“It’s an existential crisis mostly,” his partner replied and chuckled at Johnny’s disapproving look. “This is something to start with. We still need to look around but if we can find the person she bought that from or who it was for we might get somewhere.”
“It was for me.” The two partners turned quickly toward the unexpected voice. Vic drew the gun and aimed it at the new arrival. He was a ghost but unlike most of those Johnny had seen, he was not skeletal. He still had the odd color that ghosts did, in this case bright green, but he had a human body and wore simple jeans and a shirt. He didn’t have flesh but the appearance of it, and the young detective could see straight through him unlike Ciro, so he wasn’t a phantom. He studied his face, which seemed familiar. “Wait—you’re the guy in the photo?” he asked and gestured to the picture on the nightstand.
The ghost nodded. “My name is Dwayne. I was Jessy’s friend.” His fists clenched and he began to tremble. “Are you here to help find her killer?”
Chapter Eleven
After a few minutes to allow the tension to ease, the trio relocated to the living room. Johnny and Dwayne sat on the sofa and Vic stood in the center and observed the other ghost. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, can you fill us in, Dwayne?” he asked. “Jessy died over a month ago. I assume she was the one who brought you over, so how are you still here?”
“She didn’t,” the newcomer stated, folded his hands together, and leaned forward. “She was supposed to. Every year since I passed on, she would bring me over. It was her gift.”
“She’s an empath, then?” Johnny asked and received a nod in response. “She could bring you over at will?”
“Kind of.” Dwayne took a moment to compose himself. “She had the ability to peer into the ghost world but only for brief periods. When I died, she found me and we would talk to each other while I got used to the other side. Eventually, she found out how to make a portal—well, mostly. She began to use stygia so she could keep the windows open longer, then learned about portals and how to make them, although she could never get it quite right. But with enough stygia, she learned to hold the window long enough that the rest of the ritual would start and open a portal for a few seconds. That’s all you need to get through when you know where it will open.”
“That’s the kind of thing that gets empaths arrested or risks bringing seriously bad things over.” Vic folded his arms disapprovingly. “The kind of things even the dead want dead.”
“I know.” The other ghost sighed. “I…I never got over my death in a car crash a little over four years ago. It was sudden and violent. When I arrived in Limbo, I was in shock for who knows how long.” He rubbed his head and the movement drew attention to a long scratch running from the top of his head down to his neck.
“I wandered to this forest one day and I heard Jessy’s voice. That was the first time she opened a window and I saw her again. I was so relieved. She said that even after I died, she could still feel me and had been searching.” His voice shook with emotion. “She helped me to adjust and find the final feeling of closure and know that everyone else—my friends and family—were healing.” He looked at the two partners. “Ghosts need closure too, sometimes.”
Vic gave him a comforting nod. “So if you got used to the afterlife, you were probably caught up on the rules. Getting permission to cross over is rare for new spirits.”
“Yeah, I know. The risk of going back means I might become too distraught to return or keep my form and get obliterated.” He leaned forward even more and rested his elbows on his knees. “I only wanted to see her again and maybe feel her. She had found a stygia supplier and pawned some of her jewelry to get it. After all that, I felt I should at least try. She wanted to see me too.”
“Were you family or boyfriend?” Johnny asked. “Husband?”
Dwayne chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, I was a close friend since childhood. She was always dear to me but when I started to have romantic feelings, it wasn’t for her.”
The young detective nodded. “Still, to have a connection between life and death is something else.”
“So how did you end up here if she didn’t bring you over?” Vic asked in an attempt to get to the meat of the matter. “If you had this connection, could you tell she was dead?”
“It took me a while to feel that connection.” The other ghost straightened, his lips pressed firmly into a grim line. “I wasn’t used to being a ghost so everything felt strange and I couldn’t pick up on it at first. But after some time, I learned to recognize it—like this warmth or jolt that would go through certain parts of my body when I was close to her, or as close as I could be across the divide.”
