The Hexed

“Of course. My coven and I went often to pray,” she told them.

  “I know it’s real police work, but I’d like to go there,” Devin said to Rocky.

  “Tomorrow,” he promised her, then glanced at his watch. “We should get going. We’re late.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not the end of the world. However, I did set this up, and it involves two groups of people who don’t know each other, so...”

  “Let’s go,” Devin said.

  Rocky said goodbye to Aunt Mina, who Devin thought was looking a little wistful.

  “We’ll have a little dinner party here in a day or two, Auntie Mina,” Devin said. “Rocky can bring his coworkers.”

  Aunt Mina seemed to perk up. “That would be lovely.”

  Rocky looked thoughtful as they got into the car.

  “What is it?” she asked him.

  He smiled. “I was thinking that wouldn’t be a half-bad idea.”

  “What?”

  “Having a get-together at your house. Mina would be delighted and...”

  “And?”

  “And our Puritan might make an appearance when we’re all here and it’s safe to go into the woods.”

  As they drove, she realized that they were heading to a residential section near the historic area favored by tourists.

  She looked curiously at Rocky.

  “Jack’s always loved the old Victorians,” he told her.

  Jack’s house was beautiful. They were greeted at the door by his wife, Haley, a lovely woman with brilliant hazel eyes, blond hair and a welcoming smile. She greeted Rocky with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek—she clearly knew him well—but was almost as enthusiastic to meet Devin. She said she had all the Auntie Pim books—she read them to her son—and had been thrilled to hear that Devin had moved back to town.

  “Appetizers and drinks are all set up in the dining room already,” she told them. “Go on in. But, please, if anyone starts singing our high school anthem, I’ll beat them with a wooden spoon, I swear.”

  Rocky promised her that he would never do any such thing before they headed back to join the others in the large dining room. The beautiful cherry table, large enough to seat twelve, was covered with the promised array of food and drink. As they entered, Devin recognized Angela and Jane, and Rocky introduced her to Jenna and Sam Hall, the other members of his team, and his friends from “the old days,” Vince Steward and Renee Radcliff. Vince was a mammoth man—taller than both Rocky and Jack. Renee was a tiny, well-built brunette with manicured nails and a bubbly personality. She, too, said she enjoyed the Auntie Pim books. She didn’t have children yet, but she loved babysitting for Jackie and read them to him before bed.

  Conversation was casual. Sam and Jack talked about a mutual friend, Detective John Alden, who had held Jack’s position a few years ago but had recently left the area to take a position in Colorado. John Alden had been involved in a case of a teen accused of butchering his parents; Jenna and Angela had also worked the case, and the four of them ended up discussing it, along with changes since the Krewe had last worked in the city.

  It seemed an incredibly easy meshing of people, the makings of a charming evening.

  It might have been any dinner party, except that there had been murders much like the one that had changed the lives of the hosts and many of the guests—and a number of them were suspects.

  The two groups mingled nicely. Rocky belonged to both, and though she didn’t belong to either, everyone included her in their conversations.

  At one point, Jackie woke up crying; Jack went off to his bedroom and came back with him, and they all oohed and aahed over the little boy.

  “Any of you have kids yet?” Jack asked the agents.

  “Not us,” Sam said. “Jenna and I haven’t even made it official yet.”

  “Angela actually married the boss,” Jenna teased. “So maybe the rest of us will follow their lead.”

  “Wait, I’m confused,” Jack said. “You don’t make it official and you don’t act like you’re together, but—”

  “We’re coworkers when we’re working and we don’t run around blasting out the information when we’re a twosome,” Jenna clarified. “But we’re not discouraged from being together. We work well together. We just don’t bring it into work.”

  “Ah, well, you are special people, huh?” Jack teased.

  “For the good or the bad,” Angela said lightly.

  “What about you, Angela? Do you have children?” Renee asked her.

  “Not yet. We work a lot,” Angela said.

  “Well, sometimes you just have to do things, you know?” Haley said.

