Jack shook his head. He looked worriedly at Rocky. You okay?
Yeah, Rocky said. Im fine. Im not hearing things. Its Melissa, and shes asking for help.
Youre crazy, man. The pressure is getting to you. Hell, youd help yourself out if youd have a beer, Vince offered.
He may be right, Jack noted.
Rocky jumped off the bed of the truck and listened. He couldnt really tell, but the voice seemed to be coming from across the street and...
From inside his mind.
He walked across the street, so intent he forgot to even look for traffic. Thankfully, it was a quiet neighborhood.
Rocky, what the hell?
Vince hurried after him, with Jack following behind.
Rocky sprinted across the grass and into the pines.
Rocky, wait! Vince gasped. He was bigger, but it was hard for him to run as fast. Jack was quickly catching up.
But Rocky kept going until he finally stopped in the maze of pines, holding his breath, listening.
Rocky!
Melissas voice again.
He walked through the trees, grateful for the full moon, whose light filtered through the branches. Branches reaching toward him like skeletal arms.
Yup. Too many slasher movies.
Fallen pine needles were brittle beneath his footsteps as he moved through the trees. Something brushed his face, and he almost gasped aloud before he realized it was just a spiderweb.
Rockwell, where the hell are you going? Vince yelled from somewhere behind him.
Come on, man. What are you doing? Jack demanded as the other two caught up to him. Youre scaring me.
Rocky didnt know. He kept walking through the woods until he came to a barren circle surrounded by pines. A little area of dust and rock and bracken, and...
Melissa. Melissa Wilson.
She was lying on her back, arms and legs stretched straight out. She was staring up at the night sky, at the full moon. Her eyes, he realized, were frozen open.
A red line extended around her throat and dripped to the forest floor.
Melissa Wilson was dead.
* * *
Mr. Rockwell?
Rocky started. Hed been sitting in the front office of the Virginia office of the FBI special division called the Krewe of Hunters, waiting for his appointment with Jackson Crow. He was the assistant director of this branch of special investigations. The titular head of all the Krewe units was a man named Adam Harrison, but he was seldom seen. He seemed to direct from some kind of lofty haven.
The events that had filled his mindas fresh as if theyd just happened, although they had been almost thirteen years in the pastfaded with the sound of the receptionists voice. Until recently, hed buried the memories of Melissa Wilson deep in the darkest recesses of his mind.
Hed forgotten about football after finding her. Hed concentrated on law enforcement in college and gone to work first with the Boston police, and then hed made it into the FBI Academy and taken a position in L.A. after graduation. Since his mother had remarrieda great guy, a retired firemanhe didnt suffer from the only-child guilt that would have made him feel he needed to be near her.
Over the past ten years, hed learned that Hollywood really was a world of illusion, and that only made the area a hotbed for mayhem and murder.
And now...
And now here he was, seeking a new position with a vengeance. Hed followed the Krewe of Hunters for the past few years. His curiosity had been piqued from the first time hed read about their casesand heard the rumors in the field offices. No matter how the members of the special unit were mocked, they were also respected, because they had a batting average that was off the charts.
And that was what he needed now.
Because it had happened again. A murder so much like Melissas that it gave him chillsand practically in his hometown.
Special Agent Crow will see you now.
As Rocky walked into Crows office, the man rose to greet him. Hed known Crow was Native American, and he wasnt surprised the man was tall and fit. He hadnt expected him to be quite so striking, though. He studied the man he hoped would be his boss, and he knew that Crow was studying him in return.
Sit down. Ive been reading your file and the clippings that you sent about the case, Crow said.
Rocky sat. And?
I see that another woman has been discovered in circumstances exactly like the girl you found.
Swampscott this time, Rocky said. Practically next door.
Crow looked gravely at Rocky. You were personally involved with the original case as a teenager.
Yes.
Do you think that will affect your work?
Rocky hesitated.
One wasnt supposed to be emotionally involved in the field; it could jeopardize the ability to make the best decision possible in a tough situation.
