The Hexed

  Calmed down at last—everything had turned out all right, Devin was fine—Aunt Mina had agreed that an episode of Perry Mason just might help.

  Despite that, she was obviously paying attention to the two of them, since she piped in with an opinion now and then.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so focused on the killer being someone we know,” Devin said.

  Rocky hesitated. “Obviously I don’t want it to be a friend, but there’s already a personal component to this, and I’m not just saying that because you were attacked, and you and I... I was there. I was the one who found Melissa’s body. You found the third victim and the fourth. Whatever’s going on seems to involve us.”

  “That’s reaching, isn’t it?”

  “But reaching based on logic.”

  “My friends were just kids, thirteen...fourteen.”

  He looked at her. “You were the one who researched kids who kill,” he reminded her. He took her hands. His touch was electric. Memory suddenly became physical, and she flushed.

  “Somehow all this goes back to Margaret Nottingham,” Aunt Mina said, interrupting the moment. “I know because she tried to reach Devin. That’s why she came here, and the only explanation I can see for her coming now is because these murders are connected to her somehow.”

  Rocky looked at Devin. “She could be right,” he said.

  “Have you heard anything from the anthropologists?” Devin asked Rocky, backing away slightly.

  “Not yet.”

  “But she was murdered.”

  “That’s our assumption, yes.”

  “Maybe by someone who loved her and didn’t want her thrown in a horrible, rat-infested cell, stripped and humiliated, then hanged,” Aunt Mina said.

  “Maybe, or maybe by someone who was afraid that she’d be putting them in danger if she were accused,” Rocky said. “The answer is there, we just have to put the pieces together.”

  Her day had been overfilled with a dizzying roller coaster of emotions. First, there had been absolute fear of what had happened at her house. And then there had been...acting on instinct. Acting on what she wanted. Then astonishment that she had actually gone to him and asked for sex; sex that had seemed like the nova-burst of a new world.

  Then she’d discovered that someone—almost certainly the same person who’d set the fire at her house―had been in her room. Someone was stalking her, and once again she’d been almost paralyzed with fear.

  And then fear had become anger. Whatever it took, she was going to find the truth; she was not going to live this way. She wouldn’t accept it.

  “Maybe she decided she was going to fight what was going on. Maybe someone wanted to silence her,” Devin said.

  “Jealousy, hatred, fear...any one of them can fester in the mind,” Aunt Mina said, “and drive seemingly sane people to all manner of evil acts.”

  Rocky walked over to the sofa and smiled at Auntie Mina. “I’d love to have known you,” he told her.

  She grinned at that, pleased. “Then just be thankful that you are special, young man, and you can get to know me now.”

  Rocky smiled again, then grew serious. “If our murders are based in contemporary hatreds, what would the specter of Margaret Nottingham have to do with them?”

  “You’re the agent,” she reminded him.

  He nodded. “I’m not sure that I have more knowledge on this score than you do, though, Mina. You were Wiccan, and there’s definitely a connection of some sort between Wicca and the murders, and that makes you more of an expert than I am, at least on that aspect.”

  Aunt Mina looked at him, nodding slowly. “I’ll think about it and see what I can come up with.” Then she turned to Devin. “You have my blessing to see him, you know.”

  “Auntie Mina,” Devin murmured. She could feel herself blushing.

  “Good heavens, child,” Aunt Mina said, rising and walking toward Devin. “I was old when I passed, not blind.” She turned and winked at Rocky, then looked back at Devin. “He’s a keeper. Don’t go playing too hard to get,” she warned.

  Devin shot a glance at Rocky, who had lowered his head, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

  Hard to get? Not her. She’d brazenly knocked on his door and basically asked if he wanted sex.

  “Oh, no, not again. I hate this,” Auntie Mina said, her voice fading along with her image. “I can’t believe I’m going to miss the party.”

  And then she was gone.

  There was a knock at the door; Sam, Jenna, Jane and Angela had returned bearing grocery bags filled to the brim. “Everything is easy to set up,” Angela said.

