Jane, a tall and attractive brunette, had been sent specifically because she was a forensic artist; she didn’t have a law enforcement background, but she had been a consultant on many cases in San Antonio before heading to the academy and then joining the unit.
“We’re going to have a ‘Yankee’ Krewe before long, the way our numbers are rising,” Angela told him. She was a beautiful woman. After his interview, she’d been the one to show him around and he had learned that she felt she had found her true calling when she’d first joined the New Orleans Krewe. And of course, she’d added with a rueful smile, she’d also found Jackson Crow.
The five of them sat around the table, and at first Angela and Jane just listened as the others discussed growing up in New England.
“We both knew about Melissa Wilson’s death,” Jenna told Rocky. “You couldn’t live in this county without hearing about it. But I was a teenager and Sam was just off to college. When you’re that young...you hear about terrible things, but you don’t feel like there’s much you can do about them.”
“I hadn’t thought about it again until Jackson Crow brought you in to meet us,” Sam said.
“So who’s the lead detective?” Angela asked him.
“An old friend of mine,” Rocky said. “A guy named Jack Grail.”
“So does that mean he’s being helpful?” Jenna asked.
“Completely. I was in before we got the okay,” Rocky said. He turned to Jane. He’d heard about the Krewe. Hell, he’d investigated the Krewe before seeking out Jackson Crow. But it still seemed odd as hell to say certain things out loud.
“Devin Lyle, the young woman who found the Jane Doe, has a...dead aunt who lives with her. It used to be the aunt’s house. The aunt saw someone at the window, and it wasn’t our dead woman. She could be another victim.” He waited. No one laughed; no one questioned him.
“Is the aunt an outgoing spirit?” Jane asked him. “Is she easy to talk to?”
“Yes, very.”
Jane looked at Angela. “How about you and I head over to meet the ghost and her niece after we all go to the station?”
It was agreed. Angela and Jane took their rental; Sam and Jenna went with Rocky. At the station they met up with Jack Grail and were introduced to the other officers working on the case. Jack accompanied them when they gathered in the “feds’ room,” and Rocky went over his charts and explained why he was so certain they were looking at one killer, not a copycat.
“Do you think it could be someone who comes and goes from the area?” Jenna asked. “Because that would make this really, really hard.”
“Yes, it would—except that I believe the killer’s from the area, and that he doesn’t necessarily come and go. Or, necessarily, that he’s a ‘he.’ The victims don’t distrust their attacker or even see him coming. Angela, if I may...”
Using her as his mock victim, he demonstrated the killing technique they’d discerned from the autopsies.
“So a woman could be the killer,” Jack mused.
“A tall woman,” Jenna noted. “Or the angle of the blade would be different.”
“You’re right,” Rocky said. “Based on forensics, the killer stood between five-eight and six-one, possibly six-two.” He shrugged. “I’ve played with a dummy at different heights, but I haven’t been able to narrow it down any further. We need to go at this from all angles. With all of us on it, we can dig deeper, looking for connections and similarities between victims, or trying to come up with a psychological profile and pinpointing people who fit.”
“So it’s computer time,” Sam said.
“I’m good at that kind of thing,” Jenna offered. “I can search Essex County residents from thirteen years ago till now, just give me something to look for.”
“Our killer might have come and gone,” Jane said.
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
“Jenna,” Rocky asked, “can you do a search for residents who purchased athames in that time frame?”
“Of course. But if they used cash...”
“I don’t think they would have. Most people I know don’t even use cash to buy a latte anymore. There are always outside possibilities, but let’s go with this. And an athame is too common a purchase here for someone to be worried that they’d be targeted for buying one,” Rocky said. “And truthfully, alone it means nothing. But when things start to add up, it will be another piece of the puzzle—assuming our killer even used an athame. Still, it’s a good guess based on the ritualistic nature of the murders, so it’s a place to start.”
“The population of Essex County is over 760,000,” Jenna said. “Any ideas for narrowing it down?”
“Our killer could live anywhere in the area, but start with the towns most directly associated with the witch trials,” Rocky said. “Salem, Danvers, Andover, Peabody and the rest.”
“You think this could have something to do with those executions?” Sam asked.
Rocky thought about how Mina Lyle had described the woman in the window. A Puritan.
“A hunch,” he said. “Also,” he added, “look for people on your athame list who own a dark SUV. The boy who found Carly Henderson wasn’t sure what kind of car knocked him off the road, but he thinks it was a dark SUV. It might just have been a lousy driver, but it could have been our killer.”
“All right—age ranges?” Jenna asked.
“I’d say anyone who was fifteen and up at the time of Melissa’s murder,” Rocky said.
“That young?” Sam asked, then shook his head ruefully. “Yeah, you’re right—that young. Sad to say.”
Jack left them to speak with his officers, Sam settled in to go back over the missing-persons reports, Jenna started finessing the computer and the other three each took one of the victims’ files and started back over it, looking for any detail that might have been missed before now.
