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Once out of sight of the chicken coop, I ended the spell, walked to the screen door, and rapped. A dark-haired girl, no more than eighteen, glanced up, startled. I waved my PI license. She opened the door.
I introduced myself and added that Megan said I could speak to the girls, which was technically true. That put her at ease. She gave me her name--Deirdre--and a cookie-chocolate-chunk, still warm from the oven. After one bite I declared it delicious and offered to buy a box. She got one off a shelf and set it on the counter.
As the cookies cooled, we stepped outside and chatted, long enough for me to realize this was the girl I wanted to talk to, someone who liked a bit of gossip and wasn't quite smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut.
"I was hoping to talk to Alastair," I said. "But Megan says he's in a session. She really didn't seem to want me talking to him." I nibbled the cookie. "Seems suspicious ..."
Deirdre laughed. "No. She just doesn't want you talking to Alastair."
"So Megan and Alastair a
re ... a couple."
"Sometimes. When there's not a new girl sharing his bed."
"Is that a requirement? For new girls?"
"Oh, no. Some girls do, some don't. It's up to them. He's a nice guy. Not bad looking ... for his age."
"And there aren't many guys up here to choose from."
She grinned. "Exactly."
Compulsory orgies are all well and fine, but it'd be a lot easier to sleep at night if you told yourself the girls were coming to you of their own free will. Easier on the ego, too.
"And Megan fills the void between girls," I said. "So how did she feel about Claire coming along, shoving her aside?"
"I can't say for sure that Claire was sleeping with him, but Megan figured it was only a matter of time." She leaned over. "Let's just say we're all really happy that the new girl isn't exactly gorgeous. When Megan's not getting any, we all pay the price."
"And Claire was one of those times."
"Oh, yeah. Alastair liked Claire. She wasn't as pretty as Megan, but she was just as smart, without the bitch-itude. Claire and Alastair had private sessions all the time. It was supposedly therapy but ..." She waggled her brows. "It was a lot of sessions and--"
"Deirdre?" Megan called from the kitchen. "Where are you? These cookies are still baking on this hot sheet. I've told you to take them off--"
I backed up, but not fast enough to get around the corner. Megan glared at me as Deirdre slipped inside. I caught the screen door and followed her in.
"Sorry," I said, lifting my half-eaten cookie. "I smelled them and couldn't resist. I was just buying a box." I waved at the one on the counter.
Megan handed me the box and pointed at the door. I pulled a twenty from my pocket. She shook her head and kept pointing.
"Now, let's grab a couple of cookies while they're warm ..." a man's voice said.
Megan moved in for the block, swinging the kitchen door partially closed. I caught only a glimpse of a man with silvery hair and an angular, patrician face. I got a better look at the girl walking beside him. She was, as Deirdre put it, not gorgeous. Her broad face and pug nose would have been framed better by a short, bouncy haircut. Long, straight dirty-blond hair didn't help. Neither did her frown as she looked at me, squinting slightly, like she'd left her glasses at home.
"I'm--" I began.
"We'll bring cookies for you and Amy into the dining room, Alastair," Megan said. "Deirdre has spilled some sugar and I don't want it tracked all over the house."
If Alastair noticed me, he gave no sign, just saying "all right," and leading the girl--Amy--away.
Megan turned to me and wordlessly pointed at the door. I left. She trailed until I was outside the gate, then stood on the lawn, watching.
As I was passing the gate, something caught my eye. A smear of dark blood on the wooden post.
I bent to fuss with my pant leg in order to get a better look. Someone had drawn what looked like a talisman. In blood. Sure it might have been red paint, but my money was on blood. When I glanced back, Megan was still watching. I waved. As she turned away, I surreptitiously snapped a picture of the red mark with my phone. Then I got on my bike and rode back to town.
NEXT STOP: THAT building where the trucker said his buddy had seen a satanic ritual. I doubted there'd be anything left after eight months, but it was worth a look.
