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Back The Ursulina Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. I know you'll never forgive me...
  2. Part One - Your Father
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Part Two - Your Mother
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-One
  35. Chapter Thirty-Two
  36. Chapter Thirty-Three
  37. Chapter Thirty-Four
  38. Chapter Thirty-Five
  39. Chapter Thirty-Six
  40. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-One
  45. About the Author

Across the pale stretch of white paint above the bed, a message had been scrawled using Gordon’s blood.

Four words.

I am the Ursulina

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“Looks like the beast is back,” Ajax said, whistling with perverse admiration as he studied the kaleidoscope of blood in the bedroom. “This is some messed-up scene, huh? Man, you really don’t want to piss off the Ursulina.”

Ajax was the nickname for Arthur Jackson, a deputy like me, but four years older. He was tall and extremely good-looking, which he would be the first to tell you. He had full black hair sprayed neatly in place, a long sharp nose and chiseled jaw, and bedroom-brown eyes that always felt like X-rays seeing you without your clothes. He also had an impressive ability to do two things at once. While he was analyzing the murder scene, he was also cupping my ass. When I went to shoo his hand away, he gave one of my butt cheeks a hard squeeze that made me stifle a yelp of pain.

“Knock it off with talk about the Ursulina,” my partner, Darrell, snapped from beside the bed, where he was studying Brink’s body. “We don’t need another three-ring TV circus in town. Last time we had hundreds of monster hunters combing the woods. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Ajax joined Darrell at the bed. I stayed where I was, on the far side of the room, with my arms tightly folded across my chest. I felt queasy, but I didn’t dare show it. Gordon Brink lay exactly as Erica and I had found him. His arms were over his head, his wrists tied together with rope. So were his ankles. He had a friar’s ring of reddish hair around a prominent bald spot, and he had the plump look of a well-fed lawyer. He’d been wearing a suit and tie before he was stripped and killed. We’d found his clothes in a pile on the other side of the bed.

“I don’t know,” Ajax commented with a chuckle. “Those sure look like claw marks to me.”

Darrell had no patience for jokes when we had a dead body in the room. “An animal didn’t do this. A human being did. Focus on the crime scene. This wasn’t done with a knife. We’re looking for a weapon that makes sharp, deep, even cuts.”

I cleared my throat and spoke up. “It could be meat shredders.”

“What?”

“Meat shredders. You know, like for pulled pork? My dad used to have a set like that. They were long and sharp, so you could dig them into the flesh. Half a dozen parallel spikes, just like we’ve got here. The wounds look like somebody dug into the body over and over with a ripping motion.”