Ceremony in Death

by J. D. Robb

  “You told no one?”

  “He was my father, it was my life.” Chas lifted his hands, let them fall. “Who was I to tell?”

  Neither had she told anyone, Eve thought. Neither had she had anyone to tell.

  “And for quite a while, I believed him when he said it was just.” Chas’s eyes flickered. “And I certainly believed him when he told me there would be terrible pain and terrible punishment if I said anything. I was thirteen when he sodomized me for the first time. It was a ritual, he told me, when he bound my hands and I wept. A rite of passage. Sex was life. It was necessary to take it. He would take me on the journey as was his duty and his right.”

  He picked up the tea pot, poured, set it neatly aside. “I don’t know if it was rape. I didn’t struggle. I didn’t beg him to stop. I simply cried without sound and submitted.”

  “It was rape,” Peabody said, and her voice was very quiet.

  “Well…” He found he couldn’t drink the tea he’d just poured but lifted the cup, held it. “I told no one. Even years later when they had him in a cage, I didn’t tell the police. I didn’t believe they would hold him. I simply didn’t believe they could. He was too strong, too powerful, and all the blood on his hands seemed to add to it. Oddly enough, it was the sex that pushed my mother to run, and take me. Not the violence, not the little boy with broken bones or even the deaths I think she knew he’d caused. It was the sight of him kneeling over me on his altar, with the black candles lit. He didn’t see her, but I did. I saw her face when she stepped into the room. She left me there, let him finish with me, and that night when he went out, we ran.”

  “And still she didn’t go to the police.”

  “No.” He looked at Eve. “I know you believe if she had, lives might have been saved. But fear is a very personal emotion. Survival was her only goal. When they arrested him, I went to the trial, every day. I was sure he would stop it somehow. Even when they said they would lock him away, I still didn’t believe. I erased his name, and I tried to slip into normality. I took a job that interested me, that I had some talent for. And I allowed myself to get close to no one. There was a rage in me. I would look at a face and hate it because it was happy. Or it was sad. I hated them all for their unshadowed existence. And like my father, I didn’t stay in one place very long. And when I found myself considering suicide again with great calm and great seriousness, I was frightened enough to seek help.”

  He was able to smile again. “It was, though I didn’t realize it at the time, the beginning for me, taking that step, allowing myself to speak the unspeakable. I learned to accept my own innocence, and to forgive my mother. But the rage was still there, this hard, secret knot inside me. Then I met Isis.”

  “Through your interest in the occult,” Eve prompted.

  “Through my study of it, as part of my therapy.” He drank his tea now, and his lips were curved. “I was angry and rude. Religion of any kind was an abomination to me, and I detested what she stood for. She was so beautiful, so full of light. I hated her for that. She challenged me to come to a ceremony, to observe much as you did last night. I preferred to think of myself as a scientist. I would go, I thought, to prove there was nothing in her faith but old words repeated by fools. Just as there had been nothing in my father’s creed but an excuse to hurt and dominate.

  “I stood back, separate, cynical, and secretly enraged. I hated them for their simplicity and their devotion. Hadn’t I seen that same captured look on the faces of those who’d gathered to hear my father speak? I wanted nothing to do with it, with them, but I was drawn back. Three times I went back and watched, and though I didn’t know it, I had begun to heal. And one night, on Alban Eilir, the Spring Equinox, Isis asked me into her home. When we were alone, she told me that she had recognized me. I panicked. I’d tried so hard to bury all of that, all of him. She said she hadn’t meant from this life, though I could see in her eyes that she knew. She knew who I was, what I’d come from. She told me I had a great capacity for healing, and I would discover it once I had healed myself. Then she seduced me.”

  He gave a short laugh, and in it was great warmth. “Imagine my surprise when this beautiful woman led me to her bed. I went along like a puppy, half eager, half terrified. She was the first woman I’d had, and the only one I’ve been with. And on the night of the Spring Equinox, that hard, secret knot inside me began to dissolve.

