Never Burn A Witch argi-2, page 12
part #2 of A Rowan Gant investigation Series
“Rowan, how nice to see you.” Her voice floats mellifluously, displacing a demonic rushing noise in my ears. “It’s been so long.”
I cannot believe it is she. She is dead. This cannot be her.
“Ariel?” I question.
She jerks and spasms. The smile flees her lips. Her eyes grow wide and she looks down. A small spot of crimson appears on the high neck of the lace gown and begins growing.
Spreading.
Her mouth falls open in shock, and bright blood trickles from the corner of her lips. She looks back at me with questioning eyes, and the vermilion stain waxes unceasingly, covering her chest.
Running.
Dripping.
“Why Rowan?” she mouths. “Why?”
“Why don’t you stop him, Rowan?” her gurgling voice echoes, “Why?”
Darkness.
I could feel that the unstoppable flood of hideous visions had completely overpowered both Karyl and Starr. Enthralled by sadistic nightmares that no one should be made to witness, let alone live. I braced myself against yet another wave of remembered agony as I struggled to slam the ethereal door.
“Kendra Darlene Miller…”
“…As you are damned in body and soul, your sentence on this day is death. The sentence is to be executed immediately, without appeal, in the manner of expurgation by fire.”
“Expurgation by fire…”
“Kendra Darlene Miller…”
“Expurgation by fire…”
“No. No, this can’t be.”
“May The Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon your soul.”
I cannot move.
I can hear the scraping of a match against stone.
I cannot scream.
I can hear the explosive spark as the match ignites.
“Somebody please help me!”
“Kendra Darlene Miller…”
“Damned in body and soul…”
“Your sentence on this day is death…”
“Expurgation by fire…”
Hot yellow agony licks across my body.
Fire clings to me in a vicious shroud. I’m holding my breath as the flame washes over my face, furiously catching my hair and blossoming upward with yet another loud crash.
I cannot scream…
With one final push, I levered the mental door shut and forcibly ejected Karyl and Starr from my mind. From beginning to end the entire incident took place in less than a minute. Our outward expressions, however, were enough to tell Ben and Carl that something was definitely going on.
“Hey! Knock, knock…” Carl’s voice poured into my ear in a viscous flow. “Earth to Rowan.”
“Yo, white man? Are you three okay?” Ben’s voice followed, whirlpooling in behind Deckert’s as I snapped soundly back to the physical realm.
I nodded as I turned my concerned attentions to Karyl and Starr. “What? Yeah. Fine. Yeah, I’m okay.”
The two women were staring back at me blankly. Momentarily, a small glimmer of emotion crept into Karyl’s expression and was almost instantly followed by a pair of large tears rolling down her cheeks. A split second later her face was joined with the palms of her hands, and her shoulders began to heave as she quietly sobbed.
“I’m sorry,” I delicately offered, “but at the risk of sounding heartless, you brought it on yourselves.”
“Brought what on their selves?” Carl interjected in a puzzled tone as he switched his gaze back and forth between the two women and me. “What’re you talking about?”
“I apologize,” Starr announced, eyes watering as she choked back her own desire to cry. “You are, of course, correct, and that was…” She swallowed hard and steeled herself against the sorrow and fear that threatened to overtake her. “…It was very rude of us.”
“It’s okay,” I soothed. “I understand.”
“I am afraid that Karyl is in no condition to proceed with this interview,” she continued while she could. “However, if you gentlemen would be so kind as to wait right here, I will be back in a moment… and I will do my best to answer any questions you may have.”
I nodded. “Of course. Take your time.”
Carl waited until the two women had left the room and were out of earshot before turning to me and tossing his hands up. “Could someone please tell me what just happened? One minute she’s a freakin’ ice princess then the next thing you know she looks like she’s about to start bawlin’ and she’s apologizin’ to you… And what was that ‘you brought it on yerself’s’ stuff?”
