by Jana DeLeon
“Maybe not,” Holt said.
Mathilde scrunched her brow and stared at the wall behind him for a couple of seconds, then nodded. “Maybe not anymore.”
Holt sighed. “That’s all the questions I have for you, Ms. Tregre. When the doctor releases you, I’ll be glad to take you back to the island, but I’ll have to ask you not to leave the state until my investigation is complete.”
“Ha.” Mathilde snorted. “Wouldna left the island excepting you made me.”
Alex stared at Mathilde, questions burning in her mind. Questions she knew Holt wouldn’t appreciate and questions that normally would have been the last thing on her mind. But she knew if she didn’t ask, she’d regret it.
“Ms. Tregre,” Alex began, “you said you were going to use the barrette to do a reading. What would that tell you?”
“Whether the owner of the barrette was alive, for one. And if she was on the island, I might get a direction from the smoke. It’s hard to tell as the farther away they are, the harder the reading.”
“Do you think you can still do that?”
“’Course. Assuming I’m back on the island. Ain’t gonna work from this bed. Full moon starts tonight. That’s what I was waiting for. Lot more power with the full moon.”
“There’s something else. Something I’m hoping you can explain.”
“I can try.”
She told Mathilde about the crows that had fallen onto Sarah’s house and yard. Mathilde’s eyes widened and she started shaking her head before Alex finished telling the story.
“Did they fall in other yards or just your cousin’s?” Mathilde asked.
“Just Sarah’s.”
“And she’s the mama of the missing girl?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not good. And the crow was watching the girl before she disappeared, you said?”
Alex nodded. Mathilde stared down at her blanket and picked at a loose thread with her fingers. Alex could tell she knew something but didn’t want to say.
“What does it mean?” Alex asked. “Is it an omen?”
Mathilde took a deep breath and blew it out, then looked up at Alex. “No. It’s a curse.”
* * *
HOLT PLACED HIS HAND on Alex’s arm to steady her as they left Mathilde’s room. Mathilde’s words had shaken her, and despite his refusal to believe there was anything going on here but a very real crime committed by very real people, he had to admit the woman was kinda spooky.
“She’s telling the truth,” Alex said, her voice shaky.
“I agree,” Holt said, “but is her truth our reality?”
“Ah, you’ve just hit on the most difficult part of my job. Yes, it’s possible that someone can absolutely believe what they’re saying even if it’s not true.”
“And do you get that from her?”
Alex frowned. “It’s too hard to say with minimal contact. Mathilde’s a recluse and practices the old ways. Those two aspects already put her outside of normal, and you’d have to exclude any behaviors due to those in order to get to the root of her mind.”
Holt sighed. “So we don’t know any more now than we did before. Not for certain.”
“I’m inclined to lean toward believing her statements as factual unless they’re proven otherwise. And we have the leg.”
“Which isn’t going to do us a bit of good unless the person’s DNA is in the system.”
“There’s still a chance. I had the nurse pack it for us.”
“Good. We can take it to the lab. See what they can find.”
Alex nodded and walked down the hall toward the exit. Holt watched her for a couple of seconds, wondering what had stopped her cold the moment they’d stepped into the old woman’s room. It must be something to do with what she and Sarah had seen on the island when they were kids. The old woman unnerved Alex, and that was something he’d never seen before.
Sooner or later, she was going to have to face whatever she’d tucked away, because it seemed as if it was coming full circle. The same way his past was for him.
* * *
HOLT HANDED THE LAB TECH the container with the leg and explained the situation. The tech’s eyes widened as Holt described the condition of the body part and how they came by it.
“I’ll get right on this,” the tech said. “Just fill out the forms at the front desk and leave me a phone number where I can reach you.”
Holt nodded, and the tech left the front office with the container. The administrative assistant at the front desk handed him the paperwork, a clipboard and a pen, and he moved to some chairs at the back of the room to enter the necessary information.
“How long will it take?” Alex asked.
“Days, probably. They have to take a sample and type the DNA, then run it through the system.”
“So not like on TV?”
“Not even close.”
Holt completed the forms and returned them to the front desk. He pulled a card with his contact information on it out and handed it to the administrative assistant. “Can you please attach that to the paperwork? It has all my contact numbers on there. I’d like to know something as soon as you do.”
“Of course,” the woman said and stapled the card to the top of the paperwork. “I think that’s all we need for now. We’ll be in touch as soon as the lab finishes their work.”
“Thank you,” he said, and they made their way to the front door.
Before they stepped outside, the door to the secure area of the building flew open and the lab tech hurried into the waiting room. He looked excited when he saw them standing there.
“Good, I caught you,” he said.
“You found something so quickly?” Holt asked.
“This is one of those rare instances where we can identify the body part with absolute certainty. The leg had a pin in it with a serial number.”
“And you can track the person by that serial number?” Holt asked.
