The Bewitching Hour

by Mallory Crowe

  Smith. At least she was a bad liar. That would make figuring out what parts of her story were BS and which parts were true easier to determine. “Okay, Claire Smith. What’s your date of birth?”

  “March twenty-fourth, 1997.”

  He noted down the date and tried to forget how old he was. “Okay. So why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me what happened.” He looked up, trying to judge her reaction. He had a lot of pointed questions he wanted to ask, but the best way to get people to open up was to start with open-ended questions. Sometimes the things they didn’t say told as much as the words.

  Claire was quiet and Derek didn’t push her. He wasn’t going to fill in the gaps in conversation. He’d wait until she was ready to speak.

  Eventually she started. “I don’t really know much. I was staying at St. Mary’s the night I was... I was taken. There was nothing out of the ordinary or suspicious. I kept thinking about what I could’ve done differently or what I could’ve done to stop him, but I don’t even know what happened.”

  She paused again and Derek made some notes on his pad, waiting for her to continue.

  “It was early morning and I couldn’t stay at the shelter any longer so I got all my stuff together. It was cold so I ducked into a fast-food place to keep warm. I got a glass of water, but I was next to it the entire time so I don’t think anyone slipped anything into the drink. After about half an hour, the manager said I had to leave and I collected my things, walked outside and then— And then nothing. I didn’t see anyone. I don’t remember that chemical thing they put over your mouth—what’s it called?”

  “Chloroform.”

  “Yeah, there was nothing like that.”

  “If you were drugged, there’s a chance it would result in some memory loss. I want you to keep on thinking back to that moment. You might recall or even dream some detail that’s missing.”

  Claire nodded and he could see her reverting back into herself.

  “What happened after that?”

  “The rest is... a blur. I was in that apartment and was going in and out of awareness the whole time. I pretended I was asleep any time I was awake. It was so uncomfortable I actually wanted to go back to sleep. The next thing I knew, I woke up here. That’s really all that happened. I wish I could tell you more, but I really wasn’t awake for most of it.”

  Derek nodded. “That’s understandable.” He didn’t believe it one bit, but he knew this was a delicate process. So many witnesses he talked to started off the conversation by saying they didn’t know anything. Sometimes it was because of fear of repercussions; sometimes it was because they honestly didn’t think they saw anything. It was his job to get them to open up some way.

  “Did you see the man who held you?”

  Fear flashed over her face, but it was gone in a second. “No. Like I said, I was mostly unconscious or pretending I was.”

  Except everyone opened their eyes eventually. “He’s dead now, Claire. You can tell me.”

  “I—I looked once. I might’ve been imagining things or dreaming, I don’t know. But I peeked as he was walking by and I saw....”

  She broke off and Derek held his breath, waiting for her to continue.

  “What I saw wasn’t human. It was like the black silhouette of a person flashing in and out. But I knew it was the man who took me because, I know this sounds crazy, but I could just feel the malice coming from him. A darkness. It must’ve been a nightmare, but it felt so real. I know that won’t help you at all, but that’s what I saw.”

  Derek shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all. Every little bit helps.” Normally he would write that bit of information off as a fear-induced hallucination or dream, but he thought back to Sam. When she’d been lying in the dirt of the garden and screaming her head off. What had she said she’d seen? Darkness. The same word. Could be a coincidence, but he didn’t believe in coincidences when it came to murder. “Do you remember if there was more than—”

  He broke off as the door to the hospital room swung open. Two men in black suits walked in. His first thought was FBI, but the suits weren’t wrinkled and, from the looks of it, they cost a hell of a lot more than the ones he got at the budget department store. In other words, more than anyone on a government salary could afford. Derek stood and grabbed his wallet so he could flash his badge. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

  The men glanced at each other and back to Derek. They were both big guys. If the point was to be intimidating, they probably were effective with almost anyone else. Except Derek was the same size and he wasn’t about to be chased away from his witness.

  Both men had short buzz cuts and clean shaven faces. The only difference between them was that one had a small scar on his upper left cheekbone and blue eyes while the other drone had brown eyes. “We need to talk to the girl,” said Scarface.

  Derek nodded skeptically. “That’s not going to happen. If you think you know her, you can talk to the officer outside and he’ll direct you to the right channels.”

  Brown Eyes smiled. “There isn’t an officer outside the door. He went home for the day.”

  Before Derek could call bullshit, Scarface said, “And it’s time for you to go home too.”

  Derek outright laughed at the claim, but he stopped as he felt a familiar warmth in his pocket. The turtle. The turtle he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about. “I’m not going anywhere. Now you two can either turn around on your own or you can be taken out of here in cuffs. It’s your call.”

  “Derek,” said Claire softly.

  He held out a hand to her. “It’s going to be fine,” he promised. “We’ll sort this out.”

  “Seriously, buddy,” said Brown Eyes. “It’s time for you to go.”

