Satan's Mirror

by Roxanne Smolen

  The video was grainy, but her crew could clean it up. It showed Weeden Street lit by quaint streetlamps and the walkway to Vanessa’s house, then switched to her as she followed the path along the fence. The shot faded to black when Dan entered the shadows between the properties.

  There came a blink. Light flared, and Emily saw herself standing before the staircase. She looked petrified. After a moment, she climbed toward the second floor. Dan swept the camcorder upward and caught a glimpse of shining, red eyes. When he reached the landing, he showed a rabbit hopping away.

  With dreadful slowness, he followed Emily through a door. She crossed the room, stepping over a pentagram laid out on the floor. The video crackled and jumped. Interference, she thought, remembering what Dan said about electromagnetic fluctuations. She saw herself hold the ELF meter to the disturbance on the wall—but Satan’s Mirror was blurred. It had the look of a blot-out, like a botched erasure.

  It didn’t matter. They would still hear the devil’s voice—and as if on cue, the devil told her she was fragile.

  With a pang of loss and sorrow, she saw Dan’s face as he set the camcorder on the floor. The camera angled upward, flooding the doorway with light. Emily walked into the shot, looking into the hall.

  The quality of the video worsened. Emily heard garbled screams, saw flashes of herself fighting to grab something. Occasionally, she saw Dan’s foot or leg held high in the air. It would have been laughable had she not been there, had she not known what was happening.

  With an audible pop, the video sharpened. It showed Emily scrambling from the floor and running out the door. For several minutes, the camcorder continued to run, showing the doorway of the silent room. Then the police came in and switched the thing off.

  Emily closed her eyes. Part of her wanted to plead with them to take a second look, to see past the flickering images to what truly happened. But a larger part knew what her reaction would be if she’d been shown such a video.

  “Hoax,” said the older officer, echoing her thoughts.

  Harris returned to the desk where she sat. “There are more microdrives in your backpack. Anything on them?”

  She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “Extras. Dan gave them to me to hold. You can keep them if you want. You can keep everything.”

  She hid her face in her hands. A high-pitched sound escaped her—like the mewling of a kitten. Stop it! She bit the inside of her cheek.

  “I don’t think we’ll need them.” He put the disks into her bag, and then slid the phone her way. “You’ve been read your rights. By law, you’re entitled to a phone call. I’ll leave you alone for a moment.” He walked to the desk where the video was on replay.

  Emily sagged. She never felt so tired, so alone. With trembling fingers, she punched numbers into the phone.

  Ross Devine answered groggily. “It’s one o’clock in the morning.”

  “Boss,” she said, her voice quaking, “we’ve had some trouble.”

  She could almost hear him sit up in bed. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Dan is gone. He…disappeared.”

  “What? What happened?”

  She balled a fist in her hair, unable to answer.

  “Emily! What did you see?”

  She looked across at the video. What had she seen? “I don’t know. I’m not sure anymore.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Saint Augustine police station. They have me on trespassing charges.”

  “All right,” Ross said. “I’ll handle everything. I want you on the first flight back.”

  A harsh mix of emotion swamped her—relief, gratitude, guilt. “But I can’t. I can’t leave him.”

  “I told you I’d take care of it. I want you home.”

  TEN

  Emily’s eyes watered in the bright, morning sunlight as she stepped out of the police station. While Ross and the lawyers worked their long distance magic to set her free, she managed to get a couple hours of troubled sleep in the holding pen. This lack of rest mixed with the horror of the night before caused her head to throb and her stomach to twist. She tried not to think of Dan, but his absence was like a dull ache that wouldn’t go away.

  True to his word, Officer Harris returned her backpack along with Dan’s camera and camcorder. The police then booted her out the front door without the courtesy of calling a cab or allowing her the use of a phone book. Emily thought this was harassment, but she was too tired to argue. Now she stood at the corner, feeling dazed and fighting to gather her thoughts.

  A police cruiser pulled before her, and Officer Harris leaned across the front seat to open the passenger door. “Hop in. I’ll drive you to your van.”

  She dragged the backpack off her shoulders and slid into the car. “I thought it was against policy to assist troublemakers.”

  “It is,” he said, smiling, “but I figure, hey, I’m off-duty, heading home. It wouldn’t hurt to give you a lift.”

  “That’s not what the others said.”

  “Well, the others are convinced you’re running a scam.”

  “What do you think?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t believe it is possible for anyone to vanish into thin air. However, it is possible to make it appear they did. Magicians do that sort of thing all the time.”

  “You’re telling me it was a magic trick?”

  “I’m saying you didn’t see what you thought you saw. And, clearly, there was someone else in that house with you.”

  She blew out a breath, leaning back against the headrest, watching buildings and trees glide by. “Can I ask you something? Saint Augustine may be small but it’s a city nonetheless. A lot of people live here.”

  “More all the time.”

  “Then how is it that when I mentioned Vanessa, you knew who I was talking about? It doesn’t make sense that everyone should know her.”

