Shadows: A Bayou Magic Novel

by Kristen Proby

  “Why?”

  “Because what I do takes me all over the damn world, Andy. I haven’t seen the inside of my apartment in Dallas for at least two months. I don’t even know why I have it. Not to mention, you said yourself that I see some horrible shit. That’ll bleed into any relationship.”

  “First, I want to know how this case has affected you.”

  “It messed with me,” I admit, knowing I can trust my brother. “Because it was less black and white than any other case I’ve worked. I’ve never had to deal with the paranormal. I didn’t think I believed in it before.”

  “And now?” We pause as the waitress approaches and takes our orders.

  “I’ve seen it,” I say bluntly when she leaves. “At first, I humored Brielle. She believed it, so I just went along with it. But what she described, and what she’s able to do? That’s not a hoax, man. And it’s not anything I can explain, even with all of my years of education and training. It just is. So, yeah, I believe it. Not to mention, I saw a friggin’ ghost myself, so…”

  “Whose ghost?”

  “The killer’s. He was standing in the middle of the goddamn road, I shit you not.”

  “Whoa.” Andy sits back in his chair, his eyes wide and pinned to mine. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was.”

  “And how do you feel about Brielle?”

  “I’m completely and irrevocably in love with her.”

  A slow smile spreads over my brother’s face. “It finally happened.”

  “Not sure what I can do about it, though,” I repeat. “My job doesn’t lend itself well to marriage.”

  “I didn’t say anything about marriage.”

  I laugh and shrug. “Yeah, well, that’s usually what happens when you decide you can’t live without someone, right? She’s it for me, and I don’t know how to make it work.”

  “I know the NOPD would hire you in a heartbeat. Not to mention, there’s an FBI field office right here. You can transfer. You have options.”

  “I most likely wouldn’t be a profiler anymore, though, and I worked my ass off to get here. You know that.”

  “Profiler, or be with the love of your life?” He holds up his hands at his sides as if he’s weighing something on scales. “I mean, I think it’s a no-brainer, man.”

  “I know.” I sigh. “Now, let’s get back to you. How are you doing?”

  “I miss my wife,” he says with a frown. “She needs to get home.”

  “We’re just a couple of lovesick fools.”

  “Ain’t it great?”

  I’m glad I had lunch with my brother. He always gives me a different perspective on things, and I feel better after talking with him.

  He’s not wrong.

  If I move here permanently, not only would I have Brielle, but I’d also have Andy and Felicia.

  It’s damn tempting.

  More than tempting.

  Let’s be honest, it’s probably going to happen.

  I push through the door of Reflections, Daphne’s store on the edge of the French Quarter, and smile when I see all three sisters sitting in a corner, drinking coffee.

  “There he is,” Brielle says with a grin and leaps up to offer me a kiss. “I missed you today.”

  “Same here.” I lay another deep kiss on her before we join the others. “I love your place here, Daph.”

  The pretty redhead grins and glances around her store. “Me, too. I could sure tell you some interesting stories here, Cash.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  She stands and places her hand on a tall, yellow vase. “This was made in 1923 by a man who lived in the bayou. He made it for his wife, who was about to have their first baby. Yellow was Mildred’s favorite color, and he had to do something to keep his hands busy while they waited on the child. He was so excited.”

  Daphne’s face turns sad.

  “But when Mildred went into labor, something went wrong. Both she and the baby died. So, he gave this vase to his cousin, who lived here in New Orleans.”

  “That’s horrible,” Millie whispers.

  “You can do that with every piece in here?” I ask.

  She nods and sits in the chair again. “I can do that with literally everything. I see the thoughts of the people who sat in airplane seats before me. I see pretty much everything, Cash.”

  “That has to be exhausting.”

  “I’m able to block a lot of it because I’ve learned to build my shields of protection, and Millie makes me potions for strength. It takes a lot to surprise me these days.”

  I turn to Millie. “And you’re proficient in potions and spells and such?”

  “Yes, I’m a hedgewitch,” she confirms. “I’ve studied for years. I’m also psychic, but not in the same way these two are. I don’t see the past or dead people. I read people’s minds. I can touch someone and see their thoughts, feelings, things like that. So, I try to avoid skin-on-skin contact most of the time unless I take precautions.”

  “Fascinating,” I mutter. “You’re all remarkable and more interesting than I can say.”

  “I like your boyfriend, Bri,” Daphne says, grinning. “He hands out compliments. He can stay.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” Brielle says with a laugh. “Now, tell us what you found out today.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Brielle

  “What’s going on?” I ask Cash. I don’t like the concern in his green eyes at all.

  “First of all, they found his body,” he says, and all three of us slump in relief. “He was in an old shed between his house and your mother’s.”

  “He must have been trying to get to Mama, to see if she could help him,” Millie says.

  “As a sidebar,” Cash continues, “speaking of your mother, the police visited her house while they were canvassing the area, looking for his body. They’re going to recommend she be institutionalized, and the house condemned.”

  I blink at him, then look at my sisters. “It’s for the best.”

  “Then why does it feel…not for the best?” Daphne asks.

