Murder, Ye Bones

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Murder, Ye Bones Page 9

by Rachael Stapleton


  He squeezed me tighter.

  “But seriously what’s wrong? Is it my father?”

  “Sweetheart, why would you assume something’s happened?”

  “Umm… gee I don’t know. You said you had to work and couldn’t come and now you’re standing in my cabin at seven in the morning.” I stepped closer.

  “I missed you, and clearly you missed me too.” Cody plucked at my… his shirt. “Please tell me you haven’t been pining.”

  I pretended to clamp a hand over my mouth. “I’ll never tell.”

  “Damn.” He darted his eyes from detail to detail like he couldn’t take it all in at once. “Anybody ever tell you you’re gorgeous first thing in the morning?” He gave himself a mental shake.

  I smiled, taking in the dark-wash jeans that hung low on his hips and took the plate he offered me with an appreciative grin, “You’re not too bad yourself although I do think you’re a little overdressed for the weather.” I poured us both mugs of coffee and carried it all to the table. Then I noticed his hair was different. “Hey! Did you get a haircut? You look like a twenty-two-year-old hipster,” I stood and ran my hands through the fade on the sides and he chuckled.

  “I did. The cut is called the Pompadour according to Bohemian Lake’s newest barber. He’s quite trendy.”

  I smiled, “Well, I like it. It works well with your scruff.” Cody had an around the clock beard. He never shaved clean, which was fine with me ‘cause he already looked young.

  “Seriously, though babe. I thought you had to work. How are you here right now?” I took a bite of my French toast and groaned. “Not that I mind.”

  “You’re so cute.” His teeth closed over my pulse. “I could eat you up, but you only love me for my cooking.”

  I rolled my eyes, “please, you live on take-out.”

  “True, but you live on egg whites and protein shakes so you’re pretty easy to please.”

  “Also true.”

  He rolled up the sleeves on his crisp navy-blue button down, revealing corded forearms and tucked into his meal. “I wanted to make sure you were alright. I spoke to Daemon last night. He really didn’t tell you I was on my way?”

  “No. Why didn’t you just call me?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. I asked him not to tell you, but I hardly expected him to keep it quiet. You’re quite nosey, Penelope Trubble. Anyway, Daemon’s been talking to Madam Vianu about what’s been happening here, and she’s got a bad feeling.”

  “Everything’s fine.” I waved away his concern. “You just wanted a vacation, admit it.”

  “Nope.” He glared at his fork. “I absolutely hate all of this gorgeous scenery. If only there could be more dead bodies.”

  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. Cody noticed and pounced.

  “What’s got you so twitchy?” His nose wrinkled. “You ready to admit you’re a little nervous this time around.”

  Glowering at him, I resisted the urge to defend my pride.

  “Nana told me she had a vision and she can feel your fear. She thinks maybe you and Danior should come home now. She wants me to step in and help Daemon.” Cody shoved his plate of half-eaten food away. I couldn’t tell if he didn’t like his own cooking or if the topic had turned his stomach. Either way, I was making eyes at his bacon. “I know you hate backing down and believe me, Pen, nobody thinks you’re weak or any less of an investigator but you know what Nana’s visions are like.”

  His comment about Nana’s concerns swept chills down my arms, but now was not the time to show weakness. “Would you leave if you were in my shoes?”

  “Probably not.” He shrugged. “But I’m not as smart as you.” He looked good, even if what he was saying was ticking me off.

  “Perhaps I’m not smart either then,” I wrapped my hands around my warm mug. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know when my gut feels wrong about something and it’s been all kinds of upset here.”

  “What exactly is bothering you?”

  “Everything about this case. Did you look into Maman Brigette’s daughter? Were there other missing girls around that time?”

  He nodded and slid on his dark navy blue-rimmed reading glasses, they made the blue of his eyes that much darker, and I secretly salivated. I loved that Cody was a tough alpha protector of the community but I was even more attracted to the sleek beta male who read novels in bed with me at night. He reached into his laptop bag, pulling out a sheet of paper. Here’s what I found, but I really think you need to let this go.” Leaning close, he breathed me in, and his breath tickled the shell of my ear. “Just go home. Live to fight another day.”

