Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

found a little mashed-out place in a mesquite thicket. Whoever done it had themselves a little party."
    "Party?"
    "They made a ring of blood on the ground and poured out a star shape in the middle of it. Devil worshippers, the cops called it. Never did catch nobody."
    "Did it ever happen again?"
    "Not on that big a scale. They got reports now and then, dogs mutilated and such as that. Cops said some of them devil worshippers was known to actually drink the blood." The man's face wrinkled in revulsion. "Kindly hard to believe, ain't it?"
    "Not in this crazy world," Julia said. "Did you ever hear of any mutilations of people?"
    "Hell, that was Texas," he said. "People would throw down on each other with knives over which model of pickup was best. Sometimes they'd whittle a fellow right down to the bone."
    "Do you think somebody in Elkwood is killing animals?"
    He shook his head. "It can't happen here. Not in a town like this. They’re good, God-fearing folks who live by the Bible."
    "That's what they say everywhere," said Julia.
    "Excepting Los Angeles. And maybe New York."
    Julia smiled and nodded. "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Cole. Look for the story next week. It'll be the piece that's so warm and fuzzy that fluff will drift off the pages."
    "I sure appreciate it, ma'am."
    He called after her as she headed for her car. "Sure you don't want to take one home with you?"
    She paused with the car door open. She scanned the entire shelter, the tiny shack that served as the office, a larger shed that housed the cats, the cinder block-and-wire kennels for the dogs. The dogs by the fence were sitting now, except for the little white dog with the furry butt. Its tail whipped back and forth, the dark eyes shining in some secret game.
    Don't make me feel guilty , she mentally commanded the dog. That's all I need is another thing to worry about. I've got enough on my mind. Like my own selfishness. That takes up ALL my time, you little Fido or Fidette.
    "I don't think my lease allows it," she said to the manager.
    "Well, you think about it." He waved.
    "I will," she said, getting in the car. I most definitely will.
    As she drove back to town, she thought of what she'd written in her journal this morning, wondered if it was the kind of thing Dr. Forrest wanted. She'd awakened on the first brittle cry of the alarm, the clock having kept time through the night. Even before going to the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she opened a notebook and wrote down her dream.
    The same dream.
    The one of the bones hidden under the floor.
    The floor wasn't the one in her house, or of any house she had lived in. It was of long wooden planks, tongue-in-groove hardwood. For some strange dream-reason, she had to keep the secret of the buried bones from others. She was pretty sure she hadn't buried the bones, hadn't killed anyone, but that part of the dream wasn't very clear.
    Maybe Dr. Forrest would know what it meant. Dr. Forrest had helped her decipher an earlier dream, one where Julia was pregnant and a snake was trying to take her baby. According to the Freudian interpretation, the snake was her father, and the fetus was herself as a small child. Therefore, Julia's father had stolen her childhood, and was the one to blame for Julia's current disorder.
    She was still thinking about her father when she pulled into the parking lot of the Courier-Times office. The afternoon sun was behind her, and she saw her reflection coming to meet her in the glass of the front door. Did she look like her father? She could scarcely remember his true face, only the one she had fashioned out of dim memory. Was he alive? Why had he left her? How much of him still lived on in her? How much should she hate him?
    She shivered, even though the day was warm, and went inside. Rick was waiting in the chair beside her desk.
    "Hey there," he said. "How are you?"
    "I'm fine, thanks. And thanks for last night. I really needed to get out."
    "Yeah, I could tell. Maybe you need to get out more?" He leaned toward her, smiling, as she sat.
    "Are you asking me?"
    "Maybe," he said.
    "You know I'm engaged, right?"
    He waved his hands as if brushing aside a cobweb. "You've been here four months, and I've not seen any sign of this knight in shining armor. He can't be too big a part of your life."
    Julia booted up her computer. Rick finally decided she wasn't going to take the bait. "So, what did you think of my Satanic murder theory?"
    "Pretty creative," she said. "I guess