Ben had demolished a plate of sandwiches by the time the doorbell rang. At the sound, the dogs immediately shifted into territorial protection mode and yelped riotously. The cats, which had been entertaining themselves in a free-for-all wrestling match, scattered. Salinger, our Himalayan, was the only feline left to be seen, and he was perched well out of reach on the exposed rafters of the living room.
When Felicity and I remodeled our house, we had vaulted the ceiling in an effort to create a lofty, open feel. The cats had discovered the rafters and learned, to their great delight, that they afforded both a safe haven and a bird’s eye view of everything that happened in the room. Salinger sat upon them now, intently studying the scene below. It was clear he thought something interesting was about to happen.
I answered the door as Ben assisted Felicity in setting out platters of freshly made sandwiches and honey cakes along with a large thermal carafe of iced chamomile tea, as it had inherent calmative properties. We wanted the surroundings to be as comfortable and hospitable as possible for this group.
To Wiccans, the death of a brother or sister of The Craft is supposed to be considered a graduation, an advancement to the next level of learning, and therefore treated not as a time of sorrow but as a time of celebration. I assumed the members of the group would be of roughly the same age as R.J. Because of this, I suspected that this was the first time any of them would be dealing with the crossing over of a fellow Witch. This fact, combined with the circumstances of Ariel’s death, was likely to bring on grief as opposed to happiness.
Once the necessary questioning was finished this evening, Felicity and I would be taking it upon ourselves to offer counsel to this leaderless coven and help them along their path.
Swinging the door open, I was greeted by a small huddle on my front porch. Apparently, Ariel’s coven believed in safety in numbers, and they had elected to descend upon us as a group. Turning, I commanded our two boisterous canines to sit. They immediately planted themselves where they stood, though Quigley, the Australian cattle dog, continued to whine quietly. With the commotion settled, I returned to the task at hand and pushed the screen door open with a smile.
“Rowan Gant?” a young brunette queried.
“That’s me,” I answered. “Come on in.”
I held the door as the five of them filed in and proceeded to nervously mill about in my living room. I closed the door, turned to our guests, and noticed that there were no familiar faces.
“How many more of you should we be expecting?” I asked.
“This is it,” replied the brunette guardedly. She had apparently been elected speaker for the group. “Except for R.J.”
“I noticed he was missing,” I returned, smiling. “Didn’t he come with you?”
“No,” she answered. “We aren’t sure where he is. He called all of us and said to be here at seven tonight.”
“Well,” I proceeded, “I’m sure he’s just running a little late.” I held out my hand to her. “Since he’s not here to do the introductions, I suppose we should do that ourselves. Obviously, you have me at a bit of a disadvantage…”
“Calliope,” she said, taking my hand. “But everyone calls me Cally.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Cally proceeded solemnly around the group, and I was introduced to Shari and Jennifer, two blonde young women who were obviously identical twins. Continuing, I met a tall, lanky young man with hair the color of a ripened tomato named Randy and finally, his wife, a statuesque woman with dark, penetrating eyes and coal black hair. Her name was Nancy. I led them through the archway into our dining room and repeated the introductions for Felicity and Ben.
“So where’s the kid?” Ben asked, referring to R.J. as he surveyed the group.
“He seems to be running a little late,” I told him, adding a sharp look to encourage a bit more tact.
“Why doesn’t everyone have a seat and get comfortable,” Felicity interjected, slicing surgically through the tension in the room then motioning to the serving platters on the table. “If anyone is hungry, please help yourself. That’s what it’s here for.”
We had installed both leaves in the table, and it was more than large enough to accommodate the small gathering comfortably. There was a noticeable amount of distance kept by the group between themselves and us, especially Ben. I had a feeling that the brushed stainless, nine-millimeter pistol nestled under his arm in a shoulder holster played a role there, as he had draped his jacket over a chair, leaving the handgun exposed. He had done this purposely, I was sure, using it as an intimidation tactic on this youthful group.
It was apparent that the four young women had attempted to apply an appropriate amount of makeup to their faces in order to disguise the fact that they had been crying. It was also obvious, even to a casual observer, that Randy had shed a few tears as well.
“I’m not gonna stand on ceremony,” Ben announced with a shrug, then reached out and grabbed a sandwich.