“In their zeal to… read me psychically shall we say,” I explained, “they got a little carried away and looked at a few memories they would have been better off not seeing.”
“They did WHAT?” His eyes grew wide as he made the exclamation.
“Trust me, Carl,” I told him. “It’s a Witch thing.”
Behind me, Ben softly whistled the opening theme from the Twilight Zone.
*****
“I apologize for Karyl,” Starr told us as she centered herself back on the love seat and self-consciously smoothed her pleated, tartan skirt. Her slightly reddened eyes testified to the fact that she had shed a few tears as well. “She and Kendra were lovers once…” She paused then added, “Before us of course.
“She was taking her death pretty hard to begin with and seeing that…vision…” She allowed her voice to melt into silence then took a deep breath and continued, “My apologies once again to you, Mister Gant. I am certain that reliving those images must have been just as painful for you as well.”
“Rowan. Please,” I replied. “And it’s all right. I just hope the two of you will be okay.”
She smiled. Briefly, but she smiled. She was very striking to begin with, and the smile betrayed the gentle side of the sharp-edged attorney who had been seated there only minutes ago.
She drew in another deep breath and exhaled heavily then asked, “How can I help?”
“Do you know if Miss Miller, or anyone in your group for that matter,” Carl responded, “has been threatened or harassed lately?”
“She mentioned that she had been receiving religious junk mail,” she answered. “But that’s not unusual. Once your name is on a mailing list, it gets circulated everywhere.”
“Nothing else?” he pressed. “Was she maybe approached by anyone that you know of?”
“No. Not that I am aware of, unless you count e-mail.”
“Go on.”
“She received some rather nasty messages on the internet… A month or two back if I remember correctly. ‘Repent now, or burn in hell’ kind of messages. She reported them to her provider, and I assume they took care of it. She never received any more.”
“Did she have any idea who the messages were from or how the person got ‘er e-mail address?” Ben interjected.
“No. She had no idea who was sending them.”
“Whoever it was probably pulled her address down from a newsgroup or something,” I offered. “That would also explain why the person knew her religion. There are several discussion groups about Paganism, Wicca and The Craft. All she had to do was post a message to one of them and her e-mail address became public knowledge.”
“Lovely,” Ben huffed as he scribbled in his notebook.
Turning back to Starr, I asked, “Do you happen to know who her provider was?”
“Not offhand.” She shook her head. “I have her e-mail address, if that would help?”
“Yes. I would appreciate getting that from you later.”
Ben and Carl both shot me curious looks.
“If her internet service provider was filtering the e-mail for her in order to bounce or trap the offensive messages,” I outlined for their benefit, “we might be able to get a domain designation from them.”
They continued to look at me expectantly.
“Kind of like tracing a phone call.” I simplified my explanation. “If we’re lucky, we might be able to determine the origin of the message, the account it was sent from, and maybe even the person who owns the account.”
The expectant looks turned into amazed stares.
“Remember, I make my living with computers. WitchCraft is a part of my belief system. It’s not my profession.”
“I’ll get one of our gurus on that,” Ben assented with an oh yeah, now I remember expression on his face and penned himself a quick reminder.
Carl looked back to the young woman and continued the line of questions. “Did anyone else in your group get any of these e-mails or junk mail?”
“I don’t think so.” She pursed her lips and canted her head to the side then stared off thoughtfully for a moment. “No. I can’t remember anyone mentioning any, although… Brianna did say she had been getting quite a few prank phone calls. Hang-ups mostly, but she did seem a little disturbed by them.”
“Brianna?” Ben looked up from his notepad, shot a glance at Carl then me and finally back to Starr.
“Yes,” she answered. “Brianna Walker. She is a member of our Coven. I can give you her number if you’d like, though she may be out of town. I haven’t been able to reach her this past week.”
“Brianna LOUISE Walker?” Ben ventured again. “Also known as Mistress Bree?”
