Seeing Darkness

by Heather Graham

  Cindy came by again to check on him. “You doing okay?”

  “Great, thanks. Hey, will you and Matt do me a favor? Those friends who are due soon...make sure I get their tab.”

  “Of course.”

  “You two work really amazingly together,” Jon told her. “Are you long-time friends?”

  “Matt’s a great guy, but no, not a long time. I’m from Concord. He’s from the Plymouth area. I love working with him.” She lowered her voice. “Matt is definitely my favorite coworker. The other jerks, they think I should handle it all. One of them even said female bartenders can make more money, just showing a little...well, you know. I wanted to trounce him or tell my boss or...whatever. I need the job. I’m going back to school. I just wish Matt didn’t travel so much.”

  “He travels a lot?”

  “Oh, yeah, he’s an actor and takes jobs wherever he can. He never misses his shifts, but every time he has a few days he can put together with one of the other guys picking up his shifts, he takes off. Ah, still, I do love him! Not a sexist or mean bone in his body.”

  “Good to hear,” Jon said pleasantly.

  “Do you want a fresh bottle of near-beer to not actually drink?” she asked him, grinning.

  “Sure,” he told her.

  She smiled, replaced his bottle, and moved on.

  An older man Jon had talked to before came in, along with a little crowd he introduced as his nephews and nieces. Jon ordered drinks for them and they chatted easily, until someone brought up the murder, and one of the girls looked upset.

  “You knew Annie Hampton?” Jon asked her.

  “Best teacher ever. Oh, and please, don’t worry. I am twenty-one now,” the girl told him, indicating her beer. She offered her hand to him. “I had her a few years back. I’m Brittany.”

  “Jon,” he told her, taking her hand. “Do you know if she was seeing anyone? I heard she was dedicated to her students, and she didn’t have much time to go out, but she told friends she was seeing someone. She wouldn’t tell anyone who it was. Said she was seeing a mystery man.”

  Brittany shrugged. She didn’t seem curious that he was asking such specific questions. “She was dedicated. Best teacher possible. But everyone is human. I heard rumors about her seeing someone, too. I wondered if she was just making it up so people would leave her alone. But you know, maybe she was seeing someone who came and went and didn’t demand much of her time.”

  She hesitated, looking around as if assuring herself her uncle wasn’t listening. “I think she was seeing him just as a...um. A quickie. A booty call, you know? Or maybe she was into him, and he was just using her. Or he might have been married. And so she wouldn’t have introduced him to her family or friends. Not a BFF with benefits—an occasional acquaintance with benefits.”

  “Too bad. If this man stepped forward, he might be able to help.” As he spoke, Jon noted Dr. Sayers come in, accompanied by a group of friends. Or perhaps clients. They moved quickly to a booth in the back.

  “I hadn’t seen Miss Hampton in a while,” Brittany was saying. “My classmates under her are all out of school and haven’t seen much of her because we’re moving on with life. But maybe now we’re breathing a sigh of relief because the distance means we don’t have to feel the pain as much. Anyway...”

  She paused and looked over at her uncle, who was gesturing at her to get the check. “Uncle Jared! Hey, no, we don’t have a check—Jon picked up the bill.”

  Good old Uncle Jared slapped Jon on the back. Jon grinned and lifted his drink in a toast.

  Then the door opened again, and Kylie was there with her group—including the tour guide.

  Jon’s heart gave a little slam. He had been worried, even though the women had all been together on a busy Saturday night, surrounded by people. It was ridiculous, but he had been worried nonetheless. Corrine, Jenny, and Nancy were all attractive, filled with energy and blessed with young and lovely appearance.

  But there was something about Kylie.

  He wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Heads turned when she walked into a room.

  And that, he realized, was what made him uneasy. He wondered just what lay in the hearts and minds of those who watched her.

  And if anyone watching her suspected there might be something very special about her indeed.

