Harm none argi-1 Read online

  “How do you know it just wasn’t something that Ariel had done?” Cally posed.

  “Because,” I took a deep breath and continued, “the Pentacle was drawn, and the Southern Tower shaded, with Ariel’s blood.”

  Cally gasped and the rest of the group stared on at me as if I’d just slapped them. In a way, I guess I had.

  “I’m sorry,” I told them. “I really am. Believe me, it gets worse, so if you don’t think you’re up for hearing this…”

  “No,” Cally answered my hanging question quietly. “Go on. We have to know what happened.”

  “As long as you’re sure.” I looked on and continued only after they had all agreed. “In addition to the Pentacle, the words ‘All Is Forgiven’ were inscribed on the wall in the same manner. Also, a black candle and white candle had both been burned. A wine goblet was used, and,” I choked slightly, “it appears that Ariel’s blood was in it.”

  “What does it mean?” Shari asked. “What is this guy…”

  “…Some kind of vampire?” Jennifer finished.

  “I doubt it,” I answered. “I expect it’s just a sick twist he added to the spell.”

  “What spell?” Randy questioned.

  “An Expiation spell,” Felicity explained. “You might never have dealt with one before, but it is pretty basic. It’s a ritual performed in order to rid yourself of guilt and regrets. Kind of a self atonement spell.”

  “So you think whoever did it regretted killing Ariel?” Cally queried.

  “So it would seem,” Felicity answered.

  “That would mean you’re looking for a Witch then, right?” asked Randy.

  “Yes and no,” I told him. “It’s very likely that the killer practiced WitchCraft at some point in his life, and he’s obviously familiar with the Wiccan religion to a degree. The Expiation spell shows that, even if he did warp it hideously by using Ariel’s blood.” I paused to let my words settle in. “Based on the fact that he, for one, broke the basic rule of ‘Harm None,’ and for two, went through the motions of a blood sacrifice, I would say he fancies himself a ritual magician. A mage of the Black Arts.”

  “And that,” Ben sighed, “brings us back to why we asked you all to come here tonight. R.J. spoke with Rowan and me this mornin’, and I’m sure he’s told ya’ all about it.” He looked over at R.J. who dipped his head in an affirmative. “He gave us some information with regards to a Devon Johnston who was apparently hooked up with your group until recently.”

  “Have you found him yet?” R.J. asked

  “Not yet,” Ben answered, “but we’re lookin’.”

  “I understand that Devon was starting to play around with Black Arts and the like,” I stated. “Do any of you have any thoughts on that?”

  With the exception of a few questions, thus far, Ben and I had done the majority of the talking. Now, placing that burden upon the group elicited only an uneasy silence. The atmosphere might have been cleared, but the undercurrent of tension was still circulating slowly around the table.

  “What about you?” Ben urged, directing the question at Nancy. “You haven’t said two words since ya’ got here. You got an opinion on this guy?”

  “I didn’t know him that well,” she answered, appearing clearly apprehensive at being singled out. “I’m kind of new to the coven…I don’t really know.”

  “If you want my opinion,” Cally spoke up, protectively redirecting our attention. “I don’t think Devon could’ve done it.”

  “Why do you say that?” Felicity queried.

  “He’s a lot of talk, and no action.”

  “What about the invocation rite?” R.J. asked indignantly. “He sacrificed a dog. He showed it to all of us.”

  “A dog is one thing, R.J.,” Cally retorted. “But a human being? Besides, he wouldn’t harm a hair on Ariel’s head. He was crazy about her.”

  “Excuse me?” Ben chimed and gave her a look of great interest.

  “That’s right.” She turned her attention to him. “The guy was madly in love with her. It just about destroyed him that she voted to cast him out of the coven.”

  “How do you know this?” I asked.

  “He told me himself.”

  “When?” I urged.

  “He called me the night after the coven meeting.”

  “Why did he call you?” Felicity asked. “I thought it was a unanimous vote, which would mean you voted him out as well.”

