Peter Caine and Skalany had filled her in on the car investigation, and the conversation at the car wash. The three of them had agreed that there had to be something with the car and the lab analysis on Mary Margaret's white powder was not back yet. Jewel had typed up her progress notes to Simms that thus far, there was no indication of organized Satanic/cultish activity in these killings. With the data as yet incomplete , she requested permission to continue her joint investigations into the case, did a print out, signed the papers with a flourish. Then she packed up her laptop and the files she would be running through her home computer and headed back to the loft.

Insistent knocking finally woke her. She'd been reading the new Olivia Goldsmith on the couch in her comfy old sweats, under a soft wool throw and dozed off to an older Kathy Mattea CD. More knocking. She tossed the throw aside and padded to the door in her sock feet, pushing long hair off her face and tucking it loosely behind her ears with both hands. "Who is it?" she called, and looked through the peephole. A tall man wrapped in a black leather trenchcoat, with silver touched dark hair and green sunglasses. "Kermit" they said together, and she opened the door, pulling it wide to invite him in.

Behind his shades he blinked, adjusting to the dimness of the candlelit rooms. Two jars filled with potpourri and tiny white lights stood at either end of the long living room. The cold fireplace was blazing with small white candles set into crystal votive holders, beeswax tapers and pillars burned brightly from almost every surface. In this soft light, Jewel's hair glowed deep red to her waist, and in the soft gray sweats and slouch socks, she looked barely out of her teens.

"I brought a peace offering," he said, holding out a bottle of wine, " I compromised on the white zinfandel, didn't know if you liked red or white.

She took it from him, running a small hand over the label, "I prefer the zin, actually" she said ly, "But, Kermit, you didn't owe me.."

"Yeah, I did. I went nuts when I saw that thing around your neck, and I didn't give you a chance to explain. I..I asked Caine about it, all this pagan stuff. He tried to explain the Wicca thing to me."

"You could have asked me," she said evenly, then stopped, deciding not to ask him how he had gotten her home address. If he was trying to meet her halfway, she was willing to do her part. "Why don't you sit down. Kermit? I'll..um.." she looked down at the bottle in her hand. "I'll open this."

When she returned , carrying two delicate crystal glasses , Kermit was standing in front of her floor to ceiling bookshelves. "Quite a collection" he remarked, and, handing him his glass, she looked up too and agreed. She had true crime, detective novels and classics back to back with children's favorites, contemporary fiction and a whole shelf of potboilers with broken spines. Her favorite paperbacks were patched with tape, most of them, and almost all of her books had notes in the margins. Kermit noted several texts on Wicca, crystal and herbal magics but, "No, what did Caine call it? No Dark path occult books."

She shook her head and shivered. "I don't like them in my house, even for research. That's what the library and the Internet is for."

He reached out, touching the hollow of her throat with one gentle finger. "You're not wearing your charm." She shivered again, for quite different reasons, gazing at her reflection in the dark glass of his shades.

"The cord is broken, and besides I don't need it here in the house."

"I'm sorry I broke it. I hope I didn't hurt you." he said softly, and she shook her head, then turned away. Her cheeks were flaming, from the wine she told herself.

"Yeah, all three sips of it." her voice within whispered and she drank a little more, to silence it. Smiling, he had wandered to the small white draped table under the huge windows, sans smile, he asked her about it, in a carefully neutral voice. "My altar?" she joined him there, gently touching each object as she explained it. The white and yellow candles that represented the Goddess and the God, the dulled black handled knife " an anthame" , beautiful matching chalice and censor, for incense. "This is set up from the full moon a few nights ago. In a week or so, at Beltane or May Day, I'll change it."

"What is it you do, when you celebrate?" he asked, honestly curious. This gentle girl, in her candlelit room, evoked no horror, no painfilled memories in him now.

She looked out the window, up at the moon, still bright in the sky as it waned. "For full moon? Meditate, read some poetry or sing, burn a little incense. Think about being a woman in today's world. Then I eat a bite, and sip a sup, and it's over." she turned to smile up at him. "It's a peaceful, reflective time for me, Kermit. Nothing to fear, or hate."

He nodded.

"So, what does that mean?" she asked him, "Yes, no, you're going to freak out on me again?" Jewel stepped closer, wishing she could see his eyes.

"It means, Caine told me that your beliefs were nature based, and not violent." His hands touched the sides of her face, tipping it up," you make them sound beautiful."

"To me, they are." Her hands itched to removed his glasses, but she restrained herself
sensing the line it would cross. She turned her face from his intense hidden gaze and ducked
away.

He could feel his hands tingling from the silken touch of her skin and then she was staring out at the moon again, arms folded, her face serene in profile. "The moon is a symbol of the Goddess" she remarked, " A woman's link to the Divine, so the ocean ,with its lunar tides, is Hers too."

