Sam Harlan (Book 3): Damned Cold (14 page)

He drew himself up in his chair and pulled at his sweater. “I don’t know where Dorothy is. I don’t know what happened to her. I’m not responsible for her. I never have been. She made that abundantly clear years ago.”

I waited for Meriwether to calm down, then spoke carefully. “You said
you
broke things off with her.”

Meriwether sagged back into his chair. “I’m not perfect, Mr. Harlan. When I tell a story, I might put a slant on things. Sometimes I … omit certain facts to make myself sound better. Who doesn’t? Who wants to admit they got dumped by their first sweetheart? Yes, Dorothy broke things off with
me
. Are you satisfied? Now go back to Jodie and tell her that I don’t have her sister.”

Meriwether’s voice was tinged with a long-buried hurt. He still clearly cared for Dorothy Hamm. “If
you
don’t have her,” I asked, “where else could she be?”

“I don’t know,” Meriwether said with a growl, slamming his hand against his desk. “I don’t
know
!”

* * *

An electric shock ran up the back of my neck, and a vibration started in my rear molars. It buzzed along my jaw and I reflexively rubbed the skin below my cheeks. Meriwether stared at me, his eyes blazing with anger, and I finally understood why Jodie Rexford was so concerned. “Jesus…”

Meriwether’s face softened, and the buzzing dropped a notch. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harlan. I didn’t mean for things to … get out of control. I can assure you that I would return Dorothy to them if I could, but she’s not here.”

“That’s a little more than a
minor
talent,” I said.

Meriwether bowed his head. “I may have downplayed my abilities, but I am nowhere as powerful as Jodie’s coven. You’ve met them?”

“Uh-huh,” I said. The pressure in the room abated, and I managed to gulp. “I’ve met some of them. How many are there?”

“Thirteen, of course,” Meriwether said. “The number is
always
thirteen. Otherwise, it’s not a proper coven. They sacrifice much of their power if they don’t have a proper coven.”

“I met an old man,” I said, still rubbing at my jaw. “A tall son of a bitch. He’s strong.”

“Randy Korman,” Meriwether said, tilting his head to one side. “Yes. Randy and his wife, Janice. Randy is Jodie’s uncle, you know.”

“I heard. He’s convinced that you’re evil and that you took Dorothy.” Meriwether said nothing, so I continued, “He wanted me to kill you.”

Meriwether bolted from his chair, sending it scraping against the hardwood floor until it smashed into the wall behind him. “He what?”

“Relax,” I said. “I talked them out of it.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harlan. I—I can’t believe this is happening. It’s a nightmare. I don’t know what to do.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “I just want to get my friend back.”

We sat, taking each other’s measure. I sympathized with Meriwether and felt ashamed that I could only think about getting Callie back and making sure she was safe.

Meriwether finally broke the silence. “Randy is an unpleasant man. He may seem like a country bumpkin, but he’s one of the most arrogant men I’ve ever met. Combined with his natural ability, it makes him…”

“Makes him what?”

“Unpredictable. Before Randy’s sister died, she passed control of the coven to Jodie. It easily could have gone the other way.”

My eyes narrowed. “He said he let Jodie lead the coven.”

Meriwether sighed. “It’s none of my business. I’ve steered clear of him over the years.”

“You know something.”

“I know that Randy has always thought highly of his talent. I know that the other practitioners weren’t prepared to blindly follow him. Jodie was a young girl, but she was a much better leader.”

“Do you think Randy might have something to do with Dorothy’s disappearance?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Mr. Harlan. That’s what scares me. He’s so unpredictable…”

He didn’t need to remind me of that. “He captured my friend, Callie. He basically forced Jodie to use her as leverage.”

Meriwether frowned. “It all makes sense now. Save your friend. Randy could hurt your friend. Or worse. Escape while you can.”

“What about you?” I asked. “How will you protect yourself? Randy doesn’t seem like the kind of man who will let things go.”

“I … don’t know,” Meriwether admitted. “But that’s my problem, not yours.”

I stood and offered him my hand. For all that Jodie had said about him, I found Meriwether a likable and caring man. “Thank you for understanding. I hope you figure out how to make Jodie see reason.”

He took my hand in his and shook it firmly. “Good luck, Mr. Harlan.”