  “Maybe they can help her,” Millie says. “Maybe getting out of that haunted house and being among professionals who can treat her will help. It won’t make her a nice person, but it has to be better than how she’s living now.”

  “Agreed,” I say and nod. “So far, this isn’t awful.”

  “Yeah, well, buckle up,” Cash mutters. “I spoke at length with Asher today. They’ve been gathering all of the evidence from his residence, cataloging and poring through it all. His team has worked very hard on this.”

  “Of course, they have,” I agree.

  “Horace was an intelligent man. Do you mind if I pace, Daphne?”

  “Of course not, pace away, just keep talking.”

  Cash stands and walks back and forth, speaking as he thinks. “He kept journals. From day one.”

  “How long?” Millie asks.

  “Nearly forty years,” Cash responds. “I’m going to be brutally honest with you all because you deserve to know the truth, but it’s not comforting information.”

  “We need to know,” I say firmly. “And after what we’ve all recently gone through, I think we can take it.”

  “Agreed,” Daphne says, as Millie nods enthusiastically. “Just tell us everything.”

  Cash swallows hard and then starts to tell us about the journals. The eyes, the blood, and the hair. Horace’s past and plans for the future come rushing out of him in a tidal wave, leaving us all breathless and wide-eyed.

  “He eventually wanted all of you,” Cash says at the end. “And he was moving down the line, one at a time. But for years, he practiced, honing his skills, perfecting his plans.”

  “Why us?” I wonder aloud. “I mean, it’s not like we knew him that well. He was just some guy that lived nearby and used to help our parents from time to time. Sure, he may have been sleeping with our mother, but it’s not l
ike we spent holidays with the man or called him Uncle Horace or anything.”

  “Well, I have theories on that,” Millie says, surprising me. “I remember when I was young, like maybe ten, Mama told me that I was Horace’s daughter.”

  Daphne and I gasp in horror.

  “Don’t freak,” Millie says, holding up a hand. “She was lying. Mama always lied. She thought it was fun to dick with people’s minds, remember? I’m absolutely not related to that man in any way. But I wonder if she told Horace the same thing, and he believed her?”

  “What if she told him that we’re all his children?” Daphne asks.

  “And so he wanted to kill his supposed daughters?” I ask. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Serial killers aren’t rational,” Cash reminds me. “Just because they’re smart, it doesn’t make them sane. So, if what Millie says is true, it’s absolutely possible that he believed you were his kids, and that’s where the fixation came from. We can only speculate on why he turned to sexually sadistic torture and murder versus requesting a simple DNA test.”

  “Well, that’s some messed-up shit,” Millie says with a sigh. “Not that it wasn’t already. Thanks for telling us.”

  “I’m not done,” Cash says. “There’s more.”

  “More?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah. This is where it gets bad.”

  “This is where it gets bad?” Daphne says, letting out a half-laugh. “Great. Give it to us.”

  “The three of you are his next of kin.”

  We sit silently, watching as Cash stops pacing and turns to the three of us.

  “Did you hear me?” he asks again.

  “So you know that he’s our father? Pretty sure that was a horrible joke,” Millie says.

  “I wish it were,” he replies gently. “And I don’t know about the DNA, but Horace had a very detailed will. It’s legal, and he names the three of you as equal beneficiaries, inheriting all of his property.”

  “Burn it,” I announce angrily. “Burn it all to the fucking ground.”

  “Great idea,” Daphne says.

  “And that means,” Cash continues, “that as executors of the estate, you have to decide what to do with his remains.”

  “Burn them with the fucking house,” I reply.

  “I’m quite sure you can do that,” Cash says with a nod. “Though maybe not with the house.” He grins. “No decision needs to be made at this time. The house is still a crime scene, and no autopsy has been done yet, so there’s no need to make a decision today.”

  “I say burn it all,” I repeat and stare at the teacup I have resting in my lap. I scowl as, right before my eyes, the warm liquid splashes over the rim and onto my leg. “Hey! What the hell?”

  “Did you spill?” Daphne asks.

  “No. I was just sitting here, and it just…sloshed over the side.”

  “By itself?” Millie asks.

  “Yes. By itself.”

  “You’re upset,” Cash says reasonably, and I turn my scowl on him.

  “I’m not an idiot. I’m telling you, I didn’t spill it.”

  “Okay.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I believe you.”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Daphne admits with a sigh. “Everything is just so…odd.”

  “Well, at least the worst of it is over,” Millie says.

  “Don’t jinx it,” I reply.

  “Cash?” I wander through my apartment later that night, after I return home from work.

  “Back here,” he says. I find him in the guest room, where he’s set up a makeshift office. “How are you?”

  “Tired,” I admit, a small smile forming as I climb onto his lap and nuzzle his neck. I love how strong his arms feel wrapped around me. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier today.”

  “I’d snap at me, too,” he says and kisses my hair. “It’s been a lot.”

  “A lot of what?” I raise my head so I can look him in the eyes. I absolutely love his green eyes.

