As Abbie entered the interrogation room, she saw the profile of a petite female figure slumped in a chair, her hands shackled on the table in front of her. The first thing Abbie noticed about her was her leg shaking so violently that it was hard to tell if it was deliberate or unconscious.
The girl was no more than nineteen or twenty, though the hooded top she wore made it difficult to know for sure. She was dressed in a pleated skirt with knee-high socks, black figureless gloves and combat boots. Her face was daubed with heavy foundation, eyeliner and lipstick several shades too dark. In short, she looked like a reject from Comic-Con.
It didn't help that she wore her bleached hair in messy pigtails or wore a petulant expression that she should have grown out of years before.
'My name is Lieutenant Abbie Mills.' Abbie sat down at the table and glanced at the arrest forms in front of her. 'You're Sally Chang, am I right?'
The girl nodded wordlessly. Abbie took the opportunity to examine Sally's face. Despite her surname, there was only the smallest hint of her Asian heritage, but it seemed that the makeup was an attempt to hide her ethnicity – as well as everything else.
'Can you tell me what happened tonight?' Abbie's voice was gentle, reassuring. She was aware of how terrified the girl must be, and felt that she needed her help rather than her judgement.
'I don't know,' Sally replied in a small voice. 'I swear to God, I don't know.'
'According to one of the arresting officers, you said "I didn't mean to do it. I was angry, but I didn't mean it".' Abbie paused, confronting the girl with her own words and allowing them to sink in. 'Whatever happened in your apartment, I can only help you if you tell me the truth.'
Sally stared at her hands for a long time. Abbie saw her peeling crimson polish from her chewed finger nails. This girl was a nervous wreck, and whatever had occurred earlier that night was obviously the tip of the iceberg.
Finally, the words came out, slow and quiet and scared. 'You're going to think I'm crazy.'
She let out a laugh like a little sob, but Abbie's gaze was sympathetic and unflinching.
'I don't know what's happening to me. A couple of months ago I started feeling out of control and emotional. I thought it was my period or I was getting depressed again.' She paused. 'I had problems growing up,' she said by way of explanation and then continued, 'But then stuff started happening – things would move without me touching them, lights started switching off and on randomly, and then tonight…'
Abbie stayed silent, watching the girl struggle for words. She was beginning to see connections with the strange events that had been happening in Sleepy Hollow of late. Joe's arrival and now the arrest of this girl seemed to be a culmination of something, or perhaps a frightening portent of things to come.
'We got into a fight.' Sally's voice was shaky, like she was about to break into tears. 'I can't even remember, maybe it was about food or something. She had a kettle in her hand, and all I kept focusing on was the kettle, even when she was talking. I was focusing so hard on the goddamn kettle I couldn't even hear what she was saying anymore. I was just so… angry. And then she plugged it into the outlet, and just…'
Abbie carefully angled the file towards herself and examined the crime scene photos. The dead girl's body was frozen in a pose that she recognised from other electrocution cases. It was a disturbing sight, but not nearly as disturbing as the implications of what Sally Chang was saying. The girl was clearly telekinetic, it seemed that she had accidentally killed her roommate, and if she was set free there was a good chance that she would kill again.
Abbie entered the Archives at speed, responding to Crane's urgent message. She had been at the station for most of the night, finishing up the interrogation and giving strict but subtle instructions to the guards to treat Sally Chang very gingerly.
Crane sat in his usual position at the table poring over the newspapers clippings and police reports files that she had been perusing the night before. She glanced quickly around the room.
'Hey, where's Joe – he still in the Masons' cell?'
Crane shook his head. 'He left early. He had to return to Virginia to arrange a leave of absence from Quantico. Did you learn anything from the suspect?'
Abbie rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. 'Plenty, but nothing that makes much sense. Your message sounded important – have you found something?'
'I was skimming over your research into the strange occurrences in town. Looking for something which connects and could explain why they are happening now.'
'And you've found it, I assume?' Abbie was surprised at the sarcastic note in her voice. She was tired – she told herself – that was surely the reason. She could not help feeling a little irritated that Crane – going through her work mind you – had found a connection that she had missed. She was aware that there was another element at work, the feelings for Crane that had recently surfaced and that she would do anything to hide.
The look of confusion on Crane's face showed that her tone had not gone unnoticed. 'I may have,' he replied meekly. 'The event which can safely be inferred to be the first in the series occurred on the 27th of October.' He glanced at her, clearly expecting her to understand the importance of the date.
'I'm sorry, Crane. What…?'
'That was the night Henry Parrish caused the town bell to ring, using a spell intended to summon witches.'
He said it so matter-of-factly that Abbie immediately felt like a heel. Of course he made the connection – he was Ichabod Crane, the polymath Revolutionary professor with a photographic memory. He was her partner, the one supposed to take up the slack when she was too exhausted or overwhelmed to function.
To hear him say his dead son's name aloud for the first time since his death was like a punch in the gut. All of those feelings – the betrayal of Katrina and her subsequent death, not to mention Henry's death at her own hands – they were still too close to home. This was the first time either one of them had made an allusion to those painful memories. It was like a spell had suddenly been broken, allowing them to deal with the unspoken anguish and fear of the past few months.
'Oh, Crane…' Abbie placed a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. They shared a glance that was long and full of meaning, absent their usual wordy discussions, but it conveyed enough.
She sat down at her side of the table and stretched hugely. 'Son of a bitch. It was right there and I didn't see it. Henry awoke something when he rang that bell – something big.'
'Lieutenant,' Crane leaned forward with intent. 'If the spell was powerful enough to break the shaman's incantation on Joe Corbin, then Henry's intent was to summon more than just a coven of witches. It was as if he called forth the agents of hell – an army of evil to rekindle Moloch's plans for the Apocalypse.'
Abbie was thoughtful. 'I think he may have brought back at least one witch. The girl I questioned last night – Sally Chang – she accidentally killed her best friend by electrocution. From what I could discern, her powers have been coming on gradually for the past couple of months. Maybe she always had them, lying dormant, but now we have a powerful witch on our hands.'
The fear on Crane's face was evident. 'If she is a witch, then without guidance she may well fall to darkness. It is our duty as Witnesses to try and guide her. Perhaps we can find a way to use her powers for good.'
'Crane.' Abbie's voice was a warning. 'We've been burned by witches in the past. That kind of unrestricted power is too much for one person – they've shown that they can turn on a dime.' She was careful not to mention Katrina by name, but the implication was clear.
'I have learned from my mistakes, Lieutenant.' Crane avoided her eyes this time, his face ashen. 'I was deluded by my faith in Katrina. Her love for Henry was her downfall, just as my love for her was mine. I hope I know better now.'
There was a moment of quiet as each of them contemplated what they were about to face. The war against Moloch had given each of them a sense of purpose, knowing exactly who their enemy was. Now their opponents were everywhere, fighting a shadowy war whose strategy was as mysterious as its endgame.
'Whatever happens, we have each other,' Abbie said with determination. She felt a sudden belief that they would come out of this victorious. Perhaps it was born of walking through Purgatory, or travelling back through time, or facing a demon and coming out swinging on the other side. Perhaps it came from the logic that they had survived so far, and there was no reason to believe that they would not continue to do so. One thing she knew for sure was that, despite his mistakes – his unwavering belief in Katrina's honesty, his fatal need to reclaim a life and family lost to him – she never would have made it this far alone.
'Moloch and his little bitches have tried and failed to tear us apart. We are Witnesses chosen by God, and if any of them want to come here and mess with us, they better bring all the armies of hell with them, because I'm ready.'
Crane gazed at her with a look of boundless admiration and fondness. 'We're ready,' he corrected.
