Ghost Witching

by Ally Shields

  Josh and Maggie had settled into a satisfactory working relationship. He came close to bringing up Boston. Several times. He hadn’t handled it right, and he owed her an explanation. But someone was always around, or he and Maggie were focused on the case. He didn’t want to jump in with some half-assed comment and make things worse. So he steered away from the personal…for now. Not to say there weren’t moments of heightened sexual awareness when they brushed against one another or simply got too close. He’d pretended not to notice every time Maggie reacted with a quick move away or intake of breath. But it was a start.

  By Friday, leads had grown thin. When Annie unexpectedly called the station mid-morning, Maggie put her on speaker.

  “I got him,” Annie said excitedly. “He tried to make another transfer, and I’ve been following his electronic signal as it bounced around the web. Getting his address from his provider was a bit tricky—uh, never mind. You don’t want to hear the details. But the hacker’s right here in New Orleans, using an Internet cafe. Oh, no. No. Hang on…” After those cryptic words, all they heard was the clicking of computer keys.

  Maggie frowned at the phone. “Annie? What’s wrong?”

  “Which cafe?” Josh demanded. “Maybe we can catch him.”

  “Annie?”

  “Give me a minute,” Annie said tensely.

  They heard more clicking of keys, then Annie swore, which she rarely did.

  “Now I know something’s wrong.” Maggie was on the edge of her seat. “Talk to me, girlfriend.”

  The clicking stopped. Annie came back on the line, her voice held shocked disbelief. “That prick hacked my firewall. I’ve locked him out again, but it may have been too late. He backtracked on me and pulled several packets.”

  “Plain English, Annie. What does that mean? Does he have your name and address?” Maggie’s voice was sharp.

  “It’s hard to say what he got, but I have to assume he has enough to eventually find out who I am.” She sounded disgusted now.

  “Then we take him down now. Where is he?” Josh stood and grabbed his Beretta from his desk drawer.

  Annie gave them the downtown address, and they ran out the door. Maggie kept Annie on speaker. “We’re on our way. Is he still connected?”

  In the time it took Annie to check and respond in the affirmative, Josh and Maggie were speeding across town in his unmarked car, and Maggie had called for backup. Josh was less than a block away when Annie exclaimed, “Lost him. He dropped off-line.”

  “OK. We’re almost there. I’ll get back to you.” Maggie disconnected.

  Josh turned the corner, stopped in the street, and flipped his flashers on. He and Maggie raced toward the building. Josh had his eyed fixed on the front door, but too many people were going in and out. Their hacker could be any of them.

  The coffee shop/Internet cafe was crowded, and about half the customers were on laptops, tablets, or other wireless devices at the tables and booths. Two hard-wired stations at the back were also busy. Since they didn’t know if the hacker was male or female, everyone was a suspect.

  He stopped in the doorway and held up his badge. “NOPD. We’re trying to locate someone. If you just remain seated, this won’t take long.”

  The crowd reacted with concern, curiosity, or irritation, depending on personal views regarding police activities, but a patrol unit arrived to back them up, and the additional manpower kept the complaints down. Josh went to the left, Maggie to the right, moving among the tables, looking for anybody they recognized or someone acting suspiciously. But what the hell was suspicious under these circumstances—short of trying to run or destroy their computer files?

  Noting a back exit near the restrooms, Josh opened the door into a narrow alley. No exit alarm. The hacker could have slipped out while they were coming in the front.

  He returned to the main room and located Maggie. She was unobtrusively snapping pics with her camera phone. When she looked his way, he gave a subtle head shake. She nodded once, acknowledging they were coming up empty.

  Josh raised his voice. “Sorry for the inconvenience, folks. Officers will be asking for your names and contact information in case we need to speak with you at a later date. If you observed anyone leave by the back door or anything suspicious just before we arrived, please let one of the officers know. We appreciate your cooperation.” He kept a smile on his face, hoping it would smooth over any ruffled tempers.

