Brad stared at Jeremy and nodded, as if trying to believe.
Just then Eric walked up behind Jeremy and laid a hand on his shoulder. Jeremy turned to look at him, and Brad followed suit. Eric didn’t seem to notice the way Brad’s eyes narrowed at the sight of him.
“I hear he makes devil masks,” Brad whispered to Rowenna.
“Yes, he makes masks. Relax, Brad,” Rowenna whispered back.
“Mr. Flynn,” Eric said, “I’ve heard that you’re an amazing guitarist. The band over there wants you to sit in.”
There was a dead, flat look in Jeremy’s eyes for a moment. He turned to stare at her—as if it were her fault, she thought. Then something in his expression changed, and she was coming to know him so well, she realized, that she actually knew what he was thinking: that it wouldn’t hurt to get tight with the locals.
Even the locals on his list of suspects—or perhaps especially the locals on his list of suspects.
Then he got up and walked over to the band, talked with them for a minute and picked up an extra guitar.
He really could play, Rowenna thought, remembering the times when she had seen him sit in with one of the bands on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
She had wondered if he would touch a woman with the same knowledge and tenderness as he gave to a guitar.
And now she knew.
“Shit,” Eric said. “He can play.”
“Of course he can play,” Brad said indignantly, then looked at Eric and laughed. “You were hoping he’d make a fool out of himself.”
“No!” Eric protested. “Well, okay…yeah, I was.”
He wandered off, closer to the stage. Rowenna felt Brad staring at her.
“When are we going to find her? Will we find her soon?” he asked intently.
She felt a flow of crimson come to her cheeks. “Brad, I’m not sure what you think I can tell you.”
“I think you know things,” he said. “You told me not to give up hope. You keep saying she’s alive.”
“And I do believe she’s alive.”
“But we have to find her quickly.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
He grabbed her hand. “If there’s anything, anything at all, that you can do, please, I’m begging you, do it.”
“I will, Brad. You know I will.”
His sense of urgency filled her, and she felt dread settle heavy in her heart. Time was of the essence. And the thing was, she had a feeling that there was something she could do. She just didn’t want to do it.
The answer lay in the cemetery. She was sure of it.
Just as the thought came to her, she noticed Adam and Eve entering the restaurant, and for once they weren’t arguing.
Daniel came in by himself behind them, said something to them, and then the three of them sat down at a table together. She was surprised, given that they weren’t great friends, despite having known each other a long time. Daniel had a tendency to air his feeling about “failed Catholics” embracing pagan beliefs as a way to make money.
He looked up and saw her at the bar, waved, then looked around. He seemed surprised to see Jeremy playing with the band, and he drew Adam and Eve’s attention to the musicians.
Eve grinned, then looked over at Rowenna and gave her a thumbs-up sign. A moment later, Daniel spotted Eric and walked over to where the other man was sitting. They chatted for a minute; then Daniel pointed out the table where he was sitting with Adam and Eve. Eric shrugged, and accompanied him back over to join their group.
More people began to file in, some going straight to the bar for a drink, others filling the tables and perusing the dinner menu.
When Rowenna saw Ginny and Dr. MacElroy enter, she nearly fell off her bar stool. It was almost as if people were flocking in just to be together and try to forget the horror that had touched their once-safe little town. She hadn’t seen Dr. MacElroy in a while, so she excused herself to Brad, and walked over to the table Doc and Ginny had just taken.
“Rowenna, so nice to see you.” Ginny’s face brightened at the sight of her.
“Rowenna, hello.” Dr. MacElroy had just taken his seat, but he rose, smiling. His given name was Nick, but he had been her pediatrician when she was a child and she could never bring herself to refer to him as anything other than Doc or Dr. MacElroy, especially to his face.
He welcomed her with a grandfatherly hug, then he held her away for a moment, studying her as if she were still a child and might have grown since he’d last seen her. “You look as lovely as always. Ginny says you’re doing well.”
“Very well, thank you.”
