1. The Battered Lamp Chapter Tweleve: The Peril of the Succubus


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    he didn't pollute her statement. “And what exactly did they do at their meetings?” “Talked about books. What else would they do?” That's a good question. After identifying Michelle Franklin from her drivers license found in her car at the scene, they had searched her house. They found sex toys, BDSM gear, pictures of six different girls, including the three victims, all engaging in sex acts with the teacher and each other, and various occult paraphernalia in the basement. “Do you know who else was in the group?” Neither Rashawn's or Karrie's parents had known the answer. They had three other girls in those photos to identify. “Um, let me think. I met them all just a few weeks ago when I picked up Lorrie.” She wiped her eyes. “I knew a few of them, they had been over to the house. There was a black girl, her named started with an R. Another Black girl named Karrie. Um, Sable Purcell, I think. Christy. And Karrie's best friend, Phillipa Stoddard.” Donnar wrote their names down. Six girls in total, three dead. “Did your daughter have a boyfriend or girlfriend?” “No. I don't think so. But, you know kids these days.” “No one's ever stalked her or sent her threatening messages?” She shook her head. “And who were her friends? Besides the girls you named.” “She's never had a lot of friends. She had been close Phillipa since grade school, and she seemed close to the other girls in the book club.” “And did all the girls attend Rogers?” “Yeah. I'm pretty sure they did. They all had ...
    Ms. Franklin for a teacher at one point.” Detective Donnar pulled out his card from his jacket pocket. “If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call me. And...there's a number for a grief counselor on the back. Call him, or someone else. Trust me. They're very helpful.” He stood up and headed back into the Medical Examiners office. He was eager to run the new names through the system and see what he could come up with. Phillipa Stoddard reported missing this morning by her parents. Same with Sable Purcell. The name Christy generated a few hits, but another missing person report had been filed for a Christy Leonardson, student at Rogers. He called the parents number listed on the cast. “Hello!” a woman answered, hope burning in her voice. “Christy?” “I'm afraid not.” “Oh.” All the energy fell out of her voice. “I'm Detective Donnar, Pierce County Sheriffs, are you Shantel Leonardson?” “Yes.” Her voice was tight with fear. “I'm calling because your daughter's name may have come up in a case I'm working. Was she part of a book club.” “She was. Arranged by her old biology teacher. The news says Ms. Franklin was murdered along with a few students. Is she...” “As far as I know, she's fine,” I told her. “Is your husband there?” “No. He's out looking for Christy.” “Ms. Franklin and three of the girls in your daughter's book club were found dead early this morning.” “Oh, Lord,” she gasped. “Your daughter and two of the other girls in the club are missing.” “But you didn't find ...
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