I Will Fear No Evil

by Debbie Viguié

  She opened the door and stepped back to let him enter. She closed the door and followed him into the kitchen where he set the bag down on the counter.

  “I brought Chinese food. I hope that’s alright,” he said.

  “Sure,” she said, struggling to make sense of his sudden appearance. “Did we have plans tonight?” she asked, searching her memory and not coming up with anything.

  “No, we didn’t,” he said. He cleared his throat slightly and turned to her. “But I thought we needed to talk.”

  She felt a slight sinking sensation in her stomach. She’d been wanting to have a real conversation with him for weeks and this should be a good thing, but the way he phrased it made her nervous.

  “About what?” she asked cautiously.

  “About everything that happened in Israel. About...us.”

  She still couldn’t judge what type of conversation it was going to be because he had his head down a bit and wasn’t making eye contact with her. It certainly wasn’t looking good, she thought.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I’ve been struggling with a lot of things.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “And I want to help you with those.”

  “The truth is, I haven’t wanted help. I’m not sure if I truly didn’t think anyone could help or I was just afraid to open up.”

  She stepped forward and put her hand on his chest. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you,” she said, trying to meet his eyes.

  She finally succeeded, and his eyes were burning with intensity. The look in his eyes reminded her of those few stolen moments on the Temple Mount after they had defeated the terrorists and her heart began to beat faster at the memory.

  “I know, you’ve been a saint. The problem is, I haven’t been here for you. Everything that happened, it can’t have been easy on you and I wasn’t here for you to talk to. That was wrong, and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  Something had changed since she’d seen him the night before. She had no idea what, but she was beginning to feel a profound sense of relief. She stepped closer to him and put her other hand on his chest as well. “I can forgive you,” she said, gazing up into his eyes. “But on one condition.”

  She was playing with fire and she knew it, but weeks of uncertainty and growing frustration could not be undone with mere words at this point.

  “What is it?” he asked, sounding worried.

  It was now or never. She suddenly wished she was wearing something less fleecy and more attractive. There was no help for it, though, and she had already committed herself.

  “I need you to prove to me that the things you said that day weren’t just in the heat of the moment, that you meant them then, and that you still do.”

  She started to slide her arms up to his neck. His phone rang and he stepped back and pulled it out of his pocket. She felt like screaming, but she forced herself to take several deep breaths.

  “It’s Mark,” Jeremiah told her. He wasn’t sure if the detective had perfect timing or terrible timing. He knew that Cindy had wanted him to kiss her, but there was so much he wanted to talk over with her first. He answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Did you make nice with Cindy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Give her some reassurance?”

  “I tried.”

  “Good, because the three of us have got to get our mojo back in a serious way.”

  “What’s going on?” Jeremiah asked, hearing the anxiety in Mark’s voice.

  “There’s been another murder, same kind of thing. Only this time it was my sister-in-law’s roommate. Worse, she was just telling me last night that Lizzie hasn’t been home for a week and she ran up the red flag and called Amber who called Traci who sent me over there to investigate.”

  Jeremiah turned to look at Cindy and put the phone against his chest to muffle his voice from Mark. “Traci’s sister Lizzie is missing and her roommate who alerted the family just turned up dead, the second victim of whoever killed the girl in the basement.”

  Cindy went pale, but nodded resolutely. “We’ve got to get over there.” She walked over to the counter, picked up her purse, and started for the door.

  “Um, maybe you want to put some clothes on if you intend to solve mysteries tonight,” he said.

  She glanced down at her pajamas and blushed. “Right, on it.” She put down her purse and headed for her bedroom.

  Jeremiah put the phone up to his ear. “I’m back.”

  “Put some clothes on? Just exactly how did you make nice with Cindy?” Mark asked.

  Jeremiah was about to snap at him that it was none of his business, but he remembered their earlier conversation and thought about what Cindy would want him to say. “I came over just a couple of minutes ago to surprise her with dinner, and she was already in her pajamas. Which she is still wearing,” he said, just to make things crystal clear.

  Although as soon as he said that he imagined her in her room right then taking them off in order to change into other clothes. The thought was distracting to say the least and he actually missed whatever it was Mark had said next. It was probably just as well.

  “Where do you want us to meet you?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Better make it our house. Traci’s going to want to be a part of this given that it’s her sister we’re talking about.”

  “Okay, we can be there in fifteen.”

  “Actually, get started without me. I’ve got a couple leads I have to chase down first. I know she’s going to want to talk and the sooner you guys are over there watching out for her and the babies, the more settled I’ll feel.”

  “You think they’re in danger?” he asked sharply.

  “I don’t know what to think at this point. Look, I’ve got to run. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Mark hung up and Jeremiah stood there for a moment trying to process everything. Then he walked forward and knocked on Cindy’s door.

  “Almost ready,” she called.

  “It sounds like we need to get over to Mark and Traci’s as soon as possible,” he said.