  * * *

  It was a Saturday night, and the Cauldron was a busy place. It stayed open until 1:00 a.m., so their arrival at 10:30 meant they had plenty of time to enjoy the crowd and their newly acquired friends.

  Kylie spotted Jon the moment they arrived. He had changed into casual jeans and a gray flannel shirt, and appeared like any tourist. Although there was probably nothing he could do about his commanding presence, no matter what he wore. He was seated at the bar, surrounded by a group that included men and women, young and not so young.

  Watching him hold court, Kylie noted he had a great smile. He had the ability to charm. But she knew why he was there: he was probably still working. Maybe he was finding more pieces of the puzzle. Maybe she had even helped.

  Matt—minus his pirate apparel—was behind the bar, shirtsleeves rolled up, collar open, curly dark hair casually falling against his forehead. He was serving quickly alongside Cindy. While it was busy, the two of them worked smoothly and ably, engaging with their crowd.

  “Wow, our little gang is all here,” Jenny said quietly to Kylie. The two of them were a few steps behind the others.

  “I knew Jon would be here,” Kylie said.

  “Jon, eh?” Jenny teased. “Not Special Agent Dickson?”

  “We did just have dinner with him,” Kylie said.

  “We did. Yes, I’ll call him Jon now, too,” Jenny said. “But I wasn’t referring to Jon. Look. Over in the far corner.”

  Kylie swiveled.

  Dr. Sayers—also in casual dress, dark sweater and jeans, was at a table with friends. Two women and two men, all in their thirties. The tail end of a plate of appetizers was on the table before them along with a few empty pitchers of beer.

  “Do we say hello, or do we pretend we don’t see him? I guess it would be rude to interrupt. Let’s just head to the bar,” Jenny said.

  “Pretty crowded there,” Kylie noted.

  “Want to see if Special Agent Dickson will make room for you?” Jenny asked.

  Kylie didn’t have a chance to answer. Jon had risen, laughing and responding to something being said by Matt, but he was turning toward her and pointing down the bar. There was a section with a Reserved notice set on it.

  Jon reached them, shaking hands with Carl as Corrine introduced the two—not using Jon’s title, just his name.

  “You were in here last night, right, over at a table?” Carl asked politely.

  “Guilty as charged,” Jon said. “Nice to meet you. You do a great tour, I hear.”

  “I do!” Carl told him. “And there was some pressure on me, too, with these ladies. They know their stuff, but they’re here for a bachelorette party. No chance of getting really friendly with this crew—they’ll be moving on,” he warned Jon. “But they’re bright and sweet and I enjoy just looking at them and talking shop. They know as much about the place as I do.”

  “Well, I’m glad I bribed my way into holding some extra seats. The tour went well tonight?” he asked, ushering them over to the empty stools.

  Kylie’s friends made sure she was seated by Jon Dickson. “Told you he was into you,” Jenny whispered to her.

  Kylie could only hope they hadn’t made it too obvious.

  Nancy started right in asking Carl about himself. “So, you just fell in love with Salem and decided to stay?” She turned to look at Jon. “He’s originally from Missouri.”

  “I just talked for two hours. What about you ladies? Oh, yes, sorry, and you, too, Jon,” Carl said.

  “Sounds like your story
is more interesting,” Jon told him. “You came from far away and moved here and became a ghost guide?”

  “I think it’s one of the most interesting places in the country. Maybe the world,” Carl said. “I remember the first time I learned about the fact we had witches in the US—I was just a kid. I read about Laurie Cabot and how she became the Official Witch of Salem, and when I finally came here, it was so different from my hometown—cool shops, not the same chains you find everywhere.”

  “Are you Wiccan?” Kylie asked him.

