Salem Falls Read online

  In one corner of the Salem Falls High School cafeteria, a makeshift altar had been erected. It overflowed with carnation bouquets and teddy bears and handmade cards that wished Hailey McCourt a speedy recuperation following surgery to remove a brain tumor. "I heard," Whitney said, "that it was the size of a grapefruit."

  Gillian took a sip of her iced tea. "That's ridiculous. It would have been pushing out the side of her head."

  Meg shuddered. "Hailey was horrible and all, but I don't wish that on anyone."

  Amused, Gilly said, "You don't wish that on anyone?"

  "Of course not!"

  "Meg, you're the very reason it happened! Don't you find it just the slightest bit coincidental that we cast a spell on her, and the next day she started falling down?"

  "Jesus, Gill, do you have to tell the whole school?" Meg glanced nervously at the altar, where two students were leaving an oversize spiral lollipop tied with ribbon. "Besides, we didn't do ... that. A person can't grow a tumor overnight."

  Gilly leaned forward. "That's because it came from us."

  Now, Meg was white as a sheet. "But we're not supposed to do any harm. Gill, if we gave her a brain tumor, what's going to happen to us?"

  "Maybe we ought to heal her," Chelsea suggested. "Isn't that what being a witch is all about?"

  Gillian dipped her spoon into her yogurt and licked it delicately. "Being a witch," she said, "is whatever we need it to be."

  Amos Duncan banged a hammer on the pulpit at the front of the Congregational Church. The buzzing in the filled pews stopped instantly, and attention turned to the silver-haired man. "Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for coming on such short notice."

  He surveyed the crowd. Most were people he'd known all his life, people born and raised in Salem Falls like himself. Many worked at his plant. All had been summoned to the town meeting with a hastily photocopied flyer, stuffed into mailboxes by enterprising young boys who had been willing to earn a few dollars.

  In the rear, Charlie Saxton leaned against a wall. To keep the peace, he had said.

  "It has come to my attention," Amos began, "that there is a stranger among us. A stranger who slipped into our midst under false pretenses and who even now is waiting for the best moment to strike."

  "I don't want no rapist living here!" called a voice from the rear of the church, quickly seconded by a buzz of support.

  Amos held up his hands for silence. "Friends, I don't want one living here, either. You all know I have a little girl. Hell, half of you do, too. So which of us is going to have to suffer before action is taken to drive this man out?"

  Tom O'Neill stood up. "We have to listen to Amos. It's not like we don't have proof ... this is a man who served jail time for the assault of a minor."

  Charlie sauntered down the aisle. "So what are you guys gonna do?" he said, all innocence. "Shoot him in front of the O.K. Corral? Challenge him to pistols at dawn? Or maybe you're planning to just burn down his place when he's conveniently in it?" He reached the podium and gave Amos a stern look. "It's my job to remind you that no one's above the law. Not St. Bride, and not any of you."

  "We've got righteousness on our side," someone yelled.

  "We're talking about innocent children!"

  A woman in a business suit popped out of her seat. "My husband and I chose Salem Falls as a place to raise our family. We moved here from Boston precisely because there's no crime. No threats. Because we could leave our door unlocked." She looked around the room. "What kind of message does it send if we're not willing to preserve that ideal?"

  "Beg pardon." All eyes swiveled to the left side of the church, where Jordan McAfee lazed in a pew. "I recently moved here, too, to get away from it all. Got a son about the same age as most of those daughters you're worried about." Finally, he got to his feet and walked to the front of the church. "I support Mr. Duncan's initiative. Why, I can't even count the number of crimes that might have been avoided if the trouble had been nipped in the bud before it even got started."

  Amos smiled tightly. He didn't know McAfee from Adam. Still, if the fellow wanted to cast his support Amos's way, he wasn't fool enough to turn it down.

  Jordan stepped up to the podium, so that he was standing beside Amos. "What do I think we ought to do? Well, lynch him. Metaphorically ... literally ... it doesn't matter which. Do whatever it takes, right?"

  There were murmurs of assent, rolling like a wave before him.

  "One thing, though. If we're going to be honest, now, and we start taking care of business this way, we'd better get used to a few changes. For example, all you people out there with children, how many is that?" Hands crept up like blades of grass. "Well, I'd recommend you go home and start spanking, or doing a time-out, or whatever it is you do for punishment. Not because those kids have done anything wrong, mind you ... but because they just might in the future." Jordan smiled broadly. "For that matter, Charlie, why don't you come up here and start cuffing, oh, every fifth person. Figure sooner or later they're going to get into trouble. And maybe you could just do a computer check of license plates in the town and issue tickets at random, since someone's going to be speeding eventually."

  "Mr. McAfee," Amos said angrily, "I believe you've made your point."

  Jordan turned on him so quickly the bigger man fell back a step. "I haven't even begun, buddy," he said softly. "You can't judge a man by actions he hasn't committed. That's the foundation of the legal system in this country. And no pissant New Hampshire village has the right to decide otherwise."

  Amos's eyes glittered. "I will not stand by and let my town suffer."

  "This isn't your town." Yet he knew, as did everyone else, that that wasn't true. He walked past Duncan and Charlie Saxton and 300-odd angry locals. At the back of the church, he paused. "People change," Jordan said softly. "But only if you give them room to do it."

  Gillian sat cross-legged on her bed in her robe, her hair still damp from a shower, as she fixed her makeshift altar and considered what she had learned that day.

  By this afternoon, the rumor had spread through the school: The dishwasher at the Do-Or-Diner had raped some girl back where he used to live. It was what her father had been talking about with her friends' dads; it was why she'd been told she couldn't leave the house after sundown. Gilly thought of Jack St. Bride, of his gold hair falling over his eyes, and a shiver shot down her spine. As if she would ever be afraid of him.

  It made Gilly laugh to watch the townspeople scurry like field mice before a storm, hoarding bits of safety to last them through this latest crisis. They all thought Jack St. Bride had brought evil, single-handedly, to Salem Falls, but it had been here all along. Maybe Jack was the match, setting fire to the straw, but it was unfair to lay the blame at his feet.

  More than ever, he needed a ... friend.

  Gillian loosened her robe, and lit the wick of the candle before her. "Craft the spell in my name; weave it of this shining flame. None shall come to hurt or maim; hear these words and do the same."

  She was warm now, so warm, and the fire was inside her. Gilly closed her eyes, smoothing her palms up from her own waist, cupping her breasts in her hands and imagining that it was Jack St. Bride touching her, heating her.

  "Gilly?" A quick knock, and then the door opened.

  As Gillian's father walked into her bedroom, she pulled the edges of her robe together, holding it closed at the throat. He sat on the edge of the bed, inches behind her. Gilly forced herself to remain perfectly still, even as his hand touched the crown of her damp hair, like a benediction. "You and those candles. You're going to burn this place down one day." His hand slipped down to her shoulder. "You've heard by now, haven't you?"

  "Yes."

  His voice was thick with emotion. "It would kill me if anything happened to you."

  "I know, Daddy."

  "I'm going to keep you safe."

  Gilly reached up, twining her fingers with his. They stayed that way for a moment, both of them mesmerized by the dancing fl