The Hexed

  “And I know I didn’t do it, so...”

  “God, Rocky, do we really suspect Vince?” Jack asked.

  Before he had a chance to respond, Rocky’s phone rang. It was Devin. He answered it quickly.

  She was fine, she said. The three of them were still together, digging through the archives. She told him about the discoveries they had made, and he asked her if he could put their call on speaker so Jack could listen, too.

  When they hung up a few minutes later, Jack looked at Rocky. “So, that’s interesting. Vince and Brent Corbin. And yet it really does look like someone was trying to set Corbin up. We searched his home, his business, his vehicle—no evidence anywhere, and not a drop of blood on his athame, so that clearly wasn’t the murder weapon. Can it really be Vince?” He looked sick. “If this three-hundred-year-old connection means anything, why would Vince set up someone he’s related to? Although I doubt he even knows he’s related to Corbin.”

  “I’ll talk to him and see what I can find out,” Rocky said. “According to a bartender who has no reason to lie, Vince was there that night—and it was busy enough that he could have taken Barbara’s cell phone off her table and dropped it into Brent’s pocket without anyone noticing.”

  Jack shook his head. “When we were kids, I wouldn’t have thought Vince was smart enough for anything like this, but then he went through law school, so maybe we were all taken in.... No. Can’t believe it.”

  Rocky stood. “I’m going to talk to him.”

  * * *

  When they left the archives, Jane, Angela and Devin headed to her cottage. While neither agent drew a gun when they got out of the car, Devin noticed that they were alert and ready.

  She sincerely doubted that anyone was just waiting around her house to attack her when she showed up, but there was still something reassuring about having two FBI agents keeping her company.

  They’d been talking in the car, and she’d been interested to discover that neither woman had intended to be a “ghost hunter” or even enter law enforcement.

  As they headed in so she could feed Poe, they talked about some of the other Krewe members, assuring Devin that she’d like them all.

  “They’re just regular people,” Jane said

  “Who can see ghosts the same way you do,” Angela added.

  Auntie Mina was at the house, and she was happy to see them. While the other two women talked to her and got to know Poe, Devin straightened up the cottage, although it was in pretty good shape considering she’d hosted a party less than twenty-four hours earlier.

  Devin had just put on a pot of tea when her cell phone rang. She expected it to be Rocky, but it turned out to be Sam, who had just left the lab with Jenna.

  “We have a match on the fingerprints,” he said. “We know who was trying to get into your house.”

  Her heart seemed to skip a beat. “Who was it?” she asked.

  * * *

  Rocky arranged to meet Vince for a late lunch at the hotel. Vince clearly had no idea that he was under suspicion. As they walked into the restaurant, he told Rocky how much he liked his fellow agents after getting to know them better last night. Then he lifted a hand for the waitress and ordered a Scotch.

  Rocky opted for coffee. When Vince raised his eyebrows in surprise, Rocky said, “I’m kind of permanently on duty at the moment.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Jack, too. Hey, he doesn’t resent you for being here, does he?”

  Rocky shook his head. “We all want to catch this murderer—no one cares who the hell gets him as long as someone does.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Vince said, then joked with the waitress when she brought their drinks.

  Rocky remembered that Vince was here at least once a month, probably more than that, for meetings.

  “It’s kind of hard to be second best all the time,” Vince went on once the waitress was gone. “Or, in my case, third best, but back in the day, we all had to get used to that whenever you were around.”

  “I don’t think Jack ever thought of himself as second best—or that anyone else thought of us that way, either,” Rocky said. “We were different, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Jack is a happy man these days, that’s for sure. He got his shield, and he got the girl. And he’s got a great kid.”

  “True enough,” Rocky said, but he wondered. Was Vince just speaking casually, or was he making an effort to get under Rocky’s skin—even stir up trouble between him and Jack?

  Could Vince really be guilty? He’d proven he was no slouch intellectually, getting his law degree and going on to practice successfully.

