The Baron Blasko Mysteries (Book 3): Claws

by Howe, A. E.

  She quickly washed and dressed for the evening. She wanted to have dinner and still have time to talk to Blasko before she met Matthew for the séance. She wasn’t sure if she would tell Blasko that Matthew was going, but she would definitely tell him about the séance. François frightened her. There is something about him that is… off, she thought.

  Blasko came into the parlor just as the last light of day disappeared.

  “You heard about the fight with the werewolf,” he said after fixing a drink for Josephine.

  “Bobby said you were riding him like a bull.” Josephine smiled.

  “I had never seen one that close. It was… impressive.”

  “Y’all were lucky to have survived.”

  “Tucker nearly didn’t. I won’t be going on any more werewolf forays without my sword,” Blasko said in the same manner that another person would have said they wouldn’t go out into the rain without an umbrella.

  “That’s going to be pretty conspicuous.”

  “I have a solution. Anton!”

  Anton came into the parlor carrying a wrapped package that was four feet long and a foot wide. Obviously the sword.

  “What is in the package?” Blasko asked the little man, who seemed befuddled by the question.

  “Your sword, Baron.”

  “No, no, no. What did I tell you to say if anyone asked?”

  “Ah! Rods for curtains.” His gnomish face broke into a smile, revealing several missing teeth.

  “Let me get this straight,” Josephine said, trying to keep from laughing out loud. “Anton is going to follow you around carrying the wrapped sword?”

  “Exactly. If anyone asks, he has curtain rods.” Blasko took a deep breath. “I know that it is ridiculous, but it is simply the best I could come up with. If you have a better idea, I’ll take it under consideration.”

  “No. I went to Parsons’s house and saw the destruction. Having a sword handy is probably not a bad idea.”

  She went on to tell him about the interview with Timothy Handlin and their visit to the Taylors. “Like I said, afterward I went through Parsons’s house. He and Madilyn Handlin were in love. Things might have changed recently, but…”

  Blasko’s eyes lit up and, with a flourish, he took a seat next to Josephine. “Maybe they were still in love. I’ve been doing more reading. Werewolves often seek out those they love.”

  “To kill them? That seems counterproductive,” Josephine said.

  “I’m talking about the freshly minted, undisciplined werewolves. Before they have learned to control themselves, when they change, their first urge is to seek out someone they love. Which, you can imagine, doesn’t go well.”

  “This is all according to your French dragoon captain?”

  “Duhamel. Yes.”

  “Parsons and Madilyn Handlin loved each other. What about the Taylor boy and the Chesters?”

  “Maybe Parsons was infatuated with Molly,” Blasko suggested.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “They are also known to hunt for food. Maybe he just stumbled upon Seth Taylor while he was out hunting. At five in the morning, he could be forgiven for thinking he wouldn’t run into anyone else.”

  “Bobby and I discussed the possibility that he killed Molly and her family to eliminate Molly as a witness to Seth’s murder.” Josephine glanced up at the clock on the mantel and stood up. “I have to go. I’m attending another séance.”

  Blasko stood up next to her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s necessary. Some of your concerns about François might be legitimate. I think he’s trying to influence the selection of a replacement sheriff.”

  Blasko frowned. “If that’s true, then his reason for being in Sumter is malevolent.”

  “I’m going to the séance with the express purpose of finding out.” She had decided to try keeping Matthew’s attendance quiet, but she realized as soon as she told Blasko about the séance that he wouldn’t want her going alone.

  “I will go and at least be nearby if you need me. I would go in with you, but…”

  “We probably don’t want François digging into your multiple generations of ghosts,” Josephine said, then sighed. “Matthew will be there.”

  “Matthew?”

  “He’s agreed to go as my escort. I thought he could be some protection.” The white lie would allow Matthew a little privacy. If he wanted Blasko to know that he’d sought out the séance, then he could tell him.

  “A wise precaution.” Blasko nodded. “How do you plan on getting more information out of François?”

