"No, you're one of those people who have…excess. More than you need or would ever use." Something she had sensed in him from that first moment at the crime scene, memories or no memories, that palpable force of intensity radiating from him.
"You have to buy a new watch every month or so, because they always stop running, and I'll bet you have problems with ATMs and other computers."
"I do, as a matter of fact. On both counts."
"Some people produce a lot of energy and can't really productively channel the excess. Others burn it off quickly. Even too quickly."
"So we match perfectly. What I don't understand is why you're just now realizing you can tap into my energy. Correct me if I'm wrong, but up until now, I was under the impression that I was one of the major drains on your energy. Or our relationship was, at any rate."
"You're not wrong." She thought about it. "My best guess is that because of my uneasiness about not being in control I wasn't able to try to tap into your energy, consciously or even subconsciously, until I was desperate. Until my reserves had gotten so low it was a matter of sheer survival. You showed me my reflection, and on a very primitive level I realized I had to reach out-or die."
With a half smile, he said, "Have you talked to somebody about these control issues of yours?"
She couldn't help but laugh, albeit briefly. "Yeah. Besides, you're just the same. It's hard taking a leap of faith."
"And putting your fate in someone else's hands. Yes, I know. You were fairly pissed off about it."
Riley had to laugh again. "I'll just bet I was. But it does explain some of this uncharacteristic behavior of mine, huh? I've never been in love before."
"So you said. Scowling at me."
"I didn't."
"Yes, you did. Scowled. Not that I cared. I've never been in love before either, and I was a bit cranky about it in the beginning myself. You asked about how open our relationship was around here; I don't think either of us was able to hide much, and we were…fierce…about each other from the moment we met."
"The moment?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, you were on a date with Jake when we met. He introduced us."
Riley winced. "Ouch."
"Yeah."
"Well, no wonder he's been…difficult."
"I've tried to make allowances," Ash admitted.
She pondered for a moment, but then shook her head. "I can't think about that right now. We'll mend fences or build bridges or do whatever we need to do with Jake later."
With a lawyer's ability to stay on subject when necessary, Ash said, "Okay, so back to your belief that losing energy the way you have is due to someone else's influence."
"Yes. If I'm right about that-and I think I am-then the purpose of all this ritualistic occult activity, including the murder or murders, isn't so much a smoke screen as it is a device."
"To tap into dark energy and use it."
Riley nodded.
"But isn't that always the purpose of black-occult activities?"
"You could get arguments either way. In my experience, most practitioners are more interested in flouting everything even remotely traditional in the way of religion, giving God the finger like gleefully misbehaving children, and convincing themselves it's liberating to be able to act like animals."
"Dressing up in robes and screwing in a coffin?"
"Yeah, basically. Only without the human sacrifice."
"So, usually, nobody dies."
"Virtually always, nobody dies. It's rare that anybody bleeds. The only exceptions I know of have been cases when someone genuinely evil is leading or otherwise controlling a group. As in sadistic killer types. A few have tried the Charlie Manson bit, convincing followers to kill for them, but most like to do the killing themselves. It just amuses them to dress up in robes and pretend they're summoning or channeling Satan and it's all for the noble cause of enlightening the ignorant."
Ash was frowning. "Okay. So if human sacrifice was only a…by-product of the ritual to create energy, and if you don't believe Wesley Tate was killed the way he was as a smoke screen to hide a murderer with a motive, then-"
"Who he was may not be so important as I first believed." It was Riley's turn to frown. "But he's part of the puzzle nevertheless. He fits in somewhere, and not just because he provided his lifeblood for some ritual. Victims are chosen. No matter how insane the killer, their logic makes sense in their reality."
"So the next step is talking to the group at the Pearson house."
"They are the only avowed satanists we know of so far. And even if they missed the preliminaries-which is troubling and not helping me put the pieces together-they were certainly here in time to participate in whatever happened Sunday night." She frowned.
"What?"
"That memory flash I just had. I don't know how trustworthy it was, since I was just getting my strength back, but if it was what really happened to me on Sunday night, then when I got to the clearing I had the weird feeling the whole thing had been staged. Or manipulated somehow. The body was real enough, but everything else, even my sense of an earlier ceremony there, had a feeling of unreality about it."
Ash shook his head slightly, not following.
"You said it yourself. Conspiracy in cases of murder really is rare. Maybe there was no conspiracy. Whatever occult ceremonies may or may not have taken place here might have all concluded without a murder."
"And the murder took place later, committed by a single individual?"
"Why not? The satanists have their fun and harmless ritual, dance and chant around the fire, drink a lot of wine and have a fair amount of sex, then go home to sleep it off. The killer comes back later and does his thing, staging it so that it appears to be part of what took place. Ritual. He uses the place and the murder as a means to help generate more negative energy, both through that act and by scaring the shit out of the populace. And he keeps us distracted. So we waste time looking in the wrong places, asking the wrong questions."
"Like who has a motive to murder Wesley Tate?"
"Maybe."
Slowly, Ash said, "If this killer has the ability to tap into energy, of places or rituals or whatever, and channel it, use it, then something has to be driving him. You don't just wake up one day and decide there are better ways of literally destroying people than using guns or knives."
"No. Even if it's a natural gift, the time and effort required to learn to control it…Channeling raw energy is really not that much fun. You'd have to be strongly motivated."
"Maybe by hate?"
"That," Riley said, "would probably do it."
"So the real question is-who might hate you enough to do all this in order to destroy you."
"Yeah," Riley said. "That is the question."
"My bet," Jake said to Steve, "is that forensics will place at least some members of your group in that clearing. Preliminary tests indicate both semen and vaginal secretions from a number of different…donors…on the ground out there. What, Satan doesn't let you bring a blanket to the party?"
"Sheriff," Steve said calmly, "whatever we may have been doing on Sunday evening, everyone in this house was in this house well before midnight. We had a big pizza delivery around eleven; I'm sure that can be verified by the restaurant and by the guy who carried in six large pizzas."
"So? Wesley Tate died sometime between two and six A.M., which means any or all of you had plenty of time to finish your pizza and return to the clearing."
"I never said we were at the clearing."
"We'll soon find out, won't we? Because Riley's statement that you spoke to Wesley Tate before you arrived here, coupled with your own statements to local citizens that you and your group practice Satanism, are enough for the judge to issue a warrant compelling all of you to submit to DNA testing."