Chapter 7
A professor who believed that the devil lurked in the deep woods.
Skye sat back, frowning as she looked at the wide-eyed girls, who were staring from her to Zach, desperate for help.
There were, of course, many ways to think about the devil.
Perhaps the devils that had existed in Puritan New England had simply been the devils that lurked in the human psyche, something within humanity that allowed man to create very bad images of another human being because of anger, resentment, jealousy, or a need for revenge.
Many in the past must have felt such things—they were only human. And people were easily made into victims of a culture. And if the culture said the devil was alive and making use of human beings in the deep, dark forests, well …
But a professor at a respected university talking about the devil being present at the time of the trials? That was unique.
“We’ll definitely speak with this professor,” she told them. “But I’m sorry, does he tell you what others thought—or what he thinks himself?”
“He’s dramatic!” Whitney offered. “Very dramatic!”
“He likes to act out the things he’s telling us about,” Holly said, smiling. “In a way, he’s a wonderful teacher, fun and informative!”
“But scary, too!” Judy said gravely.
“We’ll meet with him. Believe me, we promise we’ll investigate any information and any man or woman you suggest might be involved in any way.
And you never know,” Zach continued, “your professor might lead us to someone else. The main thing is this—we believe with our whole hearts that your friend is innocent, a victim like Jeremy, but a young woman who is still caring with everything in her heart and soul for that boy.”
“Oh, thank you!” Holly whispered.
“Thank you, thank you!” Whitney echoed.
Zach nodded and Judy said, “I’m sorry if we’re acting … badly. It’s just that the detectives were horrible!”
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to be—” Skye began.
“Oh, what’s his name? Detective Cason. He was all right.
I mean, we could see his face; and we knew he was suspicious of Patricia, but he didn’t come right out and call her a monster.
But that woman detective, that Berkley, she was horrible.
She wanted us to admit that Patricia was broke, that she’d surely taken Jeremy so that she could demand a ransom. ”
“There’s been no communication regarding a ransom,” Skye said softly.
“Of course not! Because …” Whitney broke off, shaking her head. “I don’t get it! I don’t get what’s going on at all!”
“At this moment, neither do we,” Zach admitted. “But …”
He glanced at Skye. They both knew not to make promises that they could solve a case.
But he seemed to feel the same way that she did on the subject.
“I promise you that we will not give up until we do find out what is going on. We won’t give up on Patricia, I swear,” he said.
Skye lowered her head, smiling.
Well, thanks to Jackson and their new special status, she knew they could make promises in the way that they were doing.
“There’s one thing I’d like to ask you for,” Zach told the three of them. “And that’s something that belongs to Patricia. A hairbrush—”
“Oh, no! You think she’s dead and you want to compare DNA!” Holly exclaimed, horrified.
“No, no, not at all. We very much think that she’s alive and well,” Zach said. “It’s just to help us when we’re able to find a trail they might have taken, something that Patricia might have touched.”
“We found one of Jeremy’s little toys in the woods behind the Bolton house—we know they went that way; and rangers and police are searching through the forest now.
Having something that belongs to someone in captivity can help in finding out whatever the kidnappers might be planning and what direction they took to where they’re holding people now,” Skye added quickly, smiling to appear reassuring.
“And in this case, knowing a direction can lead us to wherever the kidnapped victims are being held.”
“Um, sure, of course!” Holly said. She looked at the other two girls.
Judy hopped up. “She keeps one of her hairbrushes in the bathroom. I’ll get it for you!” She quickly returned with the brush; Zach thanked her.
He stood and Skye stood as well. The girls had given them a direction; and whether a respected professor might be involved or not, he could tell them more about the area.
And people in the area.
Maybe there was a student who was taking it all too seriously!
And then again, maybe the professor was involved himself. Stranger things had happened. There were, she knew, two people involved. And the children were alive, as were Patricia and Jane Howell.
So, how could these people be holding the prisoners while going about their day-to-day work or existence? Unless, perhaps, they had a way of containing their prisoners.
Or even a third conspirator, whose job it was to hold the prisoners.
“We’ll be in touch,” Zach promised the girls. “And we will talk to the professor.”
“He wouldn’t just admit he was a kidnapper, right?” Holly asked.
