He walked around the house, checking all the locks again. When he returned to the parlor he saw Mina standing there, smiling beatifically.

  “I’m here, so go to sleep,” she told him.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Mina wagged a finger at him. “And don’t let anything happen to her.”

  “I won’t. I swear,” he said.

  “Get on then, go to bed.”

  Who was he to argue with a ghost?

  * * *

  Maybe it was because Auntie Mina had made her think about The Wizard of Oz. Whatever, Devin’s mind had gone into theater mode.

  She slept easily—not as easily as when she was curled up against Rocky, but easily enough, knowing he was near. And in her dreams, she was at the theater.

  Perhaps the first play should have been The Scarlet Letter or The Crucible. But she had gone into the Shakespearean realm instead.

  Macbeth.

  Three witches stood over a cauldron, stirring away. “Double, double toil and trouble.”

  Then the Shakespearean part was over as the witches turned to look at something glowing red in the background. They bowed and scraped, and the steam issuing from their great cauldron took on a misty red hue...a crimson glow, as if blood had painted the very air. Then the red mist began to fade, and Devin saw what the witches had been staring at. A giant, horned goat-god, crimson and terrifying, perched upon a throne with a staff in his hand.

  Satan, as the Puritans had envisioned him.

  The crones continued to bow and scrap before the devil. Then they offered up chalices filled with the molten red liquid from their cauldron.

  Fire burn, and cauldron bubble....

  The words resonated in Devin’s ears.

  And then, one by one, the witches spoke.

  “For life eternal.”

  “Riches eternal.”

  “Luck and love eternal.”

  The giant red goat-god stood and took the offerings. He began to move, and Devin saw herself as if from above, sitting in the audience, watching, and yet, as she watched...

  The goat-god turned to her.

  And smiled.

  She woke with a start, gasping for air.

  She was in her own room, of course, and she realized she hadn’t screamed or Rocky would have been there already, no doubt with his gun drawn. A glow through the curtains told her that the sun was rising.

  She stood up, walked to the windows and opened the drapes. She could see the garden, wilted from the summer heat, the little stone path that led to the road...

  And the forest off to the left.

  Someone, she thought with complete certainty—and not the innocents who had died—had been practicing black magic in Salem.

  And they had gotten away with murder.

  * * *

  The rest of the Krewe arrived just as Devin and Rocky began making breakfast.

  She had told him about her dream, and Auntie Mina had materialized to listen in, then told her to study her dreams, because dreams were often a result of the subconscious mind trying to put together what the conscious mind was also attempting to puzzle out. And then Devin’s stomach had growled. Embarrassed, she said it was clearly time for breakfast.

  Luckily she had shopped recently. When she’d told him she was going to make omelets—her forte—and he’d told her the Krewe was coming early and they should go somewhere, she’d been able to smile and tell him they had plenty of food. He put on coffee, worked the toaster and dealt with the bacon, while she whipped up fluffy omelets filled with cheese, veggies and bacon to order.

  As they ate, everyone reported that the night had been quiet.

  “Have you spoken to Jack? Were they able to find out anything about the attack on Beth Fullway?” Sam asked.

  “I’ll call him after breakfast, but I’m pretty sure they’ve come up empty,” Rocky said. “If they had anything, Jack would have called me.”

  “What’s on the agenda for today?” Angela asked him.

  “I’m going to pair you and Jane up to reinterview Carly Henderson’s family and see if we can trace her movements. It made sense that Barbara Benton and Hermione Robicheaux were anxious to take a tour. They had roots here but didn’t really know the area,” Rocky said. “But Carly lived here, so I can’t see her paying to walk around town with a bunch of tourists and listen to a lecture on history. We need to find out where she was before she was killed, and so far no one has come up with anything. I’m not saying the police didn’t try and try hard, but I’m hoping you guys can come up with a new angle. Her family and friends were used to her going to work and coming home, or maybe going out with friends first, but something different happened that night, and I’m counting on the two of you to figure it out.