  “No, but I have friends who are, and it’s just all about nature and good things, certainly not anything evil. The Puritans... Those suckers were pretty misguided, but if you’re ever out at night around here on some of the roads where the forests are dense... Well, you can kind of understand how they might have seen the devil in everything. There is a theory that the whole mess was over property disputes and petty arguments, but I think they let themselves believe it was all true. Some of them, anyway. Over in Europe, the belief in the devil and the fires of hell and pacts and imps and all that was way worse than here.”

  “I think you’re right,” Jon said. “The entire community was swept up in the frenzy, and those who suggested it would end if the girls were stopped or punished wound up accused themselves. But I don’t think so many people were truly so messed up they’d execute that many people over greed. Maybe because I don’t want to believe it. But we’re still like that, aren’t we? If we don’t like someone, it’s easier to believe bad behavior out of them.”

  “Jon is from Salem,” Kylie said.

  “Really,” Carl said, as if that was a cool bit of information. “Then you know all the stories. The witch trials are tragic history. So much more went on here.”

  Nancy laughed. “And you don’t ever get tired of it all?”

  “Oh, I do, but I love the real stories we get here. And I go other places. Great cities with great stories.” Carl shrugged. “I was into acting. Los Angeles just wasn’t giving me an income. I can be in all kinds of theatrical things here and make a living. And travel around when I want to.”

  Kylie glanced over at Jon; his face revealed nothing.

  The conversation turned to different places: Boston, New York, DC, and then Richmond.

  After a moment, Jon excused himself to use his phone. Kylie watched him walk toward the door, but then made a point of joining the conversation, which turned to Corrine’s wedding.

  She didn’t stare after Jon—she really didn’t. But she did look up a few minutes later.

  He had come back inside and was over at another table talking to someone. Kylie twisted around to see who was at the table.

  She was surprised to see it was Dr. Sayers.

  “Kylie?” Corrine said, giving her a nudge.

  “Um, yes, what? Sorry,” she said.

  “You love books, but hate Ouija boards, right?” Corrine said.

  “There are some really great boards in Salem,” Carl said.

  “Yes, I’ve seen some,” Kylie said. “And I don’t hate them. I just don’t want one.”

  The conversation went on. She wasn’t really paying any attention; she was too curious regarding the fact that Jon seemed to know Dr. Sayers.

  But in a minute, Jon was back. Smiling, chatting, casual. Just another visitor to a bar.

  The night wore on with him excusing himself now and then and making rounds. At one point, Kylie saw him talking to the bartenders. Everyone seemed to accept his mingling easily. After all, Jon was from Salem.

  She noted he’d picked up a matchbox, and he was tapping it absently on the table, conversing with the others, pleasant, and yet she couldn’t help but feel his mind wasn’t really there. Something was going on behind all his light banter.

  Corrine seemed to be having a good time, and Kylie was happy that her friend was having the weekend trip she’d wanted. But it came to a point where Kylie wanted to scream. It was growing late. She’d slept badly. She was tired.

  And yet, she was afraid to sleep again.

  She suddenly felt as if the bar was obnoxiously loud. She desperately needed to escape. The bar would close soon, but not soon enough for her.

  Jon took his seat beside her again, but even that didn’t ease whatever had started to plague her.

  She stood and yawned elaborately, then apologized. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to have to leave. Please, everyone else should stay. We’re only about three blocks from the hotel—”

  “I’ll walk you,” Jon said quickly, rising. “I’m ready to call it quits, too.”

  “I wouldn’t mind walking you back, either,” Carl said.

  “I didn’t want anyone else to have to leave,” Kylie protested. “This is Corrine’s big weekend and you should all have fun.”

  “Noise was getting to be a bit much for me,” Jon said. “Seriously, you four stay, I’m happy to get going. Oh, the tab’s taken care of. Whatever you order.”

  “Thank you! That’s not necessary,” Corrine told him.

  “My pleasure. Please, stay. Kylie will be fine with me,” Jon said. He took gentle hold of her elbow and led her toward the door.

  Dr. Sayers was still at the booth with his friends. He watched them go, nodding and lifting a hand as Kylie turned to look his way. He offered a weak smile.