  “Haley!” Vince said. “All you wanted in life for as long as I can remember was marriage and that baby.”

  “She used to date Rocky,” Renee put in. “But she finally decided he was a lost cause and gave up.”

  Devin turned to look at Jack. He shrugged good-humoredly. “They were the Barbie and Ken of our high school. But they were going different ways, and they knew it.” He grinned at Rocky. “My gain.”

  “Absolutely,” Rocky said, lifting his glass to Jack. “You two are perfect. And Jackie is a great kid.”

  Devin considered them curiously, but there didn’t seem to be any ill will between them.

  It wasn’t until Jackie was back in bed and they’d all helped Haley bring out dinner—clam chowder and broiled scrod—that they sat down around the table and the conversation turned serious.

  “I guess it’s pretty obvious,” Vince said, looking at Rocky. “You’re not back to stay—or to vacation. You’re back because of the murders.”

  “Yes,” Rocky said simply.

  Renee looked at the Krewe, then turned to Jack. “So they’ve taken over. What are the cops doing, then?”

  “We haven’t taken over,” Rocky said. “It’s a joint investigation. What we want is the murderer caught.”

  “This case is still wide-open,” Angela said. “We have so few real clues that there’s no limit to what we must investigate. We need a lot of manpower.”

  “Of course,” Vince said. He drummed his fingers on the table. “God, I hope you get him.”

  “We intend to,” Rocky said.

  “Could it be the same person who killed Melissa?” Renee asked.

  Vince leaned forward, staring at Rocky. “Could it be? That was so long ago.”

  “It’s certainly possible,” Rocky said.

  “But how can you know that?” Renee demanded.

  Vince was still staring hard at Rocky. “Because these murders were the same,” Vince said quietly. “God help us all. You found them the same way as Melissa.”

  “Vince,” Renee murmured uncomfortably, “you can’t know that.”

  But Vince shook his head. “No, I was there. And what I saw has been imprinted in my mind all these years. You found them lying the same way...outstretched, like a pentagram. The blood on the throat...”

  Renee shivered. “Stop it, Vince, please.”

  “I can’t. Because they’re thinking it was someone who was here at the time—and here now.”

  9

  “Like one of us,” Vince continued.

  Silence fell for a brief second.

  “Me?” Renee squeaked. “You think that it could have been me?”

  “No,” Rocky said.

  “He’s lying,” Vince said, and laughed bitterly. “I’m an attorney. I can tell when a man is lying. Trust me—I’ve listened to liars for years.”

  “I’m not lying,” Rocky said, looking at Renee. “It would have been almost impossible for you to have killed any of the women. You’re too short.” He looked back at Vince. “Could it have been one of the rest of us? Yes.”

  “So I could be a suspect?” Vince asked.

  “Frankly, yes,” Rocky said. “Have you taken up the Wiccan religion recently, Vince?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Wiccan—did you become a Wiccan?” Rocky asked.


  “No!”

  “Then why on earth did you buy an athame?”

  Vince stared at Rocky in openmouthed surprise. If the situation weren’t so critical, Rocky would have been amused. Vince had come a long way—law school was no easy track—but right then he looked like the kid in class who had just been told there was going to be a pop quiz on the material he hadn’t studied the night before.

  “What?” Vince asked.

  “Athame. It’s a double-edged blade used in the Wiccan religion. It’s normally ceremonial, but it’s the closest match we’ve found for the weapon used to murder our victims.”

  Vince reddened. “I know what an athame is,” he muttered. “You think you’re the only one who knows anything?”

  “You said, ‘What?’” Rocky reminded him. “I thought you were asking what an athame was.”

  “Why are you attacking Vince?” Renee asked. She was sitting next to him, which made her look even tinier—and Vince look almost like an ogre.

  “Guys, this is a dinner party, not an interrogation,” Haley said.

  Rocky didn’t flinch. “I’m not attacking anyone,” he assured her. He looked at Vince evenly. “I’m just asking questions.”