“It’s most unlikely that anyone would do so. We have our ways of talking,” Zach said to her. “And again, of course, if he isn’t guilty of anything other than being a dramatic professor obsessed by the history of the region, he may lead us onward. Anyway, we thank you all!”
“No, no,” Holly said. “We thank you.”
With smiles, Skye and Zach made their exit.
In the car, Skye turned to Zach. “Well?”
“Honestly? I have a bad time thinking that a professor who has kept his job can be in on this, but the whole thing is so absurd, who knows? We do need to talk to him. And hopefully, he’ll be somewhere—”
“Wait! You have the brush.”
“I’m driving!”
“I can drive.”
“Of course, you can, I know. But I’d like a minute to sit with it. Concentrate. My talent doesn’t always just jump forward the way yours does. And I know about the darkness through Jeremy’s little toy, but I may get a view on things through Patricia’s older mind.”
“Okay. Then I’ll call Lieutenant Bruns; he seems ready to help at any turn.
He can set up a meeting for us with the professor,” Skye said, looking at her phone.
“Ah! A message from Detective Cason. One of the rangers found a little green army man in the forest, too. Halfway between the shack and a rough road that’s near the coast.” She frowned and looked at him worriedly.
“Do you think that they might have spirited away these women and children in a boat?”
He shook his head. “Absurd. That’s the true situation. But because it’s so absurd, I think it all has to do with this area. And that’s just thinking. I could be entirely wrong.”
She smiled and called Gavin Bruns. The detective immediately put a call through for them and was back on the line with Skye in just a few minutes. She put him on speaker so that Zach could hear what he was telling them.
“Well, I’m thinking that this will work out for you well.
I hope so at any rate. Professor Isaac Stanley is heading out to dinner.
He’s happy to help you in any way, but hopes that you’ll join him at the Village Tavern.
It’s a great restaurant, so you can have something good to eat while you’re getting to know and question the man. ”
“Sounds great, thank you, Lieutenant Bruns,” Zach told him. “Thank you so much.”
“If anyone is going to solve this thing, it’s you,” Bruns told him.
“Hey, like Hillary Clinton’s book said, ‘It takes a village,’” Zach said.
“Keep me up on anything,” Bruns told them.
Skye could almost see the man hesitate, before he told them, “Cason and Berkley have been assigned the fieldwork; I’m actually the detective in charge of a few cases going on.
But frankly, I’d rather be on the ground with this one and working with you two. ”
“Sir, you’ve been great. The connections you make for us are extremely helpful,” Zach assured him.
“Well, thanks. The restaurant is right on Essex Street. And it’s one of my favorites,” Bruns told them.
Zach smiled, glancing at Skye as he drove. “I’ve been there, sir, and I’ve got to agree.”
They ended the call with the two of them promising to let Bruns know whatever they discovered.
Skye was thoughtful as she hung up.
“You don’t want to go to the restaurant?” he asked. “Well, I guess late lunch and early dinner beat the days when we don’t eat at all.”
“Hasn’t really happened yet,” she reminded him.
“Not in your career?” he asked, grinning as he looked ahead. “Ah, but then you don’t seem to feel the need to fuel up all that often.”
Skye shrugged. “Often enough. You’re bright enough to stop when we can, but I’ve seen you involved in what we’re doing—and not thinking about food at all.”
“Well, I’m sorry I made you eat fast food. This place is good!”
“I know.”
“Of course. You’ve been in Salem often enough before.”
She nodded, looking downward and smiling. He was proving to be okay, after all. He had a great look for an agent; his height, shoulders, and even the character of his facial structure allowed for his appearance to instill confidence in those needing help—and wariness for those causing the need.
In truth, of course …
He just had a great masculine and arresting look.
He was a striking man, but she was discovering much more: his sense of humor, and a great sense of justice.
He was also capable of offering tremendous empathy.
In fact, she might be discovering that she liked him a bit too much, which annoyed her to no end—they had just met!
“Okay, going to park about a block off Essex Street,” he narrated, sliding into a spot. “Down-to-earth, reasonable—”
“And they have great appetizers and salads, among other things,” Skye told him. “Yeah. We should eat now while we’ve got the chance.”
“You know, there are people—even law enforcement—who call it quits after so many hours and go home, have dinner, and go to sleep.”