  A horn honked loudly from outside. “What’s that all about?” Penny asked setting down her mug and picking up a fork.

  “That would be Mr. Wraith. I’m going with him to help smooth things over with the Inspector. It seems there’s been a bit of habitual toe-stepping.”

  Spinning the fork on my palm, I jabbed him in the abs, and he jumped back. “Listen here, Lumos. This is not your jurisdiction. You don’t get to just waltz in here thinking I’m gonna let you take over my case.”

  “Now, Penny… sweetheart…”

  “Oh, no you don’t. Don’t you sweetheart me. He let me rant until I ran out of steam then cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are you finished?”

  “No.” I sucked in air for part two and then promptly deflated. “That breakfast was a bribe. A lie covered in delicious cinnamon. And you burnt the bacon!”

  “You’re a cruel woman, Penny Trubble.” He clutched his heart like I’d ripped it out with the fork. “I thought you liked it crispy.” Short blasts from a car horn had him cursing under his breath. “Baby.” His smile dripped with honey. “Can we talk about this some more when I get back?”

  “Oh, you can bet on it.” I bared my teeth and hissed. “I’m not going anywhere. Now you better get your butt out there before Wraith sends in the rescue party.” I unlinked our arms. “Try not to betray me some more while you’re out, okay?”

  “You’re just being stubborn,” he said, incredulous as he pulled on scuffed black boots. “But I knew you would be, and I told Nana that.”

  “You did.”

  “I did, and I told her I disagreed.”

  “Really, well, then. I’m glad you know me so well. And I do realize you have a point.” As much as I hated to say it, there was no denying that. Nana’s intuition was always on point and my gut had been churning for days now. Never a good sign. “But I’m still mad at you for not calling ahead and telling me all of this.”

  Quick as a flash, he stole a kiss from me, just a brush of his lips that set mine tingling. “Good thing I’m too stubborn to care.”

  “Y-you kissed me,” I stammered.

  “That’s not a kiss.” His knuckles scored a line down my cheek. “However, I am willing to demonstrate the proper method. With tongue.”

  “Get goin’, Lumos. The only thing saving your butt right now is this sheet of paper,” I shoved him back with a palm to his chest. “Next time keep your lips to yourself until I say I forgive you.”

  “What fun would that be?” His cocky grin resurfaced. “You taste like cinnamon.”

  “And you taste like a Tic-Tac you popped knowing you were going to put the moves on me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  _____________

  “H ow’d Penny take the news?” Daemon asked Cody, after they suited up. Wesley had stepped out of the room for a moment to speak with the Inspector.

  “About like I thought she would.” He replied. “You ever seen a rabid dog?”

  “Just on television,” Daemon said with a laugh. “That mad though, huh?”

  “Yeah, now imagine something that would frighten that beast.”

  “The tissue samples are back,” Wesley said coming back into the room.

  “Right. You said the victim had taken some kind of a hallucinogenic drug?” Daemon said, turning his attention to the M.E.

  “An ancient one,
at that,” Wesley replied. “Ayahuasca.”

  “Ayahuasca?” Daemon was thoughtful for a minute. “That’s used in shamanic initiation rites throughout the Amazon, right?”

  “Very good, yes, it’s a psychedelic brew—one of the most powerful hallucinogens on the planet. It’s made by boiling the leaves of a plant called chacruna with the ayahuasca vine,” Wesley told him.

  “So, was she high enough that she was seeing things?” Cody asked.

  “Yes and let’s hope she was in a happy place because I also found trace amounts of tetrodotoxin which means she was most likely paralyzed,” Wesley told him.

  Cody winced and Daemon nodded. “Okay, now I need you to come back to the Plantation with us. I want you to see something before we call anyone else in.”

  “Oh, no. Not another body,” Wesley said, staring at him.

