“I’ll throw out our paper and fill the to-go coffee cups. You’ll wash up the pan and whatever else,” Skye suggested.

  “Um, things fit in my pockets okay, but you always carry that shoulder bag—”

  “I’m happy to carry the brush, zebra, and little green army man. It’s better if I have them; you can take them at the right time and place, when needed,” Skye said. “And now, we divide and conquer!”

  Zach procured the objects and washed the pan. Skye thrust the objects into her bag and went about clearing up their trash and wiping down the counter.

  They were done quickly, but just in time. There was a knock at the door; Gavin Bruns was precisely on time.

  Zach opened the door. The detective had donned professional clothing as well. He was ready for the day.

  “Hey, I’m just down the street if you’re ready—” he began.

  “Of course, we’re ready,” Zach told him, grinning. “You told us nine!”

  Skye was right behind Zach.

  “Nice!” Gavin said. “So lock up!”

  Once Skye had stepped out, Zach locked the door, keying in the alarm. Then they were on the way, walking down the street to find Gavin’s car around the corner.

  “I’ll slide in back,” Zach said. Skye smiled at him and took the front; Gavin slid into the driver’s seat.

  “We’re not going all that far. And I’m going to need to release the house to Mr. and Mrs. Bolton in the next few days; though, honestly, they haven’t been rushing me,” Gavin told them. “I don’t blame them. Go home to where your five-year-old lives, but remains missing; and for Justin, where his grandfather was murdered. But our funds only stretch so far, and you’ve been in the house, my detectives have been in the house, and a forensic team has been in the house … It’s time for us to let it go.”

  “Of course,” Skye said.

  “We will probably go back at the tail end of today,” Zach said. “One last go-through. And I’d like to get back to the costume shop—it’s still closed?”

  “Mr. Howell has kept it closed; he’s still spending his days running around different forests in the area by himself. He was going to burn every witch costume he had, but Detective Berkley pointed out they were sold all over the place. But, of course, we’ll get you back in before he reopens, if you think that there’s possibly anything at all that you can get back there. And we’re here. Could have walked, just about,” Gavin said. “But we’ll need the car to head to Saugus.”

  They exited the car. Zach paused a minute, looking at the street. He’d had a friend who had lived nearby when he was a kid. Their parents had been friends, so they had spent a few days with Josh, now and then. And as teenagers, they’d once purchased a “fart machine” from a local gag shop and taken it on a ghost tour with them, convincing a couple of people that the ghosts were farting—until they’d been kicked off the tour by the knowing tour guide. Still, according to Josh, they’d had a “wicked” good time.

  In this area, a girl could be wicked cute. A concert could be wicked amazing.

  “Zach?”

  Skye looked back at him.

  “Sorry, sorry.” Gavin was looking at him, too.

  “Memories,” he said. “I’d hang out here sometimes as a kid.” He grimaced. “Not always a good kid!”

  “Ah, the things we’ve done in our youths!” Gavin said. “But please let me know anytime you need to stop, feel something, see something, okay?”

  It seemed more and more possible to Zach that Lieutenant Gavin Bruns had to know about Jackson Crow and his Krewe of Hunters. He knew they offered an “unusual” way to investigate, and he was apparently willing to oblige their needs. But how much did Bruns actually understand?

  “Of course,” Zach said.

  They headed to an apartment building.

  Zach saw a car in front of the place and immediately determined that it was an unmarked police car.

  Mr. and Mrs. Bolton were still being guarded. Because, of course, logically, they might be the ones who had really been under attack when Mike had been killed, and Jeremy and Patricia had been kidnapped.

  That wasn’t the case, Zach thought.

  But watching over them was logical police work that fit in with procedure.

  “Yeah, they are guarded,” Gavin said.

  Zach nodded. “Good. Of course.”

  Gavin indicated the walk and the little pathway that brought them through the section of ground-floor apartments.

  He knocked at the first door.

