Book of the Blind - Part LXXIX

“You better.” Tina pulled a file, opened it, and handed it to Gibson. “Here he is. Lester Andrews. According to records, he’s been in and out of several rescue missions around the city. Perpetually homeless.”

Gibson scanned the file. “Well, the homeless make good cult fodder, especially when you need sacrifices.”

Book of the Blind - Part LXXVIII

“My, my. You’re certainly in a rush.” Tina crossed over to one of the banks of filing cabinets in the morgue, tossing the unused gloves in a trash bin. “Lucky you I pulled an all-nighter tracking down that guy’s prints.”

“I appreciate you, Tina. More than you know,” Gibson said, smiling faintly.

Book of the Blind - Part LXXVII

“Afternoon,” Tina Stantz replied, pulling a sheet over the cadaver she had been inspecting. “You caught me at just the right time. I was about to start the autopsy on this one. Would’ve kept me busy a few hours. What do you need?” Her rubber gloves snapped off, one after another.

“Just looking for any word on the pier vic.”

Book of the Blind - Part LXXVI

* * *

Gibson stepped into the morgue, hands in his coat pockets.

The city medical examiner looked up at him, eyes shielded behind goggles and glasses. She was an older woman, with blond hair and green eyes.

“Afternoon, Tina,” Gibson said.

Book of the Blind - Part LXXV

Morgan smirked at Rhiannon. “You can keep your moldy gods. It’s gonna be all me in there come tonight.”

“Holy shit, tonight? Okay, I gotta go get started on that countercharm.” Rhiannon started down the steps to street level. “Swing by my place around nine, nine thirty. I ought to have it by then!”