“Aye, do you have a hollow leg or something?” Felicity gave him an astonished look. “You just ate three sandwiches less than forty-five minutes ago!”
“Don’t get decent food that often,” he told her between bites. “I’m not home that much.”
“Don’t let Cochise over here scare you,” I told the group. “Dig in. We need to wait for R.J. anyway.”
Quietly, one by one, they helped themselves to the food before them. They ate mainly in silence; uttering only necessary polite phrases required whenever offered a drink, or more to eat. It was rapidly approaching eight P.M. when the doorbell finally sounded again. Felicity brought the dogs to rapt attention as they once again began to howl, and I excused myself from the table.
As expected, R.J. was on the opposite side of the door when I pulled it open. He smiled sheepishly and pulled open the screen door.
“We were starting to wonder about you,” I told him quietly as he stepped inside.
“I’m sorry, man,” he apologized and looked around nervously. “I saw Cally’s van out front. Is everyone here?”
“Yeah,” I answered, shutting the door. “We were just waiting on you. Everyone’s in there.”
I pointed to the dining room, and he advanced around the corner with a solemn expression and joined them at the table. Something definitely seemed different about R.J. since I had last seen him, and I wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad. In any event, before he had ever exited the living room, my ears discerned a low growl followed by a throaty yowl and hiss. I turned and looking up at the rafters, saw Salinger glaring down at R.J., ears laid back and tail twitching. Animals being considered by some as good judges of character, I took note. Something about R.J. had set Salinger off. Fortunately, for the moment, I was the only one who noticed.
“Where ya’ been, kid?” Ben was asking as I rounded the corner into the dining room.
“I had some stuff to do,” R.J. answered as he took a seat next to Cally.
“You couldn’t call?” Ben retorted.
“I was busy, okay?!” The young man spat indignantly. “It’s not like I’m under arrest or something, or am I?”
“It can be arranged!” Ben challenged, starting to rise from his chair.
“All right, all right, all right,” I intervened. My voice rose with each syllable, and I motioned him to sit back down. “Before this goes any further, let’s all calm down. Now, R. J…” I looked over at him. “It would have been common courtesy for you to call and let us know you were running late.” I turned to my simmering friend. “And Ben, no one here is under arrest to my knowledge, right?”
“Right,” he answered grudgingly.
“Sorry I didn’t call,” R.J. muttered.
“I know everyone is on edge here.” Felicity reinforced my intrusion into the dispute. “But going at each other like that isn’t going to accomplish anything.”
“Listen,” Ben offered. “Maybe I was outta line jumpin’ on R.J. like that, but I’ve just got this thing about bein’ on time.”
The group looked silently around at one another then back at him. They all seemed too tightly strung but quietly nodded in assent.
“Okay then,” he proceeded. “We might as well get started then. I’ve already been through this with R.J., so I’ll ask the rest of ya’. When was the last time you saw Ariel Tanner alive?”
“See, I told you,” R.J. announced haughtily. “The cops are trying to blame it on us!”
“Do you intend to Mirandize us, Detective Storm,” Cally interjected bluntly.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess.” Ben threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. “Law student.”
Cally held her position at the table, but the look on her face showed that Ben had just exposed what she believed to be a trump card. It became immediately obvious why she had been picked as the speaker for the group. Now that he had knocked some of the wind from her sails, I hoped we could get on with what had brought us all together.
“I already told ya’,” Ben explained. “Nobody here is bein’ accused of anything. These are just routine questions. As for Miranda, since nobody is under arrest, there’s no reason to read anyone their rights. We just wanna talk to ya’ about Ariel Tanner and Devon Johnston. Okay?”
“There’s no reason for any of you to be on the defensive,” I added. “We’re all on the same side. We just want to find whoever is responsible for Ariel’s death.”
Once again they cast timid glances between themselves. Finally, someone other than Cally spoke up.
“So this isn’t just some shakedown ‘cause of us being involved in The Craft?” Randy asked.
“No,” I answered. “Not at all. Surely R.J. told you that Felicity and I are Witches. I was Ariel’s teacher.”
“Yes, he did…” Shari said.
“…But you’re with the cops,” Jennifer finished.