  Justin Bolton opened the door, looking at them anxiously. He was a man in his late thirties, with a receding hairline and anxious hazel eyes.

  “Detective, thank you. I mean, we’re feeling desperate. We can’t believe you haven’t found them yet; and every hour, we’re more and more worried that—”

  “They’re alive, Mr. Bolton,” Skye said. “Patricia and Jeremy are alive. We’ve found enough clues in movement to assure us that they’re still alive.”

  “For how long?” the man wailed miserably. “We read the papers and watch every scrap of news on the TV, on the Internet! They are reporting that they were kidnapped by a green witch. Can that be true? What the hell! I mean, everyone saw Hocus Pocus. A cute movie, makes good use of the city’s history in a fantasy vein, but … what if those kidnapped are wanted for a strange ritual—as sacrifices? Doesn’t every single moment count? And …” Justin paused, looking from Gavin Bruns to Zach and Skye. “I’m sorry, I … I’m Justin Bolton and this is my wife behind me, Alicia.”

  “We do apologize,” Alicia said. “But you must understand—”

  “We do understand,” Zach assured her. “I’m Special Agent Zachary Erickson, and this is my partner, Special Agent Skye McMahon. We have police and the federal government working on this, doing everything in our power. And, sir, ma’am, we’re here today because we will leave no stone unturned. We’re hoping you might have an idea about people in the area who may be up to something. We believe they’re keeping the children in a forest or somewhere very dark. They are necessarily scared; but from everything that we’ve gleaned, Patricia will be guarding Jeremy with everything in her, making sure that he’s alive and well until we’re able to find them. But please think—think hard. Is there anyone you know who might—”

  “No one has a grudge against either of us, I swear it!” Justin said, shaking his head, his face a mask of worry and pain.

  “The question is really this,” Skye said gently. “And think, please; do you know about anyone who might be taking stories about the devil being in the woods too seriously, or even someone who might gain from getting others to believe so?”

  Alicia and Justin looked at one another for a long moment.

  “Have you done a ghost tour lately?” Alicia asked.

  “You know tour guides?”

  “Well, there’s a new tour group that started up recently. They pride themselves on being the spookiest tour out there, working off the distant past and the more recent past,” Alicia told them.

  “Yeah. They’ll probably get our place on one of their tours soon enough. We can’t stop them from being on the road or on a sidewalk, but they’d best not step one foot on our property!” Justin announced.

  “Well, your place is a little out of the center of town,” Zach reminded them.

  “But they’re going to start up a trolley tour. I mean, there are already all kinds of tours, but … well, we know that Patricia and some of her friends took one of their tours recently. Patricia was all excited about it. She always said that history was sad and tragic, but that what people liked to twist it all into could be a lot of fun,” Alicia shared.

  “Fun, yeah. Make light of the awful things that happened in the past,” Justin said. “Patricia is young, and sweet, and … today’s teens should get to be young and sweet. I’m sorry. That’s all we’ve got. But if you’re looking for weirdos, those tour operators might be just where you want to start!”

  “Thank you so much for your help,” Skye said sincerely. “And we will investigate the tour company, we promise.”

  Justin and Alicia both nodded solemnly.

  “All right, we’re back to work,” Gavin vowed. “And, of course—”

  “You’ll keep us up on whatever you learn!” Justin said.

  “Of course,” Gavin said.

  They left the apartment building and walked the short distance to the car. Zach leaned forward and asked, “Gavin, what do you know about this tour company?”

  “They’re called Ghastly, Ghostly History,” Gavin said, glancing back at him through the rearview mirror. “The company was opened by Ted and Laurie Sizemore about six months ago. The Sizemore family and Laurie’s family are old-time residents—who knows, if you guys were hanging around here as kids, you might have come across them. The Sizemore family used to own a place on Congress Street that sold all kinds of potions. Ted’s dad had owned the place and operated it as a shop that sold camping equipment. That was before Ted was born, sometime in the 1970s. Anyway, by the time Ted grew up, witchcraft shops were the rave, and so he turned it into a potion shop. He and his wife have done really well; they have a local wiccan, Linda Marino, who pretty much manages—and mans—the whole place herself, leaving them time to start up this new company. They’ve done all the right legal stuff to be legit.”

