Saying nothing, Eve slid her water across the table. Gratefully, Alice picked it up, drained it. "A few months ago, I discovered Selina and Alban were performing private rituals. I'd come down from college a day early. I went to their house, and I heard the ceremonial chant. I opened the door of the ritual room. They were there, together, performing a sacrifice." Her hands shook. "Not a goat this time, but a child. A young boy."
Eve's hand closed tight over Alice's wrist. "You saw them murder a child?''
"Murder is too tame a word for what they did." The tears dried up in horror. "Don't ask me to tell you. Don't ask me that."
She would have to, Eve knew, but it could wait. "Tell me what you can."
"I saw… Selina, the ritual knife. The blood, the screams. I swear you could see the screams like black smears on the air. It was too late to stop it."
She looked at Eve again, those swimming eyes begging to be believed in this one thing. "I was too late to do anything for the boy, even if I'd had the power or the courage to try."
"You were alone, shocked," Eve said carefully. "The woman was armed, the boy was dead. You couldn't have helped him."
For one long moment, Alice stared at her, then covered her face with her hands. "I try to believe that. Try so hard. Living with it is destroying me. I ran away. I just ran."
"You can't change it." Eve kept her hand on Alice's wrist, but her grip gentled. She had once seen a child mutilated, had been too late. Seconds too late. She hadn't run, she had killed. But the child was just as dead, either way. "You can't go back and change it. You have to live with what is."
"I know. Isis tells me that." Alice took a shuddering breath, lowered her hands. "They were engrossed in their work and never saw me. Or I pray they never saw me. I didn't go to my grandfather or the police. I was terrified, sick. I don't know how much time went by, but I went to Isis, the high priestess who had initiated me into Wicca. She took me in; even after all I'd done, she took me in."
"You didn't tell Frank what you'd seen?"
Alice winced at the bite in Eve's voice. "Not then. I spent time in reflection and purification. Isis performed several cleansing rites and auric healings. Isis and I felt it best that I stay in seclusion for a while, concentrate on finding the light, and atonement."
Eve's eyes were hot and hard as she leaned closer. "Alice, you saw a child murdered and told no one but your neighborhood witch?"
"I know how it sounds." Her lip quivered before she caught it between her teeth and steadied it. "The child's physical being was beyond help. I could do nothing for him but pray for the safe passage of his soul to the next plane. I was afraid to tell Grandpa. Afraid of what he might do and what Selina would do to him. When I did go to him last month, I told him everything. Now he's dead, and I know she's responsible."
"How do you know?"
"I saw her."
"Wait." Eyes narrowed, Eve held up a hand. "You saw her kill him?"
"No, I saw her outside my window. I looked out the night he died, and she was standing below, looking up. Looking up at me. The call came from my mother to tell me Grandpa was dead. And Selina smiled. She smiled and she beckoned to me." Alice buried her face in her hands again. "She sent her forces against him. Used her power to stop his heart. Because of me. Now the raven comes every night to my window and watches me with her eyes."
Christ, Eve thought, where were they going with this? "A bird?"
Alice laid her trembling hands on the table. "She's a shape-shifter. She takes what form she wills. I've protected myself as best I can, but my faith may not be strong enough. They're pulling at me, calling to me."
"Alice." While sympathy remained, Eve found her patience waning. "Selina Cross might have had a part in your grandfather's death. If we find that he didn't die of natural causes, it wasn't some spell; it was calculated, simple murder. If so, there'll be evidence, and a trial, and she'll be dealt with."
"You can't find smoke." Alice shook her head. "You won't find evidence in a curse."
Enough was enough. "At this point, you're a witness to a crime. Potentially the only witness, and if you're afraid, I can arrange a safe house for you." Her voice was flat and brisk, all cop. "I need you to give me a description of the child so that I can check missing persons. With your formal statement, I can get a warrant to search the room where you allegedly witnessed the murder. I need you to give me details, straight details. Times, places, names. I can help you."
"You don't understand," Alice said, shaking her head slowly. "You don't believe me."
"I believe you're an intelligent and curious woman who got in over her head with some very nasty people. And I believe you're confused and upset. I have someone you can talk to who can help you sort things out."
"Someone?" Alice's eyes went cold and her voice hard. "A psychiatrist? You think I'm imagining things, making them up." Her body trembled as she surged to her feet. "It's not my mind that's in danger, it's my life. My life, Lieutenant Dallas, and my soul. If you find yourself in battle with Selina, you'll believe. And may the goddess help you."
She whirled and ran out, leaving Eve cursing.
"That seemed remarkably unsuccessful," Roarke commented as he came up behind her.
"The girl's whacked out, but she's terrified." Eve heaved a long breath and rose. "Let's get the hell out of here." She signaled Peabody, then headed for the door.
Outside, a thin fog crept along the ground, stealthily, like twining gray snakes. Rain, thin and chilly, was just beginning to slick the street.
"There she is," Eve murmured when she caught sight of Alice rushing around the corner. "Headed south. Peabody, tail her, make sure she gets home safe."
"Got her." Peabody headed off at a half trot.
"That kid's a mess, Roarke. They've fucked with her in every way possible." Disgusted, she dug her hands into her pockets. "I probably could've handled it better, but I don't see how it would help to encourage her delusions. Spells and curses and shape shifters. Jesus."
"Darling Eve." He kissed her brow. "My own practical cop."
"The way she tells it, she was practically the bride of Satan." Grumbling, Eve started for the car, turned on her heel, and paced back. "I'll tell you how it went, Roarke. She wanted to play, wanted to dabble in the occult, and she ran into real bad news. She's a naive, pretty girl, and it doesn't take a crystal ball to see it. So she went to one of their meetings, or whatever the hell you call them, and they drugged her. Then they gang-raped her. Bastards. She's drugged and in shock and vulnerable to suggestions, and it's easy for a couple of professional cons to convince her she's part of their cult. Pull a couple of magic tricks out of their hat and fascinate her. Use sex to keep her in line."
"She got to you," Roarke murmured and touched her hair, brushing away the wet.
"Maybe she did. Damn it, did you look at her? She's well-named. Looks like that kid in the fairy story. Probably believes in talking rabbits, too." Then she sighed, struggled to put her emotions back into place. "But we're not in a fairy story here. She claims she walked in on a ritual murder. A little boy, she said. I've got to get her in to Mira. A shrink will be able to sort out the fact from fiction. But I believe that murder was fact, and if they killed one child, they've killed more. People like them prey on the helpless."
"I know." He reached out to rub the tension in her shoulders. "Close to home?"
"No. It's not like what happened to me. Or you." But there were enough echoes to unnerve her. "We're still here, aren't we?" She laid a hand on his but frowned into the shadows. "Why didn't Frank make a log of what she'd told him? Why the hell did he go solo on this?"