The Witch Is Dead

by Shirley Damsgaard

  Thirty-One

  When we pulled into the driveway twenty minutes later, Ethan faced me. “Do you have the slightest idea what you’ll ask him?”

  I shrugged. “I thought I’d wing it.”

  “Winging it is never good,” he said with apprehension.

  “It’s all I’ve got,” I said while getting out of the car.

  Ethan hung back in the driveway as I rang Christopher’s doorbell.

  No answer.

  I waited a couple of minutes and rang again.

  Cupping my hands to the side of my face, I peered in the frosted glass door and thought I saw a shadow cross the room toward the back of the house.

  I put my finger on the button and held it down.

  From inside the house I heard the padding of bare feet across his tiled entry. In a moment the door opened.

  “Ophelia,” Christopher said with surprise. “How nice to see you.”

  As he stood in the doorway, one hand rested on the door, holding it open only a few inches. He didn’t invite me in.

  “May I talk to you?” I peeked over his shoulder. “Inside,” I said pointedly.

  With a sigh, he swung the door wider. “Of course, come in.” His eyes traveled from me to Ethan.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, stretching an arm toward Ethan. “This is my friend, Ethan, ah…” I clamped my mouth shut.

  Dang. Ethan had never told me his last name.

  Ethan quickly stepped up behind me. “Clement,” he said, reaching out and shaking Christopher’s hand. “Ethan Clement.”

  Christopher motioned us into the house.

  “May I get you anything?” he asked graciously when we were inside. “Wine? No, you prefer beer, don’t you, Ophelia?”

  “No, thank you,” I replied, following him to the living room.

  “You, Ethan?” he asked over his shoulder.

  Ethan responded with a slight shake of his head.

  Christopher strolled over to an upholstered club chair and sat. With a wave of his hand, he pointed to the couch. “Please.”

  Ethan took a seat on the couch while I remained standing, my eyes surveying the room as I gathered my thoughts.

  The room looked different in daylight, no longer a stage set for seduction. Or was it? Two empty wineglasses were placed side by side on the coffee table. One of them was marked with bright red lipstick.

  Ethan caught my eye and gave an imperceptible nod.

  Christopher eased back in his chair and crossed his legs at his ankles. He watched me expectantly. “What can I do for you, Ophelia? Is this visit about your aunt? If so, my office hours—”

  “When was the last time you saw Silas Green?” I blurted out.

  “Silas Green?” He cast a perplexed glance at Ethan.

  “The owner of Green’s Crematorium.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “I barely know him.”

  “You know him well enough to buy tissue and body parts from him for your biomedical supply business,” I said.

  “We don’t ‘buy’ tissue.” A self-satisfied smile chased the shadow away.

  His attitude annoyed me.

  “No, you pay fees for harvesting, don’t you?”

  “A nominal amount.”

  Annoyance shifted to irritation.

  “And you do business with Silas…Where is he?”

  “I don’t know why you would presume that I know anything about Silas. We deal with several crematoriums and funeral homes,” he replied smugly. “And I don’t personally handle shipments from any of them. I employ people to handle the details for me.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest as I felt my irritation turn to anger. “What about yesterday? Silas dropped off two coolers while you were at the biomedical office.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Christopher studied his well-manicured hands.

  Jeez, what a liar. And he’s blowing me off.

  “Really?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Aunt Dot, Darci, and I saw you.”

  He made a sound in the back of his throat. “Ophelia, I know things didn’t work out between us, but you’re mistaken.” Facing Ethan, he spread his hands wide and gave Ethan a helpless shrug.

  I thought of Tink, alone somewhere, being held against her will. His silent appeal to Ethan caused my anger to flare even hotter.

  I marched over until I stood right over him. “My daughter is missing. Silas Green is involved, and you’re involved with Silas.”

  Christopher looked again to Ethan for help with the crazy woman standing over him—me. The strain of the past few days tipped me over the edge.