  Maggie moved to the order counter and caught the attention of the coffee barista, a young man with a rather bohemian look and a blond stubble. The guy’s expression was tense. Josh joined them in time to hear her ask, “Recognize anyone?”

  She held up her phone screen and scrolled through the photos of Sutter and Gordon they’d found on the web and a police sketch of Brice. The clerk shook his head. “What have they done? Are they armed?”

  “We’re after a hacker,” Maggie said. “Someone used your Wi-Fi for illegal activities within the last half hour.”

  “Oh, is that all.” Relief flooded his face. “Not that it’s good, but…well, I was scared somebody might shoot up the place or set off a bomb. Can I see those pics again?” He studied them this time. “No, sorry. I haven’t seen any of them. But I haven’t worked here long, and we’ve been so busy this morning. One of them could have been here, and I might not notice.” He made an apologetic quirk of his lips. “I’m not good with faces. Now if you told me how he took his coffee, I might remember that.”

  “Gotcha. Ok, thanks. It was worth a try. Sorry about the disruption.” She handed him her card. “Call me, if any of these people come in.”

  “Yeah, OK, I’ll do that.”

  As they walked away, Josh leaned toward Maggie’s ear. “You won’t hear from him.”

  “Probably not. All he cared about was if he was going to get robbed or killed. Cybercrime isn’t even on his radar.”

  With the help of the patrol officers, they quickly collected the customers’ names. One young couple thought someone had used the back exit, but they weren’t sure, and nothing else suspicious had been noted. Josh doubted the hacker was among the current crowd. He—or she—would have cleared out quickly.

  In fact, it was strange he’d stayed online as long as he had, as if taking the opportunity to mock them. A dangerous psychopath? Or a ballsy kid in it for the challenge…and not dangerous at all.

  As they reached Josh’s car, Maggie interrupted his thoughts. “I don’t like this guy possibly knowing who Annie is. His associates or employers are a scary bunch. Do you mind swinging by and checking on her?”

  “Not at all. How secure is her apartment? Extra locks?”

  “If she’s using them.” Maggie frowned and took out her phone. “We added new ones last winter when Harry was a target, but it won’t hurt to check them again. I’ll warn her he got away and we’re coming over.”

  Annie answered the door in cutoff jeans and a pink T-shirt inscribed with a warning: My next story could be you. “Hi, guys. How about coffee or a soda?” She headed straight for the kitchen area, and they followed. “I put on a fresh pot. It’ll be a long night, reworking my firewalls and hiding myself again. Damn, this guy was good.” She paused and gestured to the coffee mugs, but Maggie and Josh both turned her down.

  “We can’t stay,” Maggie explained. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right, and that you’ll be extra careful. The locks, the alarm. Be sure to use them.”

  “Yeah, sure. I will. Dang, I’m sorry you missed this guy. I wanted to meet him.”

  “Don’t be so intrigued by him,” Maggie said dryly. “Keep in mind he works for a satanic coven.”

  Annie quirked her mouth. “They wouldn’t come after me.”

  “Why not? You interfered with their plans, and we can’t predict how they’ll react. All I’m saying is don’t shrug this off.”

  “Sure, I’ll take care. But it’s a lot of work to get my name and location. I doubt if he’ll bother, but I’ll alert the manager and close
neighbors that I could have a stalker. They’ll tell me if anyone is hanging around.” Her mood brightened suddenly. “Harry can spend the night and protect me.”

  Josh refrained from commenting on Harry’s lack of self-defense training or mentioning that his brother had emptied a gun at an intruder last winter without once hitting him. But Harry would check the locks and alarms if he understood the stakes, and Josh would make sure he did.

  Maggie chuckled. “Oh, good excuse, girlfriend, but who’s going to protect Harry from you?”

  Annie batted her eyes. “What makes you think he wants to be protected?”

  Josh clapped his hands over his ears in mock protest. “No more. Please, no more. My little brother’s sex life is off-limits.”

  Annie chuckled and made a zipper gesture over her lips.

  Josh dropped his hands, still shaking his head. “It’s time we got back to the station. We have dozens of names and photos from the Internet cafe that need to be checked.”

