Waking the Witch
Page 45

“Voodoo?”
“Kind of. Claire said it wasn’t voodoo but something else.”
“Santeria?”
“That’s it.”
“So Claire knew.”
“Yeah, but ... It was weird. She wasn’t too fussed about it. She said she’d talked to a friend, who explained that it was just a kind of religion. It freaks me out, though.”
“Do all the girls know about it?”
Vee shook her head. “I just told Claire because she was my roommate, and she seemed smart, so I wanted to hear what she thought. I’m the only one who knows. Except Alastair. He ... he helps Megan sometimes. With the rituals and stuff. They do them in a room behind the shed, late at night, when everyone’s sleeping. I saw them once. I think that’s why Alastair likes Megan so much. She’s cast a spell on him.”
I struggled to keep a straight face and nodded. Why are humans so enamored with the myth of love spells? Even at my most desperate, I wouldn’t have been tempted by a spell to make Adam fall in love with me. My ego is way too healthy for that.
I asked Vee what she’d seen. There was nothing, though, to suggest Megan and Alastair were more than typical adherents doing typical protection rituals, like the one in the shed.
“They do sacrifices,” she said, when I didn’t seem impressed enough. “That’s what Claire told me.”
“Animal sacrifices.”
“So she said.”
“You think Megan had something to do with the murders?”
She shifted in her seat.
“Did you hear anything that might suggest a ritualistic link?”
“No, but ...”
I waited. Nothing.
“But ...” I prompted.
“Alastair was gone the night those town girls died.” She blurted it as fast as she’d told me about the Santeria. “I got up for a glass of milk. I don’t sleep too well. When I was in the kitchen, I heard the door open. It was Alastair. He looked ... sick. He looked sick.”
“Was Megan with him?”
“No, but do you really think she’d take care of the bodies? She had him do it. She killed those girls in a voodoo ritual, then she made him take the bodies into town. It wasn’t his fault. He had to protect her.”
There were a lot of holes in this theory. Still, it bore investigating.
“Did you tell anyone else?” I asked.
“Just my roommate. She left after that. I think it freaked her out.”
Claire’s friend, Tamara. I doubted it was a coincidence that Claire had ended up rooming with Vee. If the cult was as popular as they claimed, Tamara’s spot would have been filled before Claire decided to investigate. She must have maneuvered to get the same roommate as her friend.
“What about Claire?” I asked. “Did you tell her what you saw?”
“No.” The denial came fast. In other words, yes, she had and she feared that’s what got Claire killed.
“Did you know Claire was investigating the group?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Claire was Tamara’s friend from college. Tamara disappeared after she left you, and Claire joined the group trying to find out what happened. She thought it had something to do with Ginny and Brandi’s murders.”
Vee’s eyes shuttered. “I didn’t know that.”
And she didn’t like finding out now. It meant that Claire had been nice to her for a reason.
“Did you ever see Claire with Cody Radu?” I asked. “I heard something about the two of them arguing. If that’s true and Claire was investigating, it could mean Alastair had nothing to do with the deaths.”
“They did. The day before she died. At the hardware store. Claire went in, saying she needed something. I was with Megan. She looked in the window and saw them go out back together. Later Megan came to our room and told Claire to stay away from Cody. Said he was trouble.” She hesitated, then looked at me. “What if Megan did kill those girls and she figured out that Claire was snooping around, looking for the killer? That’d be bad for Claire.”
Way too many holes in that theory, too, but it confirmed that Claire had been with Cody. And if Megan knew it, maybe there was something there.
 
 
twenty-four
 

Next stop: Paula Thompson, for a little chat about her dead daughter’s paternity. I’d barely gone a block when my cell phone rang. “Ms. Levine?”
I recognized the woman’s voice, but definitely not the meek tone.
“It’s Tiffany Radu,” she said.
“Yes?”
“I—” A deep breath sighed through the line. “I need to speak to you. Can—can we meet?”
“Sure, how about the diner—”
“No. I mean in private. I heard about Detective Kennedy and ... oh, God.” A broken sob. “Please, can we meet in private, before I change my mind?”
“Okay. My motel—”
A shaky laugh. “The last thing I need is to be seen sneaking into a seedy motel room. There’s an empty building downtown that my husband’s company owns. Can I meet you there?”
“Sure. My partner should be back any minute. I’ll get him to drive me—
“It’s within walking distance, if you’re near the diner. And I’d really, really rather you didn’t tell anyone you’re meeting with me. I don’t want Cody to find out.”
“Understandable. What’s the address?”
 
DAMN, TIFFANY WAS quite the little actress. A bit high school, with all the sighs and sobs, but still pretty damn good.
Yes, I knew it was an act. Come on. The bitch goes from clawing me to begging for help? Sure, something traumatic might have happened. But wanting to meet in an empty building? And not tell anyone? That was a tip-off only a moron would miss.
I picked up my pace.
 
AS I WALKED, I got another call. “Ship of Fools,” meaning it was someone in my secondary address book—the hidden one for contacts Paige and Lucas wouldn’t want to know about.
“Druid,” Molly announced when I answered.
“What?”
She sighed, and said, more slowly. “Druid. That ritual you sent. A pewter ingot in the hand is part of very ancient druidic sacrificial rituals. My source tells me they fell out of use centuries ago.”