by Kay Hooper
“Like who has a motive to murder Wesley Tate?”
“Maybe.”
Slowly, Ash said, “If this killer has the ability to tap into energy, of places or rituals or whatever, and channel it, use it, then something has to be driving him. You don’t just wake up one day and decide there are better ways of literally destroying people than using guns or knives.”
“No. Even if it’s a natural gift, the time and effort required to learn to control it…Channeling raw energy is really not that much fun. You’d have to be strongly motivated.”
“Maybe by hate?”
“That,” Riley said, “would probably do it.”
“So the real question is—who might hate you enough to do all this in order to destroy you.”
“Yeah,” Riley said. “That is the question.”
“My bet,” Jake said to Steve, “is that forensics will place at least some members of your group in that clearing. Preliminary tests indicate both semen and vaginal secretions from a number of different…donors…on the ground out there. What, Satan doesn’t let you bring a blanket to the party?”
“Sheriff,” Steve said calmly, “whatever we may have been doing on Sunday evening, everyone in this house was in this house well before midnight. We had a big pizza delivery around eleven; I’m sure that can be verified by the restaurant and by the guy who carried in six large pizzas.”
“So? Wesley Tate died sometime between two and six A.M., which means any or all of you had plenty of time to finish your pizza and return to the clearing.”
“I never said we were at the clearing.”
“We’ll soon find out, won’t we? Because Riley’s statement that you spoke to Wesley Tate before you arrived here, coupled with your own statements to local citizens that you and your group practice Satanism, are enough for the judge to issue a warrant compelling all of you to submit to DNA testing.”
When Steve sent a betrayed glance her way, Riley said, “Sorry, Steve, but a man’s dead. We have to find out who murdered him and why. We will find out. If you and your people had nothing to do with it, now’s the time to convince us.”
Jenny spoke up then to say, “I still believe we should have our lawyer present.”
Riley studied the dark woman thoughtfully. She was the only member of the group other than Steve who had anything at all to say; the other ten people—five men and five women—seated in the great room of their rental house were all silent and fairly expressionless.
They were a rather varied group, ranging from mid-twenties to nearing retirement age, but otherwise looked like any other visitors to Opal Island in their bright-colored shorts and thin tops, with most sporting at least faint cases of sunburn.
Riley was picking up a general low-level anxiety in the room, which made perfect sense given the situation, but nothing to make her overly suspicious of the group as a whole.
Jenny, though…Jenny was different.
Jenny was worried.
…not what I wanted. How could it be? But…I didn’t know. I thought his mind had finally been opened, that he…I thought he had changed.
Interesting. And told Riley a lot. But before she could follow that lead, Jake was pressing again, determined to get his questions answered now that they had a tangible connection between these people and the murdered man.
“People who have nothing to hide don’t need a lawyer,” he said. “No offense, Ash.”
“None taken.” Ash was sitting slightly behind Riley at the big dining table, their chairs turned so that they faced the group ranged around the living room, and only he and Riley knew that the hand he rested casually on her shoulder was neither casual nor possessive but a necessary conduit between them.
And a vital source of strength for Riley.
Sitting on the other side of the table, Leah had noted the contact with a smile; Jake appeared more irritated every time he looked their way.
He doesn’t hide his thoughts very well. Definitely doesn’t like me being with Ash. But whether it’s because of me or because of Ash, I can’t really tell….
Why am I thinking about this shit?
“I think Jenny’s right,” Steve said, clearly uneasy now. “Why don’t you go away and get your warrant, Sheriff, and we’ll get our lawyer, and then we’ll see.”
Riley didn’t have to be able to read him to know Jake was on the point of saying something hotheaded and completely unnecessary, so she spoke before he could.
“Steve, I promised your group wouldn’t be harassed and I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. But we need to know what you know. Wesley Tate was the one who called you, yes?”
“Yeah.”
Ignoring Jake’s affronted body language as he stood before the entertainment center and in what should have been the focal point of the group, Riley continued to calmly question Steve.
“But you had never met him?”
“No.”
“Then why were you even willing to talk to him? You must have gotten plenty of calls from reporters on fishing expeditions, calls from others intent on causing you trouble. What made the call from Tate so different?”
“I told you. He knew people.”
“What people?”
“Dammit, Riley, you can’t expect me to answer that. Some of them don’t practice openly.”
“Gee, I wonder why?” Jake muttered.
Instantly, Steve said, “Because of suspicious people like you, Sheriff. We’re supposed to have religious freedom in this country, you know.”
Before Jake could follow what would certainly be a hotly impassioned tangent, Riley surprised most of the people in the room by asking a quiet question.
“How long had you been divorced, Jenny?”
Going pale beneath her tan, Jenny said, “What?”
“You heard me. Wesley Tate was your ex-husband, wasn’t he?”
Steve reached for his partner’s hand. “She doesn’t have to answer that.”