  “Don’t know anything, huh? Well, maybe you’ll start remembering. Any minute now your lucrative, little black market body part business is going to blow up in your face.”

  Ethan’s groan penetrated my anger.

  So much for finesse.

  Christopher surged to his feet. “How dare you attack my professional reputation? Who do you think you are?” He stood toe-to-toe with me. “I took pity on you that night at the Marriott. You were so out of your league.” He rolled his eyes. “If I wouldn’t have run into you at Buchanan’s funeral, I never would’ve asked you for a date.”

  “Pity?” I spluttered. “Was that before or after you tried to sleep with me?”

  In the background, Ethan choked.

  “You can’t stand rejection can you? Now you’re trying to get even by slandering me.” He leaned forward, right in my face.

  I never saw Ethan move, but the next thing I knew, Christopher stumbled backward and landed in the chair. With a practiced move, Ethan nonchalantly brushed aside the front of his jacket. It gave Christopher a brief look at the holster and gun Ethan wore underneath it.

  Christopher’s face lost its color. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I told you, Ethan Clement, but I did forget to mention I’m a DEA agent.” Ethan’s lips formed a cold smile. “Maybe you’d like to answer some questions now?”

  “DEA? Drugs? I don’t know anything about any drugs.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” Ethan turned to me. “Why don’t you sit on the couch, Ophelia? I think Dr. Mason is willing to talk to us, aren’t you, Dr. Mason?”

  Christopher nodded.

  Ethan joined me on the couch and withdrew a pad and a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket.

  It gave Christopher another peek at his gun.

  Ethan leaned forward and let his hands dangle loosely on his knees. “I’m here in an unofficial capacity, but I’ve volunteered to help Ms. Jensen find her daughter. As she told you, we believe Silas is implicated.”

  Christopher regained some of his composure during Ethan’s explanation. “Of course, I’ll cooperate, but my name must be kept out of the media. I have my reputation to protect.”

  Ethan tugged on his lower lip. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll pass your request on to Sheriff Wilson.” He flipped open his notebook. “About your business dealings with Silas? He’s required to provide you with copies of the death certificates for all those who donate tissue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Copies of the family consent forms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you ever follow up with the families?”

  Christopher looked perplexed. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you ever contact the families listed on those forms?”

  “No, it’s not required.”

  “It is required to provide blood samples from the tissue donors, isn’t it?”

  Christopher’s gaze slid away from Ethan. “Yes.”

  “Can you account for your time the night Raymond Buchanan died?”

  “I was occupied.” Christopher squirmed uneasily in his chair.

  Ethan scowled. “Can you be more specific?”

  “Are you prepared to charge me with something?” Christopher sat forward. “Maybe I need my attorney present?”

  “If you’d prefer, Dr. Mason. Right now this is just a friendly conversation,
but we could finish it at the courthouse,” Ethan countered as he tapped his pen on his knee. He pursed his lips. “But after the discovery we made this morning, the media is probably camped out on the steps by now.”

  “Discovery?”

  “Humph, maybe you haven’t heard the news reports.” He tapped his pen faster. “Silas got lazy and stopped cremating bodies. We found…” He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I think last count was forty at one place and—”

  “Oh, God.” Christopher covered his face with his hands. “That idiot,” he muttered.

  Ethan fixed his gaze on Christopher. “Did you know about the bodies?”

  “No, I swear.” Christopher lowered his hands. “I never went to the crematorium. Silas would deliver the tissue and the forms. I had no reason to suspect he was doing anything illegal.”

  “Gee, Christopher,” I said, hooking an arm over the back of the couch. “I’d have thought the Wite-Out on the forms would have been a clue.”

  Ethan touched my arm lightly to silence me. His sleet gray eyes drilled Christopher. “We have a young girl missing, a man’s dead, and I can assure you there’ll be a full investigation into both the crematorium and your biomedical supply business.”

  Christopher passed a hand over his eyes. “I’m ruined.”

