by Shayla Black
Elyssa launched into her story. She’d just been out for a night of fun and heard a strange voice in her head, which she ignored. She’d tried to connect with John Bradbury when they’d reached the mortuary, but he’d not been around.
Then she found him.
Hanging dead.
The haunted attraction had been closed down and she’d answered questions over and over again. Back home, her mom had actually made her tea with whiskey in it so that she could sleep. But then she’d opened her eyes and John Bradbury had been sitting at the foot of her bed, telling her that he was grateful, but that she had to stop what was happening or other people would die.
“He didn’t by any chance tell you what was happening, did he?” Sam asked.
“He doesn’t really know. He was working downstairs in the embalming room when someone slipped a noose around his neck. He heard people talking, two people, he thinks. Then someone said something about the witch trials and wacky cults. Another voice said something about that person needing to shut up. And then the person who’d spoken first said what the hell did it matter? Bradbury would be dead. Who cares.”
“The witch trials?” Jenna asked, adding, “Not Wiccans today?”
Elyssa nodded. “The witch trials, that’s what he said. Someone was talking about the witch trials and cults. But, what they said exactly, I don’t know.” She looked hopeful. “Maybe now that you’re here, John will come and talk to you instead of me. I can’t remember all that he said. I’m not sure he knows exactly what he heard.”
“We’ll look into whatever new groups are in town,” Sam said. “And, of course check out the older covens and groups too. Most of the Wiccans in town are good and peaceful people. They practice their faith like any religion.”
“Good people come in all faiths,” Uncle Jamie said. “Elyssa knows that.”
“I mean, that’s the thing. I couldn’t figure out why he appeared to me. I’m in my last year of high school,” Elyssa said. “I have midterms coming up. I’m not the police or even an investigator. Early this morning he came back. He wasn’t a creepy ghost or anything. He didn’t pop into the shower on me or anything like that. He appeared right when I’d finished dressing. Mom said I shouldn’t go to school today. When I first woke up—that’s when I called you, Jenna—I was still feeling freaked out. Then you said that you’d come and I was so relieved. I was finally hungry and was going to go out to get some breakfast when he appeared at my bedroom door. He thanked me again and said that you and Sam could help.”
Sam smiled at her. “He came back and talked to you in your room and you didn’t scream or pass out? Pretty brave kid.”
Elyssa smiled. “Maybe I’m like you.”
“Maybe you are—and it’s really not so bad,” Jenna told her.
“Should we have known this man?” Sam asked.
“He was from Salem,” Jenna told him. “Five to ten years older than you. Do you remember his name from anything?”
Sam reflected for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m not really sure.”
“He knew you, or about you,” Elyssa said, staring at them both expectantly.
“We should start with the covens and cultists,” Jenna noted. “Though that could be a long list. Seems like new things sprout up here every Halloween.”
“I’ll get Angela working on it back at headquarters,” Sam said. “I’d like to get into the autopsy. I’ll call Jackson, see if Adam Harrison has any sway up here.”
“Adam has sway everywhere,” Jenna assured him.
Adam Harrison, the dignified philanthropist who’d finally organized his little army of psychic researchers into an FBI unit, did seem to have sway everywhere. He was a good man, one who’d made a great deal of money and managed to keep his principles. His son, dead in a car accident in high school, had been one of those special people with an unusual ability. Eventually, Adam had learned that his son was not the only one.
“Excuse me,” Sam told them. “I’m going to make some calls. You know Devin Lyle and Craig Rockwell are from this area, too. We might need some help covering the ground.”
“Good idea,” Jenna said. In all the rush she’d forgotten that her co-agents were also from Salem. Then again, Elyssa’s hysterical call that morning had made her forget everything. “Hopefully, they’re not already on assignment.”
“We’ll see,” Sam said, and headed out to the living room where he could call privately.