  “What made you opt for maritime law?” Rocky asked.

  Vince grinned. “I tried personal injury for a while. I was good, too. But I didn’t really like it. I felt a little slimy. I mean, they call you an ambulance chaser and they’re kind of right. Wasn’t for me. I like the sea, and I always loved boats and the few beach days we get. You know the old joke. Massachusetts—come for summer. July 15.”

  “Beach days are rare here, I’ll grant you that,” Rocky said.

  Vince turned suddenly serious and shook his head. “Rocky, we’re not here to shoot the breeze, are we? What’s up?”

  Rocky met his eyes and spoke honestly. “You’re looking suspicious as hell. You know this hotel—and the security system was knocked out here the same night someone set a fire on Devin’s lawn and she ended up spending the night here. You were at the bar the night Brent Corbin was there and the dead woman’s cell phone wound up in his pocket—something you somehow neglected to mention.”

  “Ah,” Vince said.

  “Got an explanation?” Rocky asked him.

  “Yes, I was there. I had a date that night. I didn’t mention this before because it has nothing to do with it— I was at dinner with a woman. She’s married. After she headed home, I went to the bar for a quick drink. I was only there about fifteen minutes. I didn’t see the relevance, so I didn’t mention it.”

  “Identical murders point to a single murderer,” Rocky said.

  “And we were all there—when Melissa was killed,” Vince said. He leaned forward. “Rocky, I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill any of them, I swear it. I can prove it. Well, I can’t prove everything—but I can prove where I was when the last woman was murdered.”

  “You can?”

  “That’s good, right?” Vince asked.

  Rocky lifted his hands. “The more people I can clear, the better I can concentrate on who the real killer might be.”

  Vince pulled one of the cocktail napkins on the table closer to him, drew a pen from his jacket pocket and began to write. He pushed the paper to Rocky. “Ellen Cahill. Give her a call. She’s with Douglas Marine. I represented the firm recently, and she and I became...friends. We had dinner, then she went home. I had a quick drink at the bar before joining her at her place—I wanted to arrive there a little later so that it would look as if we’d had a business dinner. She’s married, as I said, but separated at the moment, figuring things out. I’d rather you not— Well, I hope you can keep it under wraps. Anyway, I even saw her newspaper deliveryman in the morning. If you don’t believe her when she tells you I was with her all night, I’m sure you can find out his name and check with him.”

  Rocky accepted the napkin. “Thanks,” he told Vince.

  “Be discreet—if you don’t mind.”

  “I will,” Rocky said.

  “Well, what would you like to eat?” Vince asked him.

  Crow, Rocky thought.

  But had he ever believed it was Vince?

  They were desperate for clues—real clues, solid clues.

  “You look depressed,” Vince told him. “But I’m not sorry. I’m really not a killer. What have you found out? Wait, you can’t answer that. I wish I could help. Have you learned anything you can share?”

  Rocky shrugged and leaned back. “You’re distantly related to Devin’s friend Brent Corbin.”

  “Yeah?” Vince asked. ??
?Your other suspect? The guy who had her phone?”

  “Yes, although to be honest, I don’t think he did it, either.” Rocky shook his head. “You have a legal mind. You’ve dealt with the good, the bad and the ugly. Why do you think someone would kill, then stage the victim so ritualistically?”

  “The crimes aren’t sexual in any way?”

  “None of the women have been molested, no.”

  “The key has to be the ritual. The murders mean something to the killer,” Vince said.

  “What, though?”

  Vince drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Damn, Rocky, don’t you think that finding Melissa the way we did had an effect on all of us? I’ve never forgotten it. I can still see her lying there. It’s crystal clear in my mind’s eye. Hell, sometimes, I can’t remember what I had for breakfast in the morning, but I remember that sight as if it were burned into my mind.” He went silent for a minute. “The victims weren’t all from here, right?”

