The Reckoning

by Jana DeLeon

  Sarah was standing at the island in her kitchen, hands covered with flour and singing along with a George Strait song playing on the radio. She looked up as he walked into the room and beamed.

  “It’s about time you made it. I’m getting hungry. And look—I’m making your favorite for dessert—apple pies. I had enough for three so Alex and I will be eating it for a while and you’ll be taking one home.”

  Holt forced a smile. “Thanks,” he said to Sarah, then leaned toward Alex, who was standing beside him in the doorway and asked in a low voice, “What did you give her?”

  “Oh, doctors can’t dispense the sort of drugs that produce those results.”

  “Then what?”

  “Sarah had an appointment with Madam Fredericks this afternoon.”

  Holt held in a groan. The last thing he needed was that crazy woman getting Sarah’s hopes up.

  “I see you’re as happy about the turn of events as I am,” Alex observed.

  “What did she say?”

  “That Erika would be returned to Sarah.”

  Holt narrowed his eyes. “But no reference to Erika being alive?”

  “Funny how you caught that, too. Seems Sarah’s the only one who hasn’t.”

  “Great.” Holt sighed. “So what are we supposed to do now?”

  “We pretend everything’s going to be fine until Sarah goes to bed, then we discuss a plan for tomorrow. Can I assume since your disgruntled uncle called, you got a search warrant?”

  “Oh, yeah, much to the dismay of everyone involved except you and I.”

  Sarah waved a floured hand at the two of them. “What are you guys waiting for? Get started on supper before we starve.”

  “I guess that’s my cue,” Holt said. “What kind of tomatoes did you buy?”

  Sarah laughed. “Any kind you want.” She pointed to the counter behind her.

  “Don’t say a word,” Alex said, when he scanned the counter and looked back at her.

  “Wasn’t going to.”

  * * *

  THREE HOURS LATER, Alex pushed back her almost-empty plate of apple pie, unable to eat another bite. “I’m going to pop,” she said.

  Sarah took a last bite of her apple pie and nodded. “I won’t need to eat again for a week.”

  “I don’t know about a week,” Holt said, “but food’s definitely not going to be a priority for a while.”

  Sarah pushed her chair back. “Well, I’m going to take a shower and head to bed. Tomorrow could be a big day, and I want to be my best when my baby comes home.”

  “Sarah, I think—” Alex started.

  “Thank you, Holt,” Sarah interrupted, “for preparing a great supper.” She gave Alex a knowing look. “I’ll just leave you two to wrap up the rest of the night.”

  As soon as Sarah left the kitchen, Holt laughed. “She could have been a little more subtle,” he said.

  Alex sighed. “Subtlety was never Sarah’s strong point.”

  “Yours, either, if my memory serves correctly.”

  “I’ve gotten worse with age.”

  “Good. That means you should meet my next question with a direct answer.”

  Alex immediately shifted from open to closed. Whatever Holt had in mind, she was certain she wasn’t going to like it.

  “I know you told me to never ask,” Holt started.

  Alex knew immediately what was coming next. “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “The information you have may help us find Erika.”

  “No, it won’t.” Alex felt a wave of nausea pass over her as her mind shifted for a split second to those years ago. “I promise you, what I saw won’t help anyone.”

  Alex’s emotions waged a war inside her head and heart. She knew she could trust Holt with her secrets, but she couldn’t trust him with her heart. Baring her soul to him, especially about that particular item, wasn’t something she’d come to Vodoun prepared to do. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about doing.

  She tried to formulate the words. Tried to find the exact combination that would convince him to leave this alone, but before she could utter the first word, a thud sounded on the roof directly above them.

  She jumped out of her chair a second behind Holt, who had already rushed over to the kitchen window and peered out into the darkness before she could even move from her spot.

  “Can you see anything?”

  “No. It’s pitch-black because of the storm, and the rain is still coming down.”

  “Someone is on the roof. What else would cause such a noise up there? Sarah is careful to keep her trees trimmed away from the roof of the house.”

  Holt pulled his pistol from his waistband. “Do you have your weapon?”

  Alex nodded and hurried to her bedroom to retrieve her gun.

  “Stay here,” Holt directed when she returned to the kitchen, “and do not be afraid to use that if anyone but me walks back in this door.”

  Alex gripped the pistol and watched as Holt unlocked the back door and slipped out onto the porch. A second thud sounded directly above her, and she clenched the pistol tighter.

  “What’s going on? I heard a noise on the roof.” Sarah rushed into the kitchen, her hair still wet from the shower and her eyes wide. “Oh, my God. What are you doing with a gun?”

  “We heard the noise, and Holt has gone outside to investigate. Just stay behind me.”

  At the sound of rustling on the porch, Alex directed her attention back to the door. What was Holt doing out there? What had he found?

  She knew he’d told her to wait, but what if he needed help? He’d had enough time to investigate if it was something innocuous.

  “Stay here,” she told Sarah, and crept up to the back door. She edged the door open a crack and peered outside in the darkness.