Doc MacElroy was slim and dignified. His hair was thinning and white, his eyes a powder blue, like Ginny’s. He held out a chair for her, and she perched on the edge, explaining that she could only stay for a second, because she was with friends.
“Nasty business, this. Very nasty business,” Dr. MacElroy said sadly, shaking his head. “You sure you’re all right? Ginny said you found that poor woman’s body.”
“I’m okay. Really.”
“Your young man came by,” Ginny explained to her, a sparkle in her eyes. “He’d been out to meet Eric, so he dropped by to see me, too. He knew I hadn’t been out there running around in the corn, but he hoped maybe I had heard something, seen a car, anything unusual. But I’m afraid I’m a homebody and never notice much of anything outside the house.”
“She watches game shows with the TV on full blast,” Dr. MacElroy said fondly. “Of course she never notices anything.”
“But I do own that land. Father left it to me,” Ginny fretted.
“Ginny, please, you can’t let that worry you,” Rowenna told her.
“She’s been upset ever since, well, you know. So I thought a nice dinner out would be a good idea,” Dr. MacElroy said, looking around the room. “I’m seeing half of my patients in here tonight—all grown up now, of course. Time does fly,” he added softly.
“And to think I’ve lived to see a time like this,” Ginny said. “It makes you wonder what this world is coming to.”
“Ginny, bad things can happen anywhere,” Rowenna said. After all, she thought ironically, the witch trials certainly counted as bad things.
“At least the harvest festival is coming up to take people’s minds off things,” Ginny said. “I’m helping out with the costumes this year, and I’ve made a beautiful dress for you.” She frowned. “You’ll have to come by soon. The festival starts in a few days.”
“Of course. Day after tomorrow, will that be all right?” Rowenna wanted to get back to her research tomorrow.
Ginny nodded. “So long as I have time for alterations, anything suits my schedule.”
Dr. MacElroy nodded toward the band. “Is that your young fellow playing the guitar, Rowenna?”
She smiled. It seemed so strange to hear Jeremy referred to as hers.
“That’s Jeremy Flynn, yes,” Rowenna said. “Well, I’ve left Brad alone at the bar long enough. I’d better get back.”
“Of course. Good to see you home,” Dr. MacElroy said.
“And it’s good to see you out, Ginny,” Rowenna said.
“We were out not so long ago. Halloween night, and it was lovely.” She frowned suddenly. “That was the night that poor woman disappeared. Your friend must be in agony, wondering if they’re going to find her in a cornfield, too. Oh!”
She broke off, staring in horror. Rowenna turned to see what Ginny was looking at, but the only thing she could see was a column.
“Ginny, what is it?” Dr. MacElroy asked in concern, clearly as puzzled as Rowenna was.
Ginny stared from one of them to the other. “Lights. I saw lights.”
Rowenna and Dr. MacElroy exchanged worried glances.
“Oh, stop it, you two! I haven’t gone daft. I just thought of it suddenly, being here, talking about that woman. I haven’t heard anything, but the other night, I woke up and looked out toward the northwest, and I swear, there were wiggly-waggly lights o
ut there, like a UFO.”
“Ginny, there’s nothing out there but brushland,” Dr. MacElroy said.
Ginny turned to Rowenna. “You make sure you tell that man of yours what I said. He told me it was important to tell him anything—anything at all—that came to mind.”
“Of course I will, Ginny. Thank you,” Rowenna said.
She left them at last, and paused on her way back to the bar to say hello to Adam, Eve and Daniel. Eve kissed her cheek and said, “He’s really good,” as she tilted her head in Jeremy’s direction.
“A regular rock star,” Adam said, smiling, then asked, “How did Ginny seem to you?”
“Fine, why?”
Adam shook his head. “I don’t know, I think she’s starting to slip. I’m kind of worried about her. She called me at midnight about a week ago, asking about a costume, and thought it was early evening.”