The Toyota Prius
was right where I’d left it. I got in, closed the door, then stopped and ran through my options.

I could go back to Jodie and her coven and tell them that Carlton wasn’t a threat, but it didn’t seem likely I would convince them.

They seemed so certain that Meriwether was a bad man and that he was holding Dorothy Hamm…

Telling them that I hadn’t found Dorothy but had killed Carlton was another option.

What if they demand proof?

I sighed. My head hurt, my stomach was rumbling, and I wanted to go back to Iowa. Instead, I did the only thing I could think of.

I started the Prius and headed south on US-105 to Saint Michael Church.

* * *

Jameson asked a bunch of probing questions while I narrated the events of the past six hours. He would stop me occasionally to clarify a point, while Mosley kept nervously brushing his fingertips against his pants, looking horrified.

When I got to the part about Callie being held in the pentagram, Jameson shook his head and muttered, “Fools. The forces they’re playing with…”

“Can you help me?” I asked. “Can we free her from that circle?”

Jameson tilted his head as if thinking, then said, “Perhaps. Continue with your story.”

I dove right back in, finally reaching the part where I’d met Carlton Meriwether and he’d asserted that Randy might be planning a palace coup.

“That just doesn’t sound like the people I know,” Mosley said at last. “I can’t believe any of them would do this.”

I stared at him. “You mean kidnap me? Or threaten Callie? Which part doesn’t sound like them? I mean, you know them, right? You live here, right? You didn’t even know they were witches, for Christ’s sake. How—”

“Sam,” Jameson said sharply. “It’s not Ethan’s fault. It’s easy to hide in plain sight. I’m concerned that there are more in Jodie’s coven. Thirteen, you said?”

“Thirteen is the number Meriwether gave,” I said. “That’s a lot of witches for a hick burg like this, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Jameson agreed. “It
is
.”

“You say you met with Meriwether?” Mosley asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “About that. I don’t think he’s involved in any of this. Jodie is fixated on him—”

“She wants to find her sister,” Jameson said.

“I get that,” I said, “but I don’t know if it’s just that, or if Randy has her wound up. He’s … intense.”

Jameson turned to Mosley. “Ethan? Have you met this man?”

Mosley nodded. “Once. I helped with a spaghetti dinner at the First Christian Church. His wife is such a pleasant woman—”

“Yeah, Janice seems like a peach,” I said, “but her husband
isn’t
. I can’t tell how much of Jodie’s convictions are actually hers or his. He’s the one who took Callie, and he did it without Jodie’s permission, I might add.”

“Randy Korman is clearly a powerful man,” Jameson said. “Did you sense that he’s trying to assume control of the coven?”

I thought back to the encounter at the Korman farm. “He’s powerful. Like, scary powerful.”

“I don’t believe a coven can be ruled by fear and intimidation,” Jameson said. “Everyone must work together.”

“Without the coven’s support,” Jameson said, “the coven falls apart.”

I sat up straight. “That cop, Gary, seemed awfully torn between the two.”

Jameson chewed at his lip. “If Randy wanted control, he needs the coven to agree to it.”

“What if Jodie doesn’t
want
to relinquish control?” Mosley asked.

“Perhaps it would require something happening to Mrs. Rexford,” Jameson said.

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Like making her disappear. Am I the only one thinking that making Dorothy disappear might be the first step in that? She disappears, and Jodie loses some of her power base. And then something happens to her. The coven may suspect, but they don’t know. Maybe Dorothy is just fine and Randy is just holding her.”

There was a long silence, and then Jameson said, “You could be right. Or, perhaps Mr. Korman has done something more … permanent.”

“To his own niece?” I said. “That’s a pretty morbid thought for a priest.”

Jameson’s cheeks turned red. “It had to be said.”

“So, he kills Dorothy, and then … what … kills Jodie? What about Gene?”

Mosley cleared his throat. “Gene Rexford isn’t … he’s not a strong man.”

I cleared my throat. “Those are possibilities, and with all I’ve seen, I wouldn’t put it past
Randy
to do something heinous. But, we’re forgetting about the vampire’s presence.”

“Yes,” Jameson said slowly, “there
is
that.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of a vampire. Jodie is convinced that Meriwether took Dorothy, but what if the vampire took her? What if it fed on her, killed her, and hid the body?”