  “Concealed in the basement,” Daemon admitted.

  Wesley shook his head. “What is it with you and dead bodies?” he asked. “Can you please just find Bianca Santos—alive.”

  “I’m trying,” Daemon assured him.

  “Have you called Oliveira?” Wesley asked.

  “Yes. He’s meeting us there.” Daemon hesitated. “I’m hoping the mummified tissue will tell you if there were any drugs—like the shaman drink—in her system when she died. I think there’s some kind of connection between what went on back then and what’s going on now.” He hesitated. “And I need you to do a DNA test.”

  “Who am I comparing her DNA to?”

  “Maman Brigette Medeh.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  _____________

  I sat in the plantation’s dining room with Yasmin and Carlos, complaining over a cup of coffee. It was times like this I missed Eve, my surrogate mother and all-round pain-in-the-butt sidekick.

  “And now I’m just supposed to go home. Can you believe that?”

  Yasmin shook her head, “I know it stings the pride, Ms. Trubble, but it sounds like Nana loves you a lot and she’s not usually wrong. I hate to say it ‘cause we love having you here but maybe you should listen. Seems to me your man only wants to see you safe. You shouldn’t be mad at him.”

  “Agreed. He’s only looking out for me but it still feels sexist.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, take Wraith with you when you go. The man is the grim reaper.”

  “Oh, Carlos!” Yasmin chided.

  “He’s a ghost hunter—he can’t help it if the ghosts lead him to their bodies or other people’s bodies,” I said and stood up, suddenly impatient.

  “I guess,” Carlos huffed, “It’s just all so awful. I don’t know what you see in this place, Yasmin. I’ve always found it creepy.”

  “What are you talking about? It makes a beautiful resort hotel.”

  “For ghouls,” he said.

  “I have an idea. Let’s go pay a social call,” I suggested

  Both Yasmin and Carlos stared at me as if I had lost my mind.

  “I want to see Maman Brigette.”

  “Why?”

  “Her daughter disappeared—in or around this house.”

  “You think she’s the corpse buried in the basement, don’t you?”

  “I can’t say for sure. Wesley is over at the cabin now so I guess we’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, I want to talk to Maman Brigette.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say it but I can’t go with you. With this place finally up and running, I have guests to tend to. Which reminds me, Penny, did you want your original room back?” Yasmin asked.

  I paused to think about it.

  “Well, just let me know. I’ll leave it open for now.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Carlos replied. “But what about Cody and the spirit chaser? Won’t they have something to say if you’re not supposed to be investigating anymore?”

  I glared. “Just let them try.”

  “All right,” Carlos said with a sigh. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  _____________

  C ody sat in the car, staring straight ahead as the three of them headed back to the cabin. “You certainly have a gift for attracting the dead.”

  Wesley chuckled and Daemon groaned aloud. “Not you too, Lumos.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, it’s just all the other guys down here. They’ve been busting my chops.”

  “Well, you did find a body after only one day.”

  “Hey now. We were diving—hoping to find a body when I found the doctor in her car.” He fell silent for a moment.”

  “Right. You just found the wrong body. Dr. Alexandra J. Newirth, social psychologist.” Cody laughed as he said it. “Can’t you change the station or tune in that ghost detector gift of yours?”

  Daemon smiled and rolled his eyes. “Don’t I wish. Mind you, everything I find is usually connected.”

  “Really? Nana seemed to be under the impression that the doctor just had an accident.”

  Daemon nodded, “The Inspector assumed that, but more and more I’m starting to think there’s a very real connection. I just can’t figure out what it is.”

  “Wesley, what did the autopsy tell you?” Cody asked.

  “She drowned.”

  “Alcohol in the bloodstream?”

  “No.”

  “Strange. I wonder how her car ended up in the water?”

  “I assume she was speeding.”

  “Are you basing this on a history of speeding tickets?”

  “No. What am I a traffic cop?” Wesley looked from Cody to Daemon. “You think the doctor was involved with the missing girls?”