* * *
With Auntie Mina there in the house to keep it from feeling so empty, Devin found that her work seemed to fly, but Aunt Mina had more for her to do once she got a good look at her herb garden.
Aunt Mina shook her head. “You know, a lot of old wives’ tales are just that, but not all. A lot of what our ancestors thought was good for us really was. The garden needs work.”
“I’ve only been back a few months, Auntie Mina,” Devin reminded her. “But I’ll go out and pull some weeds right now.”
“You will do no such thing! You’ve got to remain inside—and be vigilant,” Aunt Mina said.
Devin had been careful. Very careful. But the two murdered women had been killed in different parts of town, only one of them near her house. And if they were counting the girl who had died thirteen years ago, she’d been killed in Peabody.
“I don’t believe I’m in any danger, Auntie,” Devin said. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was talking to herself. Seriously, how easy was it to imagine her aunt, who had been such a huge part of her life, might be lingering at the cottage that had been her home?
But Rocky had seen her, too.
It was amazing; Rocky had...something special. A sense about such things. It made her feel closer to him, somehow.
She realized that she’d forgotten to call Brent and make reservations for tonight’s tour. She grabbed her phone and was relieved to find out there was still room for them.
He told her to be there by 7:45 p.m., then said casually, “I looked him up, by the way.”
“What?”
“I ran a search on your friend. He is from Peabody, and he was a big shot on the high school football team. Then a girl he knew was murdered and he just quit playing. They say he was headed for the NFL.”
“I guess he didn’t care that much about a pro career.” She had the feeling he had decided that going into law enforcement was more important—especially afte
r losing a friend that way.
“He looks like he still plays. Bet the guy spends half his life in a gym.”
“I don’t know. We’re friends, but—”
“I don’t trust him, Devin,” Brent warned her.
“What? Why would you say that?”
“His friend dies, he goes away. I can trace him through college and then...he disappears. I found some of his classes. You’ve got to hear the titles. Things like ‘Women Who Kill,’ ‘Defining the Psychotic Mind’...the list goes on.”
“He majored in criminology,” Devin said.
“Yeah? Are you sure he didn’t major in being a criminal?”
Devin kept her mouth shut. Rocky hadn’t told the others what he did for a living, and though she didn’t think he was trying to hide it—he wasn’t here undercover or anything—it didn’t seem like it was her place to say anything.
“He’s a good guy, Brent,” she said.
“Don’t be fooled just because you think he’s hot.”
“Brent!”
“Okay, sorry. But friends have to look after friends. And I’m just saying, he leaves after a friend is killed—he comes back and two women are murdered.”
“I don’t believe he was back in the area yet when Carly Henderson was killed.”
“You may not believe,” Brent said, “but you don’t know.”
He hung up before she could reply. Exasperated, she almost called him back to tell him she wasn’t coming.
But she didn’t.
She was about to get back to work when her phone rang. Rocky. He wanted her to know that two of his fellow agents were on the way. One was a sketch artist who wanted to work with Aunt Mina.
“What?” Devin said.
“She wants to work with your aunt,” he repeated.
She stared at the phone. “My aunt is dead.”
“That’s fine. They won’t mind. They’re both great, and I know you’ll like them. So will your aunt.” She felt his hesitation before he spoke again. “We’re all with a special unit of the FBI, Devin. The Krewe was formed because there are people out there who can see and talk to the dead. By working together, we’re able to do better work. We don’t have to pretend to one another, or come up with some ridiculous explanation for why we know something. And of course, as we’re seeing, it doesn’t solve everything. Some souls do stay as ghosts, and some don’t, but...well, I can’t tell you how great it is that you’re one of us.”
“One of you?”
“That you can see,” he added quietly.
“Yes, I suppose. I mean...it’s not easy.”
“No,” he agreed. “See you soon.”
That was all. He was gone.
And he hadn’t given her much warning. She’d barely hung up when she heard the doorbell chime.
“Who is it, dear?” Aunt Mina called from the back room, where she was watching television.
“Two more FBI agents, Auntie.”
Aunt Mina giggled. “I’ll behave. I promise.”
“No,” Devin said dryly. “They’re coming to see you.”
“How lovely,” Aunt Mina said.
Devin wasn’t sure that any of it was lovely at all. She gave her aunt a weak smile and went to the door, looking carefully through the peephole before opening it. The two women on her doorstep were attractive and dressed in what people called business casual. The blonde introduced herself as Angela Hawkins, and the brunette was Jane Everett, the forensic artist.
To Devin’s absolute astonishment, even though she knew from what Rocky had told her that they could see ghosts, they greeted Aunt Mina as if she were as corporeal as they were.
But she prepared coffee and tea, then―when she wasn’t quick enough and Aunt Mina reminded her that they should offer their guests something to eat―went back to the kitchen and found some scones.
Jane was sitting on the sofa with Auntie Mina, working on a sketch as Aunt Mina described the woman she’d seen. Angela smiled at Devin and said softly, “It looks like you’re in shock.”
