Ash Return of the Beast

CHAPTER 10



Three Months Later…

Kane and Officer Wheeler stepped out of the elevator and hurried down the hall toward the photo lab. When they entered the lab Kane was surprised to find Ravenwood sitting at a table, sipping coffee and chatting with one of the technicians.

As she turned in her chair to greet Kane, her short black skirt slid up, revealing enough shapely thigh to spark Kane’s imagination––more so than he would ever admit.

She smiled. “Morning, Lieutenant. Glad you could join us.”

“Hmph,” Kane grunted. “I should have known. How the hell did you––? Never mind.” He took a seat next to her and turned to Wheeler whose eyes seemed to be glued to Ravenwood’s legs. “Well, don’t just stand there gawking at the scenery, Wheeler. Grab a seat.” Then he addressed Bob ‘Mack’ MacIntire, the lab tech. “So how did we get this, Mack? Have you seen it yet?”

MacIntire nodded. “It’s an old style surveillance tape. One of the detectives noticed the camera hidden under the eves of the victim’s home.

Kane glanced down at the report on the table. “Reverend Paul Hansen. Victim number five. The body that we found this morning.”

MacIntire nodded. “There were two other cameras in different locations around the perimeter of the house but this is the only one that had anything on it. I’m the only one who’s seen it so far. We were waiting for you to get here.”

Kane looked surprised. “A preacher had a surveillance system? Pretty weird.”

MacIntire shrugged. “I heard the guys saying something about the vic’s house being burglarized a couple times in the past. Guess he just got paranoid, you know?”

Kane nodded. “Okay, Mack, run it. Do we have a good shot of the purp?”

“Not really. Whatever actually happened to the victim takes place just out of range of the camera. But what you can see is pretty weird. Take a look.”

The grainy, black and white footage showed a small portion of the back yard and part of the side of the house. The camera had been situated so it would capture the image of anyone approaching the back door. For a minute there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. Then a dark figure in a hooded robe suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Kane’s head jerked back. “Wait a minute! What the hell? Run that again and slow it down.”

MacIntire ran the footage again, back and forth several times, in slow motion.

Kane shot a puzzled look at MacIntire. “How can that be? Did you examine the tape? It looks like maybe it’s been edited. Something spliced out. Or the image of the man spliced in. Something...”

MacIntire shook his head. “The tape’s in perfect condition. Nothing’s been done to it. I told you it was weird. But it gets weirder. Check it out.”

MacIntire ran the tape from the point where the mysterious figure suddenly appeared. In a moment the back door opened and the pastor stepped out. He walked a few feet into the yard and simply stood, facing the hooded figure. The pastor’s movements were slow, emotionless, robotic, and showed no signs of distress or panic. Then the head of the hooded figure tilted to the right as if motioning for the pastor to move in that direction. The pastor, with his arms hanging loosely at his side, turned as if in a trance and slowly moved to the right. The hooded figure glanced up toward the camera but his face was so shrouded in the shadow of the large hood that not a single identifying feature could be discerned. The hooded stranger turned and followed behind the pastor until they were both out of the frame.

Kane rubbed his forehead and grumbled. “That’s it? That’s all we get?”

“Hold on,” MacIntire said. “There’s more.” He hit the fast-forward button, absorbing about 15 minutes of elapsed time, then he cut it back to normal speed. “Watch this.”

After a few moments the hooded figure moved back into the frame and glanced up toward the camera once again. Then he turned his back to the camera and slowly lowered the hood of his robe revealing not much more than the figure’s shoulder-length hair, possibly black. Then the figure raised both arms straight out to the side in a deliberate and ritualistic manner. He remained motionless for a moment then lowered his head. An instant later he didn’t exist, he simply vanished from the screen.

MacIntire stopped the tape. “Ever seen anything like that in your life?”

Mitch Wheeler sat with his mouth open, speechless.

Kane had one question. “What…the f*ck…was that?” He turned to Special Agent Ravenwood, the one person he thought might possibly be able to provide an answer.

Ravenwood looked at Kane and then at MacIntire. “I’ll need a copy of that tape as soon as possible.”

Kane chuckled. “Well, I’ll be damned. Are you telling me our resident witch has no idea what the hell we just saw?”

Ravenwood wasn’t about to admit that she was as perplexed as anyone else in the room. She stood up, tugged at her skirt, grabbed her briefcase, straightened her shoulders, flipped her hair and clicked briskly across the room. She stopped at the door, turned briefly to Kane and gave him an enigmatic smile that would have made the Mona Lisa jealous. “I’ll be in touch, Lieutenant.”

Kane stared at the door as it closed behind her. “Hate that woman,” he grumbled.

Wheeler stood up and stretched. “I’d do her.”

Kane shot him a look. “Shut up, Wheeler.”