He let out his breath. Yes, he admitted.
Crow looked back down at the file before him.
This woman was left just as your friend Melissa was. Arranged in a very specific positionalmost as if her body was meant to create a pentagram.
Five points, Rocky agreed. And there was a silver medallion lying on her chestthe same as in Melissa Wilsons case.
Crow leaned back, stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
Im assuming youve studied up on the Krewe of Hunters and thats why you wrote to me.
Yes.
And of course, weve studied up on you, too.
Im damned glad. Im sure I wouldnt have a chance here if you hadnt.
Crow actually smiled. He leaned forward and said, My bossour director, Adam Harrisonis like a magician. It will still take me about twenty-four hours to get you transferred over. But, he said, looking up, feel free to head on up to Massachusetts right away. Ill inform you when the transfer goes through.
He stood. Rocky did the same, and Crow held out his hand.
Welcome to the Krewe of Hunters, Agent Rockwell.
1
Every once in a while Devin Lyle couldnt help herself. People did such outrageous things sometimes that she just had to step in.
She stepped forward, positioning herself a little closer to the group standing by the memorial so she could hear what they were saying.
Burn, witch! Burn! a young man said. Despite his words, he was actually reverently placing a flower on the bench dedicated to one of the victims of the witch trials.
How horrible. I cant even imagine burning to death, an older woman said.
Excuse me, Devin said. None of the condemned in Salem were burned. Nineteen were hanged, and one man, Giles Corey, was pressed to death.
Really? The older woman sounded relieved. Not that hanging must have been less than horrible, but to burn... She shuddered.
Almost any tour you take in Salem is going to tell you about the victimsand tell you that no one was burned, Devin said. They were all staring at her, and she suddenly felt self-conscious. She wasnt a tour guide, after all. She wrote sweet, fun childrens books about a slightly crazy witch.
But Salem was her home. And she hated the misinformation about it that spread far too frequently.
I saw it in a movie, a kid said, nodding sagely. They burned them in the movie.
That movie took license with history, I promise you, Devin assured him.
And men were called witches, too? Not warlocks? the older woman asked.
Yes, they were all accused of being witches. And at the time, witchcraft was punishable by death, Devin said. So, if you hexed a neighborjust cursed him, or say you had a voodoo doll, whether there was any real magic there or notyou were considered a practicing witch and subject to execution.
So they were all guilty? someone else asked.
No, not all of themyou have to remember, even just saying that you had cursed someone was considered to be witchcraft. Kids would read their futures in broken eggs, and that was witchcraft, by the standards of the time. Those who were condemned and hanged refused to plead guilty, because they were innocent and feared for their souls if they did. During the hysteria, all kinds of crazy things happened. You really need to take a touror just start at the Witch Dungeon and get a good overview of the entire situation.
People were at odds politically, creating an atmosphere ripe for petty arguments. It was winter, it was bitter cold and it was, frankly, miserable. Most scholars believe that the tales Titubaa slave from the Caribbeantold to a group of girls started them making up their own stories. And since people not only believed fiercely in the devil but that he also lived in the woods, they... Devins voice trailed off, and she smiled as she saw an old friend, Brent Corbin, standing nearby. He owned an occult and souvenir store on Essex Street, and led one of the best night tours of the city.
She could see that he was grinning at her, with a teasing light in his eyes. Brent was a little stout, but he had a cute thatch of blond hair, beautiful bright blue eyes and a great smile. He was clearly as bemused as she was by the conversation.
Ten years ago Brent had graduated with her from Salem High. Theyd fought like crazy when theyd been kids, teased and tormented each other over dating as theyd gotten older, and nowespecially with her living back in Salemthey laughed over their old squabbles. It had been great to spend time with him now that she was back to town, and no way was she letting him get away without an introduction.
Hey, she said, smiling. Weve got one of the citys best tour guides right here. This is Brent Corbin. He owns Which Witch Is Which just over on the mall and no oneseriously, no oneknows Salems history better than Brent. Ill leave you in his capable hands.
