"Blood magic." Anthony mutters as he fiddles with the food he ordered for lunch at a nearby diner. I can smell the strong scent of pepper and basil, making my mouth water as I eye the meal he's ordered. "Not an appetizing topic to talk about over lunch."
I grin, glad to see he has found his sense of humor. "Definitely not. Mason says he's made arrangement for a place for us to crash for our stay here, says he'll text me the address once it's settled."
A gaunt middle aged woman in a tacky pink apron decorated with frills arrives with my meal and I let out a sigh of relief. She places down the plate which contained the hamburger that I ordered. "Can I get you anything else?" She smiles, eyeing Anthony as she puts a hair behind her ear. Anthony smiles back, oblivious to the event that was unfolding in front of us. "No, thank you."
I roll my eyes and prepare to take a bite out of my burger when my phone rings, its monotonous buzzing begging for my attention as it waddles around the table. I put the burger down and checked to see who it was. MASON. "This is Mike, what's up?"
"Just called to te- that the place you were s-supposed to be staying at is - a no go." His gruff voice is crackled over the call, which made it difficult to understand what he was saying.
"Hello? Can you repeat that?" I say in reply, now really eager to eat my burger. The phone gets cut off and I turn to look at Anthony who simply shrugs. A couple of minutes into the meal, my phone receives a text from Adam.
'Phone call was messed up, something wrong with the phone lines. Text seems to be doing fine. As I was saying, the place for you to stay was no good. Owner says someone beat us to it, which means you'll be staying at my place. I'll pick you up after lunch.'
This was a sudden change of plans which meant that we had less expenses to worry about. 'Noted, just text when you're on your way.' I text back before I immediately gobble up the hamburger.
Lunch passes by quick as Anthony prepares to pay the bill. The place was silent, with only a couple of others dining with us. Anthony nudges for us to leave and I immediately follow him towards the door when a woman bumps Anthony on his way out. "I'm so sorry." She mutters before she hurries towards the back of the room, her red dress visible beneath her jacket.
"What was that all about?" I ask, genuinely confused as to what just happened.
Anthony looks at me with the same confused look. "No idea, must've been in a hurry." The doors to the diner open with a ding as we spot Mason on his motorcycle beside our car. He waves to us and I wave back.
"I know you guys just got here but there's news of another murder nearby. You guys might wanna check it out." He says, handing over the case file for us to read.
The folder was clean, like it was newly bought. I open it to see photographs of a crashed car on the road towards the place. Anthony peers over my shoulder and speaks. "That's the accident we saw on the way here."
Mason shakes his head in disagreement. "This was no accident. The family's throats were slit the same way the boys' throats were." He points to a photograph of the bodies, half burnt in the flames caused by the crash. Their necks had a huge gash, as if someone thrust a very large knife into them. Their eyes were also empty, with fresh trails of blood dripping on the sides of their pale faces.
"I'll go ahead and check it out. I'll leave the unpacking to Anthony." I turn to look at Anthony who only nods, his blonde hair turning bright in the afternoon sun. "Alright then. I've got money for a cab, just send me the address and I'll catch up to you guys later."
The motorcycle whirs to life as Mason turns on the ignition; the low mechanical hum of the contraption fills the parking area. The car starts next and in a moment, they take off. My eyes fall on a cab passing through the diner and I gesture for it to stop. It pulls over and I enter which made me realize that every taxi uses the same air freshener for their cars. "Where do you want me to take you sir?"
I give him the address of the accident and tell him to step on it. He follows, swerving in between lanes until we arrive at the site just a couple of minutes later. I tip him a bit more than I should have and step out of the car.
A white convertible is turned over in front of me, surrounded by several yellow tapes. A policeman on standby sees me approaching and steps in front of me. "Where are you off to, son?"
I pull out the fake I.D constructed by the office and show it to him. "Jacob Miller, F.B.I. Was sent to take a look at the site and would appreciate it if you let me through."
"My bad, but why are the feds getting involved in such a small time incident? Surely you've got some other places to be?" He asks as he makes way for me to pass through, his white moustache reminds me of a walrus.
I flash him a smile before responding. "I'm afraid that information is confidential, sir. Thank you for your hardwork." I salute him and he responds, seemingly flustered by my sudden act.
The car was completely trashed, its headlights were shattered and the windows were no different. According to the report, there were three members of the family, which were the parents and a little child. The parents were found dead, while the three-year old child was found missing. 'Why was he taken though?' The backgrounds of the family had nothing to make them stand out as well, which doesn't help with anything.
I check the wheels for any sign of damage, finding none. I duck underneath the debris and check the seats for any sort of clue. There was something stuck beneath them, a small pouch that I couldn't seem to pull. My eyes catch a glimpse of a red writing covered by the floor mat that was safely pinned to stick to the car floor. I grab the ends and start to pull, which causes the car to creak with me underneath it. 'Fuck!' The car tilts and I could barely roll to the side before the weight shifts, causing it to fall over with a loud bang as pieces of shattered glass scatter on the spot I was just in.
"Everything okay son?" The policeman shouts, alarmed by my carelessness.
"Fine! That was my bad!" I shout back as I proceed to duck again. On the car floor, the same symbols that were found on the shack were written in red. I reach underneath the seat once again and pull the object from underneath. 'A hex bag.'
This was definitely no accident, and the previous murder may be connected to this one. My phone buzzes from underneath my coat and I look to see who was calling. UNKNOWN NUMBER. I accept the call, putting the phone on my ear. "I see you..." The call abruptly ends before I get the chance to respond and I was surprised to see that it was not recorded in the call log. Whoever was behind this is on to us, and it appears that we can't say the same.