Free Silent Doll by Sonnet O'Dell Page B

on time. Come on in and take a seat.”
    He gave me a brief smile as he came inside and shut the door behind him. I took my chair behind my desk, crossed my knees over and cupped my clasped hands over it. He took one of the comfortable leather chairs across from me.
    “Evening,” he said, looking around him. It had to be the first time that Hamilton had come to my office, although he knew where it was.
    “So, Hamilton, what is it you wanted to see me about?”
    He brought a soft leather briefcase onto his lap, unsnapped it and pulled out a folder. He pushed it across the desk toward me. I flipped it open and started reading. It was a police report dated three weeks ago, detailing the murder of another young woman.
    Molly Howard, twenty-five, was found in the alley next to her building. Her heart had been removed. There were color photos attached.
    I swallowed, regretting the sandwich I had before coming down to the office. It was pretty much the same sort of wound: a stab to kill, then the heart was taken out almost delicately. Whoever had taken it wanted the heart whole.
    I laid the folder down, closing my eyes, and took a deep breath before looking at Hamilton.
    “How many more are there?”
    Hamilton brought out three more folders and slapped them down on the desk. I read them all; the last one held the full work-up on the woman from last night.
    “So, four women are dead. All with the same method.”
    “Yes,” he said, and he looked a little guilty. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I was hoping serial killer, but I can’t find any of the normal things we associate with serial killers. No commonality between the victims, no signature but the hearts. I’m suspecting some sort of occult connection, and you’re my expert.”
    “As I said, I can look into it, but I’m thinking black magic.”
    “I thought I heard somewhere that magic wasn’t good or bad.”
    “Technically? No. Magic itself is just a force, a power that is completely neutral. It’s the wielder that determines whether or not it’s for good or for bad. Unfortunately, you can’t escape calling it black magic; it’s just the most common term.”
    Hamilton rubbed the bridge of his nose, seeming tired. He said, “I don’t know how many more we can expect; we’re no closer to finding who’s behind it than we were three weeks ago. I’m just at a dead end.”
    “There is absolutely no connection between the victims?”
    “Apart from the fact that they are all women in their twenties? They are all different shapes, heights, races, hair color, eye color. None of them knew each other, they didn’t go to any clubs or activities in the same places, none of their occupations were the same. One was married, the next lived alone, the other lived with a roommate.”
    I put my hand up in a stop gesture. “It’s okay. I get the point.”
    “I should have come to you sooner. I knew this was weird the minute it landed in my lap, but…”
    I couldn’t read his mind, but I could read his face. “You didn’t want Rourke sticking her nose in. This would be something she would fight you for.”
    He shook his head. “I’ve been doing this job for a long while, Cassandra, and the job never gets done when departments end up fighting among themselves. She’s so determined to get out of PCU that it affects her work.”
    I leaned my head against one hand. “Yeah I had noticed that. You can take these.” I pushed the folders back over to him.
    “How long do you think it will take you to find something?”
    “If I start on this tonight, maybe a day. I can call in a favor to get me to the materials I’ll need.”
    “Anything you can come up with,” he said, standing. He reached across the desk and we shook hands; then I rose to my feet to show him to the door.
    “I’ll come by your office tomorrow night.”
    “All right.” I held the door open and he stepped out into the corridor, turning back to look at me.
    “Cassandra,” he said, “be