  Holt stood at the edge of the porch, staring down at the ground. His pistol was back in his waistband, so Alex assumed no threat existed for the moment. She slipped out the back door and walked up beside him to see what had captured his interest. When she looked at the flower bed that surrounded the porch, she gasped.

  A dead crow lay in the midst of Sarah’s fall flowers.

  When Alex gasped, Holt whirled around. “I told you to stay inside,” he said.

  “I thought you might need help.”

  “I do. I need help explaining what the hell is going on here.” He waved one hand out at the yard, and Alex raised her gaze beyond the flower bed.

  The porch light didn’t reach very far into the backyard, but its reach was beyond the carefully groomed flower beds. Alex could see the dark shadows lying at random on the lawn. All about the same size. The size of a crow.

  “We can’t let Sarah see this,” Alex said.

  “Let me see what?” Sarah’s voice sounded from the doorway.

  Alex whirled around, but Sarah had already stepped out onto the porch, her attention drawn to a black patch off the back of the porch. Before Alex could stop her, she leaned over and let out a cry.

  Alex rushed to her and placed her arm around Sarah’s

  shoulder, pulling her back in the house. Holt followed behind and closed the door behind them.

  Sarah began to wail as soon as they stopped in the kitchen. “It’s an omen. You saw it. Madam Fredericks lied. She said my baby was going to come back to me, but the dead crows can only mean one thing.”

  All of a sudden, Sarah froze and stared at Alex, her eyes wide. “She didn’t say Erika would come back alive,” she whispered.

  All the color washed from Sarah’s face, and Alex moved forward to catch her just as she slumped to the floor. As Alex’s knees buckled, Holt caught Sarah and lifted her up in his arms.

  “Her bedroom,” Alex said, and pointed Holt down the hall. />
  He placed Sarah on her bed and Alex gave her cousin a check. “Her vital signs are fine,” Alex said. “She’ll probably come out of it in a minute.”

  “Maybe it would be better if she didn’t.”

  Alex bit her lower lip. “Even if it was legal, I can’t keep her drugged until we find Erika.”

  Holt sighed. “I know. And I wasn’t suggesting you do that. I just wish she didn’t have to suffer this much.” He ran one hand through his hair. “I can’t imagine what she must be feeling.”

  “I can’t, either,” Alex replied, a bit surprised that Holt had even thought about the depth of Sarah’s feelings, much less voiced his thoughts. His time away from Vodoun had changed him, and in a good way. He was more conscientious. More aware.

  More attractive.

  She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Not wanting to think about how with every thoughtful action, her heart opened back up to Holt just a bit. Not wanting to think about how she was going to feel when this was all over and she was back to her normal life in New Orleans. It was too much on top of everything else she was dealing with.

  As if reading her thoughts, Holt moved next to her and placed his arm around her.

  “We’re going to figure this out. I promise you.”

  Alex nodded and tried not to think about how good his arm felt around her. There was a time when all Alex needed was Holt’s touch to be certain that

  everything was going to be right in her world. She wanted desperately to believe that again.

  * * *

  THE KILLER WATCHED THE house from behind a hedge across the street. He’d seen the fake sheriff enter earlier, and he was still there. The three of them stuck together, just as his boss had warned they would. Which could easily become a problem.

  Apparently, the shots his associate had fired at them had deterred them from returning to the island, unless it was the weather that was keeping them away. He’d know by tomorrow which it was, as the storm was due to break early in the morning.

  The killer had thought all the smokescreen and mirrors with the doll was unnecessary fluff added to a simple kidnapping, but as suspicion had immediately fallen to the witch woman, he had to admit that perhaps his boss had been right. The past might well be enough to permanently divert suspicion, especially in Mystere Parish, where people expected the out-of-the-ordinary.

  He had no idea why his boss had him kidnap the girl, nor what was planned for the child in the future, and that puzzled him. In the time he’d known the boss, the only focus had been on making money. He had no idea where a missing six-year-old fit into building a financial empire.

  And he wasn’t about to ask.

  The boss called the shots and wrote the checks. His job was not to question but to perform.

  He left the hedge and stepped into his car, which he’d parked around the corner. Tomorrow, he’d see whether or not they returned to the island. Then he’d report to his boss and discuss further action needed.

  * * *

  THE PIERCING SOUND of his alarm woke Holt only seconds before his cell phone rang. He glanced at the clock and groaned. Five a.m. A mere three hours after he’d finally crawled into bed after a long night helping Alex get Sarah to a semblance of calm.

  He reached for his cell phone as he rose from the bed. His pulse quickened a bit when he saw the number for the laboratory that was testing the barrette.

  “Chamberlain,” he answered.

  “Mr. Chamberlain,” the lab tech said, “we were able to lift three fingerprints off the barrette you gave us. Two of them got hits in the system.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The first hit was for Sarah Rhonaldo.”

  Holt felt his pulse quicken. The barrette had belonged to Erika. “And the second?”

  “Mathilde Tregre.”

  “Thanks for getting this done so quickly,” Holt said.