Uncle Jamie glanced at his watch. “Susan is due back soon. What are we going to say to her? I can’t encourage a child to lie to her parents, but Susan and Matt will see her locked away in an institution.”
“I’m not a child,” Elyssa reminded them. “Come June, I’ll be both a high school grad and over eighteen.”
“And that means you’ll stop loving and caring for your parents?” Jamie asked.
“Of course not. But Uncle Jamie, they think I’m crazy.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Jenna said. “Your mom knows that you called me, right?”
Elyssa nodded. “I seem to have the gift. My mom doesn’t, so she’ll never understand.”
“Some people never do,” Jenna said. “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. So what we’re going to do is this. You’ll say you can’t help but be concerned and worried. And I’ll say that Sam and I have come because we’ve realized just how long it’s been since we’ve been back here, so why not check out this situation for you. How’s that?”
She looked at Jamie and Elyssa.
“Omission in itself can be a lie,” her uncle said. “But, okay, it’s not a lie.”
The admission came just in time, as the doorbell rang. They could hear the door open and Sam’s deep voice as he introduced himself to Susan and Matt Adair, Elyssa’s parents.
“Jenna,” Susan Adair said, hurrying across the room with a huge hug. “Have you had a chance to speak with Elyssa? You’ve explained that, while it’s sad and tragic, poor Mr. Bradbury took his own life. All I think about are his children. This will be so hard for them.”
“Not to worry,” Jenna said. “We’ve assured Elyssa that we’ll look into it all and that she needs to worry about school and midterms.”
Sam laid his hands on Jenna’s shoulders. “It never hurts to be thorough. That’s what the bureau is all about. But Jenna is right. Elyssa doesn’t have to worry or be concerned about a thing.”
“See,” Susan said, turning to her daughter triumphantly. “That’s all good.”
Matt Adair had been hovering by the door, watching the reunion. He was fit––an athletic man, coaching football at the local high school. They were quite the odd couple. Susan, Irish-looking with carrot red hair and amber eyes, a ball of fire and energy. Matt, except for when he was on the football field, a model of quiet and calm.
He greeted Jenna with a hug, then said, “I never like to say there’s nothing to worry about.”
Elyssa let out a sigh. “He’s worried because I was babbling, and he’s afraid my peers are going to make fun of me. That’s the least of my worries. Honestly, Dad. My feet are on the ground, and I’ve never been swayed by peer pressure.”
And, to the best of Jenna’s knowledge, she hadn’t been. Elyssa was bright and happy. She made friends because she was honestly interested in others and enjoyed meeting people. Between them, Susan and Matt had raised her right. A daughter open to new experiences, but comfortable in her own.
“It’s always smart to be cautious,” Uncle Jamie murmured. “Now, how about some food. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering out. Italian. And I think the delivery person just drove up.”
“I’ll head out and get it,” Sam offered.
“And I’ll give you a hand,” Matt said.
“Wait,” Susan said. “Why does anyone need to be cautious? This was a suicide. Right? Our daughter found the poor man and that’s that.”
But no one answered her.
Jenna hurried to help Uncle Jamie with plates and Elyssa found
silverware and glasses. The delivery order included lasagna, salad, and breadsticks and the next few minutes were spent passing food around.
“What’s new in town?” Sam asked, when everyone was satisfied with a plate filled to their liking.
“They keep building ugly new structures,” Matt said.
“It used to be so quaint here. But commercialism is ruining the place,” Susan added, shaking her head.
“But a lot of the old shops are still around, right?”
“Oh, yes, and more.” Susan said. “New England seems to be moving into an age of diversity. We now have a large Asian population.”
“And Hispanic,” Matt said.
“Russian, too. Mostly Eastern Europeans,” Uncle Jamie said. “We have a new family from Estonia at my church these days, and a number of Polish.”
Susan shrugged and smiled. “And islanders. South Americans and Southerners.”