  “True,” Cally answered. “But I guess he figured I would still talk to him. He’s my cousin.”

  “Your cousin?” Ben interposed.

  “Not a blood relation,” she added quickly. “I’m adopted. I can’t say that he’s my favorite relative in the world, and what he did to that dog makes me ill, but I don’t see him killing Ariel. He had it bad for her.”

  I noticed R.J.’s face was creased with a tight-lipped frown, and he appeared to be stewing. With every word that came out of her mouth, his temperature seemed to rise.

  “Anyone else?” Ben asked. “What about you two?” He motioned to the twins, Shari and Jennifer.

  “He was in love with Ariel all right…” Shari told us.

  “…You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out,” Jennifer chimed in.

  “So you don’t think he was capable of killing her?” I questioned.

  “Maybe,” Jennifer answered.

  “I don’t know,” stated Shari.

  “He was a little weird if you ask me,” Randy spoke up.

  “I’m askin’ you,” Ben told him. “You wanna elaborate on that?”

  “I dunno,” Randy proceeded nervously. “He just struck me as kinda odd. He didn’t talk much, but he was really into the whole ritual thing, you know?”

  “Go on,” I prodded.

  “Well,” Randy continued, “I’ve been practicing for about six years now, and I don’t know about you,” he focused on Felicity then me, “but I was under the impression that Wicca is really about ‘deeds not words’ you know? Like, the ritual is just a tool and not the main focus of the religion.”

  “That’s how we look at it,” Felicity told him.

  “Well, not Devon,” he told us. “The ritual was it for him. If it wasn’t exactly perfect, then as far as he was concerned it wasn’t worth doing.”

  “Randy’s right about that,” Cally said. “He spent all kinds of time rehearsing rituals for Sabbats.”

  “He even got real upset with me at a circle once…” Shari intoned.

  “…Because she didn’t recite something exactly like he wrote it,” Jennifer added.

  “See!” R.J. finally burst. “You all agree that something was wrong with the guy. And Rowan just said that whoever did this was into rituals.”

  “You’re just jealous, R.J.” Jennifer spat.

  “What have I got to be jealous of?!” He was practically out of his chair now.

  “Come off it, R.J.,” Shari told him. “Everyone knows you had the hots for Ariel too.”

  “Sure we do,” Cally interjected. “You followed her around like a lost puppy.”

  “Shut up, Cally!” R.J. shouted.

  “Or what?” she baited.

  “Stop it all of you!” Felicity was on her feet. “This is ridiculous. Your friend… Your sister in The Craft has been murdered, and you’re sitting here arguing like school children! Rowan and I studied with Ariel. I know damn well she thought better of you, or she never would have stood in circle with you then!”

  The room fell silent. Each member of the group looked self-consciously about the room as the gravity of Felicity’s words set in. Chairs made shuffling noises as they shifted in their seats and shamefully realized she was correct.

  “Okay,” Ben inserted his voice into the silence. “Now that that is finished… Did Miz Tanner happen ta’ mention to any of ya’ that she may have a reason to fear for her life?”

  Heads swiveled back and forth indicating the negative amidst soberly mumbled “No’s” and “Not to me’s.�
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  “Out of curiosity,” I queried, “do you have any other former members, and have you had trouble with any of them getting involved in things they shouldn’t?”

  “Not really,” Cally expressed. “At least I don’t think so.”

  “You haven’t kicked anyone else out?” Ben posed.

  “No,” she replied.

  “How about members leaving of their own accord?” Felicity interjected. “Has that happened recently?”

  “There was Stacey and Roger,” Shari piped up.

  “And Will,” Jennifer added. “But they all left a few months ago.”

  Ben noted the names with his quick scribbling. “Did they leave on good terms?”

  “Pretty much so, I guess,” Randy, answered. “Will moved to Florida for his job, or I’m sure he’d still be with us.”

