The Thirteenth Sacrifice (6 page)

“You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Ed asked once they were back in the car.

“The truth,” Samantha said.

“I doubt Dr. Matheson will let us back in for a follow-up without some sort of court order.”

“He can bite me,” Samantha said. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about him. What I care about is that girl knows exactly what happened to her. She’s never going to find any peace or get out of that damn place until she can come to terms with it.”

“Nice theory, but as long as she’s claiming she was attacked by witches, there’s no way they’re ever going to let her go. I think you just did her more harm than good.”

“That’s a matter of opinion, but the truth is always better, no matter how ugly or unexplainable it is.”

“Fine, but if we get blowback for this, you’re explaining that to the captain, not me.”

“Any time.”

A couple of minutes passed while Ed calmed down.
“You were right,” he admitted finally as they turned into the parking lot for their precinct.

“I know I was.”

“Well, don’t expect a medal anytime soon. Let’s focus on cracking Katie and getting this thing solved before it gets any stranger.”

“We’re on the same page there.”

They got out of the car and walked up the station steps just as a news van pulled up. They ducked inside the building before the reporter could climb out. “I wonder why the press is here,” Ed mused.

“I don’t care as long as it has nothing to do with our case,” Samantha said. She doubted they would be so lucky as to escape the press entirely, though. Word would soon be spreading about some of the day’s events.

When they walked in, Joe was standing on the far side of the room. He held up three fingers and pointed toward the hall. He had put Katie in the third interrogation room. Samantha gave him a nod and then cleared her mind as she and Ed headed there. Once inside the room, she sat down across from Katie. The girl looked frightened but still defiant.

“I told you, I don’t know who killed Camille,” she said before they could ask her anything.

“Then maybe you can tell us a little about Sister Mary Ellen,” Ed said.

“Who’s that?” Katie asked.

“A nun at St. Vincent’s,” Samantha replied.

“I don’t know any nuns. I’m not Catholic.”

“Just because you aren’t Catholic doesn’t mean you don’t know any nuns,” Ed said. “She could be a relative, friend of the family, next-door neighbor.”

Katie shook her head. “I told you, I don’t know any nuns. Why do you think I would?”

“Because this particular nun ended up dead, just like Camille.”

Katie flinched. “What?”

“That’s right.” Ed pressed on. “Whoever killed your roommate did the same thing to a nun, right down to the pentagram on the forehead.”

“I—I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Katie said.

“Then why are your hands shaking?” Samantha asked.

“I’m exhausted and I haven’t eaten anything,” Katie said, her eyes on the table.

“Talk to us, Katie, and this will be over faster and we can all get something to eat,” Ed said.

“I don’t know anything.”

“But yet you claim to be a witch,” Ed said. “Shouldn’t this be right up your alley? Shouldn’t you be able to cast a spell and tell us something?”

“I… um… it doesn’t work that way.”

“Then why don’t you tell me how it does work, because clearly I must be watching too much television.”

“It’s like, a religion, you know.”

“So I’ve been told. But you didn’t claim to be a Wiccan; you claimed to be a witch. Big difference. And the symbol on two dead bodies is the same as the one under your bed. Don’t you think that’s kind of strange?”

“Lots of people use pentagrams,” Katie said, trying to sound tough.

“Katie, do you know any practitioners, any
real
ones?” Samantha asked quietly.

Katie stared hard at the table and didn’t say anything, but her shoulders were hunched and she folded her arms across her chest—a protective gesture.

“Katie, if you know something, you need to tell us,” Ed said.

“I don’t know who killed her. I don’t know who would want her dead.”

“Do you know who might want someone like her dead?” Samantha asked.

“No!”

Ed turned to Samantha. “I think the lady protests too much.”

“I’m not! I don’t. I don’t know who killed her.”

“But what if you had to take a wild guess? Who could have killed her?” Samantha asked.

Katie went back to staring at the table.

“Samantha, let’s go get some lunch and let Katie think about who might have done this to her roommate,” Ed said, standing casually.

“You can’t leave me in here!”