  “She loves me. And the miracle of that made me believe in other miracles. I became Wiccan, I embraced and was embraced by the craft. I learned to heal myself and others. The only person I’ve ever harmed in my life has been myself. But I understand better than Isis with all her insights, the lure of violence, of selfishness, of bowing to another master.”

  She believed him, yet too much of his past mirrored her own for her to trust her instincts. “You’ve gone to a great deal of effort to hide your connection with your father.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Did Alice know?”

  “Alice was innocence. She was youth. There were no David Baines Conroys in her life. Until Selina Cross.”

  “And Cross is an intelligent and vindictive woman. If she’d discovered your secret, she might have used Alice, and others, to blackmail you. Would the members of your cult trust you if they knew your history?”

  “Since that’s never been tested, I don’t have the answer. I’d prefer, certainly, to keep my privacy.”

  “And on the night Alice was killed, you were here. Alone with Isis.”

  “Yes, and we were here, alone, on the night Lobar was killed. You know I was on hand at the last murder, again with Isis. And yes.” He smiled slightly. “I have no doubt she would lie for me. But while she would live with a murderer’s son, she would never live with a murderer. It’s against everything she is.”

  “She loves you.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you love her.”

  “Yes.” He blinked, and horror filled his eyes. “You can’t believe she’d have a part in any of this, beyond the fact that she loved Alice, cared for her as a mother would a sick child. She’s incapable of hurting anyone.”

  “Mr. Forte, everyone is capable.”

  “You don’t think he’s involved,” Peabody said as they started down the outside stairs.

  “There’s history of aberrant behavior in his family. He has an expert knowledge of chemicals, including hallucinogens and herbals. He has no alibi for any of the incidents. He was associated with Alice, closely enough that she may have stumbled across the secret he’s been hiding for years, and that exposed, could destroy his cult.”

  She paused, tapping her fingers against the rail as she ticked off her mental list. “He has good reason to hate Selina Cross and her membership, to want to punish them as he couldn’t punish his father. He was on hand when Wineburg started to break, and could have easily circled around and killed him. That gives him motive and opportunity, and with his background, the potential for violent behavior.”

  “He’s made himself a decent life after a nightmare childhood,” Peabody protested. “You can’t condemn him for what his father did.”

  Eve stared out at the street and fought her own demons. “I’m not condemning him, Peabody, I’m investigating every possibility. Consider this.” She turned. “If Alice knew, and told Frank, his reaction might very well have been to demand she break off the connection. It’s likely, following this line of speculation, that he confronted Forte himself, even threatened him with exposure if he didn’t break off his influence. He was in Homicide when Conroy was taken in, and he’d have known and remembered every filthy detail.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And Alice moved into her own place. She continued to work part time for Isis, but she no longer lived here. Why did she move out, away from here, when she was afraid?”

  “I don’t know,” Peabody admitted.

  “And we can’t ask her.” Eve turned back, started down the stairs again, then swore when she saw the boy l
eaning on her vehicle. “Well, hell.”

  She strode down, straight over to Jamie. “Get your butt off my hood. This is an official vehicle.”

  “An official piece of shit,” he corrected with a quick, sassy grin. “The city puts you cops into recycled garbage heaps. A high-profile detective like you ought to have better.”

  “I’ll tell the chief you said so next time I’m in the Tower. What are you doing here?”

  “Just hanging.” His grin flashed again. “And I ditched the shadow you put on me. He’s good.” Jamie tucked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’m better.”

  “Why aren’t you in school?”

  “Don’t bother to call the Truant Brigade, Lieutenant, it’s Saturday.”

  How the hell was she supposed to keep track? “Then why aren’t you terrorizing one of the sky malls like a normal delinquent?”

  His grin spread. “I hate sky malls. They’re so yesterday. Caught you on Channel 75.”

  “Did you drop by for my autograph?”

