Rocky was starting to feel like a regular, he knew the staff so well.
Apparently they felt the same, because they were ready to help him. Although, he supposed, maybe that had more to do with him being part of the FBI. Judah Baker walked out from behind the bar to greet them. He called Brenda over, and set them up at a long table in the back, where they could observe both the bar and the floor. There was plenty of room for Brent and the Krewe to join them when they came in after the tour.
Before Brenda left, Rocky asked her, “If you see anyone you know was in here the night Barbara Benton disappeared, can you let me know, please? Same thing for the night Hermione Robicheaux was in.”
“Absolutely,” she promised.
“We’re on this,” Judah said. “I’m escorting half the staff home after work these days. Husbands and boyfriends can’t always make it. I can’t wait for you to get this guy.”
When Brenda came back with their drinks she asked Devin about signed books for her children. Devin promised to bring them by, then smiled at Rocky after Brenda left and said, “I feel like a real local tonight.”
“A local celebrity,” he said, smiling back. “Meanwhile, let’s order—I’m starving.”
They ate and talked about anything but the case. Soon after they finished, Brent and the Krewe joined them.
They talked about the tour and the history of Salem, but mostly they kept their eyes on the patrons. Finally it was almost closing and the crowd began to thin out.
Judah came over to the table and asked Rocky, “Anything else here? Last call coming.”
“We’re good. And I take it you haven’t seen anyone or anything noteworthy?”
Judah shook his head. “No, it’s been a nonlocal night. You guys are the only people who came in here I know—or have even seen before.”
Rocky thanked him and looked around the table. “Well, I guess that’s it,” he said. “Whenever you all are ready...”
He paid the check, and then they hung around on the sidewalk until the last customers had left. Brent thanked him for the drink and headed off down Essex.
“Disappointed?” Devin asked Rocky softly.
He shook his head and smiled at her. “Sometimes, nothing is something,” he told her.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning.
“What something would tonight’s nothing be?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He raised his voice and said, “Okay, guys, we’ll convene at the cottage in the morning. Everyone keep your—”
“Cell phones close by,” the others said in unison.
Rocky flushed slightly. “Sorry.”
They all said their good-nights. The Krewe members set off walking. Rocky and Devin headed for the garage and his car. He took her hand, and then, in the midst of the pedestrian mall with its lights casting an eerie glow over them, he hesitated.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“A nothing that might mean something?”
“Uh-huh.”
Hand in hand, they walked to the car. At the house, Mina was waiting for them. “Anything new?” she asked anxiously.
“Not tonight, Auntie Mina,” Devin said. She went into the kitchen and came out with treats for Poe. “You’re a good old bird,” she said.
“A dear bird, and I’m so pleased you’re caring for him so well,” Auntie Mina said. “Oh, dear. Here it comes. I feel myself fading.”
Devin laughed. “Oh, Auntie Mina! Now I’m picturing the witch from The Wizard of Oz saying. ‘I’m melllllting.’”
“No one likes a smart-aleck, missy,” Auntie Mina said. “And I am fading!”
With that, she disappeared.
Rocky laughed. “I do believe that Mina is doing her best to throw you into my arms.”
“Possibly,” Devin said, heading quickly to her room. “But I don’t trust her. See you in the morning.”
Rocky grinned. “Okay. See you then.”
“First one up brews the coffee,” she told him, then entered her room and closed the door.
He smiled. He was really going to miss her tonight.
But he was glad just to be near her.
He didn’t go to bed right away. He sat in the living room.
Listening.
Waiting.
Hours went by and nothing happened.
He picked up the book that Devin had been reading earlier, Meet Me by the Hanging Tree.
Percy Ainsworth had been one heck of a scholar, he thought as he read. The old guy made frequent references—complete with footnotes—to medieval devil worship.
Not paganism or anything that resembled modern Wicca.
Devil worship.