Jameson’s face went ashen. “What if it gave her the gift? She’s been missing long enough. She might have turned.”

Mosley looked ill. “We could have two of them?”

“We could,” I said. “Maybe not, though. We just
don’t know
what the hell is going on.”

Both men winced and Jameson shook his head. “Sam—”

“Father,” I said, slamming my fist against Father Mosley’s desk hard enough to make the stapler on the corner of his desk jump. “I’m tired and sore and more than a little pissed off. This isn’t what I signed up for. We didn’t come here to get caught up in some metaphysical squabble. Now Callie is hurt and Randy has her trussed up like an animal.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Jameson said slowly. “There might be a way to rescue her.”

“How?” I asked. “Jodie said the entire coven has to work together to release her.”

“All things have rules,” Jameson said. “Magic. Vampires. They
all
have an internal consistency. Just as there are ways to slay a vampire, there are ways to undo magic. No matter how complicated or powerful the spell.”

“What do I have to do?” I asked. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

Jameson frowned and rubbed at his eyes. “It’s not as easy as that. I think … I think I can unravel the spell if I can gain access to the room where Callie is held.”

“You know how to do magic?” Mosley asked. His voice was accusatory but contained other strong emotions.

Fear, maybe, or dread.

“Not magic, exactly,” Jameson said, avoiding eye contact with the younger priest.

“Then how?” I asked. “How can you free her from the circle?”

“It’s complicated,” Jameson said. “I told you that magic can lead the user down a dangerous path. When I was a young man, I studied about magic. In case I encountered it during an exorcism,” he added hastily. “It turned out I was quite magically gifted, but I never practiced magic. Not … exactly.”

My stomach sank and I said quietly, “Why don’t you tell us what you
did
practice—exactly?”

Jameson hesitated before clearing his throat. His jaw worked but no sound came out.

“Patrick?” Mosley said, leaning forward in his chair. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Jameson said, turning away and facing the crucifix that hung over the door to the pulpit. “The problem with magic is that it makes things so … easy. I learned a few simple things, like the manipulation of energy. I could light candles, move small things with my mind. I could peer into others.” He paused, running a hand through his sandy hair. “I was a young man, and I thought I could control it until an exorcism went wrong. It was a woman. Almost thirty years ago. She was possessed by Haagenti.”

“Never heard of him,” I said.

“Haagenti isn’t a
him
,” Jameson said angrily, spinning to face me. “Haagenti is an
it
, a being of great cunning. The woman’s name was Katherine, and I prayed for her night and day, until I commanded the demon to leave. It was then that it spoke to me in its terrible voice…”

“What did it say?” Mosley asked.

“It said it could help me with magic,” Jameson said. “Haagenti knew all about me. It knew I possessed a talent, and it offered to teach me the art.”

I couldn’t imagine Jameson agreeing to any deal with a demon. “You didn’t accept,” I said.

“Of
course
I didn’t,” Jameson growled. “I would never give in to that kind of temptation. I would never betray my faith!”

“Something scared you,” Mosley said, shaking his head. “I can see it plain as day. What happened, Patrick? What else did it say?”

Jameson smiled bitterly. “Demons have no sense of urgency. They are infinitely patient. They reckon time differently. Haagenti said many things, about how I could choose to use just enough magic to help with exorcisms, how I would always be able to pull back from the abyss. That’s when I realized.”

“Realized what?” I asked.

“Demons know what buttons to push,” Jameson said. “They know what to offer. Haagenti knew my weakness, that I would try to justify using magic to help people all the while opening myself to possession.”

Mosley sucked in his breath. “A demon’s greatest feat is to turn a priest’s love away from God.”

“Yes,” Jameson said, so softly I could barely hear him. “They have all the time in the world to eat away at our faith. They promise many things, and sometimes teach many things, but no matter what they say or do, their purpose is to lead us away from God. Haagenti knew that if I continued with magic, sooner or later, I would question God. Perhaps even
curse
God.”

The priest made his way to the couch against the wall and sat down heavily. He looked up at us, and his hazel eyes were still haunted. “I cast Haagenti from Katherine. She cried out and fell to the floor, praising the Lord, and I joined her. After that, I never practiced magic again.”