  “We brought grapes and apples, too,” Jane said. “For you, Poe!” she called.

  The bird cawed happily.

  Devin led them to the kitchen to start setting up. “I’m still not sure how this is going to help,” she admitted to Angela.

  “Rocky’s throwing everything in a pot to see what bubbles to the surface,” Angela said. “If he’s right, and this killer is somehow related to one or both of you, we just might learn something new tonight.”

  As she spoke, there was a knock at the door.

  “Got it,” Rocky said.

  Devin noticed that as he went to see who it was, the other agents instantly went on alert. Sam shifted slightly, and she realized he was wearing a shoulder holster beneath his jacket. Angela straightened from setting a tray of cheese in place, and Devin saw the bulge of a gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans and hidden under the back of her shirt.

  Everyone relaxed when it turned out to be Jack and Haley.

  “We’re out like big people tonight,” Haley said. “My mom has Jackie. And I would be delighted to have a glass of the lovely Cabernet I see sitting there.”

  “Of course,” Devin said, stepping up to join them. “Welcome, and by all means come and have a glass of wine.”

  “Just what are we doing here tonight, Devin?” Haley asked. “Trying to figure out if one of your friends is the homicidal maniac this time?”

  “Haley!” Jack said in horror.

  “Sorry. That was rude,” Haley said, accepting the wine Devin had poured for her. “I guess I’m more upset than I realized about the other night.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “So, can I help in any way?”

  “I think we’re all set,” Devin said, glancing toward the kitchen. “We took the easy route, I’m afraid. Premade pasta and salad.”

  “Have a seat. Enjoy your wine,” Jane said, joining them.

  As Haley took a seat on the couch, there was another knock at the door. Vince Steward had arrived, greeting everyone jovially. He didn’t want wine; he wanted Scotch. Devin poured him one and he thanked her, then said to Rocky and Jack, “I heard you had one on the hook but lost him.”

  “You’re referring to Brent Corbin?” Rocky asked.

  “We didn’t lose him, but we don’t make a habit of holding people without evidence,” Jack said, bristling slightly.

  “And he’s a friend,” Devin said quietly.

  “Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard,” Vince said, perching by Haley. “Ivy Donatello, down the hall from me, has taken him on as a client.”

  “I thought you were in maritime law?” Rocky asked.

  “I am. But it’s a big firm and my colleagues have specialties of their own. Anyway, I think Ivy was a little surprised you let him go so easily. I heard he had a dead woman’s phone in his pocket, and yet you cut him loose.” Vince looked at Sam. “Still, nothing but circumstantial evidence when you get right down to it, so no jury could convict him. Don’t you agree, Sam?”

  “I can’t imagine a jury that wouldn’t find reasonable doubt.”

  “I’m assuming you obtained search warrants for his home and office?” Vince asked.

  “We did,” Rocky said. “And you know we can’t discuss an ongoing case with you, Vince—especially when he’s retained your colleague to represent him.”

  “I’m actually hoping Brent will be j
oining us tonight,” Devin said, even though she knew her hope was unlikely to be rewarded.

  Vince looked genuinely startled. “Really? You invited a possible murderer to have dinner with us?”

  “Oh, I believe in his innocence completely,” Devin said. “He’s been one of my best friends since we were kids.”

  “Oh,” Vince said. “Well, then, I look forward to meeting him.”

  On cue, they heard a knock at the front door again. It wasn’t Brent, however, but Beth, Theo and Gayle, who had come together, probably direct from the shop.

  Beth seemed surprised to meet Rocky’s group and quickly dragged Devin off to the kitchen. “Are you all right? You sounded okay on the phone earlier, but what happened was just terrifying. And you’re not even Wiccan. What do you think that they’re trying to say? And Brent! They arrested Brent. Devin, did—”

  She stopped speaking as Rocky walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of chips.

  “We should eat soon—everyone is probably hungry,” he said, smiling at Beth. “We’ll give Renee and Brent another minute or two to get here, and then we’ll sit down.”