  “Just a lot,” he says, leaning in to kiss my lips lightly. “And I haven’t really asked you how you’re holding up.”

  “I’m actually doing pretty well, all things considered.” And it’s true. I feel good. I feel relieved more than anything. “I guess today’s news threw me for a loop.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I thought we were done with all of it, and then to find out that we’re not, it’s just like he continues taunting us even though he’s long gone, you know?”

  “I know. It’s not fair.”

  “Can we refuse to be the next of kin?”

  “I don’t know the laws and regulations surrounding that,” he says as he brushes his fingers through my hair. “I suppose you could, but then I imagine the estate would go to the state, and God only knows what they’ll do with it.”

  “True.” I nibble my lip, enjoying the way his fingers feel in my hair. “I guess we’ll end up doing something about it.”

  “You don’t have to think about it today,” he reminds me. “So, set it aside for now. There’s no need to worry.”

  “You’re right.”

  He frames my face, his long fingers cupping my chin as he lays his lips over mine, consuming me with passion and lust.

  There’s always so much lust where Cash is concerned.

  Suddenly, I pull back and stare at him in horror.

  “What is it?”

  “Your hands are on my face.”

  “Yes?”

  “Who the hell is brushing my hair?”

  It stops. I scratch my scalp and shiver.

  “What do you mean, Brielle?”

  “Someone was brushing their fingers through my hair. I thought it was you.”

  “No, I was holding you, and then I was kissing the hell out of you.”

  I stare at him, then stand and shake my hair out. “Do I have bugs in my hair?”

  “Not that I can see.” He joins me, and it’s his hands brushing through my hair now. “No, I don’t see anything at all.”

  “That’s so creepy.” I shiver again. “I mean, I know I have spirits in this apartment, but they’ve never touched me before.”

  “Have spirits ever touched you?”

  “No, I just see them,” I reply. “And it’s all back to shadows now, which is a relief.”

  I move to clutch my stone pendant, but it’s not around my neck.

  “What’s wrong?” Cash asks.

  “I keep losing my damn necklace.” I walk over to my bedroom and sigh when I see it lying on my pillow. “I don’t know how it got here, but at least it’s here. I’ll put it on later.”

  “Look, I think you’ve had a lot on your mind,” Cash says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I suggest you take a long, hot shower, have some tea, and then I’m going to make love to you for the rest of the night.”

  “The whole night?”

  “Do you think I can’t do that?”

  “I mean, that’s a pretty bold offer, but I’ll take it.” I spin in his arms and grin as he kisses me deeply, those amazing hands cupping my ass and pulling me against the length of him. I can feel his already firm cock against my belly. “Maybe we should do some sex stuff before my shower.”

  “I can wait.” He kisses my nose. “Come on.”

  He leads me into the bathroom, where he proceeds to turn on the water and adjust the temperature. He helps me out of my clothes and holds my hand as I step over the side of the tub into the hot spray of the shower.

  “Okay, you were right. This is nice.”

  “I love it when I’m right,” he says, making me grin.

  “Why don’t you come in here and wash my back?”

  “If I come in there, darlin’, you won’t get clean.” He pokes his head around the shower curtain. “Take your time. I’ll brew you some tea.”

  “You’re handy to have around,” I call after him and listen to him chuckle as he walks out of the bathroom.

  I do enjoy having Cash aro
und, and it’s not just for his tea-making skills or even the intense sex we have almost every day. It’s so much deeper than any of that.

  There are times that I feel like he’s an extension of me, and vice versa. We haven’t talked about what will happen once his vacation time is over, and he has to go back to his life from before.

  I don’t want to think about the possibility that he’ll leave, and that this will just be a fond, sexy memory mixed in with the scariest time of my life.

  We’ve shared so much together over the past month. How in the world will I ever go back to being without him, as if he were never here?

  I turn and get my hair wet, then reach for the shampoo, thinking it over.

  I suppose I could ask Millie to make me a potion to forget he ever existed. But that seems even sadder than the thought of not seeing him anymore. At least, this way, I’ll have the memories of us, even if they make my heart hurt.

  I don’t want him to go.

  But I can’t go with him.

  And I can’t make him stay if that’s not what he wants.

  I don’t have any additional answers once my hair is rinsed of both shampoo and conditioner. One thing I do know is that he’s here now, and I’m going to enjoy every moment I have with him, no matter what.

  I push back the curtain and reach for a towel to wipe my face and wrap it around my wet hair. Then I grab a second towel to dry my body as I step out of the shower. I wrap the terrycloth around me and frown when I see my necklace sitting on the lip of the sink.

  It was on my pillow. I left it there earlier. I know I did.

  Cash must have brought it in for me. He’s so thoughtful. I reach for it and pull the long chain over my head, then see movement on the fog-covered mirror.

  A chill runs down my spine.

  An invisible finger is marking up the fog on the glass.

  I’m still here. H.

  I back up and reach for the doorknob.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I hear Cash in the other room, and there’s pounding on the door now, but I can’t get the knob to turn.

  “Brielle, what’s wrong in there?”

  “I can’t open the door!”

  “Let go of it.”