“Steve, don’t be an idiot.” Riley kept her voice matter-of-fact. “A connection like this would certainly show up in a deep background check, so why try to hide or deny it? Besides, they were legally divorced, right? So she wouldn’t benefit financially from his death. And if they’ve been divorced as long as I think they have, any old hurts and resentments are undoubtedly past and forgotten. Jenny has no motive to have murdered Wesley Tate.”
At least…I don’t think she has. Focus, dammit!
Steve frowned but didn’t try to stop her when Jenny finally spoke.
“We were divorced more than ten years ago,” she said, something of relief in her voice. “Married less than five. He…couldn’t accept my nontraditional lifestyle choices.”
Flashing back to her dream—or memory—of seeing this woman serving as a naked altar in a ceremony about as far from traditional as it was possible to get, Riley wasn’t sure she blamed him. But all she said was, “And since then? Any contact with him?”
“Not much. He sort of made it a habit to call around Christmas, just to check and see how I was doing.”
“Do satanists celebrate Christmas?” Jake wondered aloud, either too intrigued by the question or too pissed at having the interview taken out of his hands to care about going off topic.
“Not the way Christians do,” Steve said flatly.
Riley got them back on track. “So why did he contact you out of the blue?” she asked Jenny.
“He said he just wanted to help. There’d been…a few incidents, as Steve told you, where we were living near Columbia. Made the local news. Wes saw it, he said. He was worried things would get worse, that there was a general climate of intolerance in the area. All the supposed occult stuff during the last year or so here in the Southeast.”
Riley nodded. “Yeah, we investigated some of that.” Bishop reminded me about that too. But it was all bogus. Or most of it was bogus…. “So Tate was worried about you. And?”
“And he said he knew of a safe haven. He told us about this house, said it was
a nice, peaceful place with gorgeous views and that nobody would bother us. He said he knew—for certain—that there were like-minded people living in the area.”
“But he didn’t name names.”
“No. Afraid not.”
“And you still haven’t been contacted by any of these like-minded people?”
“No.”
“Okay,” Riley said. “Did he say he’d meet you here?”
“He said he might spend some time here on the island, that maybe we could get together and talk,” Jenny replied. “But it was all very casual, nothing at all set in stone. He said he’d call if he did come. He never called.”
“And you didn’t suspect he might be the man killed on Sunday night?”
“No. Why would I?”
Jake broke in again to say, “Well, excuse me, but you didn’t seem all that surprised or broken up when we told you it was him.”
“Not all of us show everything we feel, Sheriff,” she said, rather pointedly scanning him up and down and then looking away dismissively.
Riley was conscious of a fleeting wish that she and Ash had come out here alone to talk to these people, but reminded herself silently of her unofficial status. And spoke quickly before Jake could explode—as he showed every sign of doing.
“Did you really think he’d changed his mind after all these years?” she asked Jenny.
The dark woman hesitated, then smiled faintly. “No. Not really. I wanted to think so, but it was far more likely he just wanted to find out if I was still serious about my lifestyle. He never remarried. I don’t think he ever really gave up on us.”
“Which,” Jake said to Steve, “gives you a motive to murder.”
“Hardly,” Steve said. “You see, I know Jenny is committed to our lifestyle.”
“Assuming we accept that,” Riley said without looking at Jake, “you still need to account for your presence in the clearing where Wesley Tate’s body was found on Monday morning. You were there Sunday night, weren’t you?”
“If we were, it was only to perform a sunset consecration ritual,” he said.
Riley knew how much rituals could vary from group to group, but she was picking up enough from Steve to feel fairly confident in saying, “No fire except a candle, black clothing rather than robes. Salt to form the circle and chanting inside it. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, a sexual ritual, but at least three couples…indulged. You had intended to use the stone altar in future, more elaborate rituals but wanted to make sure the area was consecrated first.”
“That was the plan,” he admitted. “Until some lunatic decided to sacrifice a human being. Believe me, any rituals we conduct now will be private and inside the house. With the blinds closed.”
“You have a permit for a bonfire tomorrow night,” Jake said.
“We’re going to roast marshmallows, Sheriff. You’re welcome to come, but bring your own stick.”
Riley decided that Jake’s blood pressure probably couldn’t take any more and rose to her feet. “We may want to talk to you again later,” she told Steve. “In the meantime, I’ll suggest again that it might be wise to stick close to home for the duration.”
Steve frowned but nodded, and Jenny merely said quietly, “Thanks, Riley.”
Jake maintained his silence until they reached their vehicles, and then demanded, “Jesus, Ash, can’t you keep your hands off her for five minutes?”
Holding Riley’s hand, Ash smiled and said, “I really can’t.”
Leah coughed to cover the beginning of a laugh, and then said hastily to Riley, “You don’t think they’re involved, do you?”
“I think we were meant to believe so, but…no.” Riley shook her head. “I think whoever killed him is the person who advised Wesley Tate to invite his ex-wife and her group here.”
Jake said, “Wait a minute. Are you telling me I’ve got another group of satanists around here?”