  As soon as Rocky left, Beth looked at Devin. “Aren’t you terrified?”

  “No,” Devin said, almost surprised to realize it was the truth.

  “No? I would be.”

  “I hang with the FBI,” Devin reminded her.

  “You’d better hang with them all the time. Whoever this guy is—”

  “He’ll get sloppy,” Rocky said, coming back into the kitchen. “Plates, Devin?” he asked.

  “Over there,” she said, pointing.

  There was another knock at the door. Jack went to answer it, greeting Renee and introducing her to Devin’s friends as Devin and Beth went back to join the group.

  Devin watched Rocky but she couldn’t fathom what was in his mind. He walked toward the door, and she followed him. Behind them, things seemed to be going well. Beth was talking with Haley. Theo, Gayle, Renee and Vince were debating animatedly about tarot cards—real or pure bull?—but they all seemed to be getting along well enough.

  Suddenly there was another knock at the door.

  Rocky looked at her with a grim smile and nodded. She walked to the door and opened it.

  Brent Corbin had come, after all.

  From the safety of his cage, Poe let out a long, mournful caw.

  15

  “I told you, I didn’t do it,” Brent said, accepting a beer from Devin. He turned and looked at Jack and Rocky. “And I should be pissed at the two of you bastards, but this beer tastes so damned good, I’m just going to bask in the fact that I’m here, I’m out and you two are assholes.”

  Beth slipped an arm around his shoulders. “They didn’t really have a choice. They had to do what they did.”

  “Hold me in some scummy little room like a criminal? Tear up my store and my house? Yeah, no choice.” Brent lifted his beer to Rocky and Jack. “Nice friends you have, Devin.” Then he sighed heavily. “Just kidding. I understand. I guess. Wow, that sounds bitter. I really do understand. Of course, you cost me a couple of days’ income and my neighbors are all looking at me like they think I’m about to attack them. But I’m cool, honest.”

  Beth laughed. “Oh, poor Brent! You sound like you’re not sure yourself if you’re really all right or not.”

  “I’m not,” Brent admitted. He took a deep breath and then a long swallow of beer. “It was awful.” He looked pleadingly at Rocky and Jack. “You guys have to find out the truth. I can’t keep going like this, with everyone looking at me like...like...” He shook his head and gave up trying to explain.

  “Why were they questioning you in the first place?” Beth asked.

  He explained about the cell phone—“I swear, someone must have put it there!”—then said, “Look, I’m out, and even if I’m here with the inquisitors from hell, I’m ready to have a good time.”

  Devin smiled and gestured for him to go get some food, but as she did she noticed that Rocky had his cell phone out, and she wondered why.

  He saw her looking at him and smiled.

  She suddenly realized he’d been nursing the same beer all night. He was acting like a normal party guest, but “acting” was the operative word. In reality he was watching. Watching closely.

  “The thing is, Brent,” Rocky said as they all moved toward the food, “if the phone was slipped into your pock—”

  “There’s no if!” Brent protested. “It was slipped into my pocket.”

  “Then whoever did it had to be at the bar, too,” Rocky said.

  “I... Let’s see...”

  “You were in the bar,” Rocky said, turning to Beth. “Did you see anything?”

  “What?” Beth asked, startled. “What bar?”

  “The bar the other night, remember?” Gayle said. She smiled and shook her head. “We were there—you, me and Theo.” She looked at Rocky. “I didn’t see Brent there, but the place was such a zoo, that’s not surprising.”

  “Oh! You mean the night we were doing inventory,” Beth said.

  “Night before last,” Theo said. “We didn’t stay. It was too crowded.”

  “That’s what we hear,” Jack said.

  “Well, I, for one, wasn’t there,” Haley said. “This is my big night out.”

  “I wasn’t there, either,” Renee said.

  “Because you were with me,” Haley said.

  Renee smiled. “Haley and Jack are letting me stay with them, because I was worried about living on my own.”

  “That’s safe and smart,” Beth said.

