versa.

I was distracted for a moment, unable to form a picture. If men wore kilts, how did that work?

The only thing of relevance was a statement that Samhain often involved two distinct celebrations, one preceding the actual feast. OK. That supported Roberts’s account of an off-schedule gathering at the camp.

Returning to the main page, I clicked on Lessonbook .

There was Finney again, this time in closeup. The guy really did look like an acne-scarred version of Rick Nelson.

Below Finney were more tabs: Medicine and Magick; Every Breath Is a Prayer; Rocks Are Individuals Like Us; Aphrodisiacs: Gifts from the Goddess. I assumed each linked to a Wiccan lesson in living.

Somewhat bored at this point, I chose Aphrodisiacs.

The use of an aphrodisiac affects more than one person. Now there was a revelation. Aphrodisiacs exist as herbs or as food. Herbs include ginseng, garlic, and guarana. OK. I didn’t know that.

Erotic foods can be anything salty, sticky, sweet, chewy, moist, warm, or cool. So what’s left?

At the bottom of the page Finney had included a disclaimer, stating that his advice was for informational purposes only, and warning readers to consult health care professionals before employing aphrodisiacs as sexual aids.

Right. Hello, Doctor. I may eat a caramel. What do you think?

I was about to log out when my eye fell on a box at the lower left-hand side of the page. Finney had provided links to what I assumed were sources for his libidinous fare.

Botánica Exótica

Divine Sisters Botanicals

Earth Elements

La Botánica Buena Salud

Mystical Moods

Pagan Potions

I felt a tingle at the base of my throat. La Botánica Buena Salud. Cuervo’s shop?

Barely breathing, I clicked on the listing. And got a message that the link was invalid.

Was it the same shop? An unrelated online store with an identical name?

Had I found proof tying Finney and Cuervo? If so, why had Finney lied about knowing the santero ?

Had Finney included Cuervo’s shop simply because it was in Charlotte?

Cuervo and Finney. A santero and a witch. What was the connection? Was Slidell’s instinct about Finney correct? Was Ursa involved in more than just poetry and potted herbs? In Jimmy Klapec’s murder? In Rinaldi’s?

In Cuervo’s? Was it possible the man’s death hadn’t been accidental?

Jennifer Roberts was adamant about Finney’s innocence. Nevertheless, she’d been unable to contact him the night Klapec was killed.

Roberts was right about one thing. Finney’s Web site seemed the handiwork of an eccentric but nonviolent personality.

Absently, I logged off.

And found myself staring at a headless body pierced by dozens of swords. Slowly, the body dissolved to black. A dot appeared and grew into an alien creature with way too many teeth.

I watched the pop-up, mesmerized, as a red circle appeared on the creature’s chest. In a flash, its body exploded and flew off in fragments. Words floated across the screen. Evil guilds. Mythic worlds. Alien universes. Prey stalking. Play. Learn cutting edge programming techniques. The title Dr.Games.com. flashed orange and red, urging the viewer to click on the icon.

The pop-up had no “close” option. I moved my cursor to the X in the top right-hand corner of the screen. The thing would not go away.

Sudden thought. Finney was into gaming. Could the pop-up be his handiwork, meant to lure Ursa’s visitors to another site?

OK, Dr. Games. I’m game.

Dr. Games’s opening screen contained no photos or graphics. A single statement welcomed players, hobbyists, and professionals.

A bullet list offered the following choices: How to Build the Ultimate Gaming PC. Components of a Good Game. Advice in Game Design Careers. Game Design Courses. Free Downloadable Games.