Callie’s mother, Olivia, was the most unusual. According to Rose’s account, Callie and Olivia had arrived from New Orleans on Halloween when Callie was three. Olivia had been drawn to Salem because she knew she was related to one of its accused and had always felt as if she had magical powers herself. Almost out of money, she and Callie had been sleeping on the common until Eva Whitney had taken pity on mother and child, giving Olivia a job waiting tables in her tearoom. When she heard that Olivia was related to Rebecca Nurse, Eva introduced her to Rose and the center. “You three are long-lost family,” Eva told Rose. Rose asked Olivia and Callie to call her Auntie Rose, and a connection in blood and spirit was made. Within a week, Olivia and Callie moved into Rose’s house.
In the short time Rafferty had known Callie, they’d never really talked about her mother. He knew she had visited Olivia’s grave, but beyond that he hadn’t known how much Callie remembered about her mother. Not her behavior, certainly. He’d seen the shock on Callie’s face when their provocative encounters were described by Ann. According to the files, Olivia had been involved with many men in Salem. And possibly some underage boys, or so some of the witness statements had suggested. Rose had evidently argued vehemently to get her to stop this—she’d argued that with them all. That was not just witness hearsay, it was public record. Rafferty thought Rose was probably the only voice of parental reason any of them had.
According to all accounts, the girls, who’d started to call themselves the Goddesses, began to see that they had power over the men in Salem. They believed their powers had been passed down through the generations—from their witch ancestors.
He wished he’d known Rose back when she was in her prime. She’d taken in these young women who had no place else to go. She had obviously helped raise Callie. Though her cause on behalf of Salem’s accused had taken some quirky turns, it seemed a noble one. She had devoted her life to seeing justice done for the victims of the trials, and he gave her credit for her fortitude. As life’s purposes went, it was certainly better than the more selfish drives most people followed, himself included.
There was nothing in the Goddess files about Leah Kormos, the one he and Callie had conjectured was the fifth petal. He needed to know more about Leah. The one who had broken the so-called rules. She had possibly been seen arguing with the Goddesses, accusing them of betraying her. She should have been a suspect. But the trail ended there.
Rafferty searched the local phone directories for the name Kormos, trying several different spellings, since Callie had likely never seen the name written out. He found a few listings and called. No one had heard of Leah.
Then he called Barry Marcus. “I need to talk to Rose.”
“What about?”
“I’m looking for someone. A suspect. Someone who might actually take the focus off of Rose for a change.”
They met at the hospital. Barry was fifteen minutes late, so Rafferty waited in the corridor. When they entered, Rose was sitting in a chair writing in her journal.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” she said, closing the journal and standing to greet them as if they were houseguests.
“Rafferty has some questions for you,” Barry said.
“Okay,” Rose said, slightly more tentative at the thought of interrogation.
Rafferty gestured for Rose to sit back down and took a seat himself on the heater in front of the window. “Did you know a girl named Leah Kormos?”
Rose stared at him for a long time but said nothing.
“Callie told me she was one of the Goddesses.”
“Yes,” Rose said.
“You remember her?”
“Yes,” Rose said.
“Did she live with you?”
“No,” Rose said.
“Not on Daniels Street with the others?”
“No.”
“Wasn’t she one of the Goddesses?” he asked again.
Rose shifted in her seat. The word made her uncomfortable.
“Isn’t that what they called them?”
“I’ve told you already, the goddess was diminished. The goddess turned.” Rose was starting to hyperventilate.
“I think that’s enough,” Barry said.
“Okay,” Rafferty said. “I’m sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just need to find this girl. This Leah.”
Rose turned away.
Barry held the door for Rafferty, when Rose called after him.
“I think she lived in the dorms.”
Rafferty waited for Rose to add more details, but she had gone silent.
He searched the 1989 records of the local colleges and universities, Salem State first, then Endicott, and other local schools. He was about to start searching prep school rosters when he found her registered at Montserrat, an art school. On scholarship and living in a dorm, she was there for the spring semester in early 1989. Her grades were good. She’d evidently registered for the fall semester but never came back after summer vacation. Looking for her home address, Rafferty requested more information, marking the request as official police business. It was against the school’s policy to give out home addresses, they said.
“Get permission, or I’ll get a court order,” he told them.
Rafferty stopped at Mickey Doherty’s pirate shop on his way to Ann’s. Mickey was in full costume and holding court with a group of middle-aged women.
“I need to talk to you,” Rafferty said, too abruptly.
“Never a good sign for a pirate when the chief of police wants to talk to you,” Mickey said with a laugh.
The women scattered.
“This better be good,” Mickey said. “Those were paying customers.”
“I’ll just bet,” Rafferty said.
Now Mickey looked worried.
“Relax. I’m not here to talk about your side business,” Rafferty said. “It’s your new business I’m interested in.”
“You want me to look up your family tree? You’re more likely related to one of the accusers than one of the accused.” Mickey managed a laugh.
Rafferty ignored the comment, handing Mickey a list of names he’d written on a legal pad.
“What’s all this?”
“Names I want you to look up.”
The information Rafferty handed Mickey was spotty at best. But it included the Goddesses’ full names as well as the names of their parents. And, of course, Rose. The only one he didn’t have full information for was Leah Kormos. “I want you to tell me which one of these women was related to Sarah Good.”
“Sarah Good, huh?” Mickey looked over the paper, then up at Rafferty.
“Can you do that?”
“For a price.”
“How about I don’t become one of the accusers and arrest you?”
“Sounds like fair market value.” Mickey nodded.
“Start with that one,” Rafferty said, pointing to Leah Kormos.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Mickey said. “But you’re going to have to get me more information than just a name.”
“I’m working on it,” Rafferty said.
Rafferty walked out of Mickey’s store and across the wharf to Ann’s Shop of Shadows. It was just 7:00 P.M., and Ann was locking up. “I sense this isn’t a social call,” she said when she saw his expression.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about the Goddesses,” he said, ignoring her comment. He didn’t do social calls with Ann. Not since that night a few years back. It had been a mistake, and it had clearly been his fault. When he’d tried to apologize, she’d shrugged it off. “It never happened,” she’d said. They hadn’t talked about it again.
“Didn’t we just do this? I didn’t really know them. Everything I know is hearsay.”
“I want to hear what you say without Callie Cahill around.”
She held the door open, and Rafferty walked inside.