  “You scrawl it on a credit slip, I could outfit this heap of yours and make it rock.” He looked past her toward the shop. “I got a load of the witch through the glass. She’s doing some heavy retail today.”

  Eve glanced back, noted the customers browsing inside. “You’ve seen her before.”

  “Yeah, couple times when I tailed Alice.”

  “Ever see anything interesting?”

  “Nope. Everybody’s always wearing clothes in there.” He wiggled his brows. “A guy has to hope. I studied up on Wicca. They liked to be naked a lot. Did see the head witch kick a guy out of the shop once.”

  “Really.” It was Eve’s turn to lean on the hood. “Why?”

  “Couldn’t say, but she was maximum pissed. I could see they were having words, and I thought she was going to belt him. Especially when he shoved her.”

  “He shoved her.”

  “Yeah. I thought about going in then, though she was a hell of a lot bigger than he was. Still, guys got no business pushing women around. But whatever she said had him backing off. Backing way off until he was backing right out of the door. And he went off in a big hurry.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Skinny dude, five ten, maybe a hundred and twenty-five. Couple years older than me. Long black hair, red tips. Long face, with his incisors fanged. Red eyes. Light complexion. Turned out in tight black leather, no shirt, couple of tattoos, but I was too far away to make them out.”

  He shot her a smile, grim around the edges. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Last time I saw him, he wasn’t looking so jazzy.”

  Lobar, Eve thought, exchanging a glance with Peabody. The kid had given a solid and nearly professional description. “And when was this? When did you see the incident?”

  “The day—” His voice cracked a little, so he cleared his throat. “The day before Alice died.”

  “And what did Isis do after Lobar?”

  “She made a call. Couple minutes later the dude she lives with came on the run. They talked for a couple minutes, real intense, then she put up the Closed sign and they went into the back room. Ticked me off,” he added. “I could have followed the leather guy.”

  “You want to stop tailing people, Jamie. They make you, they tend to get annoyed.”

  “People I tail don’t make me. I’m too good.”

  “You thought you were good at B and E too,” she reminded him dryly and watched as his color rose.

  “That was different. Look, the guy that was stabbed, he was right there, at Alice’s viewing. It has to be connected, to her, to that Lobar creep, and I got a right to know.”

  She straightened. “Are you requesting the status of my investigation?”

  “Yeah, yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes skyward. “What’s the status of your investigation?”

  “Ongoing,” she said shortly, then jerked a thumb. “Now, scram.”

  “I got a right to know,” he insisted. “Survivors of victims, and all that.”

  “You’re the grandson of a cop,” she reminded him. “You know I’m not going to tell you anything. And you’re a minor. I don’t have to tell you anything. Now, go play somewhere else, kid, before I have Peabody here roust you for loitering.”

  The muscles of his jaw tightened and jumped. “I’m not a kid. And if you don’t deal with Alice’s killer, I will.”

  Eve snagged his arm by the jacket before he could storm away. “Don’t cross the line,” she said very quietly. She kept her face close to his, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. “You want justice, you’ll get it. I’ll by God get it for you. You want revenge, I’ll slap you in a cage. You remember what Frank stood for, and what your sister was, and then you think it all through again. Now, get out of here.”

  “I loved them.” He jerked his arm free, but not before she saw tears rush into his eyes. “Fuck your justice. And fuck you.”

  She let him walk because, though the language had been an adult’s, the tears had been a child’s.

  “The kid’s hurting,” Peabody murmured.

  “I know.” So was she now. “Tail him, will you, just to be sure he doesn’t get in any trouble. Give it thirty minutes, until he calms down, then beep your location. I’ll pick you up.”

  “You going to talk to Isis?”

  “Yeah, let’s see what she and Lobar had to say to each other. Oh, and Peabody, watch your step. Jamie’s a clever kid. If he made one of Roarke’s men, he’s likely to make you.”

  Peabody flashed a smile. “I think I can manage to tail a kid for a few blocks.”