“Yes, Detective Storm,” she returned. “Please don’t tell me you arrested her while working vice or something. At a time like this, I hardly see why something like that should…”
“Miz Winston,” Carl interrupted as Starr began to defend her friend and fellow sister of The Craft. “I don’t quite know how to tell you this…”
“Tell me what? What’s wrong?”
“Brianna Walker appears to have been the killer’s first victim,” Ben detailed concisely. “Her name hasn’t been released yet because we’ve been unable to contact her next of kin.”
She looked at Ben incredulously, then to Detective Deckert, then brought her eyes to meet mine and shook her head. Her lips parted slightly as she mouthed a silent “No.”
The blunt hammer of emotional pain that descended upon her secured itself a two-for-one deal as she remained supernaturally connected to me through our locked gaze. For a fleeting moment, I felt a hard lump rise in my throat and a caustic burn flood through my sinuses as my own eyes began to water.
I glanced away to break the ethereal union then stared off into space and uttered the only words that came to my clouded mind, “I’m so very sorry.”
“Miz Winston,” Ben ventured calmly but firmly as she started to tremble. “In light of this information, I think it’d be prudent for you to give us a list of your Coven members and their phone numbers. For their own safety…”
CHAPTER 10
“Well sure I could be wrong… I hope like hell I am if you wanna know the truth.” Ben was forcing himself to speak in hushed tones.
Earlier, he had sequestered himself outside the entrance of the room in the narrow hall in order to jumpstart the Major Case Squad with the latest information. He had then proceeded to contact the local police department trying to obtain protection for Karyl and Starr. While he made a seemingly endless series of calls, one leading to the next, Carl Deckert and I remained in the sitting room with the grieving young attorney. She was holding up amazingly well under the circumstances, even considering her connection with The Craft. I suppose her profession had taught her how to remain calm and detached. Still, her distress was visible.
“Look, I’d just rather be wrong on the side of caution instead of endin’ up with another body.” He continued, “Can you understand that?”
Both Carl and I could still hear Ben’s voice and with only a little effort were able to make out everything he was saying. Starr, on the other hand, was too distraught to notice much of what was going on around her. Considering the subject matter of his conversations, doubtless that was for the best.
There was a short pause while, I assume, he was listening to the person on the other end of the cell phone. I almost didn’t need my heightened senses to feel his impatience-it was simply that palpable.
“I don’t get this! Am I just not makin’ myself clear to you or somethin’? Do ya’ want me to say it slower, is that it?” he spat sarcastically into the phone. “Listen close. A prominent member of your quiet little community here just might be the target of a serial killer. What I want is for you to get a uniform over here and give ‘er some protection! It’s that simple! Uh-huh… Yeah… Well tell ya’ what then, why don’tcha put someone on the line who can help me.”
While we waited, Starr went upstairs to check in on Karyl. She returned briefly, having elected not to inform her of Brianna’s death as yet, and told us that the young woman was resting peacefully in the bedroom. Earlier, she admitted, the help of a recently prescribed sedative had been necessary to calm the overwrought blonde, and now it seemed senseless and cruel to wake her only to give her another dose of heartbreaking news. I was inclined to agree.
“Is there someone you’d like us to call for you?” Carl asked in a soothing voice. “A relative? A friend maybe?”
“No. No one, Detective.” She shook her head. “Thank you for offering.”
“Can we get you anything?” I queried and shrugged. “A glass of water? Coffee? Aspirin?”
“No… Yes… Yes, Mister Gant, you could.” She pointed across the room. “There is some brandy in that cupboard.”
At Starr’s request I poured her a stiff ration of the liquor from the heirloom cabinet bar in the corner. Judging from the label on the bottle and the cork that sealed it, the brandy was in reality a rather pricey cognac. She sipped it eagerly, almost gulping at first. Remembering my recent and similar actions with a bottle of bourbon, I urged her to slow down. She nodded, realizing through her distress that I was correct, and set the crystal snifter aside with at least a small amount of the expensive spirits left in it.