“Not a group, no. That would be stretching the odds past breaking, I think. Maybe two people, a team, more probably just one.”
“Using this group as a diversion,” Ash suggested.
“A diversion from what? Some other reason Tate was killed?”
“Well,” Riley pointed out, “it has worked. I mean, first we were running around trying to find out who he was, and now the obvious suspects don’t look like such a good fit. We all know the longer it takes to solve a murder the colder the trail gets.”
She wasn’t about to confide in the sheriff her suspicions that she herself was the linchpin of the entire situation, the target of someone’s rage. What evidence she had of such a conclusion was something he was not at all likely to understand, much less accept.
“Stalling tactics?” Jake shook his head. “Then why leave him hanging over that altar? Why not just dump his body in the ocean or bury it somewhere? Since he was never reported missing, we probably wouldn’t even have known to start looking for him until new tenants showed up at that house. And why torture and decapitate him?”
“It was meant to look like an occult-related death,” Riley said. “That doesn’t mean it actually was one.”
“So far, we haven’t looked past the occult as a motive,” Ash said neutrally.
With a definite growl in his voice, Jake said, “I’ve got a motive for you. It might have been dressed up in black robes and salt circles, but I’ve got a dead man and his ex-wife both on this island, and that can’t be a coincidence. Look, spouses kill each other all the time. And, yes, even years after they divorce. Maybe he just inherited family money and she’s still named in his will. Maybe there’s a kid involved somewhere and it’s a custody issue. Maybe Smiling Steve in there is a hell of a lot more jealous than he let on.”
Riley frowned, then shrugged. “It’s your investigation, Jake. I just don’t believe anybody in that house killed Wesley Tate.”
“Then who?” Jake practically roared.
“I don’t know. Yet.”
He settled his shoulders with the air of a man about to do things. Possibly intensely physical things. “Fine. I’m sure you won’t mind if I dig a little deeper with those background checks.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea. Because there is another connection between that group, Wesley Tate, and either Castle or Opal Island.”
“What sort of connection?” Leah asked.
“Find that,” Riley said, “and we’ll have a very big piece of the puzzle.”
Jake motioned for Leah to get into their Jeep, then said to the other two, “So what’re you going to be doing in the meantime?”
Riley knew Ash was tempted to reply that it involved nakedness and the Kama Sutra, and replied hastily, “Oh, nosing around. Trying to find out if there really are other occult practitioners in the area.”
“Good luck with that. Let me know if you find anything.”
“Will do.” She watched the sheriff’s department Jeep pull away, then looked at Ash with lifted brows. “You were a lot of help.”
“I’ve discovered I enjoy pissing Jake off. It’s like having a new toy.”
She had to laugh, but added, “Well, stop it, okay? At least until we figure out what’s going on. It’s distracting.”
Sobering, he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I did notice that you haven’t been in any hurry to tell Jake what you really suspect is going on here.”
“It’s not like I have any proof. And it all sounds so incredibly Byzantine, for someone to go to all this trouble to lure me here just to mess with my head. The more I think about it, the more unlikely it seems.”
Ash glanced back toward the house, then led Riley around to the passenger side of the Hummer. “Maybe we should talk about this on the way,” he said.
Riley waited until he joined her in the vehicle and had the engine going before saying, “On the way where?”
“You tell me. How is the head, by the way? You seemed to be picking up on undercurrents back there, if not actual thoughts.”
“Actual thoughts,” she conf
irmed. “Jenny’s, anyway. Faint and fuzzy, but perceptible. So the head is definitely improving. On every count except memory; the blackouts are still blanks, and my time here before the Taser attack is still weirdly distant and definitely spotty.”
Ash guided her hand to rest on his thigh. “So energy isn’t a problem now?”
“Not so much. But I am hungry.” She thought about it. “I guess food is still the fuel for the physical furnace, but your energy is helping with the psychic end of things.”
“As long as it’s helping.” He glanced at his watch and put the Hummer in gear. “Lunch first, I think. I know you wanted to talk to Gordon this afternoon. What else?”
“I want to look at those arson sites again. Something’s been nagging at me.” She looked at him and, very conscious of his hard thigh beneath her hand, added dryly, “We’ll get to the Kama Sutra later.”
Ash smiled. “You really are getting back to normal.”
“Because I knew what you were thinking?”
“From the first time we touched,” he confirmed. “You said it wasn’t complete thoughts, like conversation, just the general impression of what was on my mind at any given moment.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Actually,” he said, “it’s been a bit of a revelation. And a relief. I never have to explain myself or what I mean when we’re talking.”
“There’s always a downside,” she warned.
“Yeah, been there.”
Riley lifted a curious brow.
“I had one of those random sexist-pig thoughts all men occasionally have. According to you.”
“Must have been a doozy if I called you on it. I’m mostly used to them. The military life, you know. And growing up with brothers.”
“Um. Let’s just say it led to a…spirited…debate. And great sex afterward.”