“Ginny will be fine. I’m helping her with the details,” Eve told him, her voice cool. They might be trying to appear as if everything was copacetic in public, Rowenna thought, but Eve still wasn’t happy.
And everything seemed to come back to the Harvest Festival.
Rowenna glanced at the bar. “Excuse me, will you? Brad seems to be slipping into his beer. I’m going to go back and keep him company.”
“Of course,” Eve said sympathetically.
When Rowenna returned to her stool, Brad was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice her at first.
“Here you go, Ro,” Hugh said, setting a cold beer in front of her. “On the house,” he added.
She smiled her thanks and touched Brad’s shoulder.
He jumped, then looked at her with anguished eyes. “Sorry. The waiting is getting to me. The not knowing.”
She nodded. “But you’re a cop. You know how investigations work, and that’s got to help.”
He straightened and nodded back. “Don’t worry. I won’t fall apart.” He turned on his stool, and watched Jeremy and the others playing. “I wish I played guitar,” he said, pointing at Jeremy with his beer bottle. “He works things out in his head when he plays, did you know that?”
“I wish I could play an instrument, too,” she told him.
“You’re great the way you are, Rowenna. You don’t need to be more.”
“Thank you.”
He pointed to the table where Eric, Daniel, Adam and Eve were sitting. “But,” he said, his words slurring just the tiniest bit, “you sure as hell have some really weird friends. I mean, they’re nice enough, but…they’re kind of scary-weird.” He turned back to the bar. “Except for Hugh, here. Hugh’s normal. He likes a good beer and a football game, and he doesn’t worship trees. Right, Hugh?”
Hugh looked apologetically at Rowenna. “Um, right, Brad.” He moved away, looking uncomfortable.
“Let’s just listen to Jeremy,” she suggested.
“One of them could be the Devil,” Brad whispered.
“Brad, seriously, they’re all just people,” she assured him.
“I’m sorry,” he told her.
He didn’t say anything else, and she couldn’t help but wonder, glancing over at the table where her friends were sitting, just what he’d been apologizing for.
Was he sorry that he had insulted her friends?
Sorry that her friends were weird?
Or sorry because one of her friends was the Devil?
She silently thanked God when Jeremy, to the sound of applause from the audience and thanks from the band, returned to them after the next number. When he reached the bar, he told her that he was famished and they needed to order dinner.
Brad needed to eat, she thought. He’d been drinking too fast and too long without anything to eat.
“I’m not hungry,” Brad protested
“I am,” Jeremy said. “So we’re going to have dinner.”
They moved to a table, and Jeremy watched people while they ate. He waved to Ginny, and asked Rowenna to introduce him to Dr. MacElroy, which she did when the two of them stopped by their table as they were leaving. Ginny spoke encouragingly to Brad, while Dr. MacElroy seemed to study Jeremy just as Jeremy studied him.
“Did you tell him?” Ginny asked Rowenna anxiously. “Did you tell him what I saw?”
Jeremy looked at Rowenna, his expression inquiring.
“No, not yet,” Rowenna admitted.
“Lights,” Ginny told Jeremy gravely.
“Lights?”
“In the night—just like a UFO,” Ginny said. “To the northwest of our house—and Rowenna’s, too. I forgot all about them until tonight.”
Dr. MacElroy looked uncomfortable, as if embarrassed for Ginny.
But Jeremy thanked her solemnly and asked, “When did you see them?”
“Well, I’m not sure. Let me think…. Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. I think I’ve noticed them a few times. I just don’t know how I could have forgotten.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jeremy said reassuringly. “And thank you very much. If you see them again, will you let me know?”
“Of course,” Ginny promised gravely. “Of course.”
“Good night, then,” Dr. MacElroy said, and he and Ginny exited.
“UFOs?” Brad said wearily as they walked away. “Give me a break.”
“Lights to the northwest. What’s out there, Rowenna?” Jeremy asked.
“Nothing. Just brush. It’s not even good farmland,” she told him. “And, Jeremy…” She hesitated to say anything, but it really did sound as if maybe Ginny was losing it a bit.