  “Sam, you and Jenna need to hit the local streets again—you may have better luck than the police finding out what happened to Beth yesterday.”

  “Gotcha,” Sam said.

  Once their assignments were settled, Rocky told them about the book he had been reading.

  “Would someone really have dared to practice black magic here in the middle of the witch trials?” Jane wondered.

  “I’m pretty sure someone did,” Devin said. “I’m not a hundred percent sure how I know that, I just know I do. And if there was a member of the Strega of Satan here at the time and they needed their six victims...” She looked around the table, then started counting. “One—Margaret Nottingham. Two—Melissa Wilson. Three—Carly Henderson. Four—Barbara Benton. And five—Hermione Robicheaux.”

  “So...one more to go,” Rocky said. “We have to find out what’s going on before there’s a sixth victim. I started thinking last night that our killer began with Margaret Nottingham but didn’t get any further. Maybe he was arrested, maybe he fled to avoid arrest. Maybe he just chickened out when he discovered killing someone wasn’t as easy as he thought. Then, years later, someone decided the world wasn’t going well for them—someone seriously warped, obviously—decided that he could have power and riches in hell if he finished the sacrificial cycle.”

  “So he killed Melissa,” Devin said. “But that was thirteen years ago. And then he stopped. Why?”

  “Maybe he was afraid of being caught. Or things changed. He got sick or something. And then recently everything fell back into place,” Rocky said. “Or maybe we’re looking at Theo. I’m going to ask Jack for more help on that angle.”

  “We do know our killer knows his history,” Jane said.

  “So where do we find you?” Sam asked Rocky.

  “I’d like to stop by the hospital,” Devin told Rocky. “See if Beth needs a ride home or anything.”

  “Of course.” He turned to Sam. “After that, we’ll be hanging around Essex Street, just watching and listening. Let’s pray that one of us finds something tangible today.”

  * * *

  They never made it to the hospital. Rocky was driving and Devin was next to him when her phone rang. It was Beth sounding cheerful and completely recovered.

  “I’m out! They let me go first thing this morning.”

  “That’s great, Beth,” Devin said, looking at Rocky and waving a hand in the air to signify that they were no longer going to the hospital. “But you were hit pretty hard. You have to take care of yourself.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And don’t be alone!”

  “I’m not alone. I’m with Gayle and Theo at the store.”

  “I’m not so sure you should be at work so soon,” Devin said.

  “You want me to be alone at home? Gayle has to be here. I don’t want to go broke on top of this—I have to keep the store open. So just come by and see me, why don’t you?”

  Rocky must have heard Beth speaking, because he smiled at her and nodded.

  “We’ll be there soon,” Devin told her.

  A few minutes later they reached the parking garage, and as they got out of the car, Devin asked, “Explain to me exactly what we’re doing today?”

  “Just keeping our eyes and ears open, stopping in to see people just to read how they’re doing. And if you don’t mind, at some point I want to visit a cemetery,” he said. “I’d like to bring flowers to Melissa.”

  “Of course.”

  They walked along the street—busy by day—glancing into the shop and museum windows. When he laughed at the cheesiness of some of the gorier museums, she pointed out that they did a booming business with teenagers. And while some of the others might not have a lot of money behind them, they still did a great job at accurately presenting the area’s history.

  When they walked into Beth’s shop, she was sitting in a chair behind the counter. Theo was nearby arranging dried herbs in a display case. Devin tried not to stare at him suspiciously—or to shout, “Dammit! Are you the killer?”

  She managed to call a quick hello to Theo, then hurried over to give Beth a hug.

  “Look at me,” Beth said. “I look good, right?”

  “Fantastic,” Devin assured her.

  “You’d never know a thing happened to her,” Theo said, coming over.

  Beth smiled at Rocky. “You know, I never thanked you two. I could have lain there forever!”