All this symbolism. It was charming, and mystical, but something was nagging at the back of Kermit's head. "What does she look like?" he asked, going with it, letting it play out.

"The Lady? No certain form, of course , but many traditions picture her as a tall, strong woman, with long dark hair and starry eyes, moon white skin, mature and beautiful. Why?"

He shook his head, something...mature, white skinned woman, long dark hair, moon celebrations. Then, it hit him. "Jewel, your computer, you brought it home?"

"Of course." She turned in surprise, "Kermit, what is it?"

"Jewel, the last two murders, Laura Fowler, and before her, Christina Paige. Both white women, both long dark hair, late twenties, and I'm willing to bet we found them after the last full moons."

Even in the candleglow, she visibly paled. "Oh, gods, Kermit, no.." She crossed to her computer, flicking it on and scrabbling through the CDs she had brought home, slamming one into the hard drive. she flew past her passwords, and brought up the specs on each woman, including the dates found and supposed time of death. "Christina Paige, found March 20th. Laura Fowler, found April 18th. Both after the full moon, and... Sheri and Brian Tepper, found March 27th. Three days after the Sabbat of Ostara." she stared at the screen, willing another solution to come to her. "Kermit, can you get into the city files from here?"

"Just shove over, kiddo." She slid out of the seat and let the expert take over.

"Password is Lazuli" she told him, and he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"You got one called Lapis, too?" he was unable to refrain from asking.

She shot him a scornful glance. "Please." Then she was leaning in over his shoulder, intent on the info he was pulling up.

The task force was assembled at the 101st by eight a.m. Kermit and Jewel had been there a couple of hours earlier, neither had been to bed yet.

Jewel had spent the last two hours assembling the facts Kermit was pulling up, sorting them by month and by their theory, cursing under her breath with every step. "Son of a BITCH " she muttered, pacing beside the long table, "Filthy, EVIL bastard!" Outrage crackled in the air around her as they worked. When Peter came screeching in, they sat down, nervous energy sudden draining from the private investigator. She sat slumped in her chair, fingering the delicate silver moon pendant she wore, lips barely moving as she continued to curse? Or began to pray?

Kermit wondered as he began to brief the team. "You know that Ms. Adams has signed off on this as organized ritual/cult murder? That didn't preclude the idea of one nut, Satanic or otherwise, acting alone. We've been sorting city?wide murders and missing persons reports for the last few months, trying to find some kind of pattern, but we were coming up blank until last night."

Jewel looked away from them, eyes angry as she spoke. "We think he's killing according to a Wiccan calendar. Dec 21st: Xaveria Jorge and her infant son, Manuel, were reported missing up in the Heights. The 78th found them the next day, throats cut. Four days later, they had an unsolved Jane Doe, 25?30 yrs, white, dark hair, throat cut. The pagan calendar has two holidays, Sabbats, in December. Yule on the 21st, and the Full Moon on the 24th that month." She ran down the list in a flat voice, filled with an underlying rage that surprised everyone but the man who had listened to her inventive and venom filled cursing for the past two hours. Full Moon, Jan. 21st.. Alice Sheridan found in Oak Hills two days later. Another white, dark haired woman in her late twenties. Feb 1st, the feast of Imbolc, reaffirmation of faith, belief in the coming of spring. Michelle Davis and her 11 yr old son Christopher, found Feb 4th. A mature woman, and a boy not yet in puberty , but probably close. Full moon was the 18th, another Jane Doe, same physical characteristics.

Kermit took over again here. "The first body we found here in Chinatown was Christina Page, March 20th, after the full moon on the 18th. Then our married couple, on the 27th, three days after the holiday of Ostara" he glanced at her for pronunciation. "A spring holiday.. We found Laura Fowler three days ago."

Jewel stood up, leaned against the wall, arms wrapped around herself. "What we haven't found is a common link between them , so this is all theoretical. I do think that it is one person, not a gang, or the Mob, or a cult."

"Are you certain, Ms. Adams?" The younger woman sighed, ran a hand over her fraying braid.

"As certain as I can be without before we catch him, Captain. They were killed where they were found, but the investigating officers, and the ME, found no traces of any kind of ritual activity. I've read their reports and visited the sights myself, I have no reason to dispute their findings."

Peter frowned, putting pieces together. "What about the other cars? Have they been found yet?" His partner was already digging through the files on the table before them.

"Sheridan, 65 blue Mustang, found abandoned. Car was spotless" she and Peter exchanged a glance, "A residue of salt found near the vehicle." Mary Margaret tapped the file with her pencil. "Partner, how much do you want to bet that white powder of mine was salt?"

All in all, six cars had been found that belonged to the victims, each was shining clean inside and out. Traces of salt had been found in the soil around three of them.

"Some traditions make a ritual circle out of salt before starting, but a ritual involving a car? Including scrubbing it down?" Jewel shook her head.

