“And you’re going to talk to him and find out if he’d be willing to accept this?”
“Yes. There’s a lot to promise him. When we catch Westerly, Matt will get tremendous publicity for helping in an incredibly important sting. He’s an actor who bartends—he’ll thrive on the publicity. He could get on a dozen talk shows. I think I can do it.”
“And as for Kylie?”
Jon let out another breath. “Well, it’s still frightening as hell—and there is no foolproof plan. But logistically, we would have every advantage. So long as we pull off Matt’s arrest convincingly. Kylie will slip at the Cauldron that she plans on visiting an out-of-the-way cemetery near here. And we’ll have that cemetery so laced with agents and cops that we can take him down before any harm is done to her.”
“What if he doesn’t offer her any harm?”
“We could fail. But I think we have to try.”
“Try what?” Devin came into the kitchen. Poe let out a squawk.
“Let’s wait for Rocky and Kylie and then go through this,” Jon said. “Then I’ll go see Ben and lay it all out for him.”
“Rocky’s awake. I’ll get him moving,” Devin said.
Kylie came into the kitchen, smiling and saying, “I smell coffee! Great.” She paused, looking from Jon to Jackson.
“We have a plan,” Jon told her.
“Oh?”
“We’re just waiting on Rocky.”
“Rocky is here,” he announced, appearing in the kitchen as well.
They were all assembled, and Jon outlined his plan.
“You really think that Matt will agree to this?” Rocky asked.
“I do. I’m going to dangle an incredible carrot—national celebrity,” Jon said.
“Bad publicity?” Rocky said doubtfully.
“Yes, at first. But so noble once it all comes out.”
“He’ll do it,” Kylie said. “I really think that Matt’s a good guy. Even if there are risks involved, I believe he’ll do it.”
“I have to see Ben, and then talk to Matt,” Jon said, finishing his coffee.
“I think that Rocky, Devin, Kylie, and I will head off to see Dr. Sayers,” Jackson said cheerfully.
“I have to say, I don’t believe in regression. That’s me. But hypnotism is possible,” Rocky said, “and though they claim no hypnotist can make anyone do what they wouldn’t do, the concept of that lack of control isn’t a good one.”
“That’s why we’re going together,” Jackson said. “So, let’s move!”
Kylie went back to her room for her purse. Jon followed her and pulled her into his arms.
“You’re okay with this?”
“Yes, definitely, yes. You’re okay with it?”
“No, but I don’t see anything ending here anytime soon. All we need is Matt on board with the plan.”
“I know he’ll agree.”
“Yeah. I’m on my way out to talk to him now. Until we have this down...stay with Jackson, okay? Jackson, Rocky, and Devin. Always, one of them, like glue.”
“I promise,” she told him.
He kissed her lips and then hurried out. He wanted to see Sandra Westerly about the threatening text message, and then a visit to Ben, and then Matt.
He had to hope that everything would come together.
Sixteen
The friendly receptionist greeted them cheerfully when Kylie entered Dr. Sayers’s office with Jackson, Rocky, and Devin.
“The doctor told me that I should be expecting you,” she said. “And your timing is perfect. He’s just finishing up a session. He’ll be right with you.”
Kylie introduced the others to the receptionist, who introduced herself as Cathy.
“Who is doing the regression?” Cathy asked.
“I am,” Jackson said.
“Wonderful!” she said. “While you’re waiting...coffee? Water? Tea?”
“Oh, we’re fine, we just had a big breakfast,” Devin said. “I can’t wait to see this... I’m tempted to try, but I want to see Jackson go through it first.”
“I’m a skeptic,” Rocky said.
“You won’t be when you leave,” Cathy assured them. “Just have a seat, and you’ll be in there in just a few.”
They sat. Kylie’s stomach tightened and she hoped no one heard it growl. Devin had lied. They hadn’t eaten—they’d filled up with coffee, determining to move quickly. They’d find someplace for a meal as soon as they finished Jackson’s “regression.”
They certainly weren’t going to have anything here.
In a minute, Dr. Sayers came out to the reception area, dressed in a handsome leisure suit. He smoothed back his unruly blond hair as he escorted his last client out.
“Thank you, thank you, it was wonderful,” the young woman was saying. “I knew that my family hailed from London, but being there in the 1800s... Oh, it was amazing. I’m sure that I’m one of my ancestors, living again! And to think—we do get more than one chance at this craziness we call life. I can’t thank you enough!”
“I’m delighted that it was a wonderful experience for you,” Dr. Sayers said.
“Oh, people are waiting,” the woman said, noting the foursome in the office. “It’s amazing,” she assured them.
Dr. Sayers looked at Kylie and grimaced behind the woman’s back. Kylie just smiled and said, “Thanks!” To the woman, who seemed to float as she walked out of the office.
“So, Mr. Crow—but it really is Special Agent Crow, isn’t it?” Dr. Sayers corrected himself. “After Jimmy’s accident and Matt helping the police and all the questioning, you do know that everyone in town—other than tourists—knows who you all are.”
“We are aware,” Jackson assured him.
“Well, come in, come in. You’re my first FBI agent,” Dr. Sayers said happily.
