M Sellars - Never Burn A Witch

Both Carl and I could still hear Ben’s voice and with only a little effort were able to make out everything he was saying. Starr, on the other hand, was too distraught to notice much of what was going on around her. Considering the subject matter of his conversations, doubtless that was for the best.

There was a short pause while, I assume, he was listening to the person on the other end of the cell phone. I almost didn’t need my heightened senses to feel his impatience-it was simply that palpable.

“I don’t get this! Am I just not makin’ myself clear to you or somethin’? Do ya’ want me to say it slower, is that it?” he spat sarcastically into the phone. “Listen close. A prominent member of your quiet little community here just might be the target of a serial killer. What I want is for you to get a uniform over here and give ‘er some protection! It’s that simple! Uh-huh… Yeah… Well tell ya’ what then, why don’tcha put someone on the line who can help me.”

While we waited, Starr went upstairs to check in on Karyl. She returned briefly, having elected not to inform her of Brianna’s death as yet, and told us that the young woman was resting peacefully in the bedroom. Earlier, she admitted, the help of a recently prescribed sedative had been necessary to calm the overwrought blonde, and now it seemed senseless and cruel to wake her only to give her another dose of heartbreaking news. I was inclined to agree.

“Is there someone you’d like us to call for you?” Carl asked in a soothing voice. “A relative? A friend maybe?”

“No. No one, Detective.” She shook her head. “Thank you for offering.”

“Can we get you anything?” I queried and shrugged. “A glass of water? Coffee? Aspirin?”

“No… Yes… Yes, Mister Gant, you could.” She pointed across the room. “There is some brandy in that cupboard.”

At Starr’s request I poured her a stiff ration of the liquor from the heirloom cabinet bar in the corner. Judging from the label on the bottle and the cork that sealed it, the brandy was in reality a rather pricey cognac. She sipped it eagerly, almost gulping at first. Remembering my recent and similar actions with a bottle of bourbon, I urged her to slow down. She nodded, realizing through her distress that I was correct, and set the crystal snifter aside with at least a small amount of the expensive spirits left in it.

Momentarily, she rummaged about in the drawer of an end table then withdrew a small rectangular box and opened it.

“I have to keep them hidden,” she told us with a small, sorrowful laugh as she placed a cigarette between her lips, “Karyl thinks I quit… But I’m sure she knows.”

Carl and I simply nodded mutely and watched her light it with trembling hands.

“Well frankly I don’t give two shits about your goddamned contract!” Ben’s voice echoed into the room as he tersely erupted out in the corridor, “Right now I’ve got two bodies down at the morgue. One of ‘em was thrown off a balcony and the other one was… No, YOU wait just a minute!” his voice rose in pitch again. One thing you never did to Ben Storm was to interrupt him.

His tone lowered to a simmering “I mean business” tenor and he continued, “Look, number one-both of these women were tortured before they were killed. Number two-we have reason to believe the killer is targeting persons with alternative religions. And finally, number three-both of them were members of the same small religious group-the same one that two of your local residents are members of. Now for me, that sets off some alarms. What about you?”

He paused for a moment, and I heard him let out an exasperated huff.

“Yeah… Yeah… Well why don’t ya’ do that… Uh-huh, well trust me, I will… Yeah, I’ll be sure to let Ms. Winston know just exactly how concerned you folks are for her welfare… Yeah, same to ya’.”

We heard him close the flap on the portable phone with an angry snap that was followed immediately by a disgusted mumble, “…And the fuckin’ horse you rode in on, too, ya’ lousy sonofabitch.”

I caught Carl’s eye and jerked my head toward the room’s entrance. He nodded acknowledgement and gave the anguished young woman next to him a fatherly pat on the shoulder.

“Will you be okay for a bit, Ms. Winston?” he asked as she broke her hollow stare and looked up at him. “Rowan and I need to talk to Detective Storm for just a minute.”

“Yes…yes, Detective, I’ll be fine,” she answered mechanically.

“We’ll just be right outside the door,” he added and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before joining me to crowd into the narrow passageway.

“That didn’t sound good,” I remarked in a near whisper as I wedged myself through and leaned against a doorjamb. “What did they say?”

“Awww, they’re all fucked up,” Ben replied, still seething from the conversation with the uncooperative Lansbury Police Department. “They don’t wanna send anyone over unless I can tell ‘em who’s gonna pay for it.”

“Pay for it?” I was confused.

“Lansbury is pretty small,” Carl explained. “Their police department isn’t really a police department per se. Truthfully, it’s not much more than a handful of rent-a-cops hired out through a third-party security firm. All they’re ever worried about is money.”

“So what are you going to do?” I appealed.

“Well, they’re still inside the county, so technically we have jurisdiction…” he mused. “Of course, we’re stretched pretty thin as it is…”

Ben reached up and smoothed his hair back then let his large hand rest on the back of his neck. Slowly his fingers started working on a tense knot at the base, and he grimaced thoughtfully, “Yeah, Carl, I know. Right now I’ve got Martin and Kelly back at the command post contactin’ everyone on the list she gave us.” He cocked his head toward the other room to indicate Starr.

“From what we can tell so far, it looks like they all live in areas with real coppers,” he detailed. “That’ll help a lot, so there shouldn’t be much fuss about gettin’ police protection for ‘em. Of course, they haven’t reached everyone on the list yet.”

He continued working the back of his neck with his large hand and puffed his cheeks out with a fatigued sigh.

“Jeezus, what a mess!” he finally exclaimed. “I guess it’s gonna be up ta’ us to keep watch over these two.”

“How are the higher ups going to feel about you playing bodyguard?” I asked, “Seems to me they get a little concerned over budgets too.”

“Lemme ask you this,” He stared directly into my face and raised an eyebrow, “Do you think this asshole might come after another one of the women in this group?”

“Well, Starr did say that no one else has received any threats,” I offered.

“That she knew of.” He qualified my statement and thrust his index finger at me. “But that’s not what I asked ya’.”

I took a moment to weigh the facts before I replied, “You can’t entirely rule out the possibility that he might go after someone else. Like I’ve said before, there are a lot of Pagans in this city, and I still believe that the eradication of Witches is this guy’s main focus. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be going about the murders in the manner he has so far.”

I let out my own troubled sigh. Ben was seeking my advice, and my nagging doubts were keeping me from giving a singular commitment to this avenue of thought. I knew he was depending on me, and I didn’t want to let him down.

“I suppose I would have to agree though that by killing two members of the same Coven, he’s established something of a pattern. I don’t want to put all the eggs in one basket, but in answer to your question… yes, I think it is very likely that he will target another member of this circle.”