As if that weren’t enough, there was something else that made me hold my breath a beat longer. That something was the fact that her face held more than just a passing familiarity to me.

“An invocation rite,” I stated flatly, fighting back insistent waves of nausea.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“A ritual used to call forth someone or something from another plane of existence.”

“You mean like a spirit or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” I answered, “it’s the ‘or something’ that bothers me.”

“How can ya tell that’s what it is?” Ben pressed. “All the symbols were with that Expiation thing.”

“The flaying,” I answered. “Skinning and mutilation are considered parts of a ritual sacrifice for invocation in some old religions. Have you gotten a report from the coroner?”

“No, not yet…Why?”

“Whoever did this…” I caught my breath and started again. “Whoever did this probably skinned her alive. The sonofabitch performed two rituals. One to invoke who knows what, and one to forgive himself for doing it.”

“Jeezus,” Ben whispered.

“I need to see this crime scene, Ben,” I told him, still staring at the two-dimensional horror.

“I don’t know, Rowan…” he began to protest.

“No, Ben,” I shot back, “I’m serious. I don’t know for sure what this guy is up to yet, but you’ve already told me that your expert can’t find his way around the block. If this bastard is really trying to do what I think he is, then I doubt if he’s going to stop here. If I’m physically on the scene, maybe I can find something that will help.” Without realizing it, I had stood up from my seat and had begun pacing. “Besides,” I stopped, looked down at the picture for a moment and then back to Ben’s face, “I know the victim.”