Jackson 05 - The Immortals Read Online Free Page A

coordinate a mass suicide and carve pentacles into their flesh as they were dying?
    No. These crimes were committed by an outside hand. One who’d struck quickly, mercilessly and efficiently.
    Taylor saw McKenzie putting Letha King into a patrol car. It pulled away, the child’s blank stare fixed forward. McKenzie stood next to Taylor, watching her go.
    â€œWhat’s up?” Taylor asked. “She give you anything?”
    â€œShe hasn’t said much of anything. I thought it best to hold on to her until her aunt comes to get her, out of the house, at least. She called a few minutes ago, she’s on her way.”
    â€œGood. We’ll want to talk to her again, once things settle down.”
    They walked back to the Kings’ house. Despite the crowd, the kitchen was strangely quiet.
    Baldwin handed her a stack of photos. “Are you ready? Simari gave me her extra Polaroids so we can start recreating the scenes. Though I’ll be able to pull this from memory for a while.”
    â€œNo kidding. Have all the victims been identified?”
    Lincoln nodded. “For the most part, yes. There’s going to be formal IDs done for a few of them tomorrow, once next of kin are notified. Two of the families are traveling.”
    â€œWe can’t release names to the media until we have all the notifications done. I think it would be best to wait, make all the names public at once.”
    â€œWe can try, but you know some of the names will leak. Nature of the beast.”
    â€œI know. Do your best, okay? Run me through the scenes, give me some names to put with the faces. After Jerrold King and Ashley Norton, who was found next?”
    She laid the pictures on the granite countertop. Lincoln shuffled them around until he had them in order.
    â€œWe have Jerrold, then Ashley Norton. The two doubles after that, Xander Norwood and Amanda Vanderwood, then Chelsea Mott and Rachel Welch. Then we go back to a single we just found, Brandon Scott.” He tapped the last photograph. The picture showed the rictus-gripped face of a young man who’d not seen enough sunrises. Beautiful features ruined by death. Taylor wondered what they looked like alive, then pushed that thought away. No sense in it—she’d be haunted by their death masks forever.
    â€œAre you hearing of any links between the victims? Any enemies?”
    â€œNo. No one knows a damn thing.”
    â€œWhere was the first couple found?”
    â€œAt the Vanderwood girl’s house.”
    â€œThen let’s go there.”
    The trek didn’t take them long—the Vanderwoods’ house was only a quarter mile up Estes. It was less showy than the previous two homes, smaller, with whitewashed clapboard and a red front door. All the lights were on, and crime-scene techs darted in and out. A small group of neighbors watched silently from the lawn, sadness etched on their faces.
    The stairs seemed endless, the now-familiar scent of jasmine clinging to the air in the hallway. Amanda’s room was the first at the top of the stairs. A death investigator took pictures, the shutter’s snap rang in Taylor’s ears. It was one of the most common sounds she heard at a crime scene, but it felt invasive and new tonight.
    Xander Norwood was on the floor, on his back, naked. Amanda Vanderwood was also nude, her body faceup and partially on the bed, arms trailing onto the floor. Taylor noticed that Amanda’s forefinger was touching Xander’s palm. It looked like she’d managed to use the last of her strength to partially shift her body off the bed, and Xander had reached out to her, struggling to get their flesh together in the waning moments of their young lives. Love everlasting.
    For the first time in many years of crime scenes, Taylor felt sick to her stomach.
    Wouldn’t Baldwin’s caress be the last she’d ever want to feel? Wouldn’t his face be the last image she’d want to see,