“Thanks. I’m serious—this case gives me a weird feeling. There’s something creepy about it—I mean, just really creepy. I felt it the moment I walked into her house.” I stood and stretched. “I’ll be in my office after I talk to Carson.”
“Okay, I’ll call Wendy and get everything set up,” Sophia said.
“So, can you find anything?” I was sitting next to Carson, staring over his shoulder as he searched on the computer for the Tetrachordian Temple.
“A few mentions, but she’s right. This group was founded by Analee Thomas and Eric Stengale, and it’s totally regional—no mentions of it outside western Washington. No official website.” Carson shook his head. “This is odd. And where I do find a few posts by either of the two, all they do is hype the group. Think most slogans.”
“What do they say?” I asked, craning my neck.
“We can help expand your consciousness, we’ll help you control stress, find inner peace, achieve inner success, reach new levels of understanding…all the usual guru-ish things. But there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, on how they do this.” He rubbed his chin, frowning. “Even the Moonies had better PR, and they’ve been ordered to disband, at least in Japan.”
“Interesting. Any famous peeps belong to it? You know, like Scientology?” Generally, if somebody famous latched onto a cult, it would eventually have a certain prominence.
“Not that I can see. I’m going on the Dark Web and look. I have a feeling…”
“You think they’re connected to something sinister? Never mind—I’m pretty sure they are. I just don’t know what.”
I watched as Carson brought up Alt-OS, a virtual operating system that he could work through without compromising his own computer. Then, he unhooked his webcam and muted the sound. He always made sure there was nothing that could be hijacked or hacked.
When he was ready, he brought up a browser. The Dark Web had evolved over the years, becoming a full shadow-internet to itself. He typed in the name of the Tetrachordian Temple. A moment later, a small list of links came up. Curious, I leaned forward, studying the list.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to a link that hadn’t come up on the regular web.
“Let’s find out.” Carson clicked on it and brought up a website. It was written in a different language, one that looked vaguely middle-eastern, and it had precisely two pages of what appeared to be text in the language we couldn’t read. Copying and pasting, he posted it into a translate program and within seconds, the results came up: Language unrecognized. No matches.
“Unrecognized? What does that mean? I thought the translation program could translate everything.” I frowned, staring at the squiggles. Whatever the language was, it didn’t use any letters that I recognized.
“Let me check,” Carson said. He opened his laptop and did…something. I wasn’t sure what and I didn’t want to interrupt his concentration. After a moment, he sat back, shaking his head. “That’s odd.”
“What?”
“I can’t find any program that recognizes the writing. It kind of resembles Persian but it’s not. What the hell…” He took a screenshot of the website and filed it away. “I have no idea. I’ll keep working on it. I have some friends who are linguists. But I can’t guarantee anything. This may take awhile, so you might as well go back to your office.”
I laughed and he glanced at me. “Is that a not-so-subtle hint that you need some privacy so you can concentrate?”
“Yeah. I’ll have a look at the other links first, and let you know if I find anything that matters.” Immediately, he was immersed in studying the website again.
I didn’t bother saying anything, just left. Instead of returning to my office, though, I decided to tell Dante what Carson had discovered.
“Unrecognizable?” he asked. “How is that possible in today’s age, with the knowledge base of the internet, including the Dark Web?”
“I don’t know, but apparently, it’s still possible to keep some things off grid. Anyway, Carson’s working on it. He’ll let us know what he finds. He’s also going to explore the other links. I think he was worried that he might stumble on something that would shock me. Carson forgets I’m part demon and that I’ve got a stronger stomach than he thinks. But he’s a gentleman and I appreciate that.” I yawned. “What about knocking off early and hitting the pizza place?”
“Sounds good to me. Get your things and I’ll let Sophia and Carson know we’re heading out.” Dante stood, shrugging into a gold lamé jacket.
Grinning, I headed back to the breakroom, where I’d dropped off my purse and backpack. I stopped in my office to turn off everything, then returned to Sophia’s desk, where Dante was waiting.
“See you tomorrow,” Sophia said. “I’ll be finished in about half an hour.”
It was five-thirty and, outside, the clouds had rolled in.
“I wonder if it will rain and call off the game,” I said. “Of course, they’ll just close the roof if it does. The wonders of hydraulics,” I added.
We left our cars at the office and set out on foot. It wasn’t raining…yet…and it took us seven minutes exactly to read the restaurant. Joey’s Pizzeria was a little joint set back from the street. It wasn’t large, and it only had seven tables inside, but the takeout and delivery lines were packed. A table near the back was open and we grabbed it.
Complete with red gingham tablecloths and old school Formica tables, the place wasn’t much to look at. But it smelled incredible—yeasty and cheesy with all sorts of goodness. My stomach rumbled. I settled into a chair and Dante sat on the other side. As I shrugged off my jacket, a flash of lightning lit up the air and thunder rumbled not far behind.
“Summer storm,” Dante said. “All the hairs on my arms are standing up.”