"No," Skalany objected, "We spoke to the car wash, the Tepper's brought the car in themselves, they wanted it cleaned. This wasn't some psycho's decision."

The room was quiet a moment, then Jewel asked, "Is this a popular car wash, people from all over might stop in if they needed to?"

Kermit's face was stony and his voice harsh as he made the connection she had, "Popular enough."

Peter slammed his chair back, jumping to his feet. "No, no way," Hand scrubbing at his hair in frustration, he spoke incredulously, " I refuse to believe that these people died because they wanted their cars washed."

Jewel buried her face in her arms folded on the table. "Well, my faith in humanity is at an all time low," they heard, in a muffled voice. Kermit snorted in grim humor, but her eyes were suspiciously bright when she looked up at the sound.

11 am, two hours after opening, Simms, Skalany, Peter Caine and Kermit showed up, with three black and whites to seal off the area and provide backup. They stormed the building en masse, moving past Buffi's startled screech.

"Get down!" Peter shouted at her and she ducked behind her counter.

"James Carter, this is the police!" Simms yelled into the washing bay, gun at the ready, "James Carter, you are under arrest!" Kermit had hacked into Simons' payroll and found the one employee who had been working the dates of each murder. James Carter, previously arrested for possession with intent to sell, and assault with a deadly weapon. A slender blond man began edging away, then ran as they shouted for him to stop. Faced with two uniformed officers, and the detective closing in, he scanned the area wildly, then grabbed a young female customer, just scrambling for safety.

He flicked out a knife and held it to her throat, "Wasted blood!" he screamed, "No honor, no sacrifice! Wasted Blood!"

"Let her go, Carter. There's no way out of this." Kermit's black cannon of a gun was rock steady, and his voice was calm, no nonsense. Peter and Skalany were also locked on, and Simms was coming around the back, another two uniforms at her heels. And hell broke loose as his hostage, rejecting the traditional screaming female role, employed her strong left hand in a move her self defense teacher had called 'grab and twist," but which apparently felt like 'rip and tear'. Her captor screamed shrilly, shoving her away and she tucked her chin as the knife grazed her neck, falling heavily to the pavement. She heard a loud roar and something fell on her, pumping warm wetness over her. It was Carter. Kermit had shot him as he reached to kill her.

A knock on the half opened door, and Sgt Broderick stuck his head into Kermit's office. "Ms. Adams? I just got the call. They got him."

"Thanks for letting me know, sergeant." she said with a small smile, and released the stones she'd held in her hands since they went out, palms creased where she had clutched them tightly as she prayed. A clear quartz, for the Goddess, to ask for mercy, and a citrine, for the God, asking for success in the hunt. The pagan woman offered a heartfelt thanks to her gods, then tucked the stones into a soft velvet pouch. She stuffed it into her knapsack, opened the laptop and began typing her final report.

Jewel was dozing again when the knocking woke her, curled up in the late afternoon sun. She had been up late the night before, celebrating Beltane, meditating longer than she usually did, trying to wash the horror of the killer's "celebrations" from her mind. She needed that time, to reaffirm her faith, and not dwelling on how lonely her little office was after sharing Kermit's...

She opened the door to a large basket, sitting in the hall. Glancing up and down the corridor and seeing nothing, she cautiously toed open the wickerwork jobber, to find a serene little cat curled up on a crimson cloth. Silky ebony fur shone sleekly, and when the cat blinked, wide, spring green eyes flecked with gold regarded her calmly. Jewel dropped to her knees and the little feline flowed into her arms. "Oh, you beauty," the girl breathed, surprise and wonder in her voice, "where under the stars did you come from?"

"The shelter." Kermit stepped out, smiling down at her, hands in pockets.

"Kermit?" she raised her face , unguarded and shining with delight, and so beautiful at that moment that the tough?shelled mercenary caught his breath. He fought for control.. and lost, as her eyes filled with tears, he knelt and wrapped her securely in his embrace.

"Hey, c'mon, what's wrong?" he soothed, soft red hair under his chin, "Caine said.. I thought you'd like her, someone to share this cozy little nest of yours," her wet cheek lay against his leather covered shoulder. "Besides, you being a witch and all, you need a black cat, for your familiar. Am I right?"

She sniffed and giggled, cuddling the complaisant little beastie close, "Right."

With her new companion sleeping on the couch, her litter pan and food dishes (thoughtfully provided by Kermit) filled, Jewel walked Kermit to the door where they lingered. "You'll have to come back, to visit her," she told him and he grinned.

"I kind of planned on it," then, "what are you going to name her?"

Now she grinned, raising her hand to his cheek in a feather light touch, then gently removing his glasses.

"I was thinking about Shade," she said softly, locking eyes with him.

He cupped a hand under her chin and told her, "There's too much you don't know about me, kiddo. This could get incredibly complicated."

Jewel slipped his shades over her eyes, stood on tip toe and brushed his mouth with hers. "Oh yeah?"

End

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