Swinging the door open, I was greeted by a small huddle on my front porch. Apparently, Ariel’s coven believed in safety in numbers, and they had elected to descend upon us as a group. Turning, I commanded our two boisterous canines to sit. They immediately planted themselves where they stood, though Quigley, the Australian cattle dog, continued to whine quietly. With the commotion settled, I returned to the task at hand and pushed the screen door open with a smile.
“Rowan Gant?” a young brunette queried.
“That’s me,” I answered. “Come on in.”
I held the door as the five of them filed in and proceeded to nervously mill about in my living room. I closed the door, turned to our guests, and noticed that there were no familiar faces.
“How many more of you should we be expecting?” I asked.
“This is it,” replied the brunette guardedly. She had apparently been elected speaker for the group. “Except for R.J.”
“I noticed he was missing,” I returned, smiling. “Didn’t he come with you?”
“No,” she answered. “We aren’t sure where he is. He called all of us and said to be here at seven tonight.”
“Well,” I proceeded, “I’m sure he’s just running a little late.” I held out my hand to her. “Since he’s not here to do the introductions, I suppose we should do that ourselves. Obviously, you have me at a bit of a disadvantage…”
“Calliope,” she said, taking my hand. “But everyone calls me Cally.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Cally proceeded solemnly around the group, and I was introduced to Shari and Jennifer, two blonde young women who were obviously identical twins. Continuing, I met a tall, lanky young man with hair the color of a ripened tomato named Randy and finally, his wife, a statuesque woman with dark, penetrating eyes and coal black hair. Her name was Nancy. I led them through the archway into our dining room and repeated the introductions for Felicity and Ben.
“So where’s the kid?” Ben asked, referring to R.J. as he surveyed the group.
“He seems to be running a little late,” I told him, adding a sharp look to encourage a bit more tact.
“Why doesn’t everyone have a seat and get comfortable,” Felicity interjected, slicing surgically through the tension in the room then motioning to the serving platters on the table. “If anyone is hungry, please help yourself. That’s what it’s here for.”
We had installed both leaves in the table, and it was more than large enough to accommodate the small gathering comfortably. There was a noticeable amount of distance kept by the group between themselves and us, especially Ben. I had a feeling that the brushed stainless, nine-millimeter pistol nestled under his arm in a shoulder holster played a role there, as he had draped his jacket over a chair, leaving the handgun exposed. He had done this purposely, I was sure, using it as an intimidation tactic on this youthful group.
It was apparent that the four young women had attempted to apply an appropriate amount of makeup to their faces in order to disguise the fact that they had been crying. It was also obvious, even to a casual observer, that Randy had shed a few tears as well.
“I’m not gonna stand on ceremony,” Ben announced with a shrug, then reached out and grabbed a sandwich.
“Aye, do you have a hollow leg or something?” Felicity gave him an astonished look. “You just ate three sandwiches less than forty-five minutes ago!”
“Don’t get decent food that often,” he told her between bites. “I’m not home that much.”
“Don’t let Cochise over here scare you,” I told the group. “Dig in. We need to wait for R.J. anyway.”
Quietly, one by one, they helped themselves to the food before them. They ate mainly in silence; uttering only necessary polite phrases required whenever offered a drink, or more to eat. It was rapidly approaching eight P.M. when the doorbell finally sounded again. Felicity brought the dogs to rapt attention as they once again began to howl, and I excused myself from the table.
As expected, R.J. was on the opposite side of the door when I pulled it open. He smiled sheepishly and pulled open the screen door.
“We were starting to wonder about you,” I told him quietly as he stepped inside.
“I’m sorry, man,” he apologized and looked around nervously. “I saw Cally’s van out front. Is everyone here?”
“Yeah,” I answered, shutting the door. “We were just waiting on you. Everyone’s in there.”
I pointed to the dining room, and he advanced around the corner with a solemn expression and joined them at the table. Something definitely seemed different about R.J. since I had last seen him, and I wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad. In any event, before he had ever exited the living room, my ears discerned a low growl followed by a throaty yowl and hiss. I turned and looking up at the rafters, saw Salinger glaring down at R.J., ears laid back and tail twitching. Animals being considered by some as good judges of character, I took note. Something about R.J. had set Salinger off. Fortunately, for the moment, I was the only one who noticed.
“Where ya’ been, kid?” Ben was asking as I rounded the corner into the dining room.
“I had some stuff to do,” R.J. answered as he took a seat next to Cally.
“You couldn’t call?” Ben retorted.
“I was busy, okay?!” The young man spat indignantly. “It’s not like I’m under arrest or something, or am I?”
“It can be arranged!” Ben challenged, starting to rise from his chair.
“All right, all right, all right,” I intervened. My voice rose with each syllable, and I motioned him to sit back down. “Before this goes any further, let’s all calm down. Now, R. J…” I looked over at him. “It would have been common courtesy for you to call and let us know you were running late.” I turned to my simmering friend. “And Ben, no one here is under arrest to my knowledge, right?”
“Right,” he answered grudgingly.
“Sorry I didn’t call,” R.J. muttered.
“I know everyone is on edge here.” Felicity reinforced my intrusion into the dispute. “But going at each other like that isn’t going to accomplish anything.”
“Listen,” Ben offered. “Maybe I was outta line jumpin’ on R.J. like that, but I’ve just got this thing about bein’ on time.”
The group looked silently around at one another then back at him. They all seemed too tightly strung but quietly nodded in assent.
“Okay then,” he proceeded. “We might as well get started then. I’ve already been through this with R.J., so I’ll ask the rest of ya’. When was the last time you saw Ariel Tanner alive?”
“See, I told you,” R.J. announced haughtily. “The cops are trying to blame it on us!”
“Do you intend to Mirandize us, Detective Storm,” Cally interjected bluntly.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess.” Ben threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. “Law student.”
Cally held her position at the table, but the look on her face showed that Ben had just exposed what she believed to be a trump card. It became immediately obvious why she had been picked as the speaker for the group. Now that he had knocked some of the wind from her sails, I hoped we could get on with what had brought us all together.
“I already told ya’,” Ben explained. “Nobody here is bein’ accused of anything. These are just routine questions. As for Miranda, since nobody is under arrest, there’s no reason to read anyone their rights. We just wanna talk to ya’ about Ariel Tanner and Devon Johnston. Okay?”
“There’s no reason for any of you to be on the defensive,” I added. “We’re all on the same side. We just want to find whoever is responsible for Ariel’s death.”
Once again they cast timid glances between themselves. Finally, someone other than Cally spoke up.
“So this isn’t just some shakedown ‘cause of us being involved in The Craft?” Randy asked.
“No,” I answered. “Not at all. Surely R.J. told you that Felicity and I are Witches. I was Ariel’s teacher.”
“Yes, he did…” Shari said.
“…But you’re with the cops,” Jennifer finished.
“So?” Ben interposed, “You got some kinda problem with cops?”
“It’s usually the police that have a problem with us,” stated Randy, still wearing a befuddled expression.