“Actually we can. Sooner or later you have to talk to us, Katie.”

He led the way out of the room. As soon as the door was closed he let out a low whistle. “She’s certainly scared of someone.”

“You think? We have to get her to tell us who.”

“Let’s grab a picture of Kyle and see if we can’t shake a name loose from her with that,” he said.

They walked out into the main room. Desks piled high with paperwork were crammed into much of the space. Usually there were half a dozen officers bent over filling out forms, but instead everyone was at the far end of the room, huddled around a television. That was never a good sign.

They walked over and Samantha tapped one of the officers standing on the fringe of the crowd on the shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Witch hunt.”

“You’re kidding me,” she said, praying he was speaking euphemistically.

“See for yourself. Hey, people, clear a path,” he boomed.

Several people shuffled a step or two to the side. There, on the television, was a picture of Katie in full Goth regalia.

“How did they—”

She stopped and stared in horror at live images of Katie’s room, including a close-up of the pentagram drawn on the floor under her bed. Ed shoved his way over to her, saw what she saw, and immediately began barking orders.

“Martinez, Johnson, and Sparks, get your asses over to that apartment now. Secure the crime scene and arrest every newsperson there who just crossed the police tape. Move!”

Officers began scrambling while Samantha pushed closer to the television to hear what was being said.

“—a self-professed witch who has been linked to the murders of at least three people. The suspect is in police custody now, but no word as yet from the authorities on charges.”

“How the hell did they know?” Ed asked.

Samantha shook her head. “Someone called them.”

“The real killer?”

She pointed to the screen. There in the background was a familiar blond figure standing in front of a fraternity house. “No. Distraught girlfriend.”

“Please tell me we’re going to be able to solve this quickly,” Captain Roberts said as he walked out of his office.

“We’re working on it,” Ed said.

“Work faster. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I think it’s going to turn on us.”

“What do you mean?” Samantha asked, studying his
face closely. He looked grim. A shadow hung about him unlike any she had seen there before.

He gestured to the television. “That reporter is crying ‘witch’ and no one is calling her a liar. Last time something like that happened anywhere around here, a lot of innocent people died.”

“This is hardly the sixteen hundreds,” Ed said.

“No, but times are tough and people are on edge. And two things never change. People will always blame other people for their problems, and the worse things are, the more zealous people get. That means trouble in any century.”

“We’re going to have to put her in protective custody,” Samantha said.

“Let’s hope she gives us something that makes it all worth it,” Ed said with a sigh.

“If the real killer doesn’t come after her, someone else might.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said with a weak smile.

“I think she’s a lonely, mixed-up girl who’s gotten in way over her head. She doesn’t deserve to be in the line of fire.”

They walked over to his desk and found a stack of photos from the three crime scenes. They grabbed pictures of each of the three victims and headed back to the interrogation room.

They reclaimed their seats and Ed placed the photos facedown on the table.

“Do you know what’s going on out there?” Ed asked, jerking his head toward the outside.

“A cop convention?” Katie asked.

The girl was trying so hard to be tough, but she just couldn’t pull it off. Samantha almost felt sorry for her.
Still, it was a good thing that Katie wasn’t the seasoned hard case she pretended to be.

“The press is stirring up an angry mob that wants to hunt you down and burn you at the stake, old school.”

Katie’s jaw dropped open. “What?”

“You heard me. There’s a witch hunt going on out there, and by the looks of things, they’re going to skip the whole witch trial and go straight to the execution.”

“People would do that?” The bewildered look on Katie’s face was both sad and comical. “But I’m not a witch, not really.”

“You’ve cried witch so many times that people are starting to believe you, and trust me, they’re pissed,” Ed interjected.

“They’re not going to believe that you didn’t have anything to do with all of this,” Samantha said.

“But I didn’t!”

“But you know who did. You know something. Talk to me, Katie, and we can help you.”

Katie shivered and seemed to fold in upon herself. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered.

“Tell us what you did do,” Ed said, pushing her.

“Look, all I know is I get paid to have a roommate, as long as I screen them special,” Katie said, whimpering. “None of them have ever died before.”