  Trusting her aide to keep Jamie out of trouble, Eve walked into Spirit Quest. The air swam with incense and the scented melted wax from dozens of candles. The October sun was strong and gleamed in shooting colors through hanging prisms.

  The look Isis sent her held none of that exotic welcome.

  “You’ve finished with Chas, Lieutenant?”

  “For now. I’d like a few minutes.”

  Isis turned to answer a question from a customer on a blend of herbs to enhance memory. “Steep it for five minutes,” Isis told her. “Then strain it. You’ll need to drink it daily for at least a week. If it doesn’t help, let me know.” She turned her head back to Eve. “As you can see, this is a bad time.”

  “I’ll be quick. I’m just curious about the visit you had from Lobar here, a few days before he ended up with his throat slashed.”

  She’d kept her voice down, but left her intention clear. They would talk, in private, or in public. The location was up to Isis.

  “I don’t think I misjudged you,” Isis said quietly, “but you make me doubt myself.” She signaled to a young woman Eve recognized from the initiation rite. “Jane will handle the customers,” Isis said as she started toward the back room. “But I don’t want to leave her long. She’s very new at shop work.”

  “Alice’s replacement.”

  Isis’s eyes burned. “No one could replace Alice.”

  She entered what appeared to be a combination of office and storeroom. On the reinforced plastic shelves were gargoyles, candles, sealed bins of dried herbs, clear stoppered bottles filled with liquids of varying hues.

  On the small desk was a very modern and efficient computer and communication system. “Jazzy equipment,” Eve commented. “Very now.”

  “We don’t eschew technology, Lieutenant. We adapt, and we use what is available to us. It’s always been so.” She gestured to a chair with a high, carved back, took another for herself, one with armrests shaped like wings. “You said you would be quick. But first I need to know if you intend to leave Chas in peace.”

  “My priority is closing a case, not the peace of mind of a suspect.”

  “How could you suspect him?” Her hands curled around the armrests as she leaned forward. “You, of all people, know what he’s overcome.”

  “If his past is relevant—”

  “Is yours?” Isis demanded. “Is the fact that you survived a nightmare t
o your credit or to your detriment?”

  “My past is my business,” Eve said evenly, “and you know nothing about it.”

  “What comes to me, comes in flashes and impressions. Stronger in some cases than others. I know you suffered and were innocent. Just as Chas is. I know you carry scars and harbor doubts. As he does. I know you struggle to make your own peace. And I see a room.”

  Her voice changed, deepened, just as her eyes did. “A small, cold room washed with dirty red light. And a child, battered and bleeding, huddled in a corner. The pain is unspeakable, beyond endurance. And I see a man. He’s covered with blood. His face is—”

  “Stop it.” Eve’s heart was hammering, choking off her air. For a moment, she’d been back there, back in that child who’d crawled whimpering like an animal into the corner with blood staining her hands. “Damn you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Isis lifted a hand to press it to her own heart, and it trembled. “I’m so very sorry. That’s not my way. I let anger take over.” She shut her eyes tight. “I’m so very sorry.”

  chapter seventeen

  Eve lurched out of the chair. There was no room to pace, to prowl, to steam off the dregs of memory. “I’m aware,” she began coldly, “that you have what is commonly called heightened psychic skill. HPS is still being studied. I have a report on my desk right now. So you’ve got a talent, Isis. Congratulations. Now, stay the hell out of my head.”

  “I will.” Pity swam in her eyes and couldn’t be blinked away. She’d seen much more than she’d expected or intended. “I can only apologize again. Part of me wanted to hurt you. I didn’t control it.”

  “It must be hard to control it when you’re angry. When you’re threatened. When you see a weakness and can exploit it.”

  Isis took a careful breath. Her system was still rocked, not only by what she’d seen, but what she’d done. “It isn’t my way. It’s against the foundation of my faith. I will cause no harm.” She lifted her hands, rubbing her fingertips under her eyes to dry them. “I’ll answer your questions. You wanted to know about Lobar.”