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J slumped onto her butt on the floor. "We can't arrest a ghost, T, and with Mackey and the Feds unable to find the bodies we have nothing to go on except your and Vera's witness statements." She thought of the bloody clothes in the trash. They could test it for DNA but to what end? J was right. They could arrest the women if they found enough evidence but there were no bodies to testify of their crimes. Even Deputy Butler had disappeared.

"I need to find out what happened inside the circle. I need to know what Vera did."

Chapter 46

Vera

Vera pushed her weight down on the crooked mattress spring, wincing as metal hit bone. She let the pain settle in. A familiar ache she could control, unlike the one inside her—a specific kind of malignant cancer. One that couldn’t be radiated or cut out. Some things were so deeply entrenched they became part of DNA itself. Altering, twisting, carving out other things to make room.

A single tear fell across the bridge of her nose and seeped into the pillow as she looked out the window of her bedroom in Ximena’s house. It’d been twenty-four hours since Mackey pushed her into that government vehicle like she owned it.

“Who the hell are you?” Vera asked, still rubbing at her wrists. Mackey leaned back in the leather seat. Settling in as if they had all the time in the world.

“Now? A business owner. Formerly? A lot of people with too many names and faces to recount. We’re similar in that way, you know.” Vera didn’t know. Mackey was Teddi’s boss, that was the extent of how well she knew the woman.

“So you’re former FBI.”

The side of Mackey’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “Let’s just say I’m in the fortunate position to be here in this car with you instead of watching you leave in the back seat with handcuffs. Or, still on, I should say. Those burns are pretty nasty.”

Overwhelm choked her, exhaustion peeling away the last bit of her patience. “What the fuck is going on? I’ve had enough riddles for the night, week, and year.”

Folding her hands over her lap, she looked like the epitome of ease in a white button-down top tucked into tweed cigarette pants. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her leather shoes. “What do you remember from the last few hours?”

It was a murky picture of memory and sensation. Shapes and sounds. Pain and desire. Her face burned with the realization of the last emotion. She wasn’t sure what it was that she desired, but it’d been there massaging her heart, egging her on.

“What is said here, stays here, Vera. Trust that I am on your side.”

“Then why do I get the sense that you already know what happened?”

Her lips pursed. “I worked, and occasionally still do, with a group of individuals that seek answers. Answers that people in power don’t often want uncovered. It’s my job to know what’s happening in Colorado and on a larger scale. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She could imagine well enough. A former government agent with connections spanning beyond borders. It wasn’t unheard of. Like the first trainer she had when she went undercover, people like Mackey were hushed whispers. Real, not real, no one could verify but everyone knew of them like urban legends. The Others. The shadows.

“There’s time for us to discuss what I do at length later. Right now, I’m trying to help you get out of this mess in one piece. I know some things but not everything about what happened.” There was an earnestness in her eyes that told Vera she was telling the truth. And as her bones seemed to become heavier by the second, she wanted so badly to believe her.

“The women, the wives. They had Sheriff Malis on the rock. Whipping, mutilating, beating him. They cut the same appendages from his body as the other victims.” Mackey passed her a water bottle from beneath one of the seats. She chugged it, trying to wash down the swell of emotion clawing at her throat. “I think… I remember them handing me a knife but everything after that is—”

“Hazy.” Mackey looked like she’d heard the answer before.

“Did I…” She didn’t want to ask, to know, but the need to override the life-altering fear. She had to know what she was capable of this time. “I think I did something.”

“Sheriff Malis is nowhere to be found. I saw no evidence of a crime out in that field. As for the women and the rest of this town, there will be interviews but I’m not holding my breath.”

“What are you talking about? I saw it, I saw him!” Her bellowed words echoed inside the vehicle. “I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.” The words were more for herself than Mackey.

“I believe you.” For the second time, she was shocked to hear the sentiment.

“Why?”

Pulling a manila envelope out of the briefcase at her feet, she passed it over. Inside were pictures from the glade. Men mutilated on the rock. Blood stains down the sides. Scanning the third image she realized the forest in the background was green, not black.

“Look at the date.” On the bottom right corner read February second, nineteen ninety-seven. “The crime scene photos you’re looking at occurred about an hour outside Morgantown, West Virginia.”

Impossible. The wounds were the same. Some limbs were missing like Adam Maller and Deputy Gunson. One of the men’s jaw was dislocated so irreparably that it hung off of his skull, only attached by battered skin. “They did this?” Vera whispered.

“No.” She couldn’t hide her shock when she looked up. “I’ve been looking at this case file for almost thirty years. None of the residents in Sylen ever stepped foot in West Virginia. But one entity has. Look at the autopsy photos.”

“Why didn’t J find this case? Why didn’t you tell us beforehand?” She asked as she flipped through the pages.