Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

Julia."
    He nodded.
    "Thanks," she said. "For . . . you know."
    "Might want to lock your door," he said, braver now with the distance between them. "There's bums and creeps everywhere, even in Elkwood. 'Night, Julia."
    She waved, closed and locked the door, then stood leaning against it, replaying the sound of his saying her name. She found herself comparing it to the way Rick said it, the way Mitchell had said it back in more innocent days.
    "Jooolia," Walter pronounced it, stretched out and lazy, a musical "ooo" in the middle. Jooolia, the way her dad had once teased. Mitchell's high-brow friends said "Jewlia," more precisely adding the "you" sound.
    She took the wooden box from her purse and examined it. This relic didn't belong in Elkwood, in the new life she was trying to build. Maybe Mitchell, as screwed-up as he turned out to be, was right about one thing: perhaps the past should have been left buried.
    If I were stronger, able to control my anxiety better, we could have been married years ago, and I'd be happy now. Mitchell wouldn't have resorted to—
    No. The attempted rape wasn't her fault, no matter what kind of tricks her mind tried to play. And she wasn't to blame because Mitchell had tracked down and hired a Creep to prowl in her underwear drawer and try to steal the engagement ring. If he were in financial trouble, she would have gladly pawned the ring and given him the money. She would have been happy with a simple diamond chip, or no ring at all. Jewelry had never created a commitment or love through its precious substances alone.
    Dr. Forrest would sort it all out in the morning. In the meantime, a night of hours must pass.
    Maybe, if she acted as if this were the end of a perfectly normal day, she could survive. Papers waited on her desk, notes for articles. Other chores required her attention. Reality exerted its own brand of pressure. And reality offered an escape, however briefly, from dark thoughts.
    Julia booted up her computer, surprised that the screen saver didn't exhibit some sinister message. Other appliances seemed to belong to the unseen forces of Evil, why not her computer? With any luck, her toaster might start spouting backwards Led Zeppelin lyrics.
    She connected to the Internet, knowing she should get to work on her articles. But first she checked her e-mail, one of her strongest addictions besides coffee. A few posts from her Cardinals newsgroup speculated on a possible managerial change, Sue asked if Julia had arrived safely and said she'd soon have more info on Snead, and the director of the animal shelter had sent an e-mail of thanks. Nothing from Mitchell. Big surprise there.
    Creepmail must have closed its accounts.
    Julia closed the e-mail program without responding to the messages. She did a search for "Satan," then got the obvious, www.satan.com. Seemed like typing w-w-w-dot- anything brought access to some bizarre site. She linked and read through some sites built by self-styled Satan worshippers.
    Not only were their edicts contradictory and juvenile, they were also poorly worded. Someone who was filled with the power of the Master of the World should at least know how to run their text through a spell check. How could these people not hold their hokey posturing up to a fire-lit mirror and laugh themselves into the grave, and thence to the hell they so eagerly sought? Except they didn’t seem to believe in hell at all, and certainly in no everlasting punishment. They mostly held up their religion as an excuse for self-indulgence and vapid cruelty.
    She finally reached the biggie, the official Church of Satan Web site. After reading through some of the Church of Satan's premises, based on the writings of the late Anton LaVey, Julia believed that Satanists were even crazier than she was. And, at the bottom line, the little rules and rituals were as demanding and tedious as those of the most disciplined and austere religions.
    The Nine Satanic Statements. The Eleven Satanic Rules of Earth. The Nine Satanic Sins. So Satanism had its own sins. Its gate was just as strait and its way just as narrow as those of fundamentalist Christianity. Most amusing was the fact that LaVey, who actually had the audacity to die while positioning himself as Satan's High Priest, was as possessive and money-grubbing as the most odious of corrupt Christian evangelists. Here was his supposed "gift" to the world, his Satanic Bible, but it had the copyright symbol attached to every tiny segment,