  “Barbara Benton was from Ohio, but she had family here back when the witch trials were going on. And our Jane Doe...who knows? I’m guessing she wasn’t from the area or someone would have stepped forward to identify her by now, but until we know who she is I can’t be sure.”

  “And they were killed like Melissa was?”

  Rocky arched a brow at him.

  Vince shrugged. “The details aren’t in the news, but you know how it goes. A cop says something even if he’s not supposed to, and lawyers are good at picking up the gossip. What I’m curious about is why the killer stopped for all those years.”

  “You tell me—what’s your take?”

  “Maybe the right people weren’t around to kill,” Vince said. “Like you said, you still don’t have an ID on the one woman, right?”

  “Nope,” Rocky agreed. “But Carly Henderson was around here all those years. And how the hell would he even know Barbara Benton existed?”

  “Maybe... Oh, hell. I don’t know. I’m an attorney. My job is to take the truth and put a spin on it that helps my client. You have to deal with the truth as it is—naked and ugly.” Vince looked at his watch. “Got to get back to work. Check out every word I said, Rocky. You’ll find the naked truth.”

  Once Vince was gone, Rocky paid the check and stood. He didn’t call the number that Vince had given him. Instead, he pulled out his phone and found the company address. The offices were on the wharf, within easy walking distance of the hotel, and he headed straight over.

  Old figureheads, ships’ wheels and pirate flags decorated the reception area. A pretty blonde woman sat at the front desk.

  Rocky didn’t produce his credentials; he asked to speak with Ellen Cahill. The blonde arched her brows in surprise. “I’m Ellen Cahill.”

  She smiled and he wondered if she saw in his eyes that he was somewhat surprised that Vince could have tried to pull off his date as a business dinner if Ellen was a secretary.

  “I’m a paralegal,” she explained. “Subbing for the receptionist. I thought you might be by and figured that I’d rather meet you at this desk myself.”

  Rocky smiled and offered his hand. “I’m Craig Rockwell. You knew I was coming?”

  She nodded and rose to take his hand. “Yes, I’ve heard all about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for not making calls and just... Well. I don’t know where my future is going. But I am separated now—just not advertising what I’m doing.”

  “I guess you know that I’m an agent—in town because of the murders?”

  She nodded somberly. “Yes.”

  “There was a murder the other night—the woman had been at a bar where you and Vince were the same night.”

  Ellen Cahill shuddered. “I know! I heard. That’s so horrible!”

  “Well, I guess I came to stress just how careful you need to be.”

  Ellen nodded fervently. “I know! And Vince has been wonderful. Thankfully, we were together that night and he called me earlier today—I won’t be going home alone again until this whole thing is over. Thankfully that night...” She paused and flushed and started over. “That night, I left alone. But then, we were together when it was all happening. When I was talking to Vince today, he said that he won’t let me be alone again!”

  “That’s good,” Rocky said. “That’s very good.”

  “You have to catch this horrible person,” Ellen said.

  “We’re trying,” he assured her. “But you’re right. Don’t be alone. And, I swear, we’re doing our best to get him as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, and my prayers are with you!” Ellen said. “Lovely to have met you.”

  Rocky said, “Thank you, and I’m delighted to meet you, as well. Um, best of luck with whatever your decision may be.”

  “Thank you.”

  He left the offices, certain that the woman had been telling him the truth.

  Standing on the street, Rocky felt compelled to call Devin and make sure she was all right.

  She was.

  She was at the cottage with Jane and Angela, who were, she assured him quietly, the best watchdogs ever.

  Then she asked, “Did you talk to Sam?” she asked him.

  “Sam?”

  “Yes, he was trying to reach you. He matched one of the fingerprints they lifted off my back door.”

  “Oh?” he asked sharply. He quickly looked at his phone and saw that he had missed Sam’s call.

  “It was Beth’s. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. She’s been over here dozens of times,” Devin said.

  “Wouldn’t she use the front door?” Rocky asked sharply.