  At the door, Maggie looked back and blew Annie a kiss. “Tell Harry hi.” As soon as the door closed, she put a hand on Josh’s arm. “I didn’t want her to panic, but do you think she’s in danger? I’m worried about her.”

  He pulled out his phone to call Harry. “Yeah, so am I.”

  * * *

  As promised, Annie alerted her manager and neighbors, but despite everyone’s fears, Annie’s life remained quiet, except for Maggie’s frequent calls. No unwanted visitors, no cyber attacks. To Maggie’s immense relief, the hacker made no attempt to retaliate against Annie—on or off-line.

  By late in the afternoon, Maggie and Josh had eliminated most of the names from the Internet cafe. The handful left was due to unavailable information. Nothing suspicious popped up anywhere. As expected, the cafe crowd was another dead lead. Annie still had an electronic monitor on the Witching Hour accounts, but there’d been no new intrusions, and Maggie doubted there would be. The hacker had gone underground.

  On Saturday afternoon, Maggie’s frustrations led her back to the station, where she set up a new murder board including the Gundermann, Shayre, and Preston murders, the shooting incident at Bunjer’s boat, and the attempted murder of Michaels. Off to the side she drew a circle for the Witching Hour Society and listed three categories: Takeover, Top Witch contest, and Thefts. She stepped back and studied what she’d done, finally drawing lines between proven connections: the three murders to the Top Witch contest, Bunjer to Gundermann, Michaels’s attack to the larger Society circle. The three murder victims were also linked to each other by their joint ghostly appearances to Maggie—proof enough for her and Josh—but hardly evidence for court.

  She tapped her foot impatiently, surveying the board again. Was the Society’s attempted takeover by the Satanists linked to the murders or not? As far as she could tell, Gundermann, Shayre, and Preston weren’t on the Society’s council or even members.

  So was the contest the real connection? Did someone want to be top witch badly enough they were knocking off other contestants? Stranger things had happened. But how did that explain the attack on Stephanie Michaels?

  “Frustrating, isn’t it?”

  Maggie jumped. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t heard Josh walk in. “I thought laying it all out might show me how they fit together. Instead I just see the holes. What brought you in on a Saturday?”

  “Same thing. I can’t stop thinking about it.” He walked over and added four notes at the top of the board—satanic coven, council members (including Gordon), Marvin Sutter, Duncan Brice. “Our current list of suspects,” he said, stepping back. “Not very promising…considering the coven members and most of the Council are unknown. And no one seems to have a motive that covers every event.”

  “Exactly what I thought. I’ve tried it with two separate killers or sets of killers or one group settling a series of grudges. None seem likely, but I can’t make sense of this any other way.”

  They went over the known facts again, firming the links, adding presumed links—the coven’s infiltration of the Society and the hacker’s activities—as dotted lines. The murder board became cluttered. So did Maggie’s thinking.

  She finally put both hands on the sides of her head. “This isn’t helping. I think I’ve fried my brain.”

  “It’s close to five. Why don’t I buy you a drink?”

  When she hesitated, thinking a soaking tub might be better for her threatening headache, she sensed his sudden tension and relented. They hadn’t yet settled the past, but they didn’t need any new misunderstandings. “Sure. Sounds good, but just one.” God knows she could use a little down time. And honestly, whose company did she enjoy more than Josh’s?

  He relaxed with a smile. “I’ll even give you a ride. I drove the truck.”

  They shoved the murder board behind their desks and headed out of the squad room. “Are you ever going to let me drive it?”

  “Maybe.”

  She shot him a glance. “Really?”

  “No.” He grinned and held the door for her as they exited the building. “Well, maybe someday.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Maggie settled into the truck’s soft seats and breathed the new leather scent that Josh managed to keep either through constant grooming or one of those aromatic oils. Nothing like a perfumed tree hung in his baby. She glanced at Josh’s sculptured features, his strong hands on the wheel, and wondered if they could somehow put things together tonight. If wishing could make it so, they were halfway there.