  “Anything to help,” the tech said. “We’re all hoping you find that little girl alive.”

  “Me, too.” Holt tossed the cell phone onto the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the closet. Time to grab a quick bite to eat and get to the dock to meet Alex.

  Last night, he’d tried to convince her to stay with Sarah today instead of returning to the island. He’d told her he’d get the deputy to help him, but Vodoun was a small town, and Alex already knew the deputy had just left on vacation and wasn’t returning for a week. She’d thanked him for the offer but assured him she’d feel better looking for answers rather than being cooped up in Sarah’s house. She had a nurse friend from New Orleans coming to sit with her cousin for the day, and she insisted there was no point in arguing.

  And that was that.

  Alex was already pacing the dock when he arrived. The dark circles under her eyes gave away her long night. He handed her a large cup of coffee he’d picked up at the gas station along the way and she gave him a small smile.

  “I didn’t even remember to bring any,” she said.

  “How’s Sarah?”

  “Calm now, but I’m afraid the slightest thing could send her right back to hysterical. My friend arrived an hour ago, so she’ll be fine.”

  “Good, because I need you to concentrate on the job ahead of us. With the sky still overcast from the rain, it’s going to make visibility dim.”

  “Then I guess we best get going.”

  Alex started to step into the boat, but Holt placed his hand on her arm to stop her. “There’s something else.”

  He told her about the lab results on the barrette. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “The witch woman has her. Just like Sarah said. But where?”

  “We don’t know anything for certain,” he cautioned, “except that Erika’s barrette was on the island and Mathilde Tregre had it. We don’t know for sure if Erika was ever there or Mathilde brought the barrette from somewhere else.”

  “We’re going to find out,” she said, her jaw set.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Holt pushed the boat away from the dock and studied Alex as he guided the boat across the bayou. She looked straight ahead, her body rigid. The two times she’d glanced back at him, she wore a determined look. He gripped the steering wheel of the boat tighter, frustrated that he was unable to do more to alleviate her stress. Frustrated that he couldn’t fix this problem for her and Sarah like he had others when they were kids.

  The ride to the island was rougher than the last time they’d gone, the bayou waters choppy from the wind rushing across it. Still, it seemed to Holt that they got to the island quicker. Of course, he knew exactly where they were going this time.

  As they approached the island dock, he cut the boat’s speed and crept slowly toward the bank, scanning the brush for any signs of the shooter. He was there with a warrant, but if someone shot first and asked questions later, he and Alex could be on the losing end. The swamp was quiet, the top of the water barely glistening from the slivers of sun breaking through the clouds.

  He guided the boat to the dock and eased the nose of it onto shore. Frowning, he scanned the area around them one more time before cutting power to the engine. Holt would never admit it to anyone, but the dolls were sort of unnerving. For whatever reason, the sight of them reminded him of death, and he’d seen far too much of that overseas.

  Alex looked back at him as the engine wound down. “I didn’t see anything,” she said.

  “Me, either, but that doesn’t mean someone’s not out there. They could be waiting until we’re on land and easier to pick off, especially since we got away the last time.”

  “There’s a comforting thought.”

  “Sorry, but I need you to be alert and ready for anything. If you’re on edge, you have an advantage.”

  Alex nodded. “So do we head to the c
abin?”

  “Yeah. I have a copy of the warrant. If Mathilde Tregre is there, I can present her with it. If not, I plan on leaving a copy tacked to the door. Maybe if she knows we have the right to be here, she won’t shoot at us.”

  “Assuming it’s her that took the shots in the first place.”

  “Exactly. We’re dealing with a bunch of unknowns here. Are you ready?”

  Alex glanced at the dolls surrounding the dock. “As ready as I’m getting.”

  “I’ll take the lead, but follow closely, and keep your gun ready.”

  Holt stepped past Alex and onto the bank, then reached back to offer her his hand getting out of the boat. As soon as both her feet hit ground, he headed down the trail that they’d taken before to the cabin.

  They moved slower than he would have liked to, but moving faster made it harder to listen for other creatures, especially the careful, bipedal kind. The path showed no sign of recent passage, but any footprints left the night before would have been washed away in the storm. And whoever shot at them might have taken a completely different route to the dock. There was no telling how many paths and trails were carved through the island. The old woman and her ancestors had occupied the island for over a hundred years. Plenty of time to create multiple paths, both for hunting and being hunted.

  As they closed in on the cabin’s clearing, he stopped and peered out of the foliage, looking for any sign of life in the tiny structure. The swamp was eerily quiet, as if every living creature were holding its breath, just waiting for his next move. Finally, he motioned to Alex to stay put and crept out of the brush to the side of the cabin. Once safely pressed against the structure, he waved at Alex to join him, then eased along the side of the cabin and around the corner to the front door.

  The door was still unlocked as he’d left it. He peered around the corner, but the cabin was empty. Broken glass crunched beneath his feet as he stepped inside. He studied the cabin for a minute, then looked over at Alex, who was standing silently beside him.