Shadows: A Bayou Magic Novel

by Kristen Proby

  Her lips quirk into a smile. “No, they have lavender in them, which is good for relaxation.”

  “Just lavender?”

  “I know, it’s boring. But if you really want something magical—”

  “No, this is fine.” I pour the salts into the bath and gesture for her to climb in.

  “You know, I was thinking about the killer this evening, and—”

  “No. We’re not talking about it tonight. We’re going to rest and let our minds reset. There’s nothing we can do tonight anyway.”

  She sighs as she strips out of her clothes, not self-conscious in the least to be naked in front of me, and steps into the steaming water.

  “You know what, I can live with that.”

  “Me, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I don’t feel guilty for anything.”

  - Ted Bundy

  What a pity.

  He stares at the lifeless body on the small bed in disappointment.

  He’d had plans for this one. So many wonderful ways he was going to play with her. He wanted to make it last with her, let her go for hours before he finally killed her.

  She was special.

  Of all his toys, she was the one who cried the least. She didn’t really make any noise at all, and he was excited to see what it would take to hear that voice.

  But instead, she found a way to hang herself with the ropes he used to tie her hands.

  She didn’t try to get away, which was interesting. She didn’t untie the others.

  No, instead, she used the rope to simply hang herself.

  And if he were honest, that made him like her even more.

  Though it was a pity that he couldn’t play with her more.

  “Ah, Brielle. Look what you did,” he says as he untangles her from the rope. Her blue eyes are bulging, her face an interesting shade of purple.

  But her hair is still long and soft.

  So he lays her on the table and washes her hair, braids it, and cuts it for his collection. Even though he wasn’t the one to finally end her life, he was ultimately the cause of her death, so he deserves the satisfaction of seeing her hair in his collection.

  Brielle would want that for him.

  He smiles in satisfaction as the hair joins the others, and then he carries the lifeless body outside and throws her over the railing to the swamp below.

  She’ll sink within minutes.

  Either that or a ’gator will come for her.

  He should really be considered a conservationist, given how much food he provides for the critters of the bayou.

  With that thought in his head, he grins and walks back inside. He really prefers to have more than three girls at a time, but since that one killed herself, he’s down to just three.

  That won’t do.

  “I’ll have to go hunting this evening,” he says with a sigh and sets his hands on his hips. “If I’m careful, I could take two. That’s tricky, but I’ve done it before.”

  Neither of the remaining girls is crying. The one he’s had the longest is sleeping. He checked her vitals earlier and verified she’s still alive, just tired.

  That’s understandable.

  He made one of the other girls rape her with a broomstick for about an hour this morning, and that’ll tucker a girl out.

  He turns to one of the other remaining girls and smiles.

  “Hello, Brielle.”

  “Sarah,” she responds coldly. “I’m Sarah.”

  He doesn’t reply. Not at first. The anger is swift and hot, but he doesn’t want to hit her. At least, not yet. The fire burns so fiercely in this one. He wants to draw it out a while. He needs to see how long it’ll take before he finally breaks her mind, then he’ll mutilate her body.

  He’s looking forward to it.

  So, he simply leans in until his face is just inches from hers. He can smell the stink of her. If he put her outside, the bugs and rats would have a field day.

  “You should thank me,” he whispers. “I could make it so much worse for you than this.”

  She doesn’t reply, just turns her head away in disgust.

  He leaves her be and walks back to the sleeping girl. He pushes his fingers through her hair, enjoying the way the strands feel against his skin.

  He’s already getting hard.

  “Brielle, wake up. We’re going to have some fun.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brielle

  “Come on!”

  It’s happening again. Six girls gesture for me to follow them, and then suddenly, I’m back in the horrible torture room. It’s daytime. Light filters through a dirty window, catching on the dust floating in the air.

  There are still three girls, including the one who saw me last time, but the other two are different.

  The ones who were here before are dead.

  They helped to lead me here.

  Knowing that he’s already killed them makes my stomach sink. He’s killing these girls so quickly that it seems he will make his way through many more before we find him.

  Light shines under the door that leads to the rest of the house. I can hear he’s listening to music.

  Hello by Adele blares through the room, barely muffled.

  I used to love that song.

  Not anymore.

  I need to get through that door so I can see who he is and where I am. I need to go back with information so we can catch him before he kills these poor girls.

  I start to walk toward the door, but a voice stops me.

  “It’s you again.”

  I turn to find the girl from before staring at me. The same one from last time.

  “You can see me?”

  She nods and swallows hard.

  “I never let him see that he scares me. My brothers always taught me to stand my ground, to never let them see you sweat.” She sniffs. “I’m never going to see them again, am I?”

  I don’t know.

  I hope she does.

  “Sure, you will,” I say and try to smile at her. It’s only been a day since I last saw her, but I can see the fight leaving her. The fear, the torture, the torment are taking their toll. “You have to stay strong. You have to keep fighting back.”

  “It makes him mad. I talk back to him. I bit him when he tried to touch me.”

  “Good for you.”