  “Actually, you would have come to eventually—though with a hell of a headache,” Rocky said. “Just don’t overdo it today, okay?”

  Gayle emerged from the back, smiling. “She’s amazing, our Beth. A real trouper.”

  “Since you’re here...” Rocky said, smiling as he leaned on the counter and looked over at Gayle. “When am I getting my pentagram necklace?”

  “Rocky! You sound like a broken record,” Beth said. “I told you. As soon as—”

  “I wasn’t asking you, Beth. I’m sorry—I was asking Gayle,” he said.

  “What?” Gayle said.

  “You are the artist, right?”

  “No, no, I—” She broke off and stared at Rocky. “Okay, I’m the artist. How did you know?”

  “The way you looked at Beth that day when I asked,” Rocky said pleasantly. “And you do know a lot about them. Make one for me, will you—please?”

  Gayle flushed. “Yes, yes, of course. You know you can buy them all over Salem.”

  “Not like yours.”

  Rocky really was very good, Devin thought. If she hadn’t already known he was playing Gayle, she never would have noticed.

  “That’s very sweet of you,” she said.

  “Nope—just true,” he said. “You’re a terrific artist. You should stop hiding your identity. Let people know who you are. That would mean—”

  “That I’d be swamped,” Gayle told him. “Please, keep it a secret.”

  “All right, I promise,” Rocky said solemnly. He chatted with her for a few more minutes and then said, “Well, we’re off. We’re visiting a cemetery.”

  “Historic?” Gayle asked.

  “Anything from the past is historic, isn’t it?” Rocky asked lightly. “Melissa Wilson was a friend of mine. She was the first victim of the killer. We’re going to visit her.”

  “I remember,” Beth said. “I was only thirteen or fourteen, but I remember.”

  “I’m really sorry you lost a friend,” Theo said to Rocky.

  “She was a good kid,” Rocky said. “But enough about sad things. What are you all up to now that Beth’s been sprung?”

  “Hoping for a busy day here at the store, and tonight, after we close, some cleaning,” Beth said. “I promise I’m going to sit in my chair and supervise.”

  “Cleaning? Really? That’s the best you can come up with for your first night out of the hospital?” Rocky asked.

  “Why? Do you have something more exciting to offer for the evening?” Theo asked.

  “No, not really. I think Devin wants to do some housecleaning, too.”

  “What about your fellow agents?” Beth teased. “Don’t they want to party?”

  “They’re pretty exhausted, to tell you the truth. Working this case has been stressful. I expect they’ll be heading back to the hotel to get some sleep,” Rocky said.

  “I talked to your friend this morning—Jack Grail,” Beth said. “They still don’t have anything on what happened to me. I know the attack on me might not be related to the murders, but if it is...” She trailed off and shivered. “I was very lucky.”

  “You definitely were,” Rocky agreed. “But now we really have to go. We’ll see you soon.”

  Devin and Beth hugged goodbye, and then he put his hand on Devin’s shoulder and guided her out of the store.

  “Cemetery?” she asked.

  “In a little while,” he told her. “I just want to check in on one more person.”

  “So we’re saying hi to Brent again?”

  “Yep.”

  Brent smiled when they walked in and chatted comfortably. He definitely didn’t seem to be expecting to be invited down to the station again.

  They didn’t stay long, and their next stop was the florist a few doors down, where Rocky bought flowers.

  They had lunch at a place just off the pedestrian mall, and then drove out to the cemetery. Melissa Wilson had been buried in Peabody, alongside various members of her family.

  There were already flowers in a metal vase by Melissa’s headstone, though they were beginning to wilt. Rocky knelt down and replaced them with the fresh ones, then remained down on one knee for a minute.

  When he stood, he looked at Devin. She realized he was waiting.

  “Anything?” he asked her.

