“It does.” He gave her a hug.

Jack looked down at the vacant block he’d visited during the week. His intuition was trying to tell him something. He glanced over the group of houses. One had a rickety pier that looked like it had been built by the owner. A small boat moving across the water caught his attention, the wake reminding him of the sergeant rank insignias on police uniforms. It looked like the boat had departed from the rickety pier. Someone had just left the house to do some fishing.

“Might take Johnny fishing one day.” Jack said.

“That would be good. Might have to take his friends too. He’s got some new friends. Met them at church.”

Jack’s impression of church and Christians was clouded. Morally, he agreed with the church but many so-called Christians left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew he’d have to deal with those thoughts one day.

“They’re nice boys, Jack. I know your views—mine were the same. But there are solid families in the church we’re going to, and the kids from these families reflect their parents in many ways.”

“I’ll come along with you to a service and check it out.” Jack said, tapping his fingers on the bonnet.

“I’d like that. You know the problem is evil, Jack, it’s not the church. Evil is inside and outside the church. That’s what we need to overcome and that’s why I’ve changed my attitude to what you do.”

“What do I do, love?” He stopped tapping and turned towards Erica.

“You are part of an organisation that cares for the well-being of its citizens. You’re helping to deal with the evil in the world.” She swallowed. “My only concern is the harm it can do to you.”

Jack gave her another hug. “I love you, hon.” He walked over to the edge of the road and turned back towards Erica. “The evil is real and if you dwell on it . . . it can gobble you up. I try to push the evil and darkness away with alcohol—it helps me deaden the pain I see in the world. I know it’s not right but there are times you need to escape. But we will overcome.”

“I know, love. You have it under control . . . for now,” She gave a soft nod. “I think it’s God that overcomes. We need him in our lives. He is the overcomer.”

Jack smiled. “You sound like a preacher.” But Jack knew more about the unseen world than he’d known a week ago. It was real, and dangerous. He pointed to the car. “Let’s continue our trip.” There was something different about Erica, and it was a good thing.

Jack took one last look at the houses. The rickety pier was dominant. He followed the pathway up from the pier. Something caught his attention. A large black shadow surrounded one of the windows. The shadow swayed, and he realised that it was a swarm of insects. What would attract such a huge number of insects? Jack had a concern as he’d seen something like this before and the man-who-sees-things, Churchie, mentioned witches and swarms of insects. Jack’s neurons were firing and he didn’t like where his thoughts were going. It was more likely that someone had left food out and it was rotting. Nothing to do with witchcraft. 

<°)))><

Jack intended to drive past the house, but his intuition wouldn’t let him. He had to stop, had to see for himself. He’d heard intuition is mysterious, almost magical, and with what he’d dealt with over the past week . . . logic was the last thing he was going to listen to.

He slowed the car down. “Hon, there’s something I need to check. Something I noticed”.

Erica looked at him, silent for a moment, and then gave an ‘okay’ nod. “Once a policeman, always a policeman.”

Jack parked the car across from the house, and left Erica to check her messages on her phone. The house was surrounded by a wire fence with white posts. Jack walked over to the side of the house—the swarm of flies was still there. He thought he could hear them buzzing, but that could’ve been his imagination adding to the drama.

He went back to the front of the house, opened the wire gate, and followed a paved path to the front door. There was a door chime guarded by a sculpture of what looked like a dragon. He pressed the button and heard it echoing through the house. He waited. No sound from inside. 

He rang again. Same result.

He tried the door. Locked. He looked around the other houses and all was quiet—everyone was out doing their Saturday morning shopping. He didn’t want to force the door without a good reason, so decided to walk around the side of the house. The swarm of flies sensed his presence and seemed to form into a shape of a head. Jack laughed to himself. An old timber box had been left nearby, so he picked it up and walked towards the swarm. Most flew away but some bolder flies stayed. Jack shooed them away. 

The window had no coverings, so he placed the box below the window and stood on it, as a fly buzzed past his head. Sunlight poured into the room. He tried the window, but it was locked. Good, because his intuition told him there would be an odour, although he couldn’t smell anything from out here. So what had attracted the flies? 

Maybe Churchie was right. Maybe insects were a Wiccan thing.

He cupped his hand over his eyes to provide a better view through the glare. A sudden coldness swept over him. A woman was seated on a chair in front of a mirror, the skin on her face tight and pale. There was a puddle underneath the chair. She was dead.

Jill Winter.

He got down from the box. Had the flies been here for her? Had they come to help her? He looked around and saw a tarp over an object the shape of a car at the rear of the house. He walked over and lifted the tarp so he could see more of the car, including the number plate. He’d seen this car before. He thought of the lady with a gun leaning on her gate. 

It was time to call for reinforcements and the ambulance, then go back to the car and tell Erica. This wasn’t an experience he wanted to share.

Jill Winter was inside, dead. But where was the wizard?

40 – All serve a purpose

TOBY WATTS TURNED OUT OF THE MARINA as the police car entered. They gave him a brief look and then continued. He knew they’d have found the car, that they’d have checked the number plate in their computer system, but he had no concerns. The car they’d found was registered in a friend’s name and had no connection to the one he was driving today. He drove on, watching the rear vision mirror, watching water spilling onto the road from his boat on the trailer. No police car followed.

His gut told him they’d discovered her body, and were looking for someone in a boat. But he was too clever for them. He’d always be one step ahead. They’d caught him once before, but they’d made the mistake of setting him free. And that was what he was going to stay—a free man.

His lady had been making mistakes. It had been so easy to influence her, to direct her to doing the things he wanted done. He was happy to be an accessory to the crime but an uncaught one. It energised him, excited him. But she’d made mistakes and his freedom was more important. The gods brought them together, and he would meet her again in the afterlife.

Her death did nothing for him. It didn’t energise him, didn’t excite him.

But this Ruby girl was a wounded animal, and that made her a dangerous animal. She needed to be dealt with before she became dangerous. That was his motive but really, he just wanted to kill the girl. 

It was as simple as that. 

And there were gods to please. If the gods weren’t pleased, bad things could happen to him. Pathways had been set. He knew the gods wanted this girl dead, so he would oblige. He knew death had some kind of meaning to the gods. He knew the big God didn’t agree with such things, but that wasn’t relevant.

He didn’t believe in the big God.

Jill Winter had served her purpose. And now he was going to visit another lady who would serve hers.

<°)))><

Shoana opened the door. “You look different. Even younger.”

He gave her a hug and felt the coldness there. She said sweet things but something wasn’t right. She was distant.

“Thank you,” Toby said, rubbing his beardless chin. “Feels a bit raw.”

“You may need some moisturiser.”

She had to be kidding. He hadn’t adopted the trend for men to put creams on their faces. That was for wimps. He knew things were changing, but he was from the old school and that’s where he was staying. Anyway, prison and moisturisers didn’t mix.

“Sorry, not a moisturiser person.” He rubbed his head which also felt prickly. “But I’m a bearer of good news.”

She seemed nervous, hesitant.

“And what would that be?”

“I’m free. We have gone our separate ways.” In more ways than one. “My energies are now assigned to you.” He sensed a darkness entering his mind. 

Not now. Go away.