  She turns, showing me her bare back where whip marks weep with blood. “I was punished.”

  “Please tell me your name. Tell me what he looks like.”

  “He calls us all Brielle.”

  My heart stops.

  “What did you say?”

  “Brielle,” she says again. “Like you.”

  Before I can ask more, someone tugs on my arm, and I turn to see one of the spirits beside me, her eyes wide. “You have to wake up. Right now. Wake up, Brielle.”

  The phone rings beside Cash. He grunts sleepily as he reaches over and answers his cell.

  “This is Winslow.” He listens, and sleep leaves his face entirely as he looks over at me. “We’ll be right there.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “The bastard tried to take someone tonight, but he fucked up. She got away.”

  “Oh my gods.” I jump from the bed, and we hastily dress, then hurry from my apartment to Cash’s car. There’s no traffic at this time of night, and we arrive at the police station moments later.

  “Cash and Brielle for Lieuten—”

  “He’s expecting you,” the receptionist says immediately. She doesn’t even ask Cash for his weapon as she buzzes us through, and we hurry through the bullpen to Asher’s office.

  Before he opens the door, Cash turns to me. “Let me do the questioning.”

  “I will.”

  He opens the door, but when we step inside, the office is empty.

  “Over here,” Asher says from behind us, gesturing for us to follow him. “She’s in a more comfortable office. She’s scared shitless.”

  “Catch us u
p,” Cash says as we follow Asher down a long hall.

  “She came in, crying and asking for help. She was out with friends and said a guy dragged her out of a bar on Bourbon. You can ask her some questions, as well. I don’t know much more than that, she’s only been here about fifteen minutes.”

  Cash nods, and we follow Asher into a small lounge. There are several comfortable chairs, one sofa, and a kitchenette that boasts coffee and little else.

  It’s definitely more comfortable for a scared girl than Asher’s official office.

  “Hi, my name is Cash.” He approaches the girl with authority but does so gently. He squats in front of her, not too close, and doesn’t try to touch her. The girl cries softly. “What’s your name?”

  “Shelly,” she whispers. “Shelly Diaz.”

  “You’re a brave woman, Shelly,” Cash says, surprising her. “I’m proud of you. I’m sure you’ve already told Lieutenant Smith what happened tonight, but I’d like for you to tell me, as well. Take a deep breath and think it through. We need you to be as descriptive as possible so we can find this person.”

  “This all feels really extreme,” Shelly says with a frown. “I mean, I thought I’d give a statement, but I don’t know much. Drunk dudes must assault girls on Bourbon every single night.”

  “I’m sure they do,” Cash says, nodding at the girl as he shifts the chair next to hers to face her, then sits in it. “But there’s someone out there kidnapping and killing women.”

  Her eyes round, her hands clench, and all of the blood drains from her face.

  “Holy shit.”

  “You might be the one person who can help us figure out who this bastard is, Shelly. So, we really need you to be as descriptive as possible.”

  “Holy shit,” she says again and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Well, I didn’t get a good look at him. The place was dark, and I was standing at the bar, waiting for a drink. Some guy came up to me and asked if I was having a good time. Told me I was pretty. It happens all the time, and that’s not my ego talking, it’s just the truth. Like I said, guys hit on girls in bars every night.”

  “I understand,” Cash says. “Keep going.”

  “So, I didn’t reply to him, just nodded. I didn’t even look at him because I wasn’t interested in being friendly with some strange dude. I have a boyfriend back home.”

  “Are you on vacation?”

  “Yeah.” Her lip quivers. “I’m here with some friends from Dallas. We drove over because I’d never been here before, and we wanted to have some fun.”

  “Go on,” Cash urges.

  “I didn’t say anything, I just nodded. Then, this guy kind of pulls on my elbow, I guess to get my attention, I don’t know. So I said, ‘Look, mister, I don’t want to talk to you.’ Sometimes, you just have to be blunt to make them go away, especially if they’ve been drinking. And, well, you know how it goes.”

  “Sure,” Cash says.

  “The next thing I know, he’s tugging me through the bar to the exit. He’s got a vise-grip on my arm, and he’s just yanking me.” Her lip quivers again. She lifts the sleeve of her top, revealing bruises just above her elbow. “I was yelling, but it was so loud in there. And crowded. There were people all around, but he told them we were just having a fight, and that he was taking me out where we could talk rationally.”

  “What a jerk,” Asher mutters, catching Shelly’s attention.

  “He was more than a jerk,” she says. “I’ve taken self-defense classes, and I knew that the worst thing I could do was let him get me alone or leave that bar.”

  “Good girl,” Cash says. “You’re absolutely right.”

  “I didn’t think he was trying to take me, I thought he was trying to rape me. I’ve been raped before, at a party in college, and let me tell you, he didn’t scare me so much as he pissed me right off. No man is ever going to do that to me again. Ever. So I fought back. But he was really strong. Like, way stronger than he looked.”

  “What did he look like?” Cash asks.

  “He’s not really that tall,” she says, thinking it over. “Not much taller than me, I’d say. He has gray in his hair, and he’s a white guy.”