  The turtle burned hotter in his pocket and Derek had to force himself not to adjust it. Instead of fighting with the two strangers any longer, Derek pulled out his phone and entered the speed dial for dispatch. “Hey, it’s Pierce here. I need backup to the hospital to the Jane Doe’s room from the Collins’s case. I have two suspicious men in suits here—” Scarface snatched the phone out of his hand and threw it against the wall. “There’s a problem—” Scarface never had a chance to finish as Derek got a hold of his wrist and twisted it painfully behind his back until the bones were just on the edge of breaking.

  Brown Eyes ran to his buddy’s defense, but Derek gave him a warning look. “Take one more step and I break his arm.” It was a gamble. There was a chance the two hated each other and he wouldn’t care one way or another whether Scarface broke a few bones.

  Luckily his bet paid off as Brown Eyes backed off, holding up his hands. “Who are you?”

  He used his free hand to awkwardly reach behind him to where the handcuffs were attached to his belt. “I’m the cop you just assaulted. Now you want to tell me who—”

  Scarface kicked out and Derek jerked his arm back as he caught his balance. He could feel the man’s shoulder dislocate as he fell, but the ballsy move was worth it because Scarface got loose, and in seconds, he and Brown Eyes slipped out the door and down the hall.

  Derek followed them a few steps out the door but stopped as they turned the corner. They weren’t kidding. The officer who was supposed to be posted at the door was gone, and now he had to choose between leaving Claire alone or letting the two guys get away.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. There really wasn’t a choice. Claire had to be his number-one priority. He strode back into the room and glanced to Claire, who was starting to get out of her bed.

  “I’m here,” he assured her as he picked up his phone from the ground.

  “What was that? We need to get out of here.”

  “You’re still dehydrated and the doctors don’t know the full effect of whatever drugs they used to put you out. I’m going to get more officers at your door and we’ll make sure those two never come back.”

  Claire didn’t seem convinced, but she slowly sat back on the bed. “You weren’t afr
aid?”

  Derek frowned at the cracked screen, but the phone came on without any issue. “Afraid? No. I just reacted.”

  “It must be nice to know how to react. How to fight. If you weren’t here, I would’ve—”

  “I was here. And trust me, fear serves a very real purpose.” He was just too pissed off at the balls on those two to let fear even creep in. They’d given him orders and just expected him to follow. He thought back to last night. Abigail Harris had barked orders at him too. Based off Captain Voss’s turnaround and the fact that the officer posted as a guard at the hospital was gone, it seemed as if he was the only one questioning anything these days.

  He subconsciously fingered the small jade turtle necklace in his pocket. It had warmed up last night and when those guys were around. No. There had to be some better explanation than some sort of hoodoo.

  He called the precinct back and gave them a quick, abbreviated version of what happened, and ordered more uniforms on site immediately. Except if they did whatever these guys in suits said, how many uniforms would it really take to protect this girl? As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. It was Captain Voss.

  “Sir, I’m assuming you heard what happened?”

  “I heard. What are you even doing down at the hospital?”

  He frowned and turned away from Claire so she couldn’t see him. “I was interviewing the survivor.”

  “What for? Collins is dead. Case is closed. We can’t have one of our best detectives and half of our street guys on one girl who isn’t even a witness anymore.”

  “Sir, I—”

  “No. I want you back here immediately.” The captain hung up.

  Derek winced. Just like Sam said. He was being cut off. Now there was a terrified woman listening to every word who he was supposed to leave alone and defenseless. “All right, sir,” he said to the blank phone. “I’ll see if they have any extra hands to come to the hospital.” He hung up the phone and dialed the neighboring precinct. He knew enough of the dispatch and detectives over there that it was easy to get through and put in a request for some men to get to the hospital. There would be hell to pay later, but he wasn’t leaving Claire alone.

  He hung up the phone and turned back to Claire. “We should have backup here any minute.” The mystery guys would be long gone by then. One more thing to add to the list of shit he’d have to deal with later.

  Claire was back under the covers, holding her knees to her chest. Her cheek rested on one kneecap and she stared at him pensively. “Who were those guys?”

  He’d been hoping to ask her the same question. “Honestly? I have no clue.”

  Sam stared at her excessive collection of lipstick. This was much too delicate of a situation, and she needed to make sure that her presentation was on point. So she could do a soft pink to appear non-threatening. Or she could go for a dark red for confidence and strength. She knew exactly what she’d done when shooting Tommy, and he deserved it.

  A wave of nausea came over her at the memory of the shooting and she picked up the red lipstick. She needed as much strength as possible. Especially considering she didn’t think she was justified in what she’d done. Tommy had played her perfectly.... His last act of malice. He knew if the families found out what he was doing, he’d be dead. Now that he’d gotten her to shoot him, there was a very real possibility that she was going to die right along with him.

  After she finished applying the lipstick, she pulled on her knee-high flat black boots and her blue leather jacket and slipped the lipstick into her pocket. No point doing a bold look if she wasn’t going to re-apply.

  When she’d first decided she wanted to get her own place, Abigail had made sure that her apartment was in a decent area, but Sam had insisted that she buy it on her own. On her own meaning it came out of her trust fund, but at least she hadn’t required another check from her mother. However, her grandmother had no such stipulations about price. She lived in the penthouse of one of the most prestigious buildings of the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

  At this time of day, it was a fifteen-minute drive from her apartment in Queens to her grandmother’s place. That seemed much too close. She needed time to think over what she was going to say. The many ways she could plead for her life.