Jenna had to laugh. The way Susan spoke, it seemed that Southerners were the most foreign of anyone who’d moved to Salem. “The world moves all over these days. People go different places for work, to study, and some just to live.”
“I actually love all of the different languages, the people and accents,” Susan said. “But I have to say, if this weren’t my home, I don’t know if I would have moved here.”
Jenna was curious. “Why?”
“Snow,” Elyssa said. “Mom hates the snow.”
“I don’t hate the snow. I hate shoveling snow. And chipping the windows covered with ice.”
“Oh, mom, you love Salem. We couldn’t pry you out of here with a fire poker.”
Elyssa seemed exceptionally happy. As if what had been so horrible was not half so bad anymore.
“Tell me about the new shops in town,” Jenna said, glancing at Sam. No better way to learn the lay of the land than ask the locals.
“There’s a great place called Down River on Essex Street,” Matt said. “I love it. All kinds of books, new and used, and wonderful art and artifacts.”
“It’s owned by one of the silly Southerners who moved north to shovel snow,” Susan said. “Pass the garlic bread, will you please?”
“And there’s a restaurant and shop that opened near there,” Matt told them. “Indian, from across the ocean. Great food. Beautiful saris and shirts.”
“Too much curry, that’s the way I see the food,” Susan said.
“What about the old places?”
“Most of them are still around. And, of course, there are a number of covens. I think we also have people practicing Santeria or voodoo or something like that.” Susan shook her head. “Evil spells.” And her hand with the fork shivered halfway to her mouth.
“Most people,” Uncle Jamie said, “whether they’re practicing Santeria or voodoo or if they’re Baptists or Catholics or Episcopalians, are good people. Today’s Wiccans tend to be lovely, not wanting to hurt anyone.”
“You really do see the good in everyone,” Susan said.
“Most religions are good. What men and women do with that sometimes is the problem. I just don’t go assuming they’re out to do evil.”
“I hope not,” Matt said. “Halloween seems to bring out all of the kooks. Especially in Salem. And we did have that terrible incident with those murders just a year or two back.”
“We know about that,” Sam said. “We had colleagues involved with the investigation.”
“We’re going to hope that everyone behaves for Halloween,” Susan said sternly. “And plan on all good things, right, Elyssa?”
The young girl nodded. “I’m going to the school dance, then a party at Nate’s house. I’m going to be an angel. Not costume-wise. I’m going as Poison Ivy. But I’ll be an angel.”
When it was time for the Adair family to leave, Elyssa caught Jenna by the door and gave her a tight hug once again. “Thank you so much for coming. You’ve made me feel sane again.”
Jenna smiled and watched the family go.
As the car drove down the street, Sam turned to Uncle Jamie. “Okay, so what’s really going on around here?”
Jamie stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“I know you’re in on everything happening. Santeria, voodoo. What else is there that we need to know about?”
The older man sighed and shrugged. “We do have two voodoo priestesses in town. They read tarot cards and do palm reading. But that’s not new for Salem, as you know. A few neighbors have complained about chickens. I assume they’re being used in their services.”
“And the Wiccans? Have you heard of anything troubling there?”
“They’re like any group, squabbling now and then.”
“Were any of the groups upset about the things going on at the mortuary?” Sam asked.
“Now that I think of it, there was a town meeting. Quite honestly, it was all the usual. A woman complaining that having the mortuary be a theme park attraction for Halloween made fun of witchcraft. She objected to the image of everyone who practiced the Wiccan religion being portrayed as a broom-riding, warty old woman. Someone else was complaining that the haunted house took away from the historic value of the town. Another guy gave a great oratory about the freedom of being in America. Be Wiccan, a Buddhist, whatever, and accept all else. Some clapped for him, some said freedom came with responsibility and respect. But cooler heads prevailed. It’s Halloween and every self-respecting town has to have a great haunted attraction. Besides, Salem makes a lot of money at Halloween.”