  I watched him with disgust. Tink had been kidnapped, Buchanan murdered, Silas had defiled bodies, and all he cared about was himself. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought him attractive.

  Before I could express my thoughts, someone called from the other side of the room: “I’m innocent.”

  I turned to see Mrs. Buchanan in the doorway. She stared at us with wild-eyed fear, her hand resting on the wall.

  She crossed the room and pointed at Christopher. “I didn’t know what he was doing.”

  A gold heart on a thin chain dangled from her wrist. Tink’s bracelet.

  Ethan made a grab for me as I flew at her, but he missed. Clutching her shoulders, I shook her until her head bobbled like a rag doll’s.

  “Where did you get that bracelet?” I snarled.

  She slapped at me, but I didn’t feel the blows landing.

  “Let go!” she screamed.

  My fingers dug into her flesh and my hair flopped in my face as I jerked her back and forth.

  “Ophelia!” Ethan’s voiced sounded through the haze of my rage.

  An arm shot around my waist and hauled me off my feet. Spinning me, Ethan set me behind him and away from Mrs. Buchanan.

  I shoved at his solid body as I stretched my arm past him to claw at the widow.

  Christopher now stood next to her, and he threw a comforting arm over her shoulders, drawing her away. “Barbara—”

  She moved away from him with a flounce. “This is all your fault.”

  I tried to dodge Ethan, but he blocked me, then whirled on me and firmly gripped my upper arm. “Knock it off unless you want to face assault charges.”

  With a shaking hand, I lifted the hair out of my face.

  “She has Tink’s bracelet,” I said, my voice trembling.

  “This?” she mocked, and held up her wrist. Ripping the bracelet off, she threw it on the coffee table. “Kevin gave it to me.”

  Christopher looked stunned. “Barbara? Why would Kevin give—” The light of realization dawned in his eyes and he sank to the couch.

  Ethan unclipped his cell phone and quickly pressed the buttons. “Bill, send a car to Dr. Christopher Mason’s house.”

  He gave Bill the address.

  “Mrs. Buchanan is here, too. I think you’ll want to talk to them.” He held the phone away from his ear as Bill shouted on the other end, then added, “And Bill? Pick up Kevin Roth.”

  Thirty-Two

  We waited until the patrol car arrived at Christopher’s.

  Back in Ethan’s car, I buckled up and glanced at him.

  “What was the deal with flashing your gun?”

  “Achieved the desired effect, didn’t it?” He kept his focus on the patrol car ahead.

  “Yes, but I thought you said you weren’t a cop today?”

  “Honey, I’m always a cop. And you came this close…” He held up two fingers, an inch apart. “…to me arresting you.”

  His eyes slid in my direction as he prepared to deliver his lecture concerning my behavior, but one look at my face stopped him.

  He clamped his mouth shut with effort, and we followed the deputy to the courthouse in Aiken without speaking.

  TV vans filled the street in front of the old limestone courthouse. In order to avoid them, we pulled into the parking lot behind the building and entered that way.

  As we came in the back door, we saw Bill standing at the end of the long hallway. He noticed us, his feet set apart in a pugnacious stance, and bowed his head, giving it a long shake.

  My steps faltered as I felt a little shudder go through me. Bill might have yelled at me in the past, but I had a feeling those exchanges would pale in comparison to what he’d say to me today.

  I was wrong. His anger wasn’t focused on me, but on Ethan.

  “I’d ask what in hell you thought you were doing taking her to Mason’s,” he said, “but I don’t have time now.” He raked Ethan up and down. “The media’s gathering like vultures, and I have to get control of the situation.”

  “She would have gone with or without me,” Ethan replied in his defense.

  Bill rubbed his head. “You think I don’t know that?” He shoved a finger in my direction. “With her, I expect trouble. But you’re a cop. You’re supposed to know how to handle people like her.”

  Ethan snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  I would have pointed out that I was standing right there and they didn’t need to talk about me as if I were invisible. But in this case, maybe invisible wasn’t such a bad thing.