  “We’ve been friends since we were kids. If I didn’t answer, I’m sure she would have gone around back.”

  Devin sounded defensive, Rocky thought, but she might well be right. Still... “Sure,” he said.

  “I don’t like that ‘sure,’” she told him.

  “We have to follow every lead, Devin.”

  “Beth...come on, you know her, too, now. It’s just not possible. You should have seen her back in school, Rocky! She was so shy and sweet—I’m amazed she’s even managed to open a shop. She’s come so far.”

  “Anything is possible. I’m just going to stop in at the store and see how she’s doing,” he said.

  “Rocky...”

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t accuse her outright. I’d like to have a few friends left in the area.”

  “I’ll be the model of courtesy and discretion,” he promised her.

  She sniffed. She didn’t seem to believe him. “What else is going on? What about Vince—anything?”

  “A verified alibi,” Rocky said. “See you soon.”

  He hung up, then headed for Essex Street and Beth’s shop. Beth was showing a couple, the only customers, jewelry from the counter display case, but she looked up and saw him, and waved.

  He didn’t see Theo or Gayle and assumed they were in the back, giving readings.

  He began to look through the books displayed at the end of the counter, waiting for Beth to be free.

  The couple bought an amulet and left. She caught his eye and gave him a radiant smile.

  “I was in the area, thought I’d stop by,” he told her.

  “That was nice of you,” she said cheerfully. Then her expression turned anxious. “Are you getting anywhere? Anything new?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. I’m a little worried about all of you, frankly.”

  “Us?” Beth asked.

  “Yeah, pretty young women with family histories that stretch back to the witch trials.” Rocky smiled and watched her. “Rebecca Beckett Masters,” he said, thinking back to what Devin had told him and hoping he had it right.

  Beth looked at him in surprise. “Masters?” she asked.

  “She was your bunch-of-greats-grandmother. Born a Beckett.”

  “I think I have a family tree somewhere. I wasn’t related to anyone interesting, though. Wait, that sounds terrible. I’m
sure they were interesting people. But I wasn’t related to any of the convicted ‘witches’ or their accusers, or to any of the examiners or magistrates or anything.” She smiled. “My ancestors were apparently fond of living, and that meant staying as far away from controversy as they could.”

  “Smart,” Rocky said. “You and Devin have been friends for ages, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Best friends.”

  He grew serious, leaning on the counter. “Beth, were you over at Devin’s recently?”

  “I go by a lot— What do you mean by recently?” she asked. “I was there last night, with everyone else.”

  “Before last night.”

  Beth pondered the question. “I think I went by a few days ago—but Devin wasn’t home. I checked all around the house. I can’t remember exactly when...maybe Gayle can. Oh! Or Brent. He went with me. I remember now, because I went around to knock on the back door and he yelled at me—you know, because the woods are right there.”

  “You must be worried about Devin, huh?” he asked her.

  “Because the woods are so close and someone was already killed there?” Beth asked. “I am. But,” she said, and paused, grinning, “I guess she has you.”

  “She does have me,” he said.

  As he spoke, Gayle emerged from the curtained-off area at the back of the store, accompanied by a young man, presumably a client. She told him to have a good day, then joined Beth and Rocky at the counter.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling. “Anything new?” she asked him.

  “I wish I could say we’d caught him, but no,” he said. “Hey, any new necklaces yet?” he asked Beth.

  “No, I’m afraid not. I promised to let you know when I had some, and I really will,” Beth said.

  “Thanks. I guess I was just hoping.”

  “Aren’t they a little feminine for you?” Gayle said. “And if you’re thinking of getting one for Devin, she bought one just the other day.”

  “My mom,” Rocky said. “She’s not living in the area anymore, and I’d love to send her one.”

  “What a sweet idea,” Gayle said.

  “Hey, Gayle, do you remember what day Brent and I went by Devin’s after work?” Beth asked her.

  Gayle shrugged and shook her head. “A couple or three days ago, I guess.”