“Do you know that for certain?” Ed demanded. “Where’s your last roommate?”

“I don’t know. She just split, and she stiffed me for the rent.”

Samantha was watching Katie, a quiet horror creeping over her as Katie’s earlier words sank in.

“What are you screening them for?” she asked.

Katie turned to look at her and the girl’s eyes were dilated wide with fear. “Purity.”

“You mean you’re targeting virgins?” Ed asked.

“That’s just part of it,” Samantha whispered and Katie nodded.

“Total purity. No sex, no drugs, no drinking, no smoking, no tattoos, no piercings, not even ears,” Katie said.

“Anything else?” Ed asked, his face turning ash white.

“They have to be religious.”

“You get paid cash to screen your roommates?” Ed repeated.

“Sort of. Just a little bit. There’s other stuff mostly.”

“Who? Who pays you to screen your roommates?” Ed asked Katie.

“They’re witches. Honest, real live witches,” Katie said.

“And how do you know that?” Ed asked sarcastically.

“I met them through a friend of a friend. They’re the real thing. They can do all kinds of stuff.”

“Did they promise to teach you?” Samantha asked.

“No. I asked, but they said they wouldn’t.”

“And you didn’t think that was strange?” Ed asked.

“No. I’m a nothing, a nobody. I don’t have any powers like them.”

And since she doesn’t have any natural power, there’s nothing they could teach her,
Samantha realized grimly.
All they can do is use her.

“You’re dealing with scary people,” Samantha told Katie. “What did you hope to gain from it?”

“Nothing.”

“What was it? Sex, drugs, an adrenaline rush? What?” Ed demanded.

“It was nothing like that!”

Samantha leaned forward. “Look at me, Katie,” she
said, lowering her voice slightly and putting as much authority and conviction into her words as possible.

Katie turned and looked her in the eye. “What was it they promised you?” Samantha asked.

“They told me that they would put… put…” Katie burst into tears.

Samantha studied her for a long minute while the girl cried. Katie had wanted something badly enough that she was willing not to ask questions and to do whatever was asked of her to get it. What could dark practitioners have offered her that she couldn’t get elsewhere?

“What spell did they promise to cast for you?” Samantha asked.

“They said they’d curse Kyle for me.”

“Kyle?” Ed asked, shooting a sideways glance at Samantha.

“My ex-boyfriend. He dumped me on our one-year anniversary. He was cheating on me with this total skank. She said they could put a curse on him, make it so he couldn’t… you know.”

“Make it so he couldn’t what?” Ed asked.

“Make him impotent,” Samantha guessed. When Katie nodded she continued. “Start from the beginning. Tell me who this person was, where and how you met her, and exactly what you agreed to do.”

“Am I in trouble?” Katie asked. She looked at Samantha with wide eyes, and for a moment it was easy to see the confused, scared girl, barely more than a child, and not the defiant young adult who wanted to embrace the darker side of life.

“Yes, you are. And we’re the only ones who can help you,” Samantha said.

Katie whimpered. “They wouldn’t hurt me, would they?”

“What do you think?”

Katie slunk farther down in her chair and wrapped her arms closer around herself. Samantha wanted to reassure her, but it was false hope and she wasn’t in the habit of giving that. Instead she took a deep breath and offered the only comfort she had.

“Katie, if you help us, tell us everything you know, we’ll put you in protective custody.”

Katie shook her head fiercely. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“It’s either talk to us now or talk to the jury later,” Ed said roughly.

Katie’s eyes widened. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Samantha cleared her throat. “Your ex, Kyle—is his last name Nelson?”

“Yeah, why?”

Samantha grabbed the picture. “He was murdered last night, killed by magic,” she said, tossing the photo on the table in front of Katie.

Katie took one look at it, screamed, and then dissolved into hysterical tears. Samantha sat unmoving, making sure Katie got a good look at what her friends had done.

“How could they do this to Kyle?” she finally managed to ask. “I just wanted him to not be able to sleep with that skank. I didn’t want him dead.”