Mind Games (17 page)

Then, suddenly, at four o’clock, it ended. Just like that. Not with a bang, but with a whimper of anticlimax. Everyone seemed to wake from a dream. Those who weren’t already in jail, went home.

“I’m seeing it, but I’m not believing it,” Jane announced, saying what had to be in almost everyone’s mind.

I silently congratulated Matthew on his useful bit of crowd control, though I remembered his warning that this measure could only be temporary. We needed a permanent solution, but just at the moment, I couldn’t help feeling a surge of relief. It didn’t last long – the sheriff called Wesley and me into his office not five minutes later.

“I’ve been on the phone with Mark Roberts most of the afternoon,” Sheriff Adams said. “He has agreed to send his picketers home as long as he feels that we are running a thorough investigation.”

“What, exactly, will convince him that we are running a thorough investigation?” I asked.

Sheriff Adams slid me a computer printout, three pages long, with an alphabetized list of names on it. Instead of looking at it, I looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

“This is a list of possible suspects, according to the pastor.”

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “This isn’t an investigation, it’s a witch hunt, and I sure as hell don’t plan on leading it.”

The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a request. I am aware of your unique background, which is why I want you to be the one to question these suspects. You’re the only deputy I have who understands these people and your name provides you a great deal of protection.”

My eyes narrowed right back at him. “What am I supposed to ask them about, the weather? Or do you really think large numbers of powerful people will stand idly by while I casually accuse them of arson and murder?”

“I trust you to ask your questions in a way that won’t get them upset,” the sheriff said.

I opened my mouth to bite off another retort, but Wesley stopped me with a shake of his head. “This is politics, Cassie. The sheriff needs us to buy us some time to figure this thing out.”

I looked at Sheriff Adams for confirmation and slowly, almost grudgingly, he nodded. “I’m going to personally head the real investigation. You two are basically in charge of keeping things from blowing up in the meantime. I know it’s the weekend, but I need you to get a start on that list first thing in the morning so that I can report your progress. Just don’t feel like you have to get through it quickly.”

More to buy time for my ire to settle than anything else, I glanced down at the list and immediately rolled my eyes. It began with Adams, Jennifer. She was a recent addition to the community, a New Age girl who had come after rumors that she might learn something real in Eagle Rock. Technically, she had a minor gift that allowed her to see auras and a scrap of magical talent that might, if she knew how to use it, give her just enough power to light a candle. Since she didn’t know how to use it, even I could dominate her in a magical contest. Of course, she probably got an invitation to the conclave. I laughed, brushing away the nagging thought.

“What’s so funny?” Wesley asked.

“Nothing.” I drew my finger down the names on the list and began to pass judgment. “Not a threat, not a witch, not a threat, not…” I trailed off as my finger ran across Blackwood, Evan.

“I know you’re angry,” the sheriff said.

I quickly scanned through the list for other familiar names. “Name or no name, I doubt I could approach Jasmine Hewitt without her throwing a curse my way. My family might just be annoyed, but…” I paused and looked up at the sheriff. “Seriously? You put Christina, Adam, and Elena on the list? They’re kids. Christina is only just learning to talk so that people can actually understand what she’s saying.”

For some reason, the sheriff smiled. “Great, then it will take you that much longer to interview her. Just buy me time, Cassie. That’s all I ask.”

Heaving a sigh, I nodded. “All right.” Turning to Wesley I said, “Nine o’clock sound good?”

“I usually get to work at seven thirty,” Wesley said.

“Some of these people will be cranky if we try to track them down too early in the morning, and there are quite a few people on this list that you don’t want to see cranky.”

“Nine it is, then.” Wesley’s face gave nothing away, but I couldn’t help wondering what he had come to believe over the course of a single remarkable week. Maybe unsolved murders in St. Louis weren’t looking so bad after all.

T
HE TENSION OF THE DAY STAYED
with me as I prepared for my date. Madison noticed, but she didn’t say anything about it as she took the curling iron out of my overeager hands and gently brushed my hair into a mass of soft waves that fell around my face. I wore a knee-length cascading chiffon dress with a halter top and beaded empire waist. The color was a sort of soft blue, almost lavender. There isn’t a little black dress in my wardrobe, however classic the style might be.

Matthew picked me up at seven, dressed in casual tailored slacks and a pale green polo top that brought out the green of his eyes. He handed me a bouquet of red roses. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I took the roses, well aware of the meaning and intention behind a sorcerer giving a woman such flowers, but I didn’t mind in the least. As I took the bouquet, my hand brushed against his and somehow, the tension of the day flooded away. “Mmmm.” Better than a massage. The worries remained, in the back of my mind, they just didn’t overwhelm me any longer.

“Feeling better?” Matthew asked.

“Don’t tell me that was just a matter of persuasion,” I said.

“I wouldn’t dream of telling you that.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

We exchanged mindless pleasantries on the way to Hodge Mill which, as usual, was packed on a Friday night. Matthew didn’t have to wait, though. As soon as he walked in the door, the maitre d’ showed us to an intimate table for two in the secondary dining room. This was a smaller dining room reserved for the restaurant’s more exclusive guests. I had rarely eaten back there, despite my family’s exclusive status, because the restaurant did not allow children in the intimate, dimly lit room.

“Your afternoon seemed to go well,” I said as soon as we were seated.

“It went all right. Things are still shaky, but we’ve put off any major conflicts. I just can’t help but feel like someone is fighting us on this.”

“The pastor?” I suggested.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid.” I couldn’t discount his paranoia after what I had seen that afternoon, but I sensed he didn’t want to talk about it. I opened the menu and glanced at the choices, but I already knew what I wanted: the baked salmon with a creamy honey mustard sauce. “You’ll never guess what the sheriff’s going to have me do for the next few days.”

