M Sellars: Harm none

“We didn’t know how long he had actually been practicing Black Arts, but he really got a big head about it.” R.J. squirmed a little more against the biting handcuffs then continued. “He started bragging about an invocation rite and even showed us where he had done it.”

“What did he sacrifice?” I asked, knowing what the ritual implied.

“A dog,” R.J. spat, showing a flash of disgust. “He said he got it from the pound. It made all of us sick, but Ariel took it the worst. She felt like she had failed or something.”

“That’s a Pisces for you,” I told him. “I remember how she used to beat herself up over what she considered her own failings.”

“It wasn’t long after that when we held our Full Moon meeting. Devon was unanimously cast out of the coven.” He looked back to Ben as if a sudden rush of anger had displaced his fear of his own current situation. “He told us we would regret it.”

“So ya’think Devon is the one who did this to Ariel?” Ben interjected.

“It has to be,” he replied. “He was mad at all of us but especially with Ariel. If what Rowan said is true about her murder being connected to The Craft…”

“What’s his last name?” Ben cut him off.

“Johnston. Devon Johnston. He lives over in South City.”

Ben wrote down the information as R.J. relayed it to him and then looked up from his notebook. I caught his eye and motioned for him to step out of the car with me. He nodded and shoved his door open wider.

“We’ll be right back,” I told R.J. as I pushed against my own door. “I know this hurts man. I know it’s tearing you up inside… I’m feeling it too. Ground and center, you’ll feel better.”

He nodded, and even as I exited the car, he began to consciously slow his breathing just as he had been taught.

“What do you think?” I asked Ben over the roof of the vehicle, keeping my voice low.

He squinted and held up his notebook to shade his eyes. “I think there’s somethin’ he’s not tellin’ us,” he answered me in his own quiet tone. “He was kinda hesitant when I asked him about where he was Wednesday night… Not ta’ mention the fact that he has a key. What about you?”

“I picked up on that too, but honestly I think he’s just a scared kid. What about his story on that Devon Johnston guy? If he actually did sacrifice an animal then a human could be the next logical progression.”

“Yeah, I definitely wanna have a chat with Mister Johnston.”

“If you’re game,” I submitted after a moments pause, “I’d like to try something.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to talk to the rest of the coven members.” I continued, “Get an idea of their feelings about Devon. And,” I added, “THEIR stories about what happened at that Full Moon meeting.”

“You think the kid’s makin’ it up?” Ben asked. “You’re startin’ ta’ sound like a copper.”

“I don’t really think that he’s making it up, but I think his judgment may be a bit left of center,” I answered. “Actually, what I do think is that he was in love with Ariel Tanner.”

“Where the hell’d you come up with that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, I’d actually like to talk to them anyway, so I guess we can get their names from him and call them downtown,” he suggested.

“No.” I shook my head. “I think that might make them a little too uncomfortable, and they’d just clam up. Remember, you’re dealing with a group of Witches here. We’re already persecuted enough.”

“You got a better idea?”

“I want to let R.J. make the calls and get them over to my place,” I recited my idea. “A nice, informal atmosphere where we can talk Witch to Witch.”

“I don’t know…” Ben started.

“I want you there too,” I added, stopping him before he could finish his objection. “I just don’t want to spook these people. I’m pretty sure that I know their type a little better than you do. Remember, I’m one of them.”

Ben paused then smoothed his hair back, letting his hand rest at the back of his neck, his telltale physical manifestation of intense thought. I knew that he was concerned about what he considered to be an unorthodox approach to the investigation, but it had lost its normalcy the moment he asked for my advice. I also knew that he was still skeptical about the entire concept of WitchCraft, even with what he had witnessed so far today.

“Okay,” he finally told me. “When do ya’ wanna do this?”

“Tonight if at all possible,” I replied.

He nodded and then frowned. “Yeah. Sooner the better. Shit! Allison’s gonna have my ass.”

“So what’s new about that?”

I opened the door to the patrol car and squatted down next to it. R.J. looked over at me, as the sound had apparently startled him.

“Do you think you can get in touch with all of the coven members pretty quickly?” I asked him.

“Sure. Why?”

“I want to get everyone together over at my place this evening if we can.” I continued, “We really need to talk about what’s happened, and the more information we can get, the quicker the cops can catch whoever killed Ariel.”

“But…” R.J. started.

“I know, R.J.,” I interrupted. “I know you think that Devon did it, and what he’s getting himself into is some sick shit, I agree. But, right now there’s no proof it was him. Believe me, they plan to pick him up and question him.” He settled back in the seat as I talked. “We have to help the police, man. Not fight against them. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded after a short silence and then hung his chin down to his chest.

“We’re on,” I told Ben as I stood up.

My friend nodded and stepped to the driver’s door of the squad car. He opened it and reached in to the controls near the dash. He punched a button and the light bar atop the roof blinked to life. The pre-arranged signal quickly caught the eye of the officer belonging to the vehicle, and he was soon making his way back toward us from the coffee shop across the street.

After signaling the patrolman, Ben got in the back seat momentarily and unlocked the handcuffs that were restraining R.J.

“I’m gonna have the officer drop ya’ off at your car,” he told him. “You’ve got a real friend in Rowan here, so don’t fuck it up and pull any shit this time.”

R.J. nodded quietly and rubbed his wrists where the restraints had bit into his skin.

“Here.” I held out a business card to him. “This is Detective Storm’s card. My number and address are on the back. Tell them we’ll have sandwiches and the like so they can eat there. Say we set everything up for about seven tonight? Sound good?”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Stay grounded.” I smiled at him. “We’ll work this out.”

Ben returned the handcuffs to the patrolman and instructed him to return R.J. to his vehicle. We both thanked him for his time and watched them pull away before making the short trek across the parking lot to the van. It was coming up on noon, and I was starting to fade. Exhaustion, not only from the lack of sleep but from the mental trauma of channeling Ariel’s murder, was taking its toll.

“You really think the kid’s gonna show?” Ben asked me, looking quickly each way then nosing the van out into the traffic.

“Yeah.” I slumped in my seat. “He’ll show. I’m sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right,” he told me as we entered the flow and came to a halt at a signal that had just winked to crimson. “Ya’know, Rowan,” he said after a pause, still looking straight ahead. “If I didn’t know ya’ better, I’d have ta’ consider ya’ a suspect.”

“Because of everything I told you this morning at Ariel’s apartment,” I stated matter-of-factly.