“So?” Ben interposed, “You got some kinda problem with cops?”
“It’s usually the police that have a problem with us,” stated Randy, still wearing a befuddled expression.
“Yeah,” Shari agreed. “Ever since that one cop here in the county started giving lectures…”
“…About how WitchCraft is evil and the same thing as Satan worship. You know,” Jennifer finished again.
“Are you two gonna do that all night?” Ben asked staring at the twins.
“Do what?” they asked simultaneously.
“Never mind,” he shook his head. “And yeah, I know what you’re talkin’ about. I’ll admit that there are quite a few coppers that don’t understand what you guys are all about. Hell, I don’t even understand it, but I can tell ya’ this… Rowan has been my friend practically forever. Shit, I was his Best Man when he and Felicity got married. I know that Rowan isn’t doin’ anything quote quote evil.” He held up his fingers and made invisible quote symbols in the air before him. “And if you guys are into the same thing he is, I’ve got no reason ta’ believe that you are either.”
“So are we all clear on where everybody stands?” I asked after an expectant pause.
“Yeah,” Cally once again spoke, this time with a relaxed smile. “We’re clear.”
The rest of the group voiced and nodded their agreement, and the tension drained quickly from the room. I had expected a little rough going at first because of Ben’s presence. The last thing that crossed my mind was that I would come under some kind of suspicion because of my relationship with the police, especially after the way R.J. had behaved toward me earlier in the day. I was painfully aware that the general public misunderstood Witches, but I never imagined that Witches would misunderstand one of their own.
As the group was settling in, I noticed Dickens, our black cat with the fondness for male visitors, lurking in the shadows. He silently padded forward to the chair R.J. was seated in and then reared back on his haunches as if he were about to climb into his lap. Suddenly, the hair along his back stood on end, and he puffed out like a furry black balloon. His ears laid back, and he dropped back down to all fours then skirted widely back around the chair to investigate Randy instead. “That’s two of them who don’t seem to like him,” I thought to myself and wondered if Emily would make her opinion known.
“I’m glad that’s taken care of,” Felicity piped up. “Now can we get down to business?”
“Ben?” I looked over to him questioningly.
We had discussed this meeting earlier between ourselves and decided that he should take the lead. What we would reveal regarding the case so far was already public knowledge. There had been a leak at the department, and the local paper’s headline for the day had read “SATANIC KILLER LOOSE IN CITY.” The story that followed contained grotesque, sensationalized details of Ariel’s death.
“As you already know,” he started, “Ariel Tanner was murdered sometime this past Wednesday evening. There were no witnesses, and I’ll spare ya’ the details of her death, except ta’ say that it was particularly gruesome, and whoever did it is one seriously sick bastard. I brought Rowan into the investigation as of Friday evening because of some symbols left at the scene. He was able to decipher what our expert couldn’t and has helped pick out a few clues we might otherwise have missed. Any questions so far?”
“R.J. said you told him that the murder was connected with The Craft,” stated Randy. “Do the symbols you mentioned have something to do with that?”
“Yes they do,” I answered. “There was a Pentacle drawn on the wall, and it was shaded with the colors of the four towers, leading me to believe they were hailed.”
“How do you know it just wasn’t something that Ariel had done?” Cally posed.
“Because,” I took a deep breath and continued, “the Pentacle was drawn, and the Southern Tower shaded, with Ariel’s blood.”
Cally gasped and the rest of the group stared on at me as if I’d just slapped them. In a way, I guess I had.
“I’m sorry,” I told them. “I really am. Believe me, it gets worse, so if you don’t think you’re up for hearing this…”
“No,” Cally answered my hanging question quietly. “Go on. We have to know what happened.”
“As long as you’re sure.” I looked on and continued only after they had all agreed. “In addition to the Pentacle, the words ‘All Is Forgiven’ were inscribed on the wall in the same manner. Also, a black candle and white candle had both been burned. A wine goblet was used, and,” I choked slightly, “it appears that Ariel’s blood was in it.”
“What does it mean?” Shari asked. “What is this guy…”
“…Some kind of vampire?” Jennifer finished.
“I doubt it,” I answered. “I expect it’s just a sick twist he added to the spell.”
“What spell?” Randy questioned.