  “The timing is interesting,” Daemon answered. “And the fact that we found her while we were looking for Bianca. Could be nothing but it could all very well be connected too.”

  “Interesting. All right, you’ve got Alexandra Newirth and the unidentified woman from the beach.” Wesley stated.

  Damon nodded. “And two missing girls, and a houseful of bones. We know the unidentified woman were all drugged, but Newirth was clean.”

  “So what does Lise Trix have to do with any of that?” Cody asked.

  “That’s the million-dollar question. She’s a total mystery, other than the fact that she and Bianca look like twins. Then we have rumors about murders and disappearances from the past, bones in the walls, and now a body in a trunk. How does it all connect?” Daemon pondered.

  “Don’t look at me. I’m just an M.E.,” Wesley reminded them. “What does Oliveira think about you two trying to put all these pieces together?”

  “I guess we’ll find out. Like I said earlier, he’s meeting us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  _____________

  C at opened the door to our knock, looking gorgeous despite the fact that she wore an orange and black printed jumper reminiscent of the Flintstones cartoon. It was belted at the waist, worn with platform shoes and, to top it off, she had an oversized bow in her hair. I had to stop myself from calling her Wilma.

  “Tudo bem?” She asked in her happy sparkly voice, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that the two of us had come by first thing in the morning. “Maman Brigitte will be thrilled to have company.”

  Carlos was staring at Cat the way a dog stared at a juicy bone. I didn’t doubt that he really cared about Izzy, and I was sure it would be hard for any male not to be entirely charmed by Cat Nascimento, but I drew the line at drooling. He looked positively hypnotized.

  I nudged him in the ribs. “Um, sorry. We’re fine. How are you—and Maman Brigitte?”

  Cat just laughed. “We’re both fine, too. Come on in. She’s in the parlor, reading.”

  Maman Brigitte’s house was built along the same lines as the plantation, and Cat led us into the parlor on the left.

  Maman Brigitte, resting in an armchair, an afghan over her knees, looked up when we entered. There wasn’t a hair out of place on her powder-white head. She had on a lovely silk blouse and I assumed that much
like Nana Vianu, Maman wouldn’t dream of changing into something more comfortable until she retired to her rooms for the evening.

  I handed her the bouquet of flowers Carlos and I had stopped to pick and she barely glanced at Carlos before fixing her gaze on me.

  “Is everything okay?” Her voice rose several octaves. “What is going on, Penelope?”

  “Everything is fine, Maman.”

  “You’ve come to see me then. Thank you, dear, and these look lovely. I do so love fresh flowers. Tell me, have you learned any more about what I told you?”

  Cat, who probably heard her talk about the past all the time and was glad we were there to listen, said, “I don’t know about you two, but I need some coffee, and I’m getting Maman Brigitte’s favorite tea all set up. I’ll be right back.” With a smile, she took the flowers from Maman and was out the door.

  As soon as she was gone, Maman Brigitte looked at Carlos suspiciously and spoke to me as if he couldn’t hear. “And who is this devilishly handsome man?” she asked.

  “This is Carlos Donazan. Yasmin’s cousin and my friend. He’s helping get the resort up and running.”

  “You remind me of one of those detectives, Carlos. You know the ones from the femme fatale movies.”

  “I laughed, you mean the ones who are always drunk?”

  Maman waved her hand. “Everyone was drunk back then. And we all smoked like chimneys,” she added with a laugh.

  “Sounds like you had fun,” I said, although I personally couldn’t stand the smell of smoke, but she patted my hand and grinned.

  “Boy, did I.”

  “Maman Brigitte,” I said, “we’ve discovered that a number of women who went missing from the Island during the time of your daughter’s disappearance, and at least some of them seem to have been linked to the Plantation. You said your daughter disappeared on her way there. I was hoping you could tell me a little more about what was going on, then; if maybe you knew the other girls; if maybe what’s happening now is repeating a pattern that’s played out before.”

 

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