He looked at his hands. “Even if it was faint, I always felt it but one day…” He balled his fists. “Nothing. It was gone but a second before it disappeared, I felt that jolt stronger than I ever had, except it was cold. I had almost forgotten what cold felt like at that point.” He placed his fists on his knees. “I thought something had happened so I went to the places where we would usually talk, but she never came. I checked with the ferrymen and attendants at the new arrival gates and asked if they had seen her. One of them told me she was listed as dead but hadn’t come through yet. When I died it was instant—one second I could see the front of my car crushed and the next, I was in Limbo. They couldn’t tell me what it meant that she hadn’t arrived yet.”
The partners kept their thoughts on this to themselves. “So how did you get permission to come topside?”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I had done several odd jobs to get doubloons over the years and Jessy had bought some from the market for me as well. Whenever I came through, she would send me back with more.” He looked around the barren living room. “She did so much for me.” He shook his head. “I used every coin I had to get a load of stygia and pay a ferryman to bring me back.
“I had to find her. If she hadn’t arrived, she was still stuck in the world of the living. After everything she did for me I had to help her, even if I risked Oblivion.” He began to tremble again. “We traveled through the river to a bridge and a door with a dim light around it. I stepped off and walked through it to cross over. I ended up in a bar—the Carnivale—and when I came out of the bathroom, the first thing I saw was a news report talking about the killings and how the body was left.
“A few other ghosts were in the bar and some were talking about it. One of them said it was because they had their life sucked out of them and their soul stolen.” He thumped a fist on his leg. “I haven’t found an answer yet. Can you tell me?” he asked and looked at Vic. “Does that mean they are gone? If Jessy’s soul was taken, does that mean she was obliterated?”
The ghost detective clenched his jaw and the lights in his eyes darkened as he pulled his hat down. “I’m not trying to be a fence-sitter here, but I honestly don’t know. What we’re tracking isn’t something I’m all that familiar with. Of the types of spirits that can take a soul, most simply trap them, use them like batteries, or take them as a compulsion. If you get rid of them quickly enough, everything is fine except the trauma. Geist and demons can obliterate a soul, but this being? We have no idea what it is, does or even why it wants the souls in the first place.”
Dwayne processed this for a moment and nodded before he leaned back. “I see. That’s the closest I’ve come to an answer.”
“I’m sorry it ain’t much,” Vic apologized but the other ghost held a hand up.
“That’s all right,” he said, his voice a whisper. “It’s something. Maybe—possibly—a little sliver of hope that it’s like the former and not the latter.”
Johnny nodded and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dwayne, I have to ask—your body…the only way a ghost can get like that is by using a hell of a lot of stygia at once. How long have you been up here?”
“A week,” he answered and looked at his hand. “When I saw the report and Jessy’s name as one of the victims, I was so angry I forgot I had my bottle of s
tygia in my hand. I broke it and spilled it all over me.” He sighed and lowered his hand. “I probably have another day, maybe two before it runs dry. I’ve looked around all week and came here on the first day but the police had already moved on. Now and then, I come to check in case…maybe she would be back.” He leaned forward, pressed his hands to his lips, and closed his eyes. “You said you're investigating this case. Are you a part of the NOPD?”
“Nah,” the young detective replied. “We’re private investigators on a gig. But we are looking into this…being, whatever it is.”
“We came here looking for leads,” Vic stated. “Do you have any?”
Dwayne tapped his foot. “Not that I haven’t checked myself. But I’ve kept a low profile. There are too many dead gangsters, cops, and the like running around.” He pointed at his neck. “I don’t have one of those pendants that says you are cleared to be up here. Many don’t, I guess, but I kind of stand out right now. I’ve checked the Limbo market and haunts to see if anyone had any clues, but they either didn’t or wouldn’t tell me.”