“What?” he asked.
“I hate to say it, but I think maybe Ginny’s getting a little senile, so you…you might not want to put too much stock in what she says.”
Jeremy didn’t say anything. He just looked thoughtful as he started eating again.
Eventually they finished their meals, walked Brad back to his B and B and then went on toward the house Jeremy had rented.
“What a strange night,” Rowenna said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many locals all there at once….”
“Interesting,” Jeremy agreed.
He looked pensive, though, and he sounded distracted.
“What are you thinking?” she asked after a long silence.
“Just that…I think interviewing this guy tomorrow is going to be a waste of time.”
“But he was the last person seen with her.”
“If his alibi checked out, he’d be walking and I wouldn’t even be going,” Jeremy said. “Even so, they don’t have any hard evidence, and they can’t hold him past tomorrow, so this is the one chance we have to talk to the guy. And who knows? I don’t think he killed her, but maybe he’ll remember something that points in the right direction. The thing is…”
“What?”
“I know our killer’s local, and I can’t help feeling that there’s something I should be seeing, but I’m just not seeing it.”
“You grilled Eric today, I hear.”
“I’m not a detective,” he said, his tone dry as he gazed her way. “I don’t ‘grill’ anyone.”
She hesitated, then said, “It’s possible that the man you’re going to talk to has just studied the area. I mean, Boston is only thirty miles away. If traffic’s not bad—”
He laughed. “When is the traffic near any large city ever not bad?”
“Four in the morning?” she joked. “Seriously, maybe it is this guy.”
He mulled that over, then shook his head. “Brad is convinced it’s Damien. The guy with the crystal ball. The problem is, no one has been able to find him. He never applied for a permit, so there’s no paper trail. He came to town, he disappeared. Do you know what that means?”
“No, what?”
“That Damien isn’t really named Damien. I’d guarantee it. I was thinking about it the whole time I was playing, going over everything we know, everything we don’t know and all our dead ends. First, the guy is incredibly smart. He knows the area, knows when things will be so
busy that he can put on an entire charade, complete with tent, and no one will notice. Then, he knows enough to cover his tracks. Dinah Green was sexually assaulted, but they couldn’t find DNA, they couldn’t get a scraping from beneath her nails, they couldn’t find a single fiber that told them anything. Then Mary disappears from the only deserted place in town on a massively busy day. He didn’t go underground with her—there are no secret passages to the street from the graveyard. That means he knows just how crazy Halloween is going to be, so once he gets her out of there, who’s going to notice some guy in costume with a woman over his shoulder or tucked against him like she’s drunk or whatever he did. The thing is…” He paused, took a deep breath and finished the thought. “I’m afraid that if we don’t solve this quickly, Mary will run out of time.”
They had reached the house. He looked at her and said, “You didn’t get home today, did you?”
“No—but I’ll have to at some point. I bought these clothes at Adam and Eve’s, and I got some extra underwear, so I’m covered for tomorrow, but after that, I’ll have to go home.”
He nodded. “Do you want to drive into Boston with Joe and me tomorrow?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I know you think I’m looking for something that can’t possibly exist, but I want to keep researching. There are books at the History Museum I haven’t even opened yet.”
“I wish I could send Brad with you,” he said.
“You can,” she said. She did like the guy, and sober, he was fine.
“I can try. Brad is a doer, not a reader, I’m afraid.”
“Just tell him to come get me for breakfast, because you’re worried about me, and that he has to walk me to the museum and keep an eye on me. That will make him feel like he’s doing something,” Rowenna suggested.
“I like that,” Jeremy said. “I should be back around lunchtime, anyway. And Zach will get here at some point tomorrow, too.”
“Zach?” she said. “Here?”
He nodded. “I guess I got sidetracked. After I talked to Joe, Zach called. He’s going to catch a flight up here tomorrow. Once he gets here…well, then I won’t have to worry about you so much.”
Deadly Harvest Page 22