Momentarily, she rummaged about in the drawer of an end table then withdrew a small rectangular box and opened it.
“I have to keep them hidden,” she told us with a small, sorrowful laugh as she placed a cigarette between her lips, “Karyl thinks I quit… But I’m sure she knows.”
Carl and I simply nodded mutely and watched her light it with trembling hands.
“Well frankly I don’t give two shits about your goddamned contract!” Ben’s voice echoed into the room as he tersely erupted out in the corridor, “Right now I’ve got two bodies down at the morgue. One of ‘em was thrown off a balcony and the other one was… No, YOU wait just a minute!” his voice rose in pitch again. One thing you never did to Ben Storm was to interrupt him.
His tone lowered to a simmering “I mean business” tenor and he continued, “Look, number one-both of these women were tortured before they were killed. Number two-we have reason to believe the killer is targeting persons with alternative religions. And finally, number three-both of them were members of the same small religious group-the same one that two of your local residents are members of. Now for me, that sets off some alarms. What about you?”
He paused for a moment, and I heard him let out an exasperated huff.
“Yeah… Yeah… Well why don’t ya’ do that… Uh-huh, well trust me, I will… Yeah, I’ll be sure to let Ms. Winston know just exactly how concerned you folks are for her welfare… Yeah, same to ya’.”
We heard him close the flap on the portable phone with an angry snap that was followed immediately by a disgusted mumble, “…And the fuckin’ horse you rode in on, too, ya’ lousy sonofabitch.”
I caught Carl’s eye and jerked my head toward the room’s entrance. He nodded acknowledgement and gave the anguished young woman next to him a fatherly pat on the shoulder.
“Will you be okay for a bit, Ms. Winston?” he asked as she broke her hollow stare and looked up at him. “Rowan and I need to talk to Detective Storm for just a minute.”
“Yes…yes, Detective, I’ll be fine,” she answered mechanically.
“We’ll just be right outside the door,” he added and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before joining me to crowd into the narrow passageway.
“That didn’t sound good,” I remarked in a near whisper as I wedged myself through and leaned against a doorjamb. “What did they say?”
“Awww, they’re all fucked up,” Ben replied, still seething from the conversation with the uncooperative Lansbury Police Department. “They don’t wanna send anyone over unless I can tell ‘em who’s gonna pay for it.”
“Pay for it?” I was confused.
“Lansbury is pretty small,” Carl explained. “Their police department isn’t really a police department per se. Truthfully, it’s not much more than a handful of rent-a-cops hired out through a third-party security firm. All they’re ever worried about is money.”
“So what are you going to do?” I appealed.
“Well, they’re still inside the county, so technically we have jurisdiction…” he mused. “Of course, we’re stretched pretty thin as it is…”
Ben reached up and smoothed his hair back then let his large hand rest on the back of his neck. Slowly his fingers started working on a tense knot at the base, and he grimaced thoughtfully, “Yeah, Carl, I know. Right now I’ve got Martin and Kelly back at the command post contactin’ everyone on the list she gave us.” He cocked his head toward the other room to indicate Starr.
“From what we can tell so far, it looks like they all live in areas with real coppers,” he detailed. “That’ll help a lot, so there shouldn’t be much fuss about gettin’ police protection for ‘em. Of course, they haven’t reached everyone on the list yet.”
He continued working the back of his neck with his large hand and puffed his cheeks out with a fatigued sigh.
“Jeezus, what a mess!” he finally exclaimed. “I guess it’s gonna be up ta’ us to keep watch over these two.”
“How are the higher ups going to feel about you playing bodyguard?” I asked, “Seems to me they get a little concerned over budgets too.”
“Lemme ask you this,” He stared directly into my face and raised an eyebrow, “Do you think this asshole might come after another one of the women in this group?”
