“The important thing, though—”

“—is that we’re dealing with a supernatural, which means we’re probably dealing with the killer. Damn. I hate the obvious choice.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. Just because he’s a supernatural, doesn’t mean someone else isn’t. Oh, and that symbol on the gate? It’s Santeria. A bastardized form. I found it online at a site selling amulets. They claim they’re Santeria, but look like a mix of voodoo and Santeria, which means you probably don’t have a real practitioner.”

“Just the kind of wannabe that keeps occult shops in business.”

“Yep. So, do I get a new top?”

“Better invest in duct tape. Now, I need to run so—”

“Call me later.”

I gave an evil laugh.

“Let me rephrase that,” he said. “Call me sometime later than now, but before midnight.”

“We’ll see.”

I still had almost two hours to kill before meeting Cody. I called Jesse to let him know I’d sent the files. He was on the other line and said he’d phone back. I wandered into the first shop I came to—the hardware store where Dorothy claimed Cody and Claire had argued. I was browsing, trying to attract the clerk’s attention so I could ask about it, when a voice behind my shoulder said, “I thought PIs were supposed to be unobtrusive.”

I turned to see Megan. The rest of her group was outside, milling about.

“Getting in a catfight with the main suspect’s wife?” she said. “On Main Street?”

“She started it.”

Megan smiled. “I don’t doubt that. Tiffany Radu is one of those women who believes it’s easier to scare away the competition than to tell her husband to respect his wedding vows. You should have seen her when we first moved here—practically hissing every time we came to town.”

“Did you ever see her facing off with Claire?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Is that the direction you’re looking? Interesting. I can’t say I did, but I’ll ask the girls. Or you can ask them yourself. We’re heading to the diner for an early lunch, if you want to join us.”

“So I’m forgiven for yesterday?”

“You were just doing your job. And I was doing mine. Protecting the business.”

I noticed she said the business, not the girls.

“I might take you up on that. And Alastair? Is he—?”

“Away today, I’m afraid. But we can set up an appointment.”

I glanced out the window. “The new girl seems nervous. Still bracing for the orgies, I bet.”

Megan laughed. “Is that all you think about?”

“I like sex. And from what I hear, so do you.” I turned to go. “Or is it power?”

A good parting line, but I didn’t get more than two steps before she said, “Power,” and I spun back to face her.

“You didn’t expect me to admit it?” she said. “Sure, the sex is a nice bonus, but sex is power, at least when you’ve got a houseful of girls and one man.”

“That’s honest.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Megan was clearly playing me, having decided I made a better ally than enemy. That was fine. I thought the same about her.

“So you’re sleeping with Alastair?”

“I’d rather not admit it, because that’s exactly what everyone expects, but I know you already got the scoop from Deirdre, so yes, Alastair doesn’t spend a lot of nights alone. Under the circumstances, he’d have to be a saint or a eunuch if he did. I’m sure Deirdre also told you that I’m insanely jealous of every girl he takes to bed.”

“And you’re not.”

“They like to think I am. They’re like little girls, giggling because they put one over on the teacher. But I’m not Tiffany Radu. I encourage Alastair to take the new girls up on their offers. What matters isn’t that he strays; it’s that he comes back.”

When I looked doubtful, she said, “Think about it. All those girls. All that temptation. He gives in—he’s only human. But he always returns to me. To the girls, that means something.”

“That you’re the queen bee.”

She smiled. “Every hive needs one.”

I DID JOIN them for lunch, though I just got a coffee. But no one was about to say anything in front of Megan. When I asked about Claire and Cody, I noticed a girl with blue-streaked hair shifting in her seat, like she had something to add. She didn’t speak, though. I needed to get her when the boss wasn’t around.

The girls had barely ordered when my cell rang. Jesse. I excused myself to take it, and thanked them for their time, leaving a five to cover my coffee—and win brownie points with Lorraine.

I rubbed my neck as I headed outside to call Jesse back. The headache again. Definitely time for a different helmet ... something I’m sure the hardware store didn’t stock. I made a mental note to grab aspirin later.

Jesse had run a background check on Megan. She was twenty-six, older than I thought. Her story checked out—MBA from Columbia, worked on Wall Street for awhile, then bailed.

“Burnout,” Jesse said. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to run off to a commune, but I guess you can never tell.”

“Oh, you can usually tell. I don’t think Megan burned out. She just realized she could make more working in a startup company where she was in charge. That’s what the commune is to her. A business. Those girls aren’t working for much more than room and board, I’m sure of it. And they’re pulling their own weight there, too—cooking and cleaning.”

“So cynical, so young.”

“You think I’m wrong?”

“No, I’m just kicking myself for not seeing the con first. I’m supposed to be the expert on the workings of the criminal mind. I’ll make up for it now and dig into the financials.”

“Please. Everyone here really likes the sexy angles—the philandering husband and the weird cult leader—but it may come down to money.”

“It usually does. I’ll get on that, then.”

WITH THE GIRLS eating lunch in town and Alastair away, it was the perfect time to take a closer look at the commune. I parked my bike in a wooded area nearby, then headed in the back way. Once I was sure that the drive was empty and the lights all off, I approached the front gate, to get a better look at the symbol. It was there—and had been repainted.

I licked my finger and smudged a line. Yep, blood. Likely chicken blood, if someone was practicing Santeria.

I eyed the house wistfully. As rustic as it appeared, I was sure it had a burglar alarm. Disarming it wouldn’t leave me much time for searching before Megan came back. And I figured I had just as good a chance of finding evidence of rituals out here.

I went through the outbuildings. Met some chickens, a couple of cows, even a pig. No horses, though, which seemed a complete waste of barn space. I did manage to make friends with a barn cat. Or it made friends with me.

I’m not a pet person—even with horses, I’ve never seriously considered owning one—but you have to give cats kudos for attitude. If you stop to pet them, they can’t be bothered with you. Ignore them, and they rise to the challenge. By the time I was done searching the outbuildings, the cat had brought me a gift—a still-twitching rat. I was impressed. I rewarded it with an ear scratch, and it took off, mission accomplished.

That was the only reward I got, though. A half hour of searching, and all I had to show for it was shit on my boots.

There was one other outbuilding behind the barns. It was locked, which seemed promising, until I opened it and found tools and a lawn tractor. I checked out the yard next. Vegetable garden, herb garden, even a couple of beehives behind the toolshed. So very Little House on the Prairie. Why anyone would choose to live like this was beyond me.

I was checking out the hives when I noticed the boarded-up window above them. That made me realize I hadn’t seen a boarded-up window from the inside ... and that the toolshed looked a lot bigger from out here.