  She shook her head and looked around the old cemetery. A huge oak dipped long branches toward the ground. The scene was both beautiful and forlorn. She knew he was hoping she could see Melissa—that perhaps, though he obviously couldn’t, she could somehow communicate with his long-gone friend.

  But the cemetery was empty.

  “I think you should be glad,” Devin said softly. “She’s gone on. Wherever she is, she’s at peace. Maybe she’s even praying for us here.”

  He nodded. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it.

  After a moment he took her hand and they left the cemetery.

  “One more stop,” he said when they were back in the car.

  “Oh?”

  “Vince,” he told her.

  “But you cleared him.”

  “I’m still checking on everyone,” Rocky said.

  Devin looked forward and nodded. “I’m all yours.”

  He turned to her with a grin. “I like the sound of that,” he said.

  Then he looked toward the road again and she wondered just what he’d meant. She didn’t ask. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Rocky, if you end up running into a brick wall, how long will they let you stay?” she asked.

  He glanced her way. “Stop worrying. I’m not leaving—not until this is solved.”

  They stopped by Vince’s office. The receptionist announced them, and Vince came out to meet them and lead them back to his office. It certainly was plush, she thought. The chairs were deep and comfortable; his diplomas were displayed, and maritime art decorated the walls.

  “Sit, sit,” Vince told them. “Nice surprise—or are you here to question me again, Rocky?”

  “No. I just keep hoping that one of us—you, me or Jack—might think of something. A small detail. Something from years ago that could help.”

  “That would be helpful,” Vince agreed dryly.

  “You heard about the attack yesterday, right?” Rocky asked him.

  “I did. How is your friend Devin? She seemed very sweet, and she certainly didn’t deserve what happened to her,” Vince said.

  “She’s already back at work. Thank you for asking,” Devin said.

  “I’m glad,” Vince said. “A mugger?” he asked Rocky.

  “Nothing taken,” Rocky said.

  “Scared off, probably. You don’t think it’s related, do you?” Vince asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rocky said. “Anyway, I just stopped by to see if you’d thought of anything. If you do, no matter how small and seemingly inconsequential, let me know. We’re staying at Devin’s cottage, so call tonight if you remember something.”

  After that they said their goodbyes and headed back to the house, stopping on the way to pick up pizza for dinner. He ordered a lot of pizza, and Devin asked, “Is the Krewe coming back?”

  “Yeah, somewhere along the line. But before they show up, I want to call Jack.”

  “You believe in Jack’s innocence, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, his alibi is ironclad. For the one murder, at least, but so long as we’re only looking at one killer, that’s all it takes. Plus, I believe the attack on Beth is connected somehow, and Jack was with me when it happened.”

  “Theo?” she asked.

  “I admit I’m looking in that direction. He’s the only one of the group left, so if it’s not him, that means we’re way off base and pretty much have to start all over again. But he has access to anything he wants at the store. So far we haven’t come up with an alibi for him, though we haven’t asked him for one, either. The bartender—Judah Baker—saw him there with Gayle and Beth the night Barbara was killed. Theo says he’s not from here, but he is. He went away and came back, and that fits our killer’s timing. Whichever way you look at it, he fits.”

  “Are you going to arrest him? Or take him down to the station like you did Brent?”

  “Not yet. But tomorrow, I’m going to have you ask Beth if we can search the store. I don’t think I have enough for a warrant on his house, but I’m going to try to get him talking, see if maybe he lets something slip.”

  * * *

  Rocky called Jack as soon as they got back to the house and asked him to come over, and Jack showed up a little while later.

  They sat down and passed out pizza, and Rocky slowly and thoroughly laid out everything they had, including their theory about a contemporary killer picking up where Margaret’s killer had left off.

  “And your suspicions are turning toward Theo Hastings?” Jack asked when Rocky had finished.

  “Yes.”

  Jack groaned. “I start talking about something like that around here and everyone is going to think that I’m persecuting Wiccans.”

  “Not Wiccans, Jack. Wiccans don’t run around killing anyone.”