He smiled. “Interview everyone in town that the pastor thinks is into magic?”

Of course he could guess. He knew it as soon as I thought it.

“I knew it sooner than that. My father suggested it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Delaying tactic,” Matthew said. “Like I said, things went all right, but it’s not a permanent solution. Um, my name’s not on that list, is it?”

I shook my head. “As far as I know, most people think you’re clean.”

“Someone knows. We might not be on the list the sheriff gave you, but we’re on Alexander’s list.”

I winced. “Are you going?”

Before he had a chance to respond, the waiter came over to take our drink order.

“I won’t be going,” Matthew reassured me after he’d gone. “I’m not too happy about being on that list, but I’m definitely not going to put myself on display for…”

Matthew suddenly stopped. His gaze was fixed on a point over my shoulder, at the entrance to the dining room. I started to turn to look at what had captured his attention, but he put a hand on mine to still my movement. There might have been a jolt of command to go along with it, but I didn’t accuse him.

“What is it?” I asked.

He didn’t have to answer. The maitre d’ showed three men to the table next to ours. Two were strangers: one middle-aged man with thick brown hair and one older gentleman with distinguished, graying hair.

I knew the third, younger man all too well. Evan Blackwood was only a day older than me, with dark, almost black hair that fell to his shoulders in waves and blue eyes that bore into mine with aching familiarity.

It seemed everyone in the small secondary dining room had turned to stare at the trio, but the dozen or so sets of eyes weren’t riveted on Evan. The distinguished gray-haired stranger, whoever he was, had a commanding presence and melting smile that made you want to do whatever he asked. A lot like an adorable six-year-old I knew. I could fight Adam’s charisma, but it made me feel awful, as if I’d just kicked a puppy. This man possessed the same strength and a lot more experience.

“Hello, Cassie,” Evan said, just as if he wasn’t at all surprised to see me. He probably wasn’t.

The distinguished man smiled at me, turning his charm to the max. “Evan, can you introduce me to your friends?”

“This is Cassie Scot and Matthew Blair. I think I’ve mentioned both to you before. Cassie and Matthew, this is Alexander DuPris, who is here to try to make some positive changes in our community. And this is his associate, Tyler Lake.”

Matthew gritted his teeth, showing an open hostility I had never seen in him before. “Everything’s working great for me, thanks.”

“I’m sure it is,” Evan said, looking meaningfully at me.

“Please, don’t hold back,” I said. “Not on my account. What, exactly, are you implying?”

Evan raised his hands in mock innocence. “Nothing at all.”

“Why don’t the two of you join us for dinner?” Alexander asked, gesturing at a nearby table for six that lay empty. “I just got into town this afternoon and I’ve been eager to talk to the locals about their hopes, dreams, and concerns.”

“My hopes were to have a pleasant dinner with a beautiful woman,” Matthew said. “But I think you’ve made that more difficult.” He stared directly at Alexander, challenging him. “Evan hurt her recently, you see, so I would be grateful if you would decide to have dinner someplace else.”

“This is a public establishment,” Alexander said. “And a small town. You must have expected this possibility.”

“I didn’t expect you to notice or care who I am. Who told you?” Matthew shot Evan a meaningful look.

“Evan seemed to think you would be particularly interested in what I’ve come here to say,” Alexander said, his tone still calm, a smile still fixed to his face. “He’s been quite helpful.”

After that, I began to lose track of the conversation. There was an undercurrent to it that went far beyond the words. In fact, I don’t think the words themselves mattered at all. At one point, I think they might have made meaningless observations about the weather, and at another point, I’m sure I heard Alexander say he liked ice cream.

There wasn’t anything to see. The scene wouldn’t have worked in a movie at all and yet, as an observer in that room, I felt the warring power.

After a few minutes, the room began to empty. Customers left in the middle of their meals, many forgetting to pay in their hurry to leave. The wait staff hovered outside the door, but dared not enter.

“Shall we call it a draw?” Alexander asked after a while.

Matthew noticed the empty room then, and nodded. When he did, the palpable forces in the room went silent. “A draw it is, but I think we’re going to have to compensate the restaurant for the exclusive use of this dining room.”

Alexander nodded his agreement, and the five of us sat around the larger table. I chose the seat farthest from Evan, but that meant he sat directly across from me in my field of vision.

The waiter hurried forward to set drinks in front of Matthew and me, then took the newcomers’ drink orders before scurrying away.

Alexander turned his attention toward me. ”Scot, is it? I assume you’re one of the reportedly powerful Scots who seem to be trying to prevent me from speaking without even hearing what I have to say?”

I didn’t even bat an eye. “No.”

He frowned. “No?”

“No, Mr. DuPris. I’m just a humble deputy here in Eagle Rock.”

He clearly did not believe me. “Where is all this secrecy really getting us?”

“Are you calling me a liar?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I would like to know how a ‘humble deputy’ can afford that dress.”

I glanced down at the designer dress I wore, part of the wardrobe my family had purchased for me before I moved out on my own. I hadn’t bought any new clothes since moving out, not after I started taking a serious look at price tags. Sooner or later I would have to, though, and my standards would have to come way down.

“However much my dress might cost,” I said evenly, “I have not tried to prevent you from saying anything you like.”

“Touché,” Alexander said. “Your parents, then?”

“Maybe. Why don’t you try talking to them about their concerns? This really doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

Before he had a chance to respond, the waiter came back with their drinks. After we placed our orders, Matthew rushed to my defense. “I agreed to sit here with you to hear you out, not to have you harass my date.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t say I was harassing her.” Alexander offered me a wide smile, turning up the charm.