When they were still a block away, the sisters could see a police cruiser and an unmarked car parked outside their house. Their legs got rubbery and heavy as they stumbled across their front yard. They saw their mother standing at the door in a tatty old bathrobe, surrounded by officers and Agent Simms. Samantha’s hair was a ball of angry red tangles and her eyes swam with confusion that bordered on hysteria.
“Girls!” she called out, the pitch of her voice sliding up to a shriek. “It’s your father!”
Lily and Juliet stopped running at the same time. They knew instinctively that running wouldn’t help anyway. Their father was already dead.
CHAPTER
8
The police were there for hours. Tristan and Rowan got questioned first. Rowan, because he didn’t have any form of identificat
ion he could give to the police, and Tristan, because the authorities had gotten accustomed to suspecting him of foul play where the Proctor family was concerned. Rowan handled the questions calmly. Tristan was defensive and confrontational, especially with Simms.
At some point, the police turned their attention to Lily. They told her that they knew about the bonfires on the beach. They’d also heard that odd things were happening down there. Strange, howling noises had been reported, and eerie, pulsing lights had been seen from a distance.
Lily could barely discern their muffled questions through the monotonous hum that had taken over her mind. She saw their lips moving, but it took time for her to string their words together. In her thoughts she played the “nightmare” she’d had about her dad over and over.
The beating he’d taken had been real. The blood. The begging. Carrick’s face looming above—watching the pain he inflicted with such hungry interest. And she had ignored it. She could have found him, saved him, but she hadn’t believed it could be real. She hadn’t believed Lillian would ever go that far. Her father had never understood why he was being hurt, but Lily understood. Now she did, anyway.
“Miss Proctor? Lily?” an officer asked.
“She’s in shock,” someone else answered.
Lily realized they were talking about her and sat up straighter. “Bonfire,” she repeated. She looked at the faces of the officers and realized that she was alone with them. They’d separated her from the rest of the group.
Rowan?
There you are! You fell so deeply into yourself I couldn’t reach you. You really scared me. Don’t give them any information, Lily.
I don’t even understand what they’re saying.
Good. Say that to them. Say you don’t understand what’s going on. Say we were on the beach for fun.
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Lily parroted numbly.
The officers exchanged looks. Simms sat down opposite Lily, and the look on her face was of real concern. “The nature of your father’s death points to certain ritualistic practices,” she said carefully.
“What does that mean?”
“Tell us about your friends Rowan and Tristan,” Simms said, ignoring Lily’s question.
Lily shook her head slowly. “Tell you what about them?”
“Well, for instance, who had the idea to start building bonfires?”
“I’m pretty sure kids have been building bonfires on the beach since there was a such thing as fire,” Lily replied. “I don’t know who suggested it first.”
The officers exchanged more looks. “Have you ever heard of Wicca?”
Lily burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said, collecting herself. “This is Salem. Of course I’ve heard of it.”
“Your father was beaten savagely by an unusually strong person and he was found with symbols cut into his skin,” Simms said. Her tone turned on a dime when she saw Lily flinch. She looked at Lily with compassion. “You know your mother is very unstable.”
“Where is she?” Lily asked urgently.
“Sleeping. Your sister, Juliet, gave her a sedative when she got, ah, confused,” said one of the other officers gently. They pitied her. Lily could see it in their eyes.
“You know the sooner we catch whoever did this, the easier it will be on her,” Simms continued. She always knew there was more to this story, and now she was determined to hear it. “I know you have relationships with these two boys, and that your group of friends got very close very quickly. You may feel loyalty to them, but think about your mother. Please, talk to me. Tell me what happened to you. You didn’t go to some Native American holistic clinic, did you. Lily, there’s a cauldron hanging in your fireplace. Tell me what Tristan and Rowan did to you.”