  They were stopped at a traffic light when her phone rang. Before she could answer, Josh’s went off too, and he pulled to the side of the road.

  “York,” she said. Her blood froze when dispatch said the bomb squad was en route to Annie’s apartment building.

  Josh swore, ending his own terse conversation, tore out into traffic, and raced across town. They pulled up behind temporary barriers a half block from Annie’s place and searched the crowd for their friends. Maggie ran to Annie and Harry as soon as she spotted them, while Josh moved toward the police lines, where bomb experts were controlling a small robot moving toward a basketball-size package on the building’s front steps.

  “Is everyone all right?” she demanded.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.” Annie threw her arms around Maggie. “The cops asked me all kinds of questions I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t want to get any of us in trouble.” She pulled back to see Maggie’s face. “Did the hacker do this? I never thought…”

  Maggie looked helplessly at Harry. “It’s a bomb?”

  He shrugged. “Unsure. We’ve got a package with Annie’s name on it. Somebody saw it sitting beside the door, told the manager, and he called Annie. When he heard she wasn’t expecting anything, he called 911.”

  Annie took up the story. “Since he’d been warned about a possible stalker, I don’t think he touched it. The police came up the back stairs, asked Harry and me if we knew what it was or who sent it, and then evacuated the building.” She hesitated. “They also asked about threats.”

  “Did you tell them about the hacker? They need to know.”

  “Well, yes. Are you sure that’s OK? I said I’d been helping you trace him, and he might have discovered my identity. I didn’t know what else to say.” Annie looked sheepish. “So I told them to talk to you and Josh.”

  “Smart decision.” Maggie turned around as Josh joined them. “What did they say?”

  “They don’t know much yet. I verified Annie had been doing some work for us and that they should take the threat seriously. They didn’t ask anything else, and I didn’t volunteer.”

  “It’s Jenson who’ll demand an explanation.” She turned and gave Annie another hug. “Thank God you’re safe.”

  At Josh’s urging, they moved closer to the men handling the robot and waited for the first situation report. After checking the robotic scan, the officer in charge turned and spotted Josh. “No explosives indicated. We’ll have someone in
a hazmat suit open it up.”

  “It could be critical evidence,” Maggie warned.

  The man’s eyes settled on her. “You must be Detective York.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  The guy’s mouth quirked. “Our man will be careful. We like evidence too, if we can keep it and our man intact.”

  Maggie noted the mild rebuke and refrained from further advice. They watched tensely while the bomb squad cop opened the package, preserving the duct tape and every scrap of torn paper. A white box with more duct tape emerged. While he slit the edges with a knife, Maggie held her breath.

  The lid came off with no explosion or fanfare. The cop visually inspected the contents, manipulated something inside, and finally raised a hand to signal it appeared non-hazardous. He pushed his face protector up and walked toward them. When he was close enough, he tilted the box so his commander and the detectives could view the contents.

  “Someone’s got a nasty sense of humor,” he said.

  Annie peered over Maggie’s shoulder. “What is that brittle stuff? Something like anthrax?”

  The box contained a small burlap bag, identical to the one Michaels had received, including the black ribbon. Maggie had been pretty sure the moment she saw the lid. Same box, same contents. “It’s chicken bones. Not dangerous, but it wasn’t intended as a joke.” She stopped there, aware of the listening crowd. They didn’t need to feed public curiosity with talk of witches and curses.

  The cop nodded, his eyes revealing he’d known what it was.

  Annie tugged on Maggie’s sleeve. “What are you not saying?”

  “Not out here.” Maggie’s pointed look successfully stopped her demands. “We’ll talk inside.”

  “We’re not staying here tonight,” Harry said. “She’s coming home with me.”

  “Then we’ll talk while she packs.”

  As soon as the CS techs took charge of the evidence, Maggie, Harry, Josh, and Annie went in the building’s back door and packed enough clothes for Annie to be away several days. While they worked, Maggie explained the occult significance of the bones and that a similar warning had been left for Stephanie Michaels.