Chapter 11

With an ironclad stare that would wither the average male, Cinnamon Lambert proclaimed, “Contrary to public opinion, my mother and I are not involved in wild diablerie.” Sheriff Eckle met her eyes with a blank stare.

Todd translated, “Cinnamon and her mom aren’t witches. I’ve been over at her house a bunch of times and I’ve never been bewitched.”

“Sure you haven’t,” Eckle said under his breath. “Miss Lambert, is your mother home? I have some questions for her.”

“No. I don’t know where she could be. But she’s usually home no later than 7.”

“And your father?”

Her lips tightened until there were fine lines around them. She looked as if she were biting back bitter words. “My parents are divorced. And we have no contact with my …father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Must be hard not having a father around.”

“We fend for ourselves. Always have and always will.”

“Well, when your mother gets in tonight tell her to stay put. I’ll be around before 9 to ask a few routine questions. In the meantime, I want you to stick close to home, young lady. Half the town is convinced you’re a witch. So stay put.”

“I will after I check on Mrs. Denton. She’s alone.” Cinnamon surprised the sheriff by offering a slender hand. “Thank you for being so professional without the brutality so many figures of authority use today. I am sure there is a logical explanation lurking underneath all this confusion. Sheriff, my Mother often tells me to listen with my inner ear, even if my eyes disagree. Maybe you should keep that in mind, sir.”

“Your mother is full of antidotes. I’m looking forward to meeting her.” He briefly took cool hand. “Now, get going.”

As the teenagers walked away, he called to Todd “Keep an eye out, Todd.” He watched them until they were out of sight. Then he hurried inside to see how the investigation was shaping up.

“Hey Boss,” Delbert greeted him. “Hot time in the city. We’ve found blood and semen. I took some samples. Both were found in the circle and semen was in the bowl of herbs—rosemary from the smell. No prints anywhere.”

“Not even on the candles?”

Owl-Eyes answered, “No. They’re burnt down to nubs. Interesting because they aren’t black—they’re dark purple. I thought witches burned black candles during their black mass.”

“And the blood?” Instead of answers, the team’s findings were giving him more questions.

“It’s small trace amounts. Could be from the intercourse. We’ll run some tests on it to be sure. I don’t think there’s been a major sacrifice. The pattern it left doesn’t suggest violence. In fact, my opinion is that no major crimes have been committed, other than sex acts, drugs maybe and practical jokes. The whole set-up reeks of teenage antics.”

The Sheriff exhaled. “That’s a relief. I don’t need a murder on my hands.”

From the doorway, Deputy Ward spoke, “Sorry Sheriff but I’m afraid we’ve got one. Mrs. Denton’s dead. Some kids just found her."

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