Johnny nodded and removed his hand while the ghost took a moment to compose himself. He looked at one of the walls and when he noticed a picture, he pushed off the sofa and took it down. It was another picture of Jessy with a friend but the face of the other person was ripped out. “Dwayne, do you know who this is with Jessy?” he asked and brought the photo to him.
The color in the ghost’s hand darkened and he was able to hold the photo as he studied it. “I think this is Annie,” he said and tapped her hand. “Annie Maggio—that ring is hers and the clothes seem like her style.”
“Were they good friends?” Vic asked. “I’m not sure why she would tear her face out like that.”
“Yeah, Jessy and Annie have been friends since the eighth grade,” he said and handed Johnny the picture. “She didn’t say anything about them having a fight or anything. No one had problems with Jessy. That was one of the first things I checked—no jealous boyfriend or anything, living or dead.”
“Then this probably wasn’t done by her.” The young detective looked knowingly at his partner.
The ghost detective nodded. “Do you know her address?”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Dwayne asked and stood quickly. “I can take you to her.”
Vic shook his head. “No, you need to get back to Limbo.”
“But if this could lead to finding out who—”
“If it’s the being we think it is, you can’t do anything to it and you would simply end up obliterated or as food,” the ghost detective interrupted and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I understand, Dwayne, but if you don’t get back to Limbo and they catch you here, they will send you to Purgatory or fine you. Since you said you spent all your coin to get here, you will still go to Purgatory—or the Big Dark which ain’t any better.”
“We can cross into the ghost world,” Johnny said, took the photo out of the frame, and zipped his jacket. “I promise that once we take care of this bastard, we will tell you.”
“Hey.” Vic squeezed the other ghost’s shoulder and handed him the vial of stygia. “What good does that little sliver of hope do if it turns out she is alive and you are gone, huh?”
Dwayne clenched his jaw but nodded slowly a few times. “All right. They live in a shotgun house, 1446 Tulip Lane.” He relaxed. “Thank you.”
“No need. We’re doing our job.” He patted him on the shoulder and turned to Johnny. “Let’s go, kid,” he said and drifted quickly to him. “And let’s hope we find more clues rather than bodies.”
Chapter Twelve
“I texted Valerie,” Johnny stated as the cab pulled up to the house, “to see if she could give us anything about Annie. She hasn’t replied yet.”
“It’s not a surprise,” Vic replied as his partner paid the driver and they stepped out. “They might already have her on another case or dealing with paperwork. She said she was still low on the totem pole at the moment.”
The young detective shut the cab door and looked at the pearl-colored shotgun house. He scanned the yard and noticed that they had neighbors but were spaced fairly far apart. With a small shiver, he frowned at the dark clouds rolling in to announce imminent rain. “I checked news sources. Annie Maggio’s name never came up,” he said as they approached the door.
“It means she’s either still alive or hasn’t been reported dead yet,” the ghost detective replied thoughtfully. “And if she’s alive, we might wanna play this more sensitively than normal, so try to not destroy anything quite yet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Johnny muttered, knocked on the door, and waited. “Do you think she’s a specter too?”
“So far, that’s all we have in terms of similarities among the victims.” Vic shrugged. What I’m trying to answer is why the police didn’t notice the torn photograph.”
“Maybe it wasn’t torn at the time,” Johnny reasoned. “Didn’t you once tell me that phantasma can linger if the ghost is around often and leaves a larger imprint?”
“Yeah. So you think it came back?”
He nodded. “Maybe it was also looking for something it missed.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Back on the road, it said ‘not the one’ after it sucked that dude’s soul up. It's not simply going on a rampage but is looking for something specific.”
His partner stroked his chin. “Yeah, it's on some kind of mission.” They could hear steps coming toward the door. “Let's stop it from getting any more objectives for now.”
“Agreed,” he replied as the deadbolt was unlocked and the door was yanked open. Surprisingly, it did not reveal a woman.