  “Anyone getting into business of any kind would want to do the right things to keep law enforcement of any kind out of their lives,” Zach said.

  “Zach, the problem here is that they may be entirely innocent of anything except for loving the lore and creating a business from it,” Skye said.

  “And then again … you two need to take a tour!” Gavin asserted. “I mean, they’d know me. I’ve been around too long. But they don’t know you, and it’s unlikely that any tourists who sign up for a tour will know you. You’re a cute couple; you’re in Salem! Naturally, you’ll want to take a cool tour.”

  Skye groaned softly.

  “And you … no shenanigans, Special Agent Erickson!” Gavin said lightly.

  Zach frowned. It’s almost as if Gavin Bruns knew what I’d been thinking when we had parked before walking the last few steps to see Justin and Alicia Bolton.

  Interesting.

  “All right, I’m looking up tour information now, except …” “Except?” Zach asked.

  She looked back at him apologetically. “Sorry, I went down the old rabbit hole.” She glanced over at Gavin as he drove, explaining, “Since we’ve come here, I’ve tried learning everything possible—from different sources—about the trials. This is kind of sad. Tituba was arrested first. The girls probably blamed her because she’d told them stories to entertain them, and since she hadn’t been raised a Puritan, her stories might have been a bit ghostly. They really aren’t sure about Tituba’s background. She might have been taken as a slave from Barbados … No one really knows. She was married to an indigenous man named John Indian. But, okay, think about it. Winters without our modern heating devices, dark as dark can be. The Puritan hardcore belief in evil, in the devil … So she confesses to witchcraft,” Skye continued, paraphrasing from her phone. “Sarah Good and Sarah Osbourne are accused—by Tituba, according to many sources. Okay, now as far as the girls went … Betty Parris and Ann Putnam. They started having fits. The doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Really? Shocking that a doctor in the late 1600s didn’t have every available diagnostic tool possible. Of course, if he couldn’t cure them, it had to be something evil! And so, it all began.

  “But I’m reading a great article that stresses how much these trials had to do with the way we learned that we had to create laws that stopped mass hysteria, possibly fueled by wrongs, imagined or real, that could bring about the executions of so many. Oh, yes, nineteen hanged, Giles Corey pressed to death—and at least five, possibly many more, who died in the disease-ridden and filthy jails! Here’s what I don’t get: Why wasn’t anyone worried about the fact that, if they were indeed witches, they could have struck all their accusers down with a bolt of lightning?”

  “They were afraid of their powers—thus the many people in jail who were chained—and charged for their chains,” Gavin reminded them.

  “No spectral evidence,” Zach murmured, looking at Skye. She turned to look back at him and smiled. “Law enforcement. Even if their gifts allowed them to suspect someone or even see the truth, they needed proof.”

  And thus, they made their way through the academy; they worked cases with other agents before they might be approached by Jackson.

  And it was right. No innocent man or woman should ever be condemned. Being in Salem brought that home more than ever.

  “Okay, we’re here,” Gavin said, drawing into a parking lot.

  There was a large convention center–looking building in front of them. It appeared to be relatively new, and, of course, nice—a great place for a senior dance.

  “They didn’t have the dance at the school?” Skye asked, exiting the car.

  “The school is older, decent, but the rooms here are larger, better suited for having a DJ and the crowning of the king and queen for the year, all that,” Gavin told them. “There’s nothing going on this morning; but by tonight, employees of a giant tech firm will be taking over. So we need to see what we can see now.”

  “Great. Thanks for arranging this so quickly,” Zach told him.

  “Of course,” Gavin said. “This way. I have the code to the side door. Come on in, follow me.”