  “A middle-aged white guy,” Asher says. “Can you narrow it down a bit? Did he have any scars or tattoos?”

  “Not that I saw,” she says, plucking at her bottom lip as she seems to think it over. “I don’t really know what his face looks like because I was trying to get away from him. I didn’t stop to memorize it.”

  “You’d be surprised what you might have noticed,” Cash says. “Did he have a big nose?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Wrinkles? Was he overweight?”

  “He was average.” She shrugs. “And I didn’t see any wrinkles. He smelled, though.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a cat box.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Like a dirty cat box.”

  “How did you get away?” I ask, speaking for the first time. Her eyes find mine as if she didn’t realize I was there until now.

  “I kneed him in the balls and planted my elbow in his jaw, then ran inside. He’d shifted to turn the corner, and I saw the window of opportunity and took it.”

  “Wow, that’s awesome.”

  She smiles at me. “You look just like my older sister, Lisa.”

  “What did he do when you got away?”

  “He called after me, but I was already hurrying back into the bar. I went right to the bouncer and told him what’d happened. He stayed with me while I found my friends, and then they all convinced me to come see you.”

  “You did the absolute right thing,” Asher says. “Everything you did tonight saved your life. You should be damn proud of yourself.”

  “I’m scared shitless,” she says. “Do you really think he would have killed me?”

  “Yes,” Asher says simply. “I know your friends are waiting for you, but do you want a police escort back to your hotel?”

  “No, we’re driving right back to Dallas after this. I don’t want to stay in New Orleans. It’s safer at home.”

  “Just let us know if you change your mind,” Cash says kindly. “And if you think of anything else, something he said or even the color of his eyes, call us right away.”

  “I have a question,” I say, surprising them all. “Did he introduce himself when he approached you? Did he say, ‘Hi, my name’s Dave,’ or anything like that?”

  “No.” She sighs, frowning. “But he did call me a strange name. I never told him my name, and he kept calling me something. So, at first, I thought he had me confused with another person.”

  “What did he call you?”

  “Brianne or something—”

  “Brielle?” I offer, and her eyes light right up, confirming my worst nightmare.

  “Yeah, that’s it. It’s different. Pretty. But not my name.”

  “Okay, thank you,” Asher says and leads Shelly out of the room.

  Cash and I stare at each other, not saying a word until Shelly is gone, and Asher returns.

  “He’s after you,” Cash says.

  “I just remembered that the other night when I dream-walked, the girl he’s holding told me the same thing. She said he calls them all Brielle. I completely forgot.”

  “Now we need to interview you,” Asher says, dropping into the sofa across from me. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “He knows you,” Asher counters. “And he’s killing you, every fucking day.”

  I swallow hard as bile rises into the back of my throat.

  “That’s enough.” Cash’s voice is hard as he turns to me. “I checked out both of your ex-boyfriends. The guy from college lives in Arizona with his wife and two kids. The guy who used to own the tour group moved to Miami and got married last month.”

  “Good for them.”

  “So it’s not a past lover,” Asher says with a sigh. “A friend? A brother, cousin, childhood frie
nd?”

  “I don’t have any brothers.” My mind is whirling with possibilities. Who the hell could be doing this? “My father’s dead. I don’t have many male friends. Or friends in general, actually. They usually think I’m too creepy.”

  “Why?”

  My smile is thin. “There’s a shadow sitting right next to you. It has one ankle crossed over the other knee, and his arm is resting on the back of the couch as if you two are on a date.”

  Asher jumps up and rushes over to the kitchenette.

  “There’s a shadow standing to your left, right in front of the coffeepot. It’s been moving back and forth from that spot to the sink and back again since we came into the room. It’s as if he’s making coffee over and over again. Which he very well might be doing. He could be stuck in a ten-second loop, repeating it over and over again for all of eternity like an echo. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like its own kind of hell to me.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Asher mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as if all of the hairs there are standing on end.

  “I could keep going. I told you, I see dead people. It’s who I am. So, if I’m going to be close to someone, they have to not only accept that fact, but they also can’t be faint of heart.

  “When I was younger, I tried to hide it from friends at school or boys I liked. I mean, who wants a creepy Debbie Downer around all the time, right? I know I don’t. But, sooner or later, we’d be somewhere, and it would come out.”

  “Keep going,” Cash says. When Asher frowns at him, he says, “This could lead to a light bulb moment.”

  Asher nods. “True. Keep going.”

  “Well, like one time in high school, I went to the movies with this guy I liked. Jeff Anderson. He was nice, kind of geeky. Anyway, he asked me out, and I said yes. We get to the theater, and it’s an old one. There were so many shadows wandering around, it scared the hell out of me, and it takes a lot to do that.

  “But I was young, and I really liked Jeff, so I just took a deep breath and sucked it up. We got our popcorn and Cokes, and when we walked into the auditorium, Jeff led me to seats in the middle of the place. But there were shadows already sitting there.”

  “What did you do?” Asher asks.