  Outside, Kylie demanded, “How do you know Sayers?”

  “I went to see him.”

  She stared at him, stunned. “You were...regressed?”

  “No,” he admitted. “I went to ask about you.”

  “Is that even legal?” she demanded.

  “Kylie—”

  “You think I faked it?” she asked angrily.

  “No. I needed to see if he could explain what happened, if he’d led you where you went in your state,” Jon said. He stopped in the near-empty street and looked at her. “I believe you. I’m the one who asked for your help today, remember? I never thought you were making anything up. That’s obvious, I would think.”

  She was still for a minute. Then she asked, her voice barely a whisper, “Why? Why would you believe what I don’t even believe myself?”

  He stepped close to her, smiling. He touched her face gently, and then withdrew as if he had gone too far. “I’m with a supposed ‘elite’ unit of the criminal division. In truth, we’re the last-resort, desperate unit. I told you... I’ve seen things that shouldn’t be. Not by the laws of science as we know them now. I believe you because I pride myself on knowing people, and I think you’re honest and caring and have integrity. I saw Sayers because I needed to know what he felt, what he saw, and what he did.”

  He was quiet a minute. “I’ve thought about asking you about the possibility of going under again, to see if you can recall more, bring the vision any further. On the one hand, that’s not fair to you. I don’t want to make you go through all that again. On the other hand, if you’re strong enough to do it, you might save a life in the future.”

  He was so earnest. He spoke of caring and integrity, and she realized those were the qualities in him that seemed to draw her, along with the physical draw she felt. Especially standing this close. He smelled good, his scent both clean and musky, something that hinted of the earth and the woods and something compellingly male.

  And she liked him. Really liked him. More and more each time she saw him.

  Part of it seemed so wrong. A woman had been murdered. No, several women had been brutally murdered, and somehow she had witnessed a murder. No, she had felt and experienced a murder.

  “I’ll continue to do anything I can to help,” she said quietly. “But I’m not sure I can go through that again.”

  He surveyed her for a moment. He nodded. “Okay. Come on, let me get you back to the hotel.”

  They reached the hotel and right before going in, she found that she balked. “Is he staying here?”<
br />
  He didn’t ask her who.

  He knew who she meant. But still, she made sure. “The senator,” she said. “Michael Westerly. The man I saw during my regression.”

  Jon grimaced. “I just found out. I stepped outside because I had a call from my office about his movements. Yes, he’s staying here. But the thing is, we still have nothing concrete on him, and he’s using his wife as his alibi. But I don’t believe you need to check out of your hotel—he doesn’t know you and would have absolutely no idea you suspect him of anything.”

  “Or that I believe I saw him kill Annie Hampton in a dream.”

  “Right,” he said. “There’s no way he could know. I don’t think. I mean, no one knows about what you saw when you were hypnotized, right, except for me, Dr. Sayers, Nancy, Jenny, and Corrine?”

  “Correct.”

  “Well, let me walk you all the way up. I can hang out in the hall and watch your door until your friends come back.”

  She smiled. “It’s a suite. We have a little living room/kitchen combo thing. No need for you hang out in a hallway, but...yeah, if you want to stay until they get back, it would be super.”

  “Sitting on a sofa, standing in a hall... Sitting on a sofa does sound better. Let’s go.”

  She thought he was going to reach for her hand; maybe he had been about to. Apparently, he remembered they were on the trail of a murderer, following a most unusual path. He turned and walked with long, quick strides, and she kept pace.

  The hotel was quiet. Most people were probably sleeping or out enjoying their Saturday night.

  It was a little strange when he entered the room behind her. She was surprised to feel flustered. He was a man who would never press anything, and he might not even find her appealing. She had something he needed. And he intended to protect that by protecting her.

  Still, the air seemed charged when he was near. Now that they were alone together, she was a little alarmed to acknowledge just how attractive she found him.