  “Let’s take the food over with us,” Cindy suggested.

  “Good idea. I got a little carried away with the ordering and there’s more than enough to share,” he said.

  “Great.”

  She opened the door. She was wearing a green satin tank top and a black skirt. She was stunning. She brushed her hair back with a careless hand and he felt his pulse begin to race. She picked up a light sweater and put one arm into it.

  “What do you think we’ll be doing? Do you think I need to put something warmer on, like a heavier sweater? Or I could put on jeans. I mean, if we’re going to be possibly out-”

  Jeremiah reached out and pulled her to him. The feel of the satin beneath his fingers made his head spin as he kissed her. This was what she wanted, proof that he had meant everything he said. After a startled moment she began to kiss him back, twisting her fingers in his hair. If she knew how wild that drove him she wouldn’t do it. He should tell her.

  He broke off the kiss and his eyes took in the room behind her, and then he heard himself saying, “Actually I think you’re a bit overdressed.”

  “It’s what I wore to work today. You think the shirt is too fancy?” she asked.

  “I don’t think the clothes are too nice. I think you’re wearing too many of them,” he said, pulling the sweater she’d half put on off her and tossing it onto the floor before pulling her in tighter. He wrapped his arms around her, molding her body to his and all the careful control he’d built up, all the walls, came crashing down.

  “You’ve been so cold, distant,” she said when he began trailing kisses down her throat.

  “I was wrong, so wrong. I’m sorry. I should never have let you doubt me, doubt what I feel.” He buried his face in her hair and breathed in its scent.

  “It’s okay,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Just don’t do it again.”

  He nodded and just s
tood there for a moment, holding her. Finally he pulled away. His heart was still racing but he felt like he had regained mastery over himself. “We should get over to Traci and Mark’s.”

  “Okay, but first I have one question.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m needing a little clarity on my outfit,” she said with a smirk.

  With a straight face he said, “Wear a sweater. Wear two sweaters. And jeans, too. The ugliest, most poorly fitted jeans you can find.”

  “So then I won’t be attractive?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t count on it. I have a feeling you could wear burlap and it would still be sexy.”

  She blushed even as she laughed and the sound almost made him forget his promise to Mark, his concern for Traci, and the fact that her sister could be in serious trouble.

  Almost, but not quite.

  “We better get out of here,” he said. And suddenly he felt an urgency about it, like there was somewhere they needed to be and fast.

  Cindy frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I just wish I knew what it was.”

  9

  Mark had a sick feeling in his stomach as he waited for Liam to join him at the park. He was way, way outside his comfort zone and had been since the first body had shown up on Monday. He tried to rehearse in his mind how he was going to approach the coven, but realized he had no idea what to expect. They could be hostile, angry at the intrusion by outsiders.

  Then again they were holding their meeting in a public place, in the park in downtown Pine Springs. They couldn’t be expecting complete privacy. For that there was forest not half an hour away. Then again since everything that had happened at Green Pastures a while back he wouldn’t blame anyone for never wanting to go into the woods again, ever.

  Maybe that was why they met in the park. It was safer. Also closer. By meeting late at night they also minimized the risk of interruption so just because they were in a public place didn’t mean they were ready and willing to accept visitors.

  He wondered why of all the spots in the park they gathered near the lone Redwood tree. He wondered if it had some mystical significance. When Lizzie first got into Wicca she’d talked about different plants symbolizing different things and being used in various rituals.

  He sighed and leaned his head back for a moment. Maybe if they hadn’t given her space, but had butted into her life earlier none of this would be happening now. Still, he didn’t want to believe that the deaths were Lizzie’s fault. And it wasn’t just because he didn’t want to be known as the cop that locked up his wife’s sister.

  Lizzie used to be a lot gentler when she was younger although she’d always been a bit moody. Sensitive, that’s how Traci had once described her sister and it made sense.

  Liam’s car pulled up next to his and Mark got out. “Thanks for coming,” he said as Liam came around to stand next to him a few seconds later.

  “What are partners for?” Liam asked with a shrug.

  “Did you at least see some interesting tourist places?” Mark asked, feeling the urge to talk to fill the silence, trying to calm his own jitters.

  “Took the nighttime tour of Alcatraz when I went up to San Francisco.”

  “I bet that was disturbing.”

  “Made me glad I became a cop. When I was little my mother swore I could go either way.”

  “Not you,” Mark said. “You’re a straight and narrow type of guy and I’m sure you were the same way as a kid.”

  Liam just shrugged. “So, care to tell me what we’re doing in the park late at night?”

  “We’re going to see some wiccans about a witch.”

  “Okay, you lost me.”

  “I’m not even sure I understand. We’re going to interrupt a coven meeting, hopefully, to try and get some answers. Stick close.”

  “Just out of curiosity why is it that we always get the weird cases?” Liam asked.