A man in his mid to late twenties with slick black hair stood at the entrance. He was dressed in a striped bowling shirt and jeans and regarded his visitor curiously. “Can I help you?” he asked with a hint of an Italian accent.
“My name is Johnny. I’m a supernatural detective—bounty hunter…uh, supernatural detective bounty hunter. I’m looking for Annie Maggio.”
The man leaned casually on the door frame and pointed at Vic. “Do you know there’s a spook with ya?”
“Well, I guess that answers that question,” the ghost stated plainly.
Johnny nodded. “Yes, sir. We’re a package deal.”
“Uh-huh.” The man frowned. “What do you need with Annie?”
Vic drifted closer. “Sir, there’s a good chance she might be in danger.” The young detective took the photo from his jacket and handed it to him. “We found this at Jessy Thompson’s house. It makes us concerned that whoever attacked Jessy might have plans to target her.”
The man took the photo and traced the area around the missing face. “Are you serious? What could the bastard who did that to her want with Annie?”
“We’re still trying to piece that together,” Johnny replied. “Is it all right for us to come in and speak to her? You as well?”
For a long moment, the resident leaned against the frame and stared at the photo. He drew a breath, nodded, and motioned for them to follow as he handed it back. “Yeah. Shut the door behind you, would ya?” The partners entered and did as requested. “Annie!” their host called. “Come on out here. We’ve got guests! They got something important to talk to ya about.”
“Are you her boyfriend?” the young detective asked.
“Huh? Nah, I’m her brother.” He grinned. “Don’t you see the family resemblance?”
Johnny flashed the photo at him. “I haven’t seen her face, man.”
“Oh, right.” He turned and extended a hand. “I’m Marco—Marco Maggio.”
He nodded and shook the proffered hand. “Like I said before, I’m Johnny and that”—he pointed to the ghost—“is Vic.”
“Pleasure,” his partner said quietly.
“Is your sister a specter too?” Johnny asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. It runs in the family.” He looked at the ghost. “No offense if she jumps when she sees ya. Just because she can see ghosts doesn’t mean she’s a
ll that used to them.”
Vic shrugged. “It comes with the look.”
The back door closed and a woman appeared wearing a tie-dye blue shirt and white pants. She had long black hair and soft features and dusted her shirt off hurriedly. “Who is it, Marco? I’m still doing the garden and look like—” She glanced at her brother and Johnny but more importantly, caught sight of Vic. While she didn’t jump, she did utter an audible “eep” and froze in place for a moment.
“It’s all right, Annie,” Marco said calmly. “These are some…uh, detectives. They need to talk to you.”
Johnny stepped forward and extended his hand. “Hey, Annie. My name is Johnny—Johnny Despereaux—and this is my partner Vic Kane.” The ghost removed his hat and held it against his chest as she shook hands gingerly. “We need to talk about Jessy Thompson and possibly about you.”
“Jessy?” she asked with a small frown. “So you are looking into— Come on into the living room.” The group followed her and she motioned to the sofa where the two partners sat while she and Marco each chose a chair on either side. “What do you need to know?”
The young detective handed her the picture. “We first need to confirm—this is you, right?”
She took the picture and looked at it, her eyes sorrowful as she nodded. “Yes. We took this at the park a few months ago.” She bit her lip. “Was it damaged in the attack?”
“We’re not quite sure,” Vic admitted. “But we think there’s a chance that whoever targeted Jessy could come after you.”
“Me?” she asked, surprise on her face. “Why would they target me?”
“Again, we’re not quite sure.” He looked from her to Marco. “The only thing we can deduce so far is that they are focused on specters. You both fit the bill but since he tore your face out of the pic, we thought it would be better to come and speak to you directly.”
“So you know who’s doing this?” Marco asked and balled his fists. “I’ve kept up with the news and this guy has killed at least five people now. New Orleans is a beautiful place but it has a dark underbelly. I’m used to hearing about killings but they are usually gang-related or crimes of passion, things like that, but this guy is a serial killer.”
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