  “How the hell do you know so much?” Vince demanded. “Oh, that’s right. You’re a fed. Big Brother is watching.”

  “There’s no conspiracy here,” Angela assured him.

  “Did you get a warrant to violate my privacy?” Vince asked.

  “I didn’t need one. If you use a credit card, the record of your purchases is on the internet and readily available to anyone, not just law enforcement. But you’re stalling, Vince.” He smiled to take the sting out of the words. “And you’re good at it. I’m glad you got your law degree. I can only imagine how effective your arguments are in court. Back in school you already had the ability to convince half our teachers it was their fault you hadn’t done your homework.”

  Vince’s jaw tightened as he looked down and shook his head. He looked back up at Rocky. “We all have our strengths. It was easy for you to get it done, and easy for me to talk my way out of it.”

  “Vince,” Rocky said, “I’m not attacking you, but I need to know. Why did you buy it?”

  Vince looked around at the agents. “I don’t know which of you is the computer pro, but you can check this out. I was defending Midnight Mercantile. They had a shipment go overboard just outside Boston Harbor. They lost a lot of merchandise, including a large order of athames, which was recovered and the contents unsalable. I bought one made to the same specifications to demonstrate in court that if the contents had been made to the manufacturer’s promised standards, the time they spent in the water wouldn’t have ruined them to such a degree. We subjected my athame to salt water for an equal amount of time, and I proved my point. You want the athame? I’ll get it to you.”

  “I see,” Rocky said.

  “That’s it—you see?” Vince asked.

  “I told you. I was never attacking you, I was asking you.”

  Vince laughed. “Rocky, come on. I’m a lawyer, remember? Asking questions...that’s an attack.”

  “No, it’s a request for information,” Rocky told him.

  Haley stood and walked around the table, setting her hands on Vince’s shoulders. “Come on, Vince. Give Rocky a break. We all remember when Melissa...” She trailed off and looked at Rocky. “I feel like all of us had a hand in her death. That’s why we’ve all been so haunted ever since by what happened.”

  Renee let out a little choking sound. “No, Haley—we can’t blame ourselves.”

  “We can,” Haley said. She looked over at Rocky again. “She was crazy about you, and I encouraged it. I admit some of it was slightly sour grapes. You and I had called it quits. I knew she’d had a crush on you since we were kids, so I encouraged her to go after you—knowing darned well you were just counting the days till you could move on. I don’t think I was trying to be mean—I was just a kid and jealous despite the fact that we were over. That night...Renee and I were in a rush to get to a sale at a vintage shop in Danvers. Melissa called, and I told her if she didn’t make it to my place in thirty minutes, we were leaving without her because the shop would close if we didn’t get going. She said okay, she understood, and if she didn’t make it in time, just to go on without her. She didn’t show up, so we left. And you guys...” she said, turning to look from Jack to Vince to Rocky. “She said she’d called you for a ride, Jack, and you said you had plans, you were busy. And what were you busy doing? Drinking beer in the back of Vince’s pickup.”

  “We are guilty,” Vince said softly. “We’re guilty because we were lousy friends. I’d had a few beers before I even went over to Rocky’s place. She called me, too, but I was afraid to drive her—I didn’t want to get stopped by the cops. Rocky’s place was just down the street, but you lived farther away. If only I’d done it,” he murmured.

  There was silence in the room. Devin and the Krewe could only listen, Rocky thought, but as far as he and his old friends went, yes, they were all guilty in their own ways.

  Speaking for himself, Rocky thought, he should have sat Melissa down. He should have told her that he’d always love her as a friend, but they were never going to be a couple.

  He was surprised to hear Devin gently clear her throat. “Forgive me, I wasn’t there, but listening to you...what you’re all feeling is survivor’s guilt. Melissa’s death was a tragedy, but whoever killed her is guilty—and not any of you. I don’t have a degree in psychology, but I interviewed a lot of people who’d lived through tragedy or lost someone to it when I was a reporter. And I’ve seen this so many times, even in cases of natural death. A relative or a friend dies and you realize they’d asked you for help with something or just to go to lunch, and you brushed them off. It’s one of the best things about us—the way we feel remorse for hurting someone’s feelings.”

