The Witching Hours, page 23
“We’ve got this!” the older officer assured them.
“Something has gone on in there!” Skye whispered to Zach.
But what?
“Okay, no one saw a witch. But Connie thought that she saw a witch,” Skye said. “And now the waitress has disappeared, but she couldn’t have been working alone.”
They paused in the café dining area, looking around at the charming wooden tables and the artistic paintings on the wall—most of them depicting cherubs and other mystical forest creatures, fairies in many, a few bumbling but charming ogres in others.
“Do you think that a painting scared her?” Skye asked.
He shook his head. “No, the paintings are all too … fun. Cute? It’s a truck stop, but an area hangout as well.”
A few of the tables remained clean and ready for guests.
Others had the remnants of meals on them—food just left there, as the customers apparently decided it wasn’t worth staying to try to eat.
“Kitchen?” Zach suggested.
“Yeah.”
They headed back into the service area. Steam flowed above the kitchen’s long grill.
Water still boiled, spilling over on a stovetop.
There was no one there.
“What the heck happened?” Skye remarked.
“There was a waitress here, a woman of about fifty, pleasant, and capable of moving fast, greeting people, never seeming to lose her cool—though she was confused as hell about the way Connie tore out of here. I came back here; the cook was reading an order the waitress had just brought in. He didn’t even know a woman had jumped up in alarm and gone running out to the street. He was also ready to talk, to give me anything that I needed; but with no one and nothing here, I figured it was more important that I come out and see if I could find you or the detective.”
“She’s alive because you found us,” Skye reminded him.
He nodded. “But … what the hell happened here? Where is the waitress I met? Where is the cook?”
“Not out front—we would have seen them. Out back?”
“There’s got to be a delivery entrance,” Zach said, heading toward a large freezer at the back of the kitchen. “Here!” he called.
She followed him. He opened double doors to a delivery area, where trucks could easily come in and out. Trash cans and recycle bins were lined up against the wall of the place, and Zach walked to them, frowning.
“Here!” he shouted. “Skye, keep the officers and get more ambulances!”
“Right—”
“I found the cook and the waitress.”
He slammed a couple of the cans out of the way, hunkering down. “At least, the waitress has a pulse! We need help. Fast!”
Skye didn’t go back in through the kitchen; she tore around the building to reach the front, where the police officers were still speaking with a number of the patrons who had fled from the café.
“Ambulance! Help, now, please!”
The young policewoman was on her phone immediately. The older officer nodded at Skye, asking, “Where? What?”
“Around here!” she said, showing the way, heading back to where Zach was working with the victims.
He was by the cook then, desperately performing CPR.
“Let me! I was a paramedic before I joined the force,” the officer told him.
Zach nodded and moved.
Skye saw he had lifted the unconscious waitress and had moved her onto a little stretch of grass at the side of the bins.
There was a dumpster, too, at the end of the row of plastic recycling and garbage bins; she didn’t want to look.
But she did.
To her relief, there were no bodies in it.
It seemed like the EMTs and an ambulance arrived in just seconds. Zach was explaining that the waitress had received a stab wound. He’d been able to staunch the flow of her blood; and she had a pulse, a weak one. The officer had gotten the cook’s heart pumping again; but this victim, too, had suffered a stab wound in the thigh.
The officer glanced at Zach. “Luckily for this gentleman, our special agent friend knows how to tie a tourniquet.”
The injured cook and waitress were quickly and carefully transferred to stretchers and the EMTs took off.
Zach looked at Skye.
“Hospital, I guess.”
“Divide and conquer?” she asked. “Someone needs to get in there and talk to our witch from the woods,” she reminded him.
“All right, wait—these two aren’t going to talk for a while. And Connie may take some time getting her head clear. You’re right. Let’s go to the station. Let’s go talk to our witch.”
Zach turned to the police officer. “You guys finished up here? Forensic detail to check out the kitchen area?”
The older officer smiled and came over and shook Zach’s hand.
“You know your stuff. That guy may well live.”
“Ah,” Zach said, “but I’m sure you far surpass my expertise with CPR.”
“We both did good!” the officer said. “And get out of here, do what you need to do. I’m not sure what the heck we can get; but yeah, we’ll have forensics come out.”
“Thanks,” Zach said.
Skye gave him a smile and a nod, and the two of them headed for their car. The young policewoman finished up with the last of the customers and walked toward them as they came around the building.
“Got them all,” she told them. “Names and addresses, just in case we need them.”
“Thank you,” Skye told the female officer, handing the young woman her business card. “If you can—”
“I will get them emailed to you right away,” she said.
They both thanked her and walked across the road to the car.
It was dark, Skye realized.
They’d run all morning, starting with the roads, heading to the costume shop. By the time they’d gotten to the station and talked to Gavin and his captain, the afternoon had come on.
The much-needed press conference had been given.
They’d come out to the café and found Connie and the witch.