  “Did you pick up Kevin Roth?” Ethan asked, changing the subject.

  “Yeah.”

  “According to Mrs. Buchanan, he had Tink’s bracelet. Can you use that to get a search warrant for the funeral home, for his apartment?”

  Bill held up a hand. “He claims Silas gave him the bracelet to pawn.”

  “See,” I said, tugging on Ethan’s sleeve. “I told you Silas was involved in Tink’s disappearance.” I turned to Bill. “Have you found Silas yet?”

  “No,” he said shortly.

  “Can I come in for Kevin’s questioning?”

  “No,” Bill and Ethan said at the same time.

  “I’ve called Darci,” Bill said. “She’s on her way to pick you up. You’re going home, and you’re going to stay there.”

  “But Bill—” I pleaded.

  He cut me off. “You heard me.”

  I jammed my hands on my hips. “I’m not leaving. This is a public place. I can be here if I want—”

  Bill took a step toward me. “Ophelia,” he growled.

  “Ethan? Please?”

  “Ah, let her stay, Bill. Her daughter’s missing, and those three”—he motioned to the door behind him—“might be able to shed some light on the case.”

  Bill eyed me with uncertainty.

  “You won’t cause any trouble, will you, Ophelia?” Ethan asked, pressing the advantage.

  “I swear.” I motioned to the bench opposite the door. “I’ll sit there, quiet as can be.”

  “Humph.” Bill’s face softened. “If you so much as move—”

  A deputy running down the hall interrupted him. “Bill, we’ve found a body at the crematorium.”

  “Dumped?”

  “No, this one’s in the oven Silas uses.”

  Bill’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Maybe Silas was trying to catch up on his work.”

  The deputy shrugged. “The M.E.’s on his way to Green’s to check it out.”

  Bill gave him a curt nod and pointed to the door. “I’ll be in there. I want the reports as they come in.” He looked at me. “You plant your butt on that bench and don’t you dare move.”

  “Yes
, sir,” I replied, and crossed to the bench.

  Ethan and Bill disappeared into the room holding Kevin Roth.

  The minutes ticked by as I stared at the closed door. How long did it take to sweat the information out of him? I had to fight the urge to bust into the room and demand what he knew about Tink, but I figured if I did, my next stop would be a cell.

  The familiar click of heels on the linoleum floor had me turning my head.

  Darci hurrying toward me. When she reached the bench, she slid down next to me. “Have they found Tink?”

  “No.” I shook my head forlornly and proceeded to tell her the events of the day.

  When I was finished, she sighed deeply. “What a mess…Mrs. Buchanan and both Dr. Mason and Kevin?” She rolled her eyes. “She was busy.”

  “It would appear so. I guess Aunt Dot’s suspicions were correct. Christopher looked very surprised when he figured it out.”

  “Do you think Kevin kidnapped Tink?”

  “I don’t know. He was the one who gave the bracelet to Mrs. Buchanan, but he claims Silas was the one who gave it to him.” I drummed my fingers on my thighs. “They need to find Silas.”

  Another deputy hurrying down the hall caught our attention. He rapped sharply on the door and stepped back when Bill opened it. Leaning close, he talked to Bill in a low voice.

  I strained to hear what he said.

  Bill shot a look in my direction and then nodded at the deputy. Taking a step back, he firmly shut the door.

  “What was that about?” Darci wondered.

  “I don’t know,” I said, jiggling my leg with nervousness. “Maybe they found Silas.”

  Darci took my hand in hers. “Don’t worry. Bill will find her.”

  “What is taking them so long?” I exclaimed.

  Before Darci could reply, the door opened again and Ethan stepped into the hallway, a grim expression on his face. Crossing to us, he sat next to me and stared straight ahead, as if trying to marshal his thoughts.

  “Ophelia—” he began.

  “It’s not good, is it?” My stomach sank to my toes.

  “They think they’ve found Silas—”

  “‘Think?’”

  “The ashes and bone fragments at the crematorium—”