The Trouble With Witches by Shirley Damsgaard Read Free Book Online Page B

about this 'cult.' "
    "I think I told you, there are about ten people living at the compound—"
    "Ha," I scoffed. "Doesn't sound like much of a 'cult' to me. Only ten people? I thought cults were larger than that?"
    Rick gave me a patient look. "I told you I don't know if you could call PSI a cult. They could just be a group of harmless New Agers . It depends—"
    "On what?" I broke in.
    "On how much control Jason Finch has over the rest of the members."
    "In what way?"
    "Well…" Rick paused. "If he limits their access to the outside world, if he controls their behavior through criticism, if he demands their total obedience to his ideology, then I'd call PSI a cult."
    "But you don't know?"
    He shook his head. "No. Like I told you, the townspeople wouldn't talk about the group. Winnie and Juliet avoided me once they learned who I was. And the other members were like shadows. I know there were at least three other couples living at the compound, but they're rarely seen in town."
    "So Jason could be controlling them?"
    "Yes. And a smaller group makes it easier for the leader to
stay
in control."
    "Any dissension is easily rooted out," I said thoughtfully.
    "Exactly—"
    "And from what Joan said, Brandi was unhappy, so she might have been causing a rift in the group."
    "And if Brandi had been creating problems," Abby said quietly, "then she would've been either ostracized or punished. That's what you think happened, isn't it, Rick?"
    His eyes traveled to Abby's face and his voice sounded weary. "I don't know."
    "Hey, Delaney, don't worry about it," I said with more confidence that I felt. "We'll find her, won't we, Abby?"
    Abby touched Rick's hand and smiled. "We'll do our best."
    A flicker of a grin touched his face. "Thanks."
    I picked up my fork and looked at Rick. "Okay, so does everyone live in the same house?"
    "No. Here, let me show you."
    I ate in silence while Rick laid his fork down and, taking a pen and a small notebook from his pocket, began to draw in it. "The main house is here," he said, making a large square in the center of the page. "From there the land slopes sharply down to the lake." He made a squiggly line to show the lakeshore. "A boathouse with sleeping quarters above the boat storage area sits right on the lakeshore." He drew another box. "Two cottages are located along the long lane that leads from the main road to the property." Two more boxes appeared on the page. "The whole place is surrounded on three sides by a very large chain-link fence." He finished by drawing three lines around the boxes.
    "Wow," I said, studying his little map. "That sounds like quite a place."
    "It is. It was built in the 1920s by a timber baron named Victor Butler. And according to the old-timers on the lake, he and his wife, Violet, threw some pretty elaborate parties there at one time, but they stopped after her brother, Fred Albert, came to live with them."
    I raised my eyes to Rick's face. "I wonder why."
    Rick picked up his fork and took a bite of his dinner.
    "Don't know. Seems Fred Albert was a recluse who lived in one of the cottages on the estate. According to a couple of the people I talked to, he wasn't quite 'right.' "
    "What does that mean?" I looked back down at the map.
    "I don't know the answer to that question, either. It could mean he was physically or mentally challenged. Or—"
    "Insane?" I said, finishing his sentence for him.
    He nodded. "I did hear the word 'spooky' used in reference to the brother."
    "The same word Brandi used to describe Jason Finch's foster daughter."
    "Yeah," he said, and paused to take another bite. "One more thing," he said after swallowing. "It seems some believe the brother's still there."
    "What? That's not possible, is it? If the brother was an adult in the twenties and thirties, he'd be a very, very old man by now."
    Rick laid his fork down and pushed his plate away. "People have seen lights, from across the lake, bobbing in the woods around the cottages."
    Abby, who had