Devin admitted, “A little.”
“Are you having trouble accepting your gift?”
“I’m not sure I see this as a gift,” Devin said.
“Have you seen spirits before? Before your aunt’s reappearance, I mean?” Angela asked her.
“She did, she just didn’t admit that she did,” Aunt Mina piped in. “Comes from me, of course. And my family line. It skips a generation in our family. But the ability is very strong in Devin.”
“Now, Miss Lyle, I need you to focus,” Jane said.
“Of course, dear, of course,” Aunt Mina said.
Angela grinned at Devin. “So...you accepted your talent late, I take it? Not to worry—many of us did. And it’s not always easy to understand what’s really going on, since there are spirits out there we never see, and others are shy or just haven’t learned yet how to make themselves visible—not to mention audible―to the living. Even the most gifted among us.” She shook her head and smiled. “Those of us in the Krewes have been at this awhile, and we still don’t understand everything. We try, and then we hope for the best.”
Devin glanced over at her aunt. “I don’t know what to think. Aunt Mina saw a woman in Puritan dress. It might have been an actress, of course—there are reenactors all around the city. But...if she saw a ghost, what would that mean? Whoever the killer is, he or she might have been around thirteen years ago—but not three-hundred-plus years ago.”
“No, that’s very true. But if we can identify the woman you found or your aunt’s Puritan, we might be able to find out how they’re related, and that could help us solve our case.”
“Okay,” Jane announced, breaking into the conversation. “Here’s what I have so far,” she said, then turned her sketch pad around, showing them what she’d drawn.
The woman in the sketch was pretty and delicate. She had fine features, and large, light-colored eyes. She wore the cap typical of the Puritans and a white pinafore over a dark dress.
“Close?” she asked Aunt Mina.
Aunt Mina sighed softly. “Close? She’s nearly exact. But I’ve never seen her before—or since—that night.”
“Have you ever seen her?” Jane asked, looking at Devin.
“No, I don’t know her,” Devin said.
“Well, then, I guess we’re set here,” Jane said. She rose and smiled at Devin. “You have a lovely home,” she said.
Devin didn’t respond. It was still Aunt Mina’s home, really.
But Aunt Mina seemed to be disappearing.
“Thank you,” Devin said distractedly, her eyes on her aunt’s fading form.
Jane followed the direction of her gaze and said sympathetically, “It takes a lot to appear and speak, and your aunt had to really focus to give us so much information. She’ll be back.”
“Don’t be startled when she arrives out of the blue,” Angela warned.
“Oh, I’ve gotten used to her,” Devin said.
Jane and Angela got set to leave, and Devin walked them to the door. When she opened it, she had to stifle a scream.
Because standing there was Rocky.
“Hey, how did it go?” he asked.
Jane produced her drawing. Rocky studied it for a long moment. Then he looked at Devin. “Anyone you’ve ever seen before?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t know her.”
“We’ll find her,” he said, his eyes holding hers. “Thank you,” he told Jane. “Are you ready?” he asked Devin.
“For?”
“It’s after seven,” he said. “The tours all start around eight, right?”
“Oh!” she said, amazed that the afternoon had gone by so quickly. “Oh.”
“So...ready t
o go?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” She turned to the other two agents. “Would you like to join us? Brent is a friend of mine, he won’t mind.”
“We were going to go back to the hotel and assess what we have so far,” Jane said. “I think a tour—a refresher course—of the city’s history is actually a good idea, but we’ll go another night. Witchcraft does seem to be the key to solving this case, doesn’t it?”
Devin didn’t let herself reply, reminding herself that Jane wasn’t attacking the city’s Wiccan community, only stating the obvious. Because one way or another, witchcraft was at the heart of these killings.
It was the pentagrams found on the victims.
Devin grabbed her purse, let the others out ahead of her and locked the door. The other women took their rental, and she went in Rocky’s car. As they drove, he seemed preoccupied.
“Your friends—your coworkers—are very nice.”
He flashed her a smile. “They are. I’m just getting to know them myself. But what I know already is that they’re pretty amazing.”
“Oh.”
“New assignment,” he told her. “I just joined the Krewe. I’d been working across the country.”
“It must feel strange to come home to...this,” she said.
“Not at all—I asked for this assignment.”
Of course, he had. He had said it: he was haunted. Had been for years.
And now...
“Have you come up with anything?” she asked him, then smiled. “Or is that classified?”
“We’ve followed every lead, and we’re running some computer searches. But as to answers...no, none yet.”
“It makes sense that you wanted a sketch of the woman Aunt Mina saw.”
He glanced her way. “Of course. I’m trying to figure out how the victims are chosen, because I do believe there’s a reason they’re being targeted. I just keep thinking...our killer’s not a sexual sadist. The women aren’t being molested. It’s more like a ritual—a sacrifice.”
Heather Graham Krewe of Hunters Series, Volume 4 Page 39