  “Definitely—with everything going on, women should stay together,” Gayle said, nodding.

  “You can come stay with me if you want,” Beth told Gayle.

  “I have the big house—you could come stay with me,” Gayle said.

  “Maybe I will,” Beth agreed.

  “Hey, this is a party, right?” Vince said. “Maybe we could talk about something a little more cheerful?”

  “Absolutely!” Jack said. “You asked for it. Here come the pictures of Jackie.”

  As he and Haley whipped out their cell phones, Devin found herself looking around the room. She’d known Beth and Brent most of her life, and Gayle for a long time, too, but differently, since she was older than they were. Theo was a newbie, but he’d worked for Beth for quite a while now.

  His friends, she thought. It had to be one of his friends. They’d all been there when Melissa Wilson was killed, plus they’d known her, and that connection had to mean something.

  As people took their food and moved to sit comfortably around the parlor, Vince and Sam Hall wound up in conversation, their shared profession providing an easy link. After his initial bout of anger, Brent seemed to be happy to relax and have a good time. At one point she noticed Rocky deep in conversation with Gayle.

  She took a seat on the sofa near them and started eavesdropping. They were talking about the area.

  “I love how this state is always changing,” Gayle said. “Immigrants are always arriving, and most people welcome them. Of course, people do like to tease that Bostonians can be a bit snobby, but you can’t really blame them, since a lot of them can trace their roots back to the earliest days of the colony.”

  “Me for one,” Rocky said. “On my mother’s side.”

  “Me, too,” Beth said, walking over in time to catch the end of the conversation. “Gayle and Brent, too. Theo, you came from the Midwest, right?”

  Theo laughed. “Most recently, yup.”

  Sitting in the wingback chair across from the sofa, Haley sighed softly. “I guess Jackie is destined to be a snob, because he got a double dose. Both Jack and I can trace our families back to when this area was first settled.”

  “Vince’s family goes way back,” Jack noted, lifting his glass in a mock toast.

  “Dear God, we’re more inbred than a pack of poodles!” Renee laughed. “And don’t forget Devin.” She turned to Devin and asked, “Didn’t one of y
our eighteen-million-greats come here with Roger Conant, the founder of Salem?”

  “Yes, he did,” Devin said. “Both my parents are from Salem.”

  “We’re all probably related to one another somewhere back in the dim mists of time,” Beth said cheerfully.

  “It would be fun to find out if any of us really are related,” Vince said. “Except for poor Theo—you’re practically a tourist,” he teased.

  “Hey, that’s the way it goes,” Theo said, laughing. “At least I’m not inbred.”

  The gathering had grown easy, relaxed—comfortable, Devin thought.

  Except that Rocky seemed to think one of the guests was a murderer.

  Eventually it was time for everyone to leave. Haley urged Beth and Gayle to stay together, and they agreed that Beth would stay at Gayle’s place, at least for that night. Jack said that the chief and the mayor had decided to put out a news alert warning women not to go anywhere alone at night and to stay away from any wooded areas.

  Then everyone was gone but Devin and the Krewe.

  For a moment they were all silent.

  “Well?” Rocky asked quietly.

  “Theo was interesting,” Angela said. “How well do you know him, Devin? There’s something about him—he just makes me feel a little uneasy.”

  “He’s worked for Beth for a while. Where he really came from, I don’t know,” Devin said. “I have no idea where he was living when Melissa was killed.”

  “Tomorrow,” Rocky said, “we continue the archives. There’s more information out there somewhere. We figure out what this all has to do with our Puritan woman—but we make a new effort, as well. We’ll research Theo’s movements over the last thirteen years.” He turned to Angela. “We have fingerprints?”

  She nodded. “I have a glass from everyone here—labeled by name and in a paper bag under the sink.”

  Devin stared at her—she’d been picking up all night, and she’d never seen Angela even take the glasses, much less label and hide them.

  “You’re good,” she murmured admiringly.

  “You learn,” Angela said dryly. “At least now we can find out if one of our guests went to your house and set fire to your lawn.”