“An Expiation spell,” Felicity explained. “You might never have dealt with one before, but it is pretty basic. It’s a ritual performed in order to rid yourself of guilt and regrets. Kind of a self atonement spell.”
“So you think whoever did it regretted killing Ariel?” Cally queried.
“So it would seem,” Felicity answered.
“That would mean you’re looking for a Witch then, right?” asked Randy.
“Yes and no,” I told him. “It’s very likely that the killer practiced WitchCraft at some point in his life, and he’s obviously familiar with the Wiccan religion to a degree. The Expiation spell shows that, even if he did warp it hideously by using Ariel’s blood.” I paused to let my words settle in. “Based on the fact that he, for one, broke the basic rule of ‘Harm None,’ and for two, went through the motions of a blood sacrifice, I would say he fancies himself a ritual magician. A mage of the Black Arts.”
“And that,” Ben sighed, “brings us back to why we asked you all to come here tonight. R.J. spoke with Rowan and me this mornin’, and I’m sure he’s told ya’ all about it.” He looked over at R.J. who dipped his head in an affirmative. “He gave us some information with regards to a Devon Johnston who was apparently hooked up with your group until recently.”
“Have you found him yet?” R.J. asked
“Not yet,” Ben answered, “but we’re lookin’.”
“I understand that Devon was starting to play around with Black Arts and the like,” I stated. “Do any of you have any thoughts on that?”
With the exception of a few questions, thus far, Ben and I had done the majority of the talking. Now, placing that burden upon the group elicited only an uneasy silence. The atmosphere might have been cleared, but the undercurrent of tension was still circulating slowly around the table.
“What about you?” Ben urged, directing the question at Nancy. “You haven’t said two words since ya’ got here. You got an opinion on this guy?”
“I didn’t know him that well,” she answered, appearing clearly apprehensive at being singled out. “I’m kind of new to the coven…I don’t really know.”
“If you want my opinion,” Cally spoke up, protectively redirecting our attention. “I don’t think Devon could’ve done it.”
“Why do you say that?” Felicity queried.
“He’s a lot of talk, and no action.”
“What about the invocation rite?” R.J. asked indignantly. “He sacrificed a dog. He showed it to all of us.”
“A dog is one thing, R.J.,” Cally retorted. “But a human being? Besides, he wouldn’t harm a hair on Ariel’s head. He was crazy about her.”
“Excuse me?” Ben chimed and gave her a look of great interest.
“That’s right.” She turned her attention to him. “The guy was madly in love with her. It just about destroyed him that she voted to cast him out of the coven.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“He told me himself.”
“When?” I urged.
“He called me the night after the coven meeting.”
“Why did he call you?” Felicity asked. “I thought it was a unanimous vote, which would mean you voted him out as well.”
“True,” Cally answered. “But I guess he figured I would still talk to him. He’s my cousin.”
“Your cousin?” Ben interposed.
“Not a blood relation,” she added quickly. “I’m adopted. I can’t say that he’s my favorite relative in the world, and what he did to that dog makes me ill, but I don’t see him killing Ariel. He had it bad for her.”
I noticed R.J.’s face was creased with a tight-lipped frown, and he appeared to be stewing. With every word that came out of her mouth, his temperature seemed to rise.
“Anyone else?” Ben asked. “What about you two?” He motioned to the twins, Shari and Jennifer.
“He was in love with Ariel all right…” Shari told us.
“…You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out,” Jennifer chimed in.
“So you don’t think he was capable of killing her?” I questioned.
“Maybe,” Jennifer answered.
“I don’t know,” stated Shari.
“He was a little weird if you ask me,” Randy spoke up.
“I’m askin’ you,” Ben told him. “You wanna elaborate on that?”
“I dunno,” Randy proceeded nervously. “He just struck me as kinda odd. He didn’t talk much, but he was really into the whole ritual thing, you know?”
“Go on,” I prodded.
“Well,” Randy continued, “I’ve been practicing for about six years now, and I don’t know about you,” he focused on Felicity then me, “but I was under the impression that Wicca is really about ‘deeds not words’ you know? Like, the ritual is just a tool and not the main focus of the religion.”
“That’s how we look at it,” Felicity told him.