  They didn’t go through the large entry doors, handsomely flanked by columns and a sign that welcomed people to the new facility. Instead, they walked around to a side entry where Gavin used a code to open a door, keying in a second code once they were inside to prevent any alarms from sounding.

  Every move they made seemed to cause an echo.

  “Wow!” Zach commented. “I have never been in a place this size with no one else in it before.”

  “Hey, Gavin and I are in it!” Skye corrected.

  “Eh, you know what I mean,” he retorted.

  “This is just a breakout room,” Gavin told them. “Come on through here; I’ll show you the main convention hall, the stage, and the side kitchens.”

  He took them through. The place was sparkling clean.

  “They must have the best pickup detail known to man,” Skye said.

  “Yes, they do a good job,” Gavin said. “All these are breakout rooms, then that archway just ahead leads into the main hall.”

  They stepped through the archway. The hall was huge, with a high stage that appeared to be well-equipped.

  “I spoke to the local police chief,” Gavin told them. “They have a giant party here Halloween night with costumes, prizes, music, food, cash bars … He said that it’s insane, but it brings people here when they don’t fit in Salem for the holiday.”

  “I guess a big Halloween party in the area is a moneymaker,” Skye remarked. “It really is a great place. That stage is huge. And I’m willing to bet that it’s equipped with the best in lights, curtains, rigging, you name it. Do they have a theatrical company—”

  “A local community theater is involved right now, and very happily involved. They’re looking forward to becoming professional. And, of course, it can be rented out for concerts and all kinds of venues. Follow me. We’ll take a look at the kitchen and prep rooms and then we can split up and wander at will, if you like.”

  He walked them through the kitchens first, then an enormous pantry, then a prep room that also contained numerous refrigerators and freezers—and even microwaves.

  The main kitchen offered ovens, stovetops, and grills, and numerous counters that sat under lights for plates ready to be taken out to guests who were seated for an elaborate dinner, or for servers to carry out on appetizer trays they might offer around the room when the dance floor had been cleared and the setup was for a more casual evening.

  “It’s an amazing place,” Skye commented.

  Zach wondered how they were going to shake Gavin. There was little he could do here—the place had obviously been scoured since the teenage dance. But Skye …

  “So you should wander at will,” Zach murmured.

  “Right,” Skye replied. She wandered out of the kitchen and into the main hall.

  She stood for several seconds, staring ahead. Then she turned toward the stage, but she didn’t head toward the steps that led up to the raised floor.

  She just looked ahead, keeping her back to both Gavin and Zach.

  Then she turned around and said, “We’re parked in front. But is there a back alley, loading docks, anything like that?”

  “Yeah, sure, of course,” Gavin told them. “We need to go back through the kitchens. Right behind the area with all the equipment, there’s a sliding door that leads to a wide entry; when necessary, a truck can drive up a ramp and right in to make deliveries.”

  “Nicely done,” Zach whispered.

  They followed Gavin as he showed them where a ramp could be set up and a truck could drive right on up to the concrete.

  “Interesting, considering the weight of a truck,” Zach said.

  “The ramp is concrete—it comes up from beneath the ground,” Gavin explained.

  “Okay, that makes more physical sense,” Zach agreed.

  “The door opens back there; and to the side, you can find some steps. I’ll get the sliding door—wait!” Gavin warned as he saw Skye heading to a handle on the metal doors. “Let me put the code in!”

  “Oh, thanks, I’m sorry!” Skye said quickly.

  She looked back at Zach as Gavin went to open the delivery doors for her.

  She had seen something; out here, she would see more.

  “Okay, thanks!” she told Gavin, heading for the steps.

  “Hey, Gavin, maybe you could show me—” Zach began.

  But Gavin was already following Skye. Swearing softly beneath his breath, Zach swiftly followed Gavin as he followed Skye.

  There was a wide alley in the back, framed by a scruffy field. There were scattered trees about, but not thick enough to allow for the ragged field beyond to be called a forest.

  But Skye wasn’t looking at the empty growth to her side.