She waved to him, laughing when the smile disappeared from his face. But then it was back, and he shook his head in amusement as he watched her go.
A few minutes later he sent her a text message. Id throw you in the stocks for thatexcept half of them signed on for the tour tonight. Thx. See ya later.
Devin laughed and continued on to Essex Street, where one of her best friends carried Devins books in her shop, the Haunted Dragon. She not only carried books, but toys and Salem T-shirts, as well as finely made cloaks, clothing and jewelry. Beth Fullway was a practicing Wiccan. She had graduated a few years before Devin, then stayed in the area and, like Brent, opened a shop. She was open from 11:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. daily, with two employees to help her cover all the days of the week. When seven at night rolled around, she was done. Unless, of course, it was October and they were in the middle of Haunted Happenings. In Salem, Haunted Happenings was one of the years biggest eventsa money event. People came in droves, and all the rules changed. Stores stayed open later, and there were more special tours, historical events, haunted houses and whatever other manner of spooky entertainment an up-and-coming entrepreneur could imagine.
A little bell tinkled when Devin went in; the store was about a thousand square feet, with curtained rooms in the rear where Beth and her employees sometimes did readings.
Hey! Beth said, rising to greet Devin with a hug. Beth was about five-eight but so slim she appeared small. Even with Devin being an inch taller at five-nine, they had to stretch over the counter to greet each other.
Glad to see you, Beth said. I mean...now. Im always glad to see you. Her verbal confusion was a frequent result of her effervescent sincerity. I have to tell youI sold out of the last batch of your books in two days. Of course, its summer and this town is teeming with kids. But still....
Thats great, Devin said. Im impressedand flattered.
Anyway, if you happen to have any extras, can you bring them by? Beth asked her. Ive ordered more, but I could use a few to tide me over.
Ill bring my authors copies.
Great, thanks.
Devin looked in the display case by the counter as they talked. She wasnt really much for costly jewelrydiamonds, platinum, elegant piecesbut she loved artistic costume jewelry. Silver. And, okay, sometimes silver with stones.
Wow! she said, and looked up at Beth.
Youre looking at the Sheena Marston series, right? Beth asked.
Theyre gorgeous pieces, arent they? came another voice.
Devin looked up. Theo Hastings, one of Beths employees and mediums, had come from the back. He waved at the young women to whom hed been giving a reading and smiled at Devin. He was about forty, devilishly handsome and great at his work. He was a practicing Wiccanthough Devin suspected that he was practicing more because it was good for his image and his work than because he believed the way Beth did. He had the right look, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders and was highlighted with just a touch of gray, dark eyes and perfectly sculpted features. And of course, he always wore black suits that hinted at the 1800s without being costume pieces. He was always nice, but she hadnt known him all that long, and he wasnt an open book like Beth, so Devin always kept a little distance.
Take that one, he said, pointing to a gorgeous silver medallion hanging from a delicate chain, a pentagram entwined with enamel glass-green leaves and tiny stones. Beautifultruly beautiful. So many people come in here thinking that the pentagram is evil, but it isnt. It even symbolizes the Freemasons, who do a lot of good things and fall under suspicion, too. Pentagrams were important religious symbols for the Babylonians, and they were also used in ancient Greece. Christians have even used the pentagram to represent the five wounds of Christ. Its no different than the cross or the Star of David or any religious symbol. How do people get these things in their minds...?
His voice trailed off as he shook his head.
Hey, youre asking that question in a place where spectral evidence was considered proof of guilt, Devin reminded him.
Amazing, right? Beth asked. A kid said she was being pinched by the astral projection of some poor old woman, and people believed her.
Different times, Devin murmured. And sometimes Im not so sure weve evolved very far. Look at the prejudices we still practice.
Hey, not me, Beth protested. I love everyone.
Devin laughed. And everyone loves you. I mean, as a species, we can still be pretty wretched. You can make prosecuting witches illegal, and we can enact laws against discrimination, but that doesnt mean we can change the human mind.