“Well, not Devon,” he told us. “The ritual was it for him. If it wasn’t exactly perfect, then as far as he was concerned it wasn’t worth doing.”
“Randy’s right about that,” Cally said. “He spent all kinds of time rehearsing rituals for Sabbats.”
“He even got real upset with me at a circle once…” Shari intoned.
“…Because she didn’t recite something exactly like he wrote it,” Jennifer added.
“See!” R.J. finally burst. “You all agree that something was wrong with the guy. And Rowan just said that whoever did this was into rituals.”
“You’re just jealous, R.J.” Jennifer spat.
“What have I got to be jealous of?!” He was practically out of his chair now.
“Come off it, R.J.,” Shari told him. “Everyone knows you had the hots for Ariel too.”
“Sure we do,” Cally interjected. “You followed her around like a lost puppy.”
“Shut up, Cally!” R.J. shouted.
“Or what?” she baited.
“Stop it all of you!” Felicity was on her feet. “This is ridiculous. Your friend… Your sister in The Craft has been murdered, and you’re sitting here arguing like school children! Rowan and I studied with Ariel. I know damn well she thought better of you, or she never would have stood in circle with you then!”
The room fell silent. Each member of the group looked self-consciously about the room as the gravity of Felicity’s words set in. Chairs made shuffling noises as they shifted in their seats and shamefully realized she was correct.
“Okay,” Ben inserted his voice into the silence. “Now that that is finished… Did Miz Tanner happen ta’ mention to any of ya’ that she may have a reason to fear for her life?”
Heads swiveled back and forth indicating the negative amidst soberly mumbled “No’s” and “Not to me’s.”
“Out of curiosity,” I queried, “do you have any other former members, and have you had trouble with any of them getting involved in things they shouldn’t?”
“Not really,” Cally expressed. “At least I don’t think so.”
“You haven’t kicked anyone else out?” Ben posed.
“No,” she replied.
“How about members leaving of their own accord?” Felicity interjected. “Has that happened recently?”
“There was Stacey and Roger,” Shari piped up.
“And Will,” Jennifer added. “But they all left a few months ago.”
Ben noted the names with his quick scribbling. “Did they leave on good terms?”
“Pretty much so, I guess,” Randy, answered. “Will moved to Florida for his job, or I’m sure he’d still be with us.”
Nods of agreement circled the table at his comment.
“What about the other two?” I pressed. “Stacey and Roger was it?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “They just stopped showing up.”
“Ariel said Stacey was just a poser,” Cally explained. “Once she found out that she wasn’t going to learn how to cast a spell on her ex-boyfriend, she lost interest. We figured Roger was just there because of her, because as soon as she stopped coming, so did he.”
There was nothing unusual about having a poser enter and leave a coven. Some individuals would attempt to embrace the Wiccan religion based entirely upon their misconceptions about it. When they discovered that The Craft was about a harmonious existence with nature and NOT about “casting spells upon your enemies,” they would become almost instantly disenchanted. Just like the two individuals that had just been described, a poser would simply and harmlessly go away.
As if on cue, the end of Cally’s statement was punctuated by a quiet, evenly spaced, electronic beep that became increasingly louder with each pulse.
“Can I use your phone?” Ben asked me, switching off his pager.
“Sure,” I replied. “You want to use the one in the bedroom?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“You know where it is.”
The tension had ebbed once again, and Felicity took her seat at the table once more. The group started muttering apologies to one another, and faces were starting to break back into weak smiles.
“Hey, Rowan,” Ben called from the bedroom down the hall. “Can I talk to ya’ for a minute?”
I excused myself and made my way back to where he was. We spoke in hushed tones, and he explained to me what the phone call had been all about. After listening attentively to what he had to say, I called for Felicity to come back and join us. I heard her excuse herself and tell the group she would only be gone a moment, then seconds later she entered the room and shut the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” she whispered, leaning against the doorframe.
“Do you think you can take over here and get these kids to comprehend what it means for a Witch to cross over?” I asked her gravely. “I need to go with Ben.”
“Why?” She bolted up from her relaxed position. “What’s wrong?”
“That page was from my lieutenant,” Ben answered. “The Major Case Squad is taking over the investigation… Rowan was right, it looks like this psycho hit again.”