  “Just lucky I guess. You wouldn’t want life to get boring, would you?”

  “No, but every once in a while it might be nice, you know, as a novelty.”

  Mark shook his head and clicked on his flashlight. “Okay, let’s go.”

  They had parked fairly close to where the giant Redwood tree was. He’d hoped that if they had the element of surprise on their side that even if coven members decided to run, they’d at least be able to catch one or two. Hopefully those would actually have information worth knowing.

  “You want to fill me in on what’s going on?” Liam asked.

  “Later,” Mark growled. “For now, maintain silence. We don’t want to spook them.”

  Which is ironic, because I’m the one who’s freaked out, he thought.

  They made their way stealthily through the park. He kept the flashlight low, sweeping on the ground just in front of them so they could see where they were stepping and hopefully not trip over any inconvenient roots.

  As they neared the tree he could hear voices. They were low and it was hard to make out what they were saying. He felt his heart begin to pound harder and his palms began to sweat. He didn’t like the thought of bearding a coven in its den.

  He saw pinpricks of light next, candles placed on the ground in a rough circle as he had suspected they might be. The coven was here, and the closer he got the more he hated this whole situation.

  He slowed down and started walking even more softly. He wanted to get a good look at the circle before revealing their presence if he could. He counted a dozen people standing a shoulder’s width apart from each other, just inside the circle drawn by the candles. All of them wore cloaks, half of them had the hoods drawn up to obscure their faces while the other half didn’t. Apparently some of them didn’t care who knew what they believed.

  He and Liam were very close now although the others still seemed to be oblivious to their presence which was a good thing. He couldn’t make out exactly what they were doing, but it was clear there was a lot of gesturing that went along with the words they were saying.

  After another minute of that a woman stepped into the center of the circle and raised her arms. “Merrily met and merrily part. Blessed be.”

  “Blessed be,” the others intoned. Then everyone reached down, picked up a candle and blew it out.

  The moon was shining brightly enough that there was still enough light to see by. Everyone took off their cloak so maybe he’d been wrong about it being meant to obscure. Maybe it was just like a ceremonial dress. Whatever was going on it seemed like the formalities were over and now people just started chatting with each other. He overheard one of the women mention her daughter’s piano recital the next afternoon while two men were talking about getting the transmission fixed on one of their cars.

  And suddenly Mark felt himself relaxing. Without their cloaks and candles they seemed more like regular people. He suddenly found it hard to believe that the people he heard chatting so casually about the same kinds of things other people did could be behind such brutal sacrifices.

  Throwing caution to the wind he stepped forward. The woman who had been in the center of the circle noticed him first. She looked at him with curiosity and walked forward. Two things struck him about her right away. The first was just how curly her red hair was and the second was that she was wearing what looked like a hand-knitted sweater.

  He blinked in surprise and wondered if this was Sweater Girl that Lizzie used to talk about with her roommate.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes, are you the one in charge here?”

  “Tonight I am,” she said. “We often take turns.”

  “So, you’re not like the high priestess?”

  “No, our coven is run a little more democratically than some of the more traditional ones,” she said.

  He pulled out his badge and her look of curiosity turned to one of concern. “My name is Detective Mark Walters and this is my partner. I was wondering if I could ask you about one of your covenmates, I guess you would c
all her.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl named Lizzie Matthews.”

  “Lizzie, yes, I know her, but she’s not one of our covenates, not anymore.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “It was quite a while ago. I’d say about two years.”

  “Can you tell me why?”

  The woman’s face changed subtly and her eyes became more guarded. “Can I ask what this is about?”

  “She was reported missing about a week ago and a few hours ago her roommate was found, murdered.”

  “Oh my!” Sweater Girl said, her hand flying to her mouth. “That’s terrible!”

  “Yes, and we’re eager to figure out what’s going on and to find Lizzie. She might be in terrible danger.”

  “Of course, I’ll do anything I can.” She turned and called out, “Albert, can you come here a moment?”

  A large, sweaty bald man walked over, his face jovial and grinning from ear-to-ear. “Do we have newcomers Matilda?” he asked.

  “No, Albert. These are the police. Lizzie Matthews has gone missing and she may be in danger. I’m going to talk to them for a while. Can you ask the others if any of them has heard from her recently or might know anything about her whereabouts?”

  “Of course,” he said, the grin quickly disappearing from his face. Matilda led Mark and Liam away as Albert began to speak to the others. Once they were out of easy earshot she faced them.

  “When Lizzie joined our coven she was very eager to learn, excited about everything. She’d had no real exposure to religion of any kind growing up.”

  Mark nodded, but didn’t say anything. He was going to avoid mentioning his connection to Lizzie if he could. The less Matilda knew about him, Lizzie, and everything that was going on the better for all of them.

  “She took to it quickly, learned as much as she could, but after a couple of months I could tell that something was wrong.”