After the lawyer left, Chief Woody walked in without a word and shut the door behind him.
He dropped into the chair across from Luke and just stared at him for a long mont, face grim.
Finally he spoke.
"We hooked a big one this ti."
Luke sat up straighter.
If even Woody looked this serious, the cult had so serious weight behind it.
"How heavy are we talking?"
Woody nodded slowly, looking tired and pissed off in a way Luke had never seen.
"Hoffman and I grabbed a few businessn tied to Shark Renovation. I used every dirty trick I know to crack them open."
He paused, voice heavy with rare frustration.
"Didn't work. Those bastards had mouths like stone. Then yesterday every last one of them died—the exact sa way the hotel manager did. Heart exploded. No marks. No witnesses."
All dead?
Luke's eyes widened. These were connected people, locked down in police custody. How the hell did soone reach them?
He forced the words out.
"What happened? Nothing left at all?"
Woody shook his head.
"Everything's gone. Every lead, every thread—wiped clean overnight like they never existed."
Luke swallowed hard. The victory at the record factory suddenly felt aningless.
"So… is it…?"
Woody cut him off.
"No. If the people upstairs wanted them silenced, they'd have done it quiet. This ss? This is sothing else."
Luke rubbed his face. What the hell were they dealing with?
"What do we do now?"
Woody sighed, pulled out a cigar, clipped it, and lit it. He took a long drag before answering.
"Kid, you're a goddamn magnet for the weird. If I put you back on the street I'm scared you'll drag a King Kong back to my station next week."
Luke gave a dry laugh. He couldn't argue.
Woody blew out a thick smoke ring.
"Shark Renovation is just a shell company—contracts and money laundering. The real players behind it? We didn't touch a single one. The trail's dead, but this isn't over. They know your na now, Luke. They're coming for you."
Luke's stomach tightened, but his face stayed calm.
"So I'm a liability."
"Exactly."
Woody crushed the cigar in the ashtray.
"You're a hero right now, but you're also a target. Leaving you out in the open is too dangerous."
He stood up and motioned for Luke to follow.
"Here's the deal. I've got a cousin who runs a scenic area up north. You go lay low, wear the forest ranger badge, and co back when the heat dies down."
Luke actually felt relief. Miami's nonstop sirens and gunshots were starting to wear on him. A quiet stretch in the woods sounded perfect.
"Got it, Chief. Where exactly is this place?"
Woody blinked, scratching his thinning hair.
"Shit… what's it called again?"
He muttered to himself and led Luke into his office, digging through mountains of paperwork until he found a crumpled old flyer.
He smoothed it out on the desk.
A beautiful lake. Bold letters across the top.
Welco to Crystal Lake.
Luke's left eye twitched hard.
Crystal Lake?
Jason Voorhees's backyard from Friday the 13th.
He knew the movies. One of the big four slashers. But Myers was already purified. And Luke wasn't the sa scared rookie anymore.
He wasn't worried about his own safety.
If Jason showed up, it was just paid vacation plus bonus attributes.
The thought actually made him a little excited.
Woody dialed the number on the flyer.
"Yeah, Landon? Miami PD, Woody here."
Pause.
"What? Soone killed him a few years back?"
Another pause.
"Fine. You short-staffed? I've got an officer who needs to disappear for a while. Don't worry—he ain't scared of dying. Alright, he'll call you."
Luke stood there with a face full of black lines. Woody's efficiency was terrifying.
"Chief, how long has it been since you talked to this cousin?"
"Fifteen years, easy. Saves from buying him a gift."
Woody added, "His daughter's a ranger up there too. You should get to know her."
He waved Luke toward the door.
"Go hit finance for your bonus, then pack. Leave in the next couple days. And for God's sake, don't drag any more weird shit back with you."
Luke snapped a salute.
"Understood, Chief."
Outside the station, Luke stood on the busy Miami sidewalk feeling strangely hollow. After days of nonstop tension, the sudden calm felt unreal.
He thought about his current toolkit. Reciting the Bible was useful, but it was the only trick he had against spirits and demons.
Maybe it was ti to visit a big church and see if sothing new would unlock.
He flagged down a taxi.
"Nearest big church, please."
The driver perked up imdiately.
"Brother, good choice. You gotta et Father Kenneth. Guy's like God in a suit. He looks straight into your soul, sees every sin, and washes it all away with holy words."
The driver's face took on a dreamy, almost drunk expression.
The praise worked. Luke's curiosity was officially piqued.
The taxi pulled up to a massive stone church. Luke paid and stepped inside.
A powerful, booming voice rolled through the hall the second he entered.
"I will judge the evil in your hearts in the na of Jesus!"
"I will cast out the demons festering in your souls!"
On the stage stood a man in a flashy white suit with a gold sash draped over his shoulders, arms spread wide like a televangelist on steroids.
"Now your original sin is cleansed! You are once again lambs of the Lord!"
The second he finished, a younger man who looked like his assistant stepped forward, raised both arms dramatically, and struck a pose like he was about to fire a energy blast at the congregation.
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