Original Sin

“What about her?”

“Rafe told me this morning to trust my instincts. He was deadly serious. My first impression-my gut instinct- about Nicole Donovan was that she was too nice, too helpful- without being at all helpful. She didn’t say one thing that I could follow up on. And there was a woman in her classroom when I got there who rubbed me wrong, but she left. Donovan said she was a friend.”

“Listen to Rafe,” Moira said, though she wondered exactly what Rafe meant by his comment, and what he knew that he hadn’t shared.

“The student, Chris Kidd, came to me yesterday after I spoke to the student body. He implied that his girlfriend, Ari Blair, was on the cliffs when Abby died, and was scared about coming forward. Now he’s dead, and Ari ditched school. All signs point to her being part of this coven. A witness saw her drive off with Jared.”

Moira slammed her fist on the dashboard. Why hadn’t she sat on him? She thought she’d made perfectly clear the risks he faced, and since she had his truck she thought he’d stick it out at home.

“I have an APB out on Ari Blair and her car,” Skye said. “Basically, I issued an order to detain her as a material witness and contact me immediately.”

“Ari Blair,” Moira mumbled. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out the address book taken from a witch’s locker.

“What’s that?”

“I was looking for lockers that belonged to witches, okay? This came from one.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I was hoping for maybe a calendar or something that could give me an idea of where Fiona is staying.”

She opened it and saw on the front page:

Property Of:

Arianne Blair

“This is hers,” Moira told Skye.

“Was there anything helpful in there? I can’t believe I just asked that. It’s an illegal search and seizure.”

“I took it, you didn’t.”

“Fruit of the forbidden tree. I now know you stole it, so I can’t use anything in it to arrest anyone.”

“Screw that; I just want to stop Fiona from killing Rafe. She opened the address book to “Garrett Pennington” and tapped the address. “This is where I’m going to start.”

“What’s that?”

“Good Shepherd Church. Garrett Pennington. He lives in an apartment above the church-she has two addresses here, one for the church and one for Pennington.”

“I found a connection between Pennington and Elizabeth Ellis. It’s not safe for you to go there alone, and I don’t have a warrant.”

“Who cares about a warrant?”

“I do. Because if he killed Abby Weatherby, I can put him in jail.”

“Rafe could die. I need information, and Pennington is the best bet to get it.”

“This is fucked,” Skye said, then changed the subject. “Can a witch make someone sick?”

“Sure, it’s a standard spell. Not too difficult.”

“What about a brain tumor?”

“Harder, but for a skilled magician, not impossible.”

“I don’t generally like coincidences, but Matthew Walker’s mother has a brain tumor, and that was the reason he left Santa Louisa. Then just a few weeks later, Elizabeth Ellis, who is on the church council, hires Garrett Pennington as the pastor. But Walker didn’t know anything about it.”

“Seems obvious to me when you put it like that,” Moira said. “If the coven had something personal of hers- preferably blood, hair, or fingernails, but a personal object can sometimes work-they could curse her. Give her a brain tumor or a heart attack. It doesn’t always work, it’s not a science, and the farther the distance the harder it is.”

“That sounds like voodoo.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re saying voodoo is real.”

“Voodoo is witchcraft, nothing more, nothing less. What’s so surprising?”

“I have a lot to learn.” Skye paused. “Can you help me with something before we go to Good Shepherd?”

“I’ll try.”

“Ari Blair lives near here; I called her mother earlier and have permission to search her room.”

“Good idea-she’s young, probably less disciplined than Pennington. We might get what we need there. If not, you’ll take me to Good Shepherd?”

“No. I’ll drop you off down the street at the Starbucks. You can go wherever you like from there.” Skye glanced at her. “I’m still a cop, Moira. I’ve already broken so many laws that I’ve sworn to uphold that when I can pretend I’m not breaking one, let me pretend.”

It took ten minutes to reach Ari’s house. As soon as Moira stepped on the property, she knew a witch lived here.

“Moira? Hey-Moira!”

Moira barely heard Skye’s voice when she turned into Ari Blair’s bedroom without being told which one was hers.

Magic, powerful magic, permeated every inch of space. The walls, the carpet, the clothing strewn across the desk chair … it was as if the room breathed magic.

The energy was strong, but young; powerful, but untrained. Moira sensed an inner goodness in the room, an aura of wanting to please. The aura of kindness. She wanted to weep for the poor girl who lived here, the betrayal she was about to face.

Ari Blair could have been her.

“Do you need to sit?” Skye asked from what seemed to be a great distance but was only feet away.

Moira shook her head and crossed the neat but cluttered room. She touched a book on the desk. A Wiccan spell book. Another was a Wiccan book of blessings, another about the elements in Wicca. All benign in the sense that they promoted the stated belief of witchcraft: do no harm. Most practitioners were well-intentioned but misguided people who were searching for truth, balance, and understanding.

They didn’t understand the dark underbelly of magic. That noble intentions were simply that: intentions. That do no harm was impossible when you messed around with supernatural forces. Ari had been used, her inner goodness and innocence and desire to learn more about herself and the world around her being twisted in order to pull energy from her.

“How did Ari’s boyfriend die?” Moira asked quietly.

“Possible brain aneurysm. He complained of a severe headache in the afternoon, then a few hours later collapsed and bled from the ears. He died en route to the hospital.”

“I feel fear. Here, in this room. Fear and magic. She’s definitely scared about something.”

Skye was looking at her strangely.

“What’s wrong?” Moira asked.

“You sound like Anthony.”

“Anthony is an empath. I’m not.”

Moira turned her back to Skye to avoid more questions. Together they searched the room. Moira flipped through the spellbooks one by one.

Skye said, “Jared was here.”

“How do you know?” Moira asked.

Skye held up two phones. “This is Jared’s cell phone.” She flipped it open to show a photo of Jared and Lily on the wallpaper. “I’ll bet this is Ari’s. They dumped the phones so no one could GPS them.”

“Dammit! What on earth was that kid thinking?”

“He’s worried about Lily, and he’s an eighteen-year-old boy. He thinks he’s invincible.”

“Idiot,” Moira mumbled. “We need to find them.”