“Absolutely. A simple phone call and I have your John Doe identified as one Mr. Bobby Rhonaldo.”
Alex sucked in a breath and felt a wave of dizziness pass over her. Holt placed one arm around her shoulders and guided her to a chair. She bent over, drawing in a deep breath, then rose back to a sitting position.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I knew it was possible. I thought I was prepared.”
“Mr. Rhonaldo is her cousin by marriage,” Holt explained to the anxious tech.
“I’m very sorry,” the tech said.
“I hate to have to ask you this,” Holt said, “because I know the leg is in bad condition and the handling hasn’t been all that great on my end, either. But can you check to see if there’s evidence of any other person?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Rhonaldo’s six-year-old daughter is also missing. I’m hoping she wasn’t with Mr. Rhonaldo.”
The tech’s eye widened. “Oh, no. Of course, I’ll do what I can, but it will take a while.”
Holt nodded. “Her DNA is already in the system—Erika Rhonaldo. Whatever you can do, I’d appreciate.”
* * *
THE KILLER WATCHED AS THE cop and the doctor left the lab. He’d followed them as they took the old woman to New Orleans and hidden in a linen closet across from the old lady’s room. He’d heard their entire conversation after they’d interviewed the woman.
If only they’d arrived on the island ten minutes later. The alligator would have finished the job. The old woman had ruined it all by interrupting the beast while he was having a snack. Of course, there was also the small issue of why his associate had chosen that location in the swamp to dispose of the body. Something he’d failed to mention when he reported shooting at the fake sheriff and the woman the first time they visited the island.
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The associate was only supposed to place the barrette on the island so that they could further incriminate the old woman. Apparently, he thought he’d combine two jobs into one, and now his laziness was about to upset the entire mix.
If Bobby Rhonaldo’s DNA was in the system, the lab could identify who the leg belonged to. Then everyone would know for certain that Bobby Rhonaldo hadn’t left the country with his daughter, which was unfortunate. His boss’s idea to stage things to also implicate the old woman had been a good one, but he wondered if it would be enough.
With Bobby’s body found on the island, even more evidence pointed toward the old woman. It was all circumstantial, but even the woman shrink wasn’t convinced the old woman was sane. All the rumor and uncertainty coupled with the past would play right into convicting the old woman in everyone’s mind, if not in court. Still, it would be even better for him and his boss if that leg was not identified.
Was Bobby Rhonaldo’s DNA in the system? That was the question.
He pulled his car into the alley behind the lab. Best he retrieve the leg before the tech ran tests. Cutting off that avenue of investigation would keep suspicion on Bobby.
His boss believed that with the girl gone, Vodoun would finally revert back to the unspoiled place it had once been. The killer didn’t pretend to understand his boss’s motivations, but he was ready to get back to normal. According to his boss, in a couple of weeks, everything would be perfect.
And perfect sounded quite nice.
* * *
HOLT STOOD IN FRONT OF the lab, next to the truck, and looked over at Alex. “I guess we should get back to Vodoun,” he said, feeling somewhat at a loss. They’d covered a lot of ground since that morning but seemed no closer to finding Erika than they were before. All he’d managed was more unanswered questions, except for locating Bobby Rhonaldo, and that was hardly the answer Holt had wanted.
Alex looked as miserable with the situation as he was, but he couldn’t help but admire her strength and focus when most people would have fallen apart. She probably had no idea how attractive that strength and loyalty made her, but Holt hadn’t missed a thing. The girl who’d impressed him so much with her focus and determination had become an admirable woman.
She stared down the street at nothing in particular, frowning. Finally, she said, “I should check on Sarah.”
Holt nodded, and they climbed into the truck. “Let’s get a bite to eat before we head back. It’s been a long morning.”
“I’m really not hungry at all.”
“Neither am I, but we both need to eat.”
Alex sighed, but didn’t argue. He was right and she knew it.
“There’s a deli a couple of blocks over. A cup of soup and a sandwich shouldn’t be too hard to manage.”
Alex nodded, so he started the truck and pulled away from the curb.
They needed to eat. That was the truth, but Holt knew the real reason he’d suggested sitting in a restaurant rather than taking the sandwiches to go was because he was stalling. For what, he had no idea. Maybe because given everything that had happened so far that day, he felt he needed more to go back to Vodoun with. But what, he had no idea.
He’d exhausted his line of questioning with Mathilde Tregre, and neither he nor Alex thought the woman was being untruthful, at least not to her own knowledge. It might take hours for the tech to find anything on the leg or a day or more to determine there was nothing to find. There was no use in waiting around New Orleans for that.
But something kept him from guiding his truck onto the service road and heading south.
They each ordered soup and a sandwich and took a seat at a vacant table in the far corner of the café, away from the other patrons. Alex took one sip of her soup, then dropped the spoon in her bowl.
“We’re cowards,” she said.
Holt stared at her.