  He put on his turn signal and completed a turn before answering. “Vanessa is active in the Preservation Society, and has been a political thorn in the mayor’s side on more than one occasion. But that’s not how I know her.” He glanced at Emily. “This is off the record, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “There’s been an upswing in disappearances the past five or six years. I mean, we’ve always had some, but lately—” He shook his head. “Most were drifters or homeless people. One was a high school kid who was into the occult. Then there was old Grimley, whose wife had just died. He owned the house next to the one where you were found. They vanished without a trace. Cases never closed. All of them with one thing in common—each had seen Vanessa the week they disappeared.”

  “You’re kidding,” Emily said. “She’s been under investigation before?”

  “Many times. Always comes out clean. I know she’s involved somehow. A gut feeling, you know? But I can never prove it.”

  Emily looked away. Tears burned her eyes. She’d also had a gut feeling—and look what happened to Dan. “Vanessa owns that house now. The one next door. She said Joey told her to buy it.”

  “I’ll be on the lookout for Joey Mastrianni, thanks to you. It’s a good lead.”

  She nodded, drying her cheeks with the heel of her hand.

  They turned onto a residential roadway she recognized. Weeden Street. A shudder coursed through her. She stared out the windshield as Harris pulled the squad car behind her van.

  “Will you wait until I get to my vehicle?” she asked, her voice high-pitched and weak.

  He smiled. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  She got out of the car, fumbling through her pockets for the key. She kept her gaze down, but still noticed there was a new chain and padlock on the gate and the door of the house was closed.

  She met Officer Harris in the street. “No crime tape?”

  “Officially, there’s been no crime. I’ll file the missing persons report tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Thanks for the ride.” She unlocked the van’s door, and he held it for her as she cli
mbed inside.

  “Look. I believe you saw something last night. I don’t know what, but I aim to find out. There’s nothing more you can do here, understand? Go ahead home.”

  She stammered. “It-It’s just that I don’t know if Dan’s alive or—”

  “If he is, I’ll find him.” He wrote on the back of a business card. “Here’s my cell. If you think of anything, call me. And I’ll let you know any information I dig up.”

  “All right.” She returned his smile.

  He closed her door, gave it a pat, and walked away. She noticed he was still sitting in his squad car when she drove off a moment later, and wondered if he was watching to keep her safe or making sure she didn’t re-enter the house.

  Her inclination was to leave the area as fast as she could, but she didn’t. She drove beneath the speed limit as she took streets at random, sitting forward in her seat and glancing about.

  She searched for Joey. She didn’t know what she would do if she saw him. Would she march him to the police? Follow him to his next victim? She had a flight out at noon—she should be packing. She should be thinking about going home. Yet she canvassed the city.

  Traffic grew. She received a few honks and dirty looks from drivers as they sped around her. She barely noticed. Hunched over the wheel, aching with fatigue, she scoured the streets and alleys. She passed the warehouse, the coffee shop, the marina, and the park. Joey had disappeared as if he were a ghost.

  She glanced at her watch for what seemed the thousandth time. The morning was getting late, and she was no nearer an answer. What happened to Dan? Was the Mirror an illusion, as Officer Harris believed? Joey knew—and so did one other person.

  She braked with a screech in front of Vanessa’s Psychic Parlor and leapt from the van. She opened the parlor door with such force it slammed against the wall and knocked a string of bells to the floor.

  Vanessa sat at the table with a woman in her late forties. They drank tea.

  “Where is he?” Emily shouted.

  Vanessa cocked her head. “Your boyfriend?”

  “No! Your boyfriend. Don’t pretend you don’t know what is going on.”

  “I always know what is going on. I am, after all, a seer.” She smiled at the woman beside her, who tittered into her hand.

  “I am going to ruin you,” Emily growled, seething with rage.

  “Vanessa, I’ll just go,” said the woman, standing.

  “No, no, Minerva. Wait while I see Emily to the door.” She grasped Emily by the elbow and spun her around, hissing in her ear. “Do you think you are the first to threaten me? I am better protected than you will ever know.”

  “Protected against a kidnapping indictment? Or how about a murder charge?”

  She laughed. “No one has died, silly girl. On the contrary. Your friend now enjoys eternal life. He resides in Wormwood.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Not where. What,” she said, her face beatific. “Wormwood was a star. A glorious star that fell from the heavens. It struck our barren ground with such force the crater became a lake of fire. Its banks sprang up as a mighty fortress filled with pain and delight.”

  “What are you talking about? There is no place on Earth like that.”

  “Not the Earth you know.”

  “That’s crazy,” Emily muttered, and then realized just how crazy it was. Vanessa was insane. “Where is Joey?”

  “I told you he was mine. You should have stayed away from him.” Vanessa hustled her out the door.

  “Where is he?”

  Her gaze dropped. “He isn’t here. For all I know, Joey has gone to hell.”

  ELEVEN

  Emily expected to feel thankful to return to New York, but as she walked the long hallway of the television studio, dread edged into her thoughts. Ross would want her account of everything that happened in Saint Augustine—and she didn’t know what happened. The details were fuzzy. Her mind balked whenever she tried to recall them.