“We’re all coming, like when I did it with Corrine, Nancy, and Jenny, all right?” Kylie asked.
“Absolutely. There are no hidden lights or puppet strings,” Dr. Sayers assured them. “Come in, come in.”
He offered all of them his tea. “Chamomile, that’s all,” he assured them.
“We’re really fine,” Rocky said. “Big breakfast.”
That lie again. Kylie hoped her stomach would be quiet.
“So, Jackson, where are you most comfortable? People usually take the sofa and rest their heads on the pillow there. But you’re welcome to a chair, or, if it makes you happy, you’re even welcome to stand. Now, I begin the regression by counting backward, so choose your seat, and we’ll begin.”
“Well, if the sofa tends to be the place, I’ll take the sofa,” Jackson said. He arranged himself comfortably. He didn’t appear overly excited, but intrigued and ready for whatever the experience might be.
The others selected chairs nearby. Kylie noted that just as Jon had chosen to be very close to her head, Rocky did the same with Jackson. Ready to support his boss if needed.
“I’ll start at one hundred and go backward, slowly,” Dr. Sayers said. “You just need to listen to the sound of my voice as you count with me, and then it will seem distant, but my voice will be there, guiding you.”
They began to count together, and for a while, Kylie thought that nothing would happen. They got to seventy-five and Jackson was still in tandem with Dr. Sayers.
Then, he stopped counting, and Dr. Sayers continued softly, “You’re relaxed. You’re seeing where you are, who you are, you are relaxed and comfortable with your being...”
“The grass...” Jackson murmured.
“Yes?” Dr. Sayers leaned closer.
“Is green,” Jackson said. He did something with his hands in the air; with eyes closed, he smiled.
“It was a good time in life,” Dr. Sayers said.
“The grass...”
This time
, Dr. Sayers didn’t say anything.
Jackson spoke again. “So green. The sky is bright blue. The day is beautiful. And yet...human beings can be so ugly. So much beauty given...and rejected for the cruelty of man.”
Dr. Sayers seemed dumbfounded. Jackson suddenly appeared to be in distress, grabbing at his throat.
“Jackson!” Rocky snapped.
“Let me take him out—” Dr. Sayers began.
But he didn’t need to. Jackson swung to a sitting position, eyes open. He looked at Dr. Sayers and finally nodded appreciation. “Doctor, you have a talent.”
“Why, thank you...but what?”
“I’d love to keep the past to myself, Dr. Sayers, if you don’t mind,” Jackson said.
“I don’t know why, but people usually regress to a happy time in life,” the doctor said. “Kylie, of course, was different. And it did appear that you were in distress. I assure you, that is never the intent, and when someone is upset—”
“Not to worry, Dr. Sayers,” Jackson said. “Rocky’s voice brought me right out, and it was fine. We work closely together—always have one another’s backs. But still I’d like to mull over my experience, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, you’re the client. And I was delighted to have you here. Please, any of you, come back any time,” Dr. Sayers said weakly. “And, Kylie, you’re doing all right? Whatever his experience, Special Agent Crow seems to be just fine. You, on the other hand—”
“I’m doing very, very well,” Kylie assured him.
He beamed. “Of course. You are surrounded by our country’s finest, after all! Seriously, you are welcome here any time, and for those defending our nation, no charge, of course.”
“Dr. Sayers, it’s illegal for us to take advantage. But thank you,” Jackson said.
They shook hands, and Dr. Sayers opened the door to the reception area for them to leave.
Another group of young people—two women in their early twenties and a young man of about the same age—were waiting with cups of tea in hand.
After the new group moved into the doctor’s office, Devin spoke with the receptionist, who once again told them that there was no charge, and Devin explained that it would be unethical, if not illegal, for them to accept the service for free a second time. She finally managed to pay.
When they were back out on the street, Rocky, Devin, and Kylie all stared at Jackson, waiting for him to say what he would not while he was in the office.
“That was actually rather amazing. He is an able hypnotist,” Jackson said.
“You—you really were hypnotized?” Kylie asked. “I mean, I know I was, but...”
“There was a piece of me I held back,” Jackson said. “But I allowed a part of my mind to go where it would in such a situation.”
“Why did you become distressed?” Rocky asked.
“It was interesting. This is Salem, so easy enough to imagine that you were back in the midst of the witch trials. A part of me believed that I was John Proctor, the day before being hanged. That was the end. But there were other fleeting glimpses of something in there.”
“And what were those glimpses?” Kylie asked anxiously.
“A cemetery,” Jackson said. “A typical old cemetery. New England, somewhere. It must have been. There were crooked slate gravestones, a few aboveground tombs, a lot of trees, some newer graves. But none really recent.”
“Was anyone in the cemetery?” Devin asked.
“Just me. I could hear my breath, feel my heartbeat, as I moved through it,” Jackson said. “It was strange. At the same time, I was in a cart with other men and one woman. Someone said that it was ‘the year of our Lord, 1692, August 19.’ I knew others who were with me... George Burrows was one of them.
“I was looking at the sky, waiting for the drop in the noose and watching the sky while George said the Lord’s Prayer and Cotton Mather said that the devil could play tricks or something like that...and then I’d see the cemetery again.