  Nods of agreement circled the table at his comment.

  “What about the other two?” I pressed. “Stacey and Roger was it?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “They just stopped showing up.”

  “Ariel said Stacey was just a poser,” Cally explained. “Once she found out that she wasn’t going to learn how to cast a spell on her ex-boyfriend, she lost interest. We figured Roger was just there because of her, because as soon as she stopped coming, so did he.”

  There was nothing unusual about having a poser enter and leave a coven. Some individuals would attempt to embrace the Wiccan religion based entirely upon their misconceptions about it. When they discovered that The Craft was about a harmonious existence with nature and NOT about “casting spells upon your enemies,” they would become almost instantly disenchanted. Just like the two individuals that had just been described, a poser would simply and harmlessly go away.

  As if on cue, the end of Cally’s statement was punctuated by a quiet, evenly spaced, electronic beep that became increasingly louder with each pulse.

  “Can I use your phone?” Ben asked me, switching off his pager.

  “Sure,” I replied. “You want to use the one in the bedroom?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “You know where it is.”

  The tension had ebbed once again, and Felicity took her seat at the table once more. The group started muttering apologies to one another, and faces were starting to break back into weak smiles.

  “Hey, Rowan,” Ben called from the bedroom down the hall. “Can I talk to ya’ for a minute?”

  I excused myself and made my way back to where he was. We spoke in hushed tones, and he explained to me what the phone call had been all about. After listening attentively to what he had to say, I called for Felicity to come back and join us. I heard her excuse herself and tell the group she would only be gone a moment, then seconds later she entered the room and shut the door behind her.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Do you think you can take over here and get these kids to comprehend what it means for a Witch to cross over?” I asked her gravely. “I need to go with Ben.”

  “Why?” She bolted up from her relaxed position. “What’s wrong?”

  “That page was from my lieutenant,” Ben answered. “The Major Case Squad is taking over the investigation… Rowan was right, it looks like this psycho hit again.”

  CHAPTER 6

  A predicted weather system had been moving in throughout the afternoon and evening, and before Ben and I left for the crime scene, a warm, gentle rain had begun to fall. Felicity, though not happy about being left behind, realized the importance of looking after the spiritual well being of the group seated at our dining table and immediately shifted into a nurturing maternal mode. Six pairs of questioning eyes fell upon us as Ben donned his sport coat and announced that we were leaving.

  “Who is it?” Cally asked.

  “We don’t know yet,” he told her. “I just got the call.”

  “Where did it happen?” Randy intoned.

  “The body was found in a park here in the county,” Ben stated irritably. “That’s all I know until we get there. You ready yet Rowan?” He gave me an anxious look.

  “In a sec…” I answered.

  Felicity was stuffing a small camera bag with various pieces of equipment and film I had requested. The fact that she made her living as a professional photographer afforded me the luxury of having a better than average camera on hand whenever the need arose.

  “I thought you were a city cop,” R.J. announced. “Why are you investigating a murder out here in the county?”

  “Normally a muni would handle its own case load,” Ben stated, noticing that I still wasn’t prepared to leave. “But this crime got flagged ‘cause of the similarity to the Tanner case. Ya’see, back in nineteen eighty-one, the Greater Saint Louis Major Case Squad was formed as a multi-jurisdictional task force. Pretty much it’s a collective of departments around the Metro area that investigates highly publicized or related crimes. Ariel’s murder was my case, and so now that they have been given jurisdiction over it, I’ve been temporarily re-assigned to head up the investigation. I go wherever the scene is.”

  “Here,” Felicity was telling me. “You’ve got the PZ-1 with a 28-to-80 and macro. It’s loaded with high speed transparency, and I put fresh batteries in it and the Sunpak.”

  “Thanks,” I said and kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

  “Don’t worry,” she answered. “I’ll take care of everything here.”

