Puzzle pieces

[MD1, 9:00PM, Buena Vista Motel]

Zenya stashed her suitcase in the corner of her room and spread her research materials out on the bed. Before getting down to work, she called the front desk for an early wake up call, knowing that with a long night of reading ahead of her, the alarm clocked she'd packed would be little more than a minor irritant in the morning.

Turning to the books, she scanned the indexes for key words, not quite sure what she hoped to find. All of them had some listings for Kali, but all of them said the same things, and none of it was very helpful. Wife of Shiva, mother of Gamesh and Kartikeya, the mother goddess in the destructive aspect, also known as Uma, Parvati, and Durga. All things she remembered from Comparative Religion 101.

Next, she looked up each of the names, which more or less revealed exactly the same information written in a slightly different way. With a sigh, Zenya looked at the stack of books. Several thousand pages worth of reading in hopes of finding the one piece of information that would be, if not the key to the mystery, at least a piece to the puzzle. It was very different being in the field, she thought. A week ago, tucked away in an office in Washington, she would have thought nothing spending days on end researching something like this while the investigating agents hounded her with impatient phone calls at all hours of the day and night. She'd always understood the urgency, but now she was feeling it. Another life might be hanging in the balance, waiting for her to find the answer.

She grabbed one of the books at random, opened it to the first page and started skimming the text. Twenty pages into the book, it was still covering the origins of the Hindu religion, a lot of words to say that no one really knew how it started. Next came the evolution of the deities, slightly more interesting, but no more helpful. Further in, she came to a section on the religious holidays. At the heading 'The Durga Puja' she stopped skimming and read more intently. The detailed description of the festival was less than enlightening, but there was an interesting reference to a myth involving a condemned demon. How it related to what she was looking for, she wasn't certain, but she made a note of it anyway.

Finding nothing else useful in the first book, she moved on to another, changing her approach and selecting one that focused on the history of Hinduism in India. Hidden amidst the battles and dynasties, there was a brief reference to an unnamed cult of Kali that flourished in northern India for a brief period. Although it was short, the passage proved quite informative.

Zenya marked the page with a piece of scrap paper and picked up the printout of Mary Ritchie's journal. She hadn't taken the time yet to read through it, but she had noticed a trend. It started out a typical diary of a young woman searching for meaning in her life. It was cryptic in places, using codes in certain entries, as though she lived in fear of someone discovering her writings and learning her innermost thoughts. But several months before her disappearance, the tone of the entries changed entirely. She stopped using names, referring to her family and friends with descriptive phrases. Her language became almost poetic, and although the events of her life were recorded in the pages, they were disguised with so much analogy and symbolism that it was impossible to tell what she meant. One passage, however, became very clear in light of what Zenya had learned from the books.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts.

"Hold on. I'm coming," she called. Peering through the peephole in the door, she was surprised to see Leo. She opened the door. "Leo, you just got back from the hotel?"

"Yeah, I got some pics of our Mr. Ted and a female companion with him. Since your light was on, I figured you might be able to recognize the woman from someone at the funeral."

"Let me see." Zenya looked at the pictures and knitted her brows with a frown.

"What's wrong?"

"This female companion of our Mr. Ted is none other than Rebecca Cross, Mary Ritchie's best friend!"

Leo looked at Zenya for a long minute, letting that thought sink in. "Puts a new light on things," he said. "If he's targeted her as his next victim."

Zenya nodded. "Come in for a minute," she said, already crossing the room to get Rebecca's phone number out of her purse. She dialed the number, listened as the phone rang several times, and finally hung up. "No answer at her house. Maybe we should go over there and check it out."

*****

Rebecca's house was located in an old and rundown part of the city where no one bothered to replace the bulbs in the streetlamps. Finding the address in the dark was a challenge, but they finally accomplished it. Leo pulled the car up to the curb and they got out.

"There's a car in the driveway," he observed, nodding in the direction of a beat up Volkswagon bug.

"No lights on, though," Zenya said. They headed up the sidewalk toward the front door. The wooden stairs to the porch were brittle and sagging, the railing in no better condition, and the porch itself creaked loudly with every step. A cat leapt out from behind a potted plant, brushing past them in a blur of jet black fur. Zenya bit her lip to stifle a startled exclamation and automatically crossed herself.

Leo watched her with a slightly amused grin. "Superstitious," he asked.

"Old habits die hard. Besides, better safe than sorry."

Still grinning, Leo shook his head and turned to knock on the door.

-----

Sydnie MacElroy

SA1 Kate Calloway, DELTA
SA2 Zenya Gorky, ZULU
Cadence Jones-Abernathy, Glen Forgan

"Linguae quae genera distincta non habent inuriam faciunt feminis!"