“I don’t know the city the way the three of you do, but I know the crucial history of the witch trials. It was an easy enough route to take under suggestion,” he mused, “not that Sayers spoke about Salem and history, just that it’s where we are. As to the cemetery, I don’t know. It was just something I kept seeing.”
“So, now what?” Rocky asked.
“Lunch. I’m starving, as I imagine we all are. Then I’m going to find that cemetery.”
* * *
Jon’s first stop was to see Sandra Westerly.
It wasn’t a long stop, but it more or less confirmed the text had been a fake. It was from an unknown or blocked number, and had been signed—too obviously—“from Kylie Connelly.”
“I’m telling you, it’s very disturbing,” Sandra said.
He wasn’t a tech, but it seemed obvious that the message could have come from anyone.
He was careful to sympathize with her before moving on; he didn’t want his suspicion that Sandra had sent the text to herself known.
On to Ben Miller. And he wasn’t surprised by Ben’s initial comment to him.
“You believe that after everything we put him through, this man, Matt Hudson, is going to agree to your plan?” Ben asked Jon skeptically.
“I do. For a number of reasons,” Jon said.
“Okay, well... I’ll take part in your charade. But you do understand that we have nothing at all to bring him in on. We already dragged him in here once. I really need you to make sure that the man is completely on board with this.”
Jon nodded. “I just need to find him. He doesn’t start at the Cauldron until later in the day.”
“That’s easy enough. Officer Allen is with him. He’s in his living room as we speak. They’re watching a replay of a college game—they both happen to be basketball nuts. Whoever is watching him has to report to me on the hour, and the call just came in.”
“Great. I’ll go over,” Jon said. “Hate to interrupt a replay, though.”
“Thankfully, in this day and age, they can just put it on hold.”
“If he’s willing, we’ll put out a press release as soon as possible. A suspect charged in the killing of Annie Hampton.”
Ben nodded. “If he’s willing.”
“I have every confidence that he will be,” Jon said. Well, he spoke with confidence. He hoped that he—and Kylie—were right.
“You think this will really bring the killer out?” Ben asked.
“I think that we try this, or we have to hope that a clue will suddenly appear, or that the killer will come running in to unburden his soul and confess.”
Ben was silent a minute, then nodded. “Annie’s parents were in. They’re a mess. Her sister has come to be with her mother and is just about a basket case over this. Sure, go see Matt. Get him to agree. And pray that you’re right.”
Jon stood to leave.
“Hey, wait,” Ben said, keying something into his computer.
“Yeah?”
“Got the make and model on the tire tracks at Devin’s cottage.”
“Yes?”
“They fit an SUV, this year’s model, part of an upgrade package,” Ben told him, reading his email. He looked at Jon. “I know of one locally.”
“Yeah?”
Ben hesitated. “It belongs to Michael Westerly. He and Sandra have two cars—hers is a little Mustang, but it seems that they both drive the SUV everywhere. I wonder if they fight about who gets to use it when.”
Jon nodded slowly. “Thanks,” he said. “All right. I’m off to see Matt.”
Matt’s home wasn’t far from the historic district. Jon knew he was being watched from the minute he parked his car and walked up the little path. He didn’t get a chance to even knock at the door before it opened.
A young officer in plainclothes opened the door. “Jon Dic
kson?” he said.
Jon nodded, showing his credentials.
“Detective Miller said you were on your way. I’m Pete Allen,” the young man said. “Come on in. Matt is right there on the sofa.”
Matt’s place was comfortably furnished with an old plump leather couch and a few matching chairs. A television against the wall had a large screen; it was frozen on an image of a young man leaping toward the basket, the ball flying to score.
Matt stood, looking at him curiously. “Is there a break in the case?”
Jon took a deep breath. He looked over at Pete Allen.
“Okay, okay, I’ll, uh...be looking at the grass,” Pete Allen said, exiting the house.
“What the hell is going on?” Matt asked Jon.
“We want to arrest you for the murder of Annie Hampton,” Jon said.
“What—what the hell?” Matt repeated, incredulous.
“As a pretense. We know you didn’t kill her.”
“So, you’re going to arrest me for killing her although you know I didn’t? You’re going to let the world believe that I’m a vicious killer?”
“Let me explain—the downside and the upside.”
“Go ahead and try because all I’m seeing is a downside,” Matt told him.
Jon indicated that Matt should sit. And he went through his arguments—what might be if they achieved their goal. He was honest, stating again what they all knew. No plan was foolproof.
Matt listened, still appearing to be somewhat shocked.
Jon finished and awaited Matt’s answer.
* * *
They headed to Derby Street to find a lunch spot, opting for a place called Sunshine Café and Books, an establishment that made no mention of witches or any paranormal thing.
It was a pretty spot with a charming backyard patio. The lunch menu included almost anything anyone could want, from hot dogs to tacos to pasta. Jackson excused himself almost as soon as they were seated, asking Rocky just to order him sparkling water and a burger. A cheerful waiter quickly appeared, and they ordered, Devin taking care of ordering for the empty chair.
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