  She received friendly acknowledgments from staff members as she passed offices on either side. She offered a strained smile in response but declined to stop and chat. Evidently, word had not yet spread about their fiasco in Florida. That surprised her. In the past, when a job went bad, crew and staff alike were required to sign affidavits that they would not leak information to the press.

  The door to Ross Devine’s office was open. He was reading copy by the light of the window, his back to her.

  Emily gulped. How would she explain things to him? She didn’t get the story, didn’t uncover the truth. What sort of reporter was she?

  She gave the doorframe a timid rap.

  Ross glanced around, and his face fell. “Come in, Em. Have a seat. You look awful. I called Dan’s ex about his disappearance. She wasn’t interested, but I thought his kids should know.” He closed the door behind her and ushered her to a chair.

  Emily collapsed into the arms of the wingback, too exhausted to speak. She avoided Ross’ gaze as she massaged her temple.

  He sat in the opposite chair. “I have the police report. Now I need your version.”

  Emily winced, bracing herself. She didn’t want to remember, couldn’t live through it again. “We had a lead on the Mirror, so we broke into an abandoned house to look for it. We found rabbits loose in the halls.”

  “Rabbits?”

  “Someone was breeding them. A few were mutilated. Sacrificed. We saw a patch of light on the wall. It drove my ELF meter wild. Then a face appeared.”

  “You saw it? What did it look like?” he said, leaning forward.

  She glanced at him, surprised at his tone. “It looked like a devil, the kind you’d see in a cartoon—horns, red skin.”

  “Let me get this straight. When you got to the house, the Mirror had already been conjured?”

  Of course! That proved someone was in the house with them. Why hadn’t she realized it before?

  “Did it speak?” Ross asked. “Could you understand it?”

  “The words didn’t match the lips. I thought it was a hologram, and checked the hallway for equipment. When I looked back, a second Mirror had opened. A demon leaned out and grabbed Dan.”

  “What? It was corporeal?”

  “Yes. Maybe.” She covered her face. “I don’t know for sure.”

  “Who would know? Dan?”

  A frown crossed her face. “I wonder now if it was an illusion, if behind the hocus-pocus was a flesh and blood man.”

  “A person? To what end?”

  Maybe he liked to frighten his victims half to death before murdering them. She shuddered.

  “Then what?” Ross asked.

  “Dan screamed,” she said, her voice far away. “I grabbed him. I tried to pull him away from the thing, to make it let go, but I couldn’t. He got smaller and smaller as if dragged backward through a long tunnel. He was still reaching for me.”

  Ross blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Did he get any photographs?”

  “A video. It needs some clean-up work. And I took about a hundred shots of a figure on the porch. The police kept everything. They said it was evidence, and I could have it after my hearing. Ross, I don’t want to go back there. I couldn’t stand it.”

  “You won’t have to make that court date. We’ll send so many lawyers they won’t know what hit them. We need that video, though.” He grinned. “It looks like we finally have a real phenomenon on our hands.”

  She stared. “Is that what this is all about? You wanting something real? You ship us down there with no information, no idea of what we’re up against—”

  “You don’t get it. We need something unsolvable. There’s talk that all our stories have been put-up jobs. The ratings—”

  “How can you care about ratings? Dan is missing. He might even be dead.” She leapt to her feet. “And what makes you so sure it’s a real phenomenon? Magicians have been making people disappear for years. We don’t know if Satan’s Mirror is a porthole to hell or an elaborate hoax pulled
off by a deranged carnival worker.”

  “Em, calm down.”

  “Dan was my friend. He didn’t want to go into that house, but he went—because I told him to. I shouldn’t have left Saint Augustine without knowing what happened to him.”

  “No, you did right to come home. The police are on the case.”

  Emily shook her head. “They think it’s a publicity stunt.”

  “I spoke to the person in charge just before you came in. He assured me he is taking the missing person case seriously.” Ross took her hand and patted it. “If Dan can be found, we will find him.”

  She sniffled. “I had to leave all his things at the bed and breakfast.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” Ross hugged her. “I’m putting you on leave of absence, effective immediately. Take as much time as you need.”

  “But I can’t. Not now.”

  “We’ll re-run an episode or two, call them the people’s picks. Maybe we’ll even let the public vote for them on the Internet. You rest for a few days, put everything out of your mind.” He walked her to the door and called to his production assistant. “See about getting a cab for Emily.”

  * * * *

  The lock clicked loudly as Emily turned the key and opened the front door of her home. Waves of relief washed over her. Here was sanctuary. Here she didn’t have to explain, didn’t have to pretend. She dropped her bags to the side and leaned on the door until it closed.

  Esmeralda came out of the kitchen. “You’re home. We didn’t expect you so soon.”

  “We had some problems.”

  “Sorry to hear it. You didn’t call April last night. She waited up for you.”

  Emily groaned. She slumped into the living room and fell upon the couch. “I spent the night in jail.”

  “Again?”

  “I’ll explain it to her.”

  “Good. I’m sure little April will feel much better knowing that getting the story is more important to you than she is.”