They’d discovered the half-dead waitress and cook.
And, of course, it was now night.
She glanced at Zach and realized he had bloodstains on his clothing.
“We’re so lucky!” she whispered.
He looked at her, arching a brow as if she were crazier than a loon.
“Lucky?”
“They’re alive! Two people are alive because you know how to move quickly!” she told him.
He smiled, but his smile faded. “I’m grateful, yes. But there are more than just two people involved in this. The main person—or persons—target people in trouble with addiction or mental problems, or people who are desperate to keep kids alive. Whatever is on their agenda, it’s coming soon. Skye, I think this was happening a while before the witch came to take Jeremy Bolton—and to kill Mike. Again, I’m not sure why Mike was killed, and I sure don’t understand how no one saw anything but Connie—and someone decided they still needed to kill the waitress and the cook.”
“All right,” Skye said, theorizing with him, “so they were bringing people in before, maybe weeks before the Bolton murder and kidnapping. And they could have stuck with addicts and the homeless, or people they could easily control with drugs and brainwashing. But then they went to the Bolton house and the Howell costume shop. They did things that were guaranteed to bring attention to them. Of course, the witch costume might be part of the brainwashing, or it’s just a way to do things without giving away their faces. Prosthetics do a major number on recognition, even in the best facial-recognition program.”
“So, when they got to those measures, they weren’t worried about the fact the police would get in on it?” Zach theorized.
“Because whatever they’re planning is imminent,” Skye murmured, “as you said and believe.”
“Exactly.”
“But what?”
“We’ll try calling back to headquarters again,” Zach said. “See if they’ve found any possibilities.”
Skye nodded. Frowning, she looked down at her phone as it buzzed.
“What?” Zach asked.
“That was from the female cop we just met. Her name’s Officer Lucy Carmichael. She forgot to mention one thing. There was an advertisement on the television above the counter in the restaurant. One of the local networks is going to be showing The Wizard of Oz several times next week.”
“So, somehow, they drugged Connie; then she saw the TV …”
“And freaked out,” Skye said. “Freaked out at the sight of Margaret Hamilton acting in the movie in green makeup and …”
“Ran across the road and right into one of Salem’s contemporary wicked witches!” Zach said. But he glanced at Skye briefly before asking, “How in the hell did she go on the run? Just walk into that café—and wind up drugged enough to run from the sight of an actress on the screen and right into a real would-be killer?”
CHAPTER 16
When they arrived at the station, they were greeted by Captain Claybourne.
Zach saw that the man was grave and serious.
Claybourne was also glad to see them. Any hesitance he might have about his lieutenant inviting them in was gone.
Well, he was missing three of the people he counted on: Bruns, Cason, and Berkley.
“I’ve had the fellow in the interrogation room since he was brought in. First of all, we want to thank you both for finding Detective Berkley—and for saving her life.”
“It’s what we all do,” Zach said. “All of us, right? But thanks. We’re hoping they’ll manage to bring her down into a sense of reality soon enough. When we saw her last—when we first got out of the woods—she was having flashes.”
“Yes, Gavin phoned me; told me she was going in and out, most of the time just moaning that she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know,” the captain stated.
“It will take time to clean out her system,” Zach said. “Now, of course, we’re hoping the restaurant staff survives.”
“We heard about the situation in the back and it’s horrible. More and more innocents just going about their lives. Of course, we’re all hoping they’ll pull through. Please, though, the witch in the interrogation room is all yours. He’s been fingerprinted. But it doesn’t show in the system. And he refuses to give us a name. To be honest, he’s been cooling his heels for only a few minutes—he’s been given one of our local jumpsuits after being sent into one of the station showers. At least, we can now see what the fellow looks like. We had the doc check out his face; but while he’s swollen up, you didn’t break his jaw. Which means he can talk just fine. Doc says he’s about forty; he diagnosed he’s been homeless, or living on the street, for a long time, since his skin and other factors point to a lack of nutrition.”
“Sounds just like the target victim for our main witches,” Skye answered.
“You can take a look at him from the observation room before you go in,” Claybourne said. “He also doesn’t want an attorney; he doesn’t want to talk. Maybe one of you can do something with him.”
“Cleaned up and ready,” Zach said.
“Hey, we did put him in there and did just leave him. That often starts to make people nervous, good and bad. Oh, he was very offended; we tried to make sure that every bit of work with him was proper procedure, so we made a point about offering him an attorney again. He told the officer who was speaking with him that the attorneys were the worst devils of them all. And, of course, cops like us, we come right after attorneys,” Claybourne said. “You know, of course, that Bruns went to the hospital with Berkley.”
“Yes, sir, we know,” Zach assured him.
“Bruns is a good cop, but more. He’s a good man. He feels a great responsibility for those under his command. Anyway, it’s late and you must be worn as ragged as the rest of us. See what you can do with this witch, and then get out of here—go home and get some sleep. No one in the hospital will be able to speak until then, not with anything that resembles truth or sense.”