  Jane spoke up. “Why don’t you all run through the events of that night—no attacks on anyone. Maybe one of you will remember something that can help us.”

  “We called him the Pentagram Killer,” Haley murmured, then patted Vince’s shoulder and returned to her chair.

  “I thought the information about the pentagram necklaces never went out,” Sam said, frowning as he leaned forward.

  “It was never released to the press,” Jack said, “but you have to remember we were just a bunch of high school kids, and we told one another pretty much everything. We grew up playing in mud puddles together.” He paused, looking sheepish. “We played witchcraft trials.”

  “And they made me play Magistrate Corwin,” Vince said. “Because I was big and so was he.”

  “In middle school, Haley and Rocky became a couple,” Renee said.

  “There was a dance I wanted to go to,” Haley said. “I needed an escort, so I asked him. After that, we just kind of paired up.”

  “The rest of us were always just friends,” Jack said. “The kind of friends you told everything to—shared everything with.”

  “Were any of you into Wicca?” Angela asked.

  “No, we’re all from what they refer to as good old New England ancestry, with parents who were die-hard Episcopalians,” Vince said. “If I’d said I thought being Wiccan was cool, I’d have been grounded for a week.”

  “Wait!” Haley exclaimed, leaning forward so suddenly she almost knocked over her wineglass and just managed to save it. “The week before, we all went down to the wharf at Salem, remember?” she asked excitedly. “There were so many wonderful stores. I bought a wand—and Melissa bought a bag of herbs for a love spell.”

  Rocky frowned, remembering.

  He’d thought nothing of it at the time, and to be honest, he still wasn’t sure it meant anything. They all went down to the shops in Salem sometimes. It was just what you did if you grew up around there.

  Did it mean anything?

  “Oh, great, we all went down to Essex Street,” Vince said, his tone sarcastic. “We looked at Wiccan ne
cklaces and bought spell bags. One of us must be guilty.”

  Devin spoke up then. “Vince, I don’t think it’s that at all. Maybe someone saw Melissa buy that spell bag. Maybe they thought she was Wiccan, or making fun of Wiccans—there are a thousand possibilities.”

  “And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Haley asked.

  “Yeah, but did the cops or anyone think it could have been any of us back then? We were kids, terrified kids,” Renee said.

  “But we found her,” Vince said. He looked over at Rocky. “Or Rocky did. He knew right where to go. How the hell was that?”

  Rocky shook his head and felt a self-mocking smile curve his lips. “I heard her,” he told them.

  That was greeted by silence.

  “You know, you could be on top of the suspect list,” Jack said.

  “Oh, please,” Haley said, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “It wasn’t any of us. I know it wasn’t any of us.”

  “And Rocky was in California when Carly Henderson was murdered,” Jack said. He looked at Rocky a little sheepishly. “I checked that out.”

  “You wouldn’t be a good cop if you hadn’t,” Rocky told him.

  “What did Melissa’s family say at the time?” Devin asked thoughtfully. “What did they think she was doing?”

  “She told her mother she had a ride, and she walked out of the house to meet him. Or her,” Haley said. “Her mother never got over it. She died about ten years ago. Heart failure. I’d say it was a broken heart.”

  “Does she have any siblings, especially any still living in the area?” Angela asked.

  “She had three older brothers, and Joshua is still here. The cops talked to him at the time, of course, but you can interview him again,” Jack said. “I talked to him myself after the latest murders, but you might come up with something I didn’t.”

  “You’ve got to solve this, Rocky. None of us will ever really be right if Melissa’s killer gets away with it,” Vince said. “If we can do anything to help—anything—just ask.”

  “Consider it a pact between old friends and new,” Haley said.

  Jack smiled. “We don’t have to poke holes in our fingers and swear in blood or anything, do we?” he asked his wife.