  She had the benefit of being Claudia’s granddaughter. That would win some points. But what if she decided to make an example out of her? Prove a point that family members received no mercy?

  She took a deep breath and gave herself one more once-over in the mirror. Be strong, she told herself. It would probably help that she was going to talk to Claudia before she came looking for her. Cooperating with the investigation, she supposed.

  Once she couldn’t think of any more excuses to dawdle around her apartment, she finally picked up her keys and left. She left her gun at home. If she showed up with a weapon, someone would just take it away from her.

  The only thing they couldn’t take away from her were her powers, which were now freshly energized. Between Jackson’s visit last night and the incident with Tommy, she was flush with a newfound energy. She was a hope for the best, prepare for the worst kind of person. Sure, if Claudia decided to take out Sam, she wouldn’t stand much of a chance, but at least she could try.

  Abigail had arranged for someone to bring her car back from Tommy’s and it was parked in front of her building in a spot that was normally never open. She didn’t want to think about whether it was luck or something supernatural that allowed for the open space.

  Normally she would have her music of the moment blaring, but she never touched the radio. She tried to center herself and focus on the story she was going to tell her grandmother. Her story was the truth, of course, but she would emphasize how dangerous Tommy was, the fact that he had a captive at his apartment at the time, and that he was in the middle of some sort of magical ritual.

  She repeated the story to herself three full times by the time she reached the parking structure for her grandmother’s building. Then, after taking another five minutes to go through the story once more and check her makeup three different times, she stopped procrastinating and got out of the car.

  One foot in front of the other, she made her way to the street and to the entrance to her grandmother’s building. At the door stood two men in suits. To the normal passerby, they’d think the men were just doormen, but Sam knew better. The suits were too expensive and tailored to perfection. That combined with their severe haircuts and the exact same style of sunglasses told Sam they were sentries.

  She stopped and nodded at them. “I’m Samantha Harris. I’m here to see Claudia.” They stared at her blankly for a moment. “My grandmother,” she added to emphasize that she wasn’t just a random Harris stopping by.

  Because they were wearing sunglasses, it was impossible to read their expressions, but it was obvious that they weren’t rushing to open the door for her.

  “Claudia has a full schedule today,” said the one on the right.

  Well... yeah. Every day was a full schedule for her. “She’s going to want to see me. I’ll just go—” As she started to step past them, they moved to physically block the door.

  “Claudia has a full schedule today.” This time, the one on the left spoke.

  Sam narrowed her eyes. “I killed Tommy Collins yesterday. I’m sure Claudia will move her schedule around to deal with me. Now let me pass.”

  Neither moved. “Claudia is aware of Tommy Collins’s unfortunate suicide yesterday,” said the one on the right.

  Her eyes widened. “Suicide?”

  “Word has traveled fast,” said Lefty.

  “He shot himself six times?”

  “It was very tragic,” said Righty.

  She took a step back. Something was happening. If the sentries were keeping this from Claudia, that meant they knew what Tommy was doing. “Claudia is going to find out. Enough people know what happened that—”

  Lefty didn’t bat an eyelash. “Everyone will know that he killed him
self.”

  But Derek would know the truth. And the girl who was there.... The girl at the hospital with Derek. What would the sentries do when they realized their magic didn’t work on him? Damn it....

  “When Claudia finds out about this, it will be your heads rolling,” she warned as she backed away. Once she was on the sidewalk, she started to jog back to her car. As she ran, she tried to remember where Derek said he was going.... Something with a B... Bellevue Hospital!

  Once she was in the car, she pulled out her phone and dialed Derek while she navigated out of the parking garage. She managed to avoid hitting anyone or any cars, but Derek wasn’t answering.

  She cursed under her breath as she broke every traffic law possible as she sped to the hospital. The only reason she didn’t park illegally was because there happened to be a spot open right in front of the hospital. Well, considering she didn’t take time to pay the meter, maybe it was illegal....

  The first thing she noticed when she walked into the lobby of the hospital was the uniformed policeman walking away from the reception desk and past her. Was he going to where Derek was? To the victim’s room?

  If she were stronger, if she’d bothered to practice at all over the past few years, she could make the officer tell her where he was going. For now she would have to settle for following him.

  She acted as if she belonged as she tried to stay a good distance behind the man. When he got into the elevator, she kept her calm, as though it was just a coincidence.

  Though the officer didn’t seem to notice her at all. She wasn’t sure whether that meant she was doing the whole following someone right or whether he just wasn’t suspicious of being followed.

  Once the elevator doors opened, he navigated the turns as though he knew where he was going. She had to rapidly readjust her plan when she turned another corner and saw a whole collection of cops in uniform standing in front of one of the hospital rooms.

  Her walk wavered, but she kept going, discreetly looking into the room the cops stood in front of. Empty. No Derek and no patient. She tried to hide her panic as she continued down the hall. She dialed Derek one more time, but his phone just rang and rang until the voicemail picked up. “Call me back as soon as you get this.” She turned a corner and a nurse gave her a stern look.