“Think you can make us a list of names of people who seemed to be heading toward the fanatical stage on their speeches?” Sam asked.
“Absolutely.”
“You talked to Jackson?” Jenna asked Sam.
He nodded. “Devin Lyle and Craig Rockwell are going to come straight here from a situation in San Diego. They’ll be here by tomorrow night, or the next morning at the latest.”
“That’s Halloween,” Jenna said.
“I’m off,” Sam said, smiling at the other two. “Care to join me?”
“And where are you going, and what do you think you can discover at this time of night?” Uncle Jamie asked.
“Angela and the home office are online, seeing what they can find out. Thankfully, everyone has a blog or is on Facebook these days. They like to bitch, so we may find something out through their posts. So where else does one get the skinny on what’s happening? The best local bar in the center of the action. Except, what would that be now? Hard to say. So I’ll just hop from one bar to another and see what’s there.”
Chapter 3
“There,” Jenna said, motioning with her head.
“Where, what?” Sam asked.
They’d entered a relatively new place on Essex Street called The Sorcerer’s Brew. Nicely adorned with lots of carved wood and old kegs and trunks for tables and seats. The menu was full of old standards like clam chowder, scrod, fish, meat and chicken, many done up blackened, with cilantro or sriracha sauce. The signature cocktail was also called The Sorcerer’s Brew, and they had taps for twenty different beers on draft.
Definitely a tourist stop.
The Peabody Essex museum was just down the street along with a number of the historic houses open to the public. Ghost tours left from the front of nearby shops and a number of store windows offered haunted mazes, 3-D haunted experiences, and slightly twisted versions of the ghosts of Salem, all which utilized various scenes of the condemned coming back to life to curse those who’d accused them. Like most new places that sprang up, the locals checked in now and then. Especially at Halloween, when they were working late and craved a quick bite, a drink, or a cup of tea after work.
Sam followed Jenna’s pointed finger and saw a pair of young women seated in a carved wooden booth toward the windows at the front of the restaurant. He followed her as she moved through the crowd.
“Who are they?” he asked.
“Old friends,” she told him, and then she grinned. “Actually, you know them. You chaperoned all of us o
ne day years ago.”
And he remembered. Part of the teenage wild gang.
“Stephanie,” Jenna said. “Audra.”
The two women turned, then both sprang to their feet. There was a lot of gushing and hugs. Sam stood by and waited, then he was introduced. Stephanie had long dark hair and was dressed in black jeans and a black sweater. Audra too had long hair, dressed in a black-tailored shirt and long skirt. Stephanie still looked like a girl with big brown eyes and a gamine-like face. Audra cast a more sophisticated appearance.
“My God,” Stephanie said, giving him a hug. “I’d heard you two were together now. I didn’t get to see either of you when you were here on that awful Lexington House case. But, oh, a big-time lawyer, eh? Do you remember us? Audra and I were the other kids you had to watch that day. We tormented you, didn’t we? But we all had these massive crushes on you. It’s great to see you. Are you moving back?”
“Of course, I remember both of you,” Sam said, lying. Actually, he didn’t remember either of them, only Jenna. “It’s great to see you. And no, we’re not moving back. We’re just here to visit.”
“Sit down, join us, can you?” Audra asked.
Sam took a seat on the wooden bench next to Stephanie. Jenna slid beside Audra.
“We know why you’re here,” Audra said.
“We do?” Stephanie said. “I actually don’t. What’s going on?”
Audra drew an elegantly polished purple nail along the sweat on her beer mug. “The death at the mortuary. Elyssa Adair found the body.”
“That’s true,” Sam said.
Jenna looked at him, shrugged, and went with his direction. “She was upset and called me. So that’s why we’re here.”
“The whole thing is a little strange, isn’t it?” Sam said.
Audra agreed with a shrug. “If that’s what I did for a living, manage haunted houses, and I decided to do it all in, I would think that doing something like that would be a great final statement to the world.”