“Yes, Captain, thank you. I just feel that—”
“Something horrible is going on; people are in danger. Yes, Special Agent Erickson, I am well aware. And we do have people working around the clock.”
“Of course,” Skye said pleasantly. “You know how it is—”
“Yes, to be in the field, and feel that sense that you must keep going because you’re so afraid you’re failing people. We all work as teams, you know. All of us, here, members of this department—and with others when we work together.”
“Let’s see if we can get somewhere,” Skye said.
“Together?” Zach asked her.
“That might be the right play—the two of us were the ones who stopped him in the forest,” Skye said.
“I want to get a good look at this guy first,” Zach told her.
“Come on, then. We’ll head to the observation room. I’ll want to watch when you go in, of course,” Claybourne told them.
“Absolutely,” Zach said. He wished Gavin were there, but he understood why the man was at the hospital.
But they could use Gavin’s mind “expertise” with the man they were about to question.
Through the one-way glass in the observation room, Zach looked closely at the man. He knew he’d never seen him before; and what the doctor had told Claybourne appeared to be right—the man was fortyish in appearance; hair clean, but a wreck, with some graying and unevenly cut around his face; his actual complexion was pale and slightly splotchy, as if he’d spent a long time receiving little nutrition.
They’d uncuffed him. His hands were on the table. He just stared ahead, bleakly; his face was long and his expression rather like a depressed bloodhound’s.
“Ready?” Skye asked him.
“Sure. Take the lead,” Zach told her. “After all, you met him first. Seriously, I think he might respond better to you.”
“All right.”
But before they could go in, an officer opened the door, looking at the captain. “Sir, there’s someone to see you—a couple and a teenage girl. They’re agitated, but want to speak with you or Lieutenant Bruns. I thought …”
“You thought right,” the captain said. “You two go ahead. Get started. It may prove to be a long session.”
Captain Claybourne headed out to meet the waiting people.
Zach looked at Skye again.
“Let’s do this,” she said. “All we do is get nothing,” she added dryly.
They entered the room and took the seats across from the man. His expression didn’t change; he didn’t look at either of them.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“We don’t want to hurt you; you do know, though, you’re going to be arraigned on serious charges. If you talk to us, we may be able to help you,” Skye said quietly.
Nothing.
They sat in silence again until Skye said softly, “Believe it or not, we do want to help you. It would be nice if we could start out with your name, Mister …” Skye’s tone was low and even, almost pleasant.
“Beelzebub,” he said flatly.
“What? No, no, no—you think we’re the ones in league with the devil. You’re the one who claims to be fighting for good things, fighting against the devil,” she said.
He shook his head dismally. “I failed the master. Now …”
“Your so-called master is an evil man! You were threatening to kill a woman,” Skye reminded him.
“No! She was a witch!” the man said in distress, dismayed they didn’t seem to understand the situation at all.
“No, I remember the situation exactly,” Skye told him. “When I came into the woods, you were green and wearing a witch’s hat and cape—holding a knife up to a very terrified woman.”
The man groaned.
“You don’t understand anything at all, do you?” he asked.
“No, we don’t, so anything you can explain to us will be very helpful,” Skye said encouragingly.
“All right, the world as we live in it is a mess. Surely, you see that. The rich can buy almost anything, including people. And then men and women get into power; and when they have power, they become drunk with it. They abuse it and they hurt everything and everyone around them. The problem is, years and years and years ago, someone stopped the people from ridding the world of those who did dance with the devil. That’s why the world is still so corrupt. If you don’t see that’s what’s happening …”
Skye leaned in close. “The world can be very hard. But how does hurting children and innocent people help that?” she asked.
“The master teaches; he never hurts anyone. And he is constantly thinking and looking for ways to stop all the devil dancers—ways that won’t just stop evil here, but around the world!”
“Money—” Skye began.
“The master cares nothing for money!” the man said.
There was a tap at the door. Zach glanced at Skye, letting her know he’d slip out.
When he did, he discovered Gavin had returned to the station; he and the captain were in the hallway waiting to speak to him.
Gavin looked at Zach first, giving him a slight nod. Zach knew that Gavin had been watching for perhaps just a minute or two, and he was going to tell him what he had observed.
In front of Claybourne, Gavin would have a good physical or logical reason why he had his opinion.
“He’s telling the truth about what he believes,” Gavin said. “The man is completely brainwashed.”
“Yes, it seems so,” Captain Claybourne said. “The people who arrived are the Dunn family. They’d heard about the commotion at the café, and they wanted to know if we had any news on Bella. Gavin got the idea to let them come into the observation room and look at this man, and Gavin’s instinct was right on. They recognized him as someone who had been at Bella’s rehab. Sheryl had met him when she visited her sister one day and knew his name was David.”
