“It was the same for the guys on the soccer team, rugby team, the swim team, the student council, the anime club, and the key club,” I plowed on. “All of these groups had at least four guys who were friendly enough with each other that they might plan to kidnap the pretty, popular girl before she moved away, but again, they all had plenty of pictures of them at celebration dinners and parties during the time she was taken.
“So, then, I looked at guys who knew me and not Dora.” I slid down to the board to a shot of a guy with a scruffy beard and surprised expression. “This is Nelson Chance. He was a regular at the Grill who wouldnotstop hitting on me. It got so bad, that whenever he came in, it didn’t matter if he sat in my section. My boss would have one of the male servers wait on him.
“I knew it was thin, but if there was any chance he was so pissed at my constant rejections, he got a bunch of his buddies and broke into our house that night, I had to know,” I said. “At first, he didn’t want to tell me where he was or what he was doing, so I hired a private investigator. Ms. Abreu tailed him for a week and figured out that on Friday nights”—I winced—“he sees his mistress.
“The same private investigator crossed off my coworkers,” I told him, pointing to their X’d out faces, “and my bosses. All of them had verifiable alibis for the night Dora was taken. But where did that leave me?” I shot at his slackened jaw. “If they were taken by masked or modified strangers, and I didn’t hallucinate their horrible bodies because I couldn’t face the truth of Dora being taken by people I know, then that left me with one clue. The only true clue to their identities.”
That sent me running to the second board where pinned, directly in the middle, was the Abaddon Academy patch. “The logo.” I beamed at him—brimming with the satisfaction of my new discovery.
He didn’t smile back.
“The logo,” I repeated. “Don’t you see? The logo was the key the whole time! I know you said it was a dead end because there is no Abaddon Academy. Anywhere. In the world. No school. No band. No club. No gang. No nothing. But I couldn’t just accept that. Too much was going on for me to notice before, but even though they were all wearing ripped, burned, or dirty clothes, I’m one hundred percent positive they were all wearing this patch.
“Why?” I beseeched him. “Why would all four of them glue this thing to their clothes if it meant nothing at all? Answer: they wouldn’t.”
He tossed his head. “Well, of course, it must mean something, Miss Hunter, but whatever it means was known only to them. For all we know, itwasthe patch for their band, gang, or club. Either they’re not very popular, or they haven’t shared the name of their group widely, because said group is involved in criminal activity,” Daniels said. “Not a far leap considering the name they chose for the group.”
“But that’s it, don’t you see?! The name,” I cried. “Abaddon is a Hebrew term, and of course, you’re not going to grasp all the cultural significance and translations of a word just from messing around online. That’s why I had to go to Israel and consult an Old Testament scholar who—”
“Excuse me, what?” he broke in. “You went where? Did you just say Israel?”
“Yes, of course.”
He goggled at me. “How did you afford that? I spoke to your boss yesterday. He said he had to let you go two weeks ago.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just sold my car.”
“You sold—!”
“That doesn’t matter,” I sounded off. “Are you listening to me? You’re not listening to me! I’m telling you that I spoke witha scholar who told me that in the Bible, Abaddon is a place of destruction or—get this!—a realm of the dead.” I met his eyes, sharing in the shock of this revelation.
He blinked. “Okay... and?”
“And?” I cried. “Don’t you get it? Hideous, unnatural creatures with super strength and red eyes who come from a land of the dead? And not a nice land of the dead. A land of the dead that’s synonymous with destruction.” I held my hands out to him, waiting for the penny to drop.
“Hell, Detective Daniels! Hell! They came from hell which means...” I tapped the lone, single word I scribbled on a piece of paper the night before and stuck on the board. “Demons. My sister was taken by demons.”
He stared at me, his unnerving gaze stretching the silence past comfort.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I pressed. “Demons.”
“No... I heard you.”
I blew out a breath. “Okay, yes, I know how it sounds. I saw them with my own eyes, and it’s taken me this long to accept it, but now that I have, we can finally stop looking in all the wrong places for Dora.”
Again with the long, uncomfortable look. “So, you’re saying you expect me to look for your sister... in hell.”
“What? No,” I cried, surging forward. “Obviously you can’t do that.”
“Obviously.”
“It’s called a realm of the dead for a reason,” I went on. “No, it’s clear that someone—maybe even some of the people I thought were in the clear—summoned demons to kidnap my sister while they were miles away partying it up or banging their mistress. Theyknewthey’d have an unbreakable alibi, and if I ever spouted off about demons, everyone would dismiss me as crazy. Do you see!” I blurted, making him jerk back. “It’s theperfect plan,andmore than that, I bet it’s been done before. I bet it’s done all the time! That’s why so many people disappear without a trace.”
Grabbing the corkboard, I spun it on its wheels—showing him the back. “Do you see?” I rasped, eyes bugging. “I got back from Israel three days ago, and I’ve already dug up all this stuff on demon summoning, rituals, protective circles, and ceremonial magic. These practices have been going on for centuries! I mean, we’re talking ancient Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, the Renaissance!”
“Miss Hunter—”
“It’s called evocation, and it exists in so manypresent-dayreligions and cultures. These practices have been handed down for generations, and now I know why—because it’s real! Because demons are—”