  While waiting for me, Ben quickly jotted down everyone’s phone numbers in order to contact them with any further questions and then handed out his business cards. We expressed hurried goodbyes to the overwhelmed group and hastily headed out into the dense melancholy of the stormy night. I pulled Felicity aside on the front porch as she saw us out, lagging for a moment behind Ben who had already ventured forth into the rain and was starting his van.

  “Look, I don’t know if you noticed or not,” I stated, “but Salinger and Dickens seem to have some kind of problem with R.J.”

  “Don’t worry,” she answered. “I’m sure you’re just being overly suspicious because of everything that’s going on. It’ll be okay.”

  “I just want you to be careful,” I continued.

  “I’ll be fine,” she admonished. “Now go, then. Ben’s waiting.”

  I watched her wave to us then turn and go into the house as we backed out of the driveway. I wasn’t sure that she was correct, but then, after all that I had been through, it was possible that I had become more suspicious than usual. Maybe Ben was rubbing off on me. In any case, I knew my wife well, and she would be just fine. I also knew that she had almost instant access to a loaded Ruger. 357 magnum, for neither of us was naive enough to think that the rest of the world believed as we do. The very concept of “live and let live” seemed almost alien to the general populous anymore, and the headlines of the newspaper or a quick glance at the evening news gave testimony to that fact. At Ben’s urging, for our own protection, Felicity and I had purchased the weapon and been rigorously trained in its proper use by him. If it came down to a matter of life or death, I was certain my wife wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

  “So,” I asked Ben as we motored down the street, its shiny wetness reflecting the glare of the streetlights. “Exactly where are we headed?”

  “Some park called Thayer,” he answered. “You know where it is?”

  “Yeah, it’s not far from here. Hang a right at the next stop sign.”

  We arrived at the park and turned in to the main access road, following it past the ball field and darkened pavilions. Ben had placed a magnetic bubble light atop the van and plugged it into the cigarette lighter receptacle as we entered. The red light flickered eerily across the face of the uniformed officer at the gate and reflected brightly from his rain-slicked yellow poncho. Ben rolled down the window and held out his ID to the officer, who illuminated it with the bright beam of a three cell Mag-Lite.

  “Evening
, Detective,” he said and brought the beam to bear on me. “Who’s that with you?”

  “Consultant,” Ben answered him authoritatively.

  The sodden officer nodded and pointed the long flashlight up the road. Its beam, though powerful, eventually dissipated into the murky darkness.

  “Just over that rise, sir,” he told Ben. “Then about two hundred yards. Evidence unit is all over the place, you can’t miss it.”

  Ben thanked him and rolled up his window, pushing the van into motion up the slight grade. The wind and rain were beginning to pick up, and a few distant flashes in the western sky were testimony to a rapidly approaching thunderstorm.

  “Look behind your seat,” Ben was telling me as we topped the rise. “Should be some rain slickers back there.”

  I turned in the seat and rummaged about in the dark. My hand brushed against what felt like a gym bag, and I yanked it from beneath the seat and tugged on the zipper.

  “In this bag back here?” I asked.

  “Yeah, prob’ly.”

  I could feel the van slowing and pitching slightly to the left as Ben took a wide turn into a parking space and brought us to a halt. I quickly found the rain ponchos I sought and with them in hand, turned back around in my seat.

  The spectacle outside the windshield was illuminated like a toppled-over Christmas tree stuck in overdrive. Red lights, blue lights, and white lights on emergency vehicles, even yellow caution lights on sawhorses blinked randomly in the night. The lack of sync in the pulses seemed to bring even more chaos to what appeared to be an already disordered scene.

  Ben reached out and grabbed one of the slickers from my motionless hand, taking notice of my blank stare and mouth agape.

  “Welcome to my world,” he told me, then paused. “Sucks don’t it? Go ahead an’ put your poncho on.”

  I broke from the short stupor and began pulling the yellow plastic rain gear over my head. The extra room in the cab of the van made me realize why Ben refused to get rid of the decrepit vehicle.