“We’re sitting here eating lunch because neither one of us wants to go back to Vodoun and tell Sarah that Bobby’s dead and we still have no idea where Erika is.”
He frowned. That statement was a little too close to the truth for comfort, although he hadn’t admitted it to himself until now.
“I prefer to think of it as we’re taking time to decide on the best way to present this new information,” he said.
“By sitting silently in a deli?”
Holt sighed. “What do you want me to say? I know this looks bad. Really bad.”
He stared out the café window for a couple of seconds then looked back at Alex. “Do you think Sarah’s going to be that upset over Bobby? I mean, they were getting a divorce.”
“Bobby’s affair didn’t make Sarah stop loving him. She just couldn’t trust him any longer, and without trust, she felt there was no marriage. Time is the only thing that will erase her love for him, and it’s only been a couple of months.”
He took a bite of his sandwich and rolled that one around in his mind. He’d known Sarah would be upset about Bobby’s death, but he’d thought of it in relation to Erika. Not once had he considered that Sarah might still love Bobby, but he guessed it made sense. God knows, he’d seen his mother and Lorraine struggle with their cheating spouses—a father-and-son duo who seemed to delight in leaving unhappy women in their wakes.
His mother had cut her cheating spouse loose when his mistress came up pregnant within months of her own pregnancy with Holt, but they’d “reconciled” more times than he could remember, despite the fact that his father had gone on to father two sons with two different women. Lorraine, on the other hand, had chosen to stay married and spend the rest of her life punishing her husband for his many indiscretions. Likely, it had been a full-time job.
“So how do we tell her without sending her completely off the deep end?” Holt asked.
Alex shook her head. “I don’t know that it’s possible at this point. I’m thinking…”
“What? If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.”
“No, it’s wrong.” She stared down at her soup, a guilty expression on her face.
Holt immediately understood. “You don’t want to tell her yet.”
“It crossed my mind. I mean, what’s a day or two, right? Just a bit of time to see if we can find Erika. Finding Erika would make Bobby’s loss more tolerable.”
“So we don’t tell her. You and I are the only people who have to know what the tech found.”
“But it’s dishonest.”
“Not unless she asks and you lie.”
Alex frowned. “That’s a really fine line you’re walking there.”
“Life isn’t always black and white.”
Alex studied him with an expectant look, and he knew she wanted him to elaborate. To talk about the experiences he’d had that had led him to such a conclusion, especially as it was a complete departure from the boy who’d left for the Middle East. The boy who thought there was only black or white and no middle ground.
But Holt wasn’t about to talk about the things he’d seen. Wasn’t about to try and explain to such a civilized person the atrocities he’d seen. No one deserved to carry such things around with them, but he especially didn’t want anyone he cared about having those images in their head.
“So maybe we wait a couple of days,” he said finally. “It’s for her own good, right?”
“Yeah. Let’s just keep telling ourselves that.” She took a sip of her soup. “So what now? The doctors will keep Mathilde overnight, so that’s done for today. The lab will take a while, and even if they find anything, they can tell you by phone.”
Holt considered their limited options, none of which he liked.
“Should we go back to the island?” she asked. “To, you know…look for the rest…”
Holt blew out a breath. “I don’t know. The body was probably dumped in the bayou. Killers don
’t usually like to leave evidence lying around.”
“So you think the alligator found it…Bobby…in the bayou somewhere and not on land?”
Holt nodded. “I’ll have to search the island, of course. I want everything by the book, but I’d be surprised if we found anything relevant.”
“And the barrette?”
“I just don’t know, and I’d like to have an educated guess before we talk to Sarah about all this.”
“I think—”
Holt’s cell phone sounded off, interrupting Alex. He glanced at the display and was surprised to see it was the lab.
“Holt Chamberlain,” he answered.
“Mr. Chamberlain, this is Officer Marceau with the New Orleans Police Department. There’s a situation at the laboratory you visited earlier today. Are you in a position to come here and help us make some sense of this?”
“What happened?”
“Someone broke in the back entry and assaulted the technician who was working on your case.”
Holt straightened in his seat. “Is he okay?”
“He got a good knock on the head, but he’s going to be all right. I’m afraid, though, that the assailant left with your evidence.”
“What?”
“I’ll explain everything when you arrive. Are you nearby, or have you returned to Vodoun?”
“No. I’m in a deli a couple of blocks away. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“What’s wrong?” Alex asked.
“We have to go,” Holt said and filled her in on what the police officer had told him.
“Oh, no!” Alex jumped up from the booth and hurried out of the deli after Holt.
He pulled away from the curb and glanced over at Alex, who was staring out the windshield, her expression a mixture of worry and confusion.
“But how did he know about the leg?” she asked, looking over at him.
Holt clenched the steering wheel. “He must have been following us,” Holt replied, knowing it was pointless to try and keep it from her.
Alex’s eyes widened. “Since when? The hospital? Vodoun? The island? Surely, you would have noticed a tail.”