  “Simple, I’m going to play it by ear.” She shrugged. “I need to go.”

  Blasko reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. “Be careful. I will come by and check on you.”

  “Will you bring your sword?” She tilted her head toward Anton, who had sunk down on a chair near the hall with the package still in his lap.

  “Of course.”

  “We’ll be at the Robertsons’,” she said and hurried out of the house.

  Blasko started to tell Anton to put the sword by the door when Anna came in, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Pardon me, Baron. Where’s Miss Josephine?”

  “She’s gone out already.”

  “Oh, this just came and I hoped I’d catch her before she left.” Anna’s usual calm demeanor was gone and she looked nervously around the room.

  “What just came?”

  “This note,” Anna said, pulling an envelope from her pocket.

  “Perhaps I could be of service.” Blasko held his hand out toward the envelope, but Anna hesitated. Normally, he wouldn’t use his abilities on a member of the household, but he was curious about the note. “Anna, I should probably take the envelope,” he said, getting her to focus on his eyes. “It would be best. After you hand me the note, you will feel much better. Won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Anna said.

  “Excellent. You always make the right decisions. Handing me the note is certainly the right thing to do because you always do the right thing.”

  Staring into his eyes, she extended the note. He calmly took it from her.

  “Thank you. You will feel much better now. I am sure you wish to get back to your kitchen.”

  “Yes, I do,” Anna said, and headed to the back of the house while Blasko turned the envelope over in his hand. It was addressed to Josephine Nicolson, c/o Anna. Feeling only a slight tinge of guilt, he opened the envelope.

  Inside was a brief note that read: I have something you have been looking for. Come tonight and pick it up before I do something rash. Sissy Lylou Masson

  Blasko frowned, fully understanding Anna’s odd nervousness. He and the bone doctor didn’t see eye to eye. However, his curiosity was piqued.

  “Anton!” he shouted.

  “Yes, Baron?”

  “Bring my sword. We’re going for a little visit.”

  “You drive good,” Anton said a few minutes later, as he bounced up and down in the back seat of Blasko’s car.

  “I do,” the baron said without modesty, swerving around a fallen limb in the road and then over-correcting and almost hitting an oncoming car that blared its horn at them. Anton had only been in a car a dozen times before this and he wasn’t sure if he was enjoying the experience.

  Blasko was headed out of town when he changed his mind and made a rough six-point turn to head back toward Colonel Etheridge’s house. He had wanted to talk with Etheridge anyway and he decided that having the colonel as backup at Masson’s riverside shack might not be a bad thing. Of course, he would’ve had a better idea of what might be necessary if Masson hadn’t been so cryptic in her note.

  “We’re going where?” Etheridge asked as he put on his coat.

  “Down to the river. I… We received a note from Sissy Masson.”

  “What does that woman want?”

  “She says she has something for us.”

  “I
n my humble experience, that woman is dangerous,” Etheridge said, opening the passenger door of the car. He flinched when he saw movement in the back seat. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

  “This is Anton Lacob. He is from my country,” Blasko said. “I thought I might need my sword.”

  “Indeed,” the colonel said, settling in for the ride.

  “You know Masson?” Blasko asked.

  “We’ve had dealings,” was the colonel’s cryptic answer.

  Blasko drove out of town toward Cotton Dock and the black community beside the river. Once he reached the river, he turned and followed the road to Sissy’s house, which was perched on the bank a fair distance from any other homes.

  The yard was strewn with strange artifacts and held a vibrant herb garden. Even in late winter, there were a number of plants thriving outside her cottage. The cabin was made of cypress, grey and weathered. Various wind chimes were hung around the roof of the porch and they rang in a breeze from the river. Blasko and Etheridge stepped onto the porch and heard laughter from inside.

  “Come in. Come in. I send for the woman and instead I get her dark side.” Sissy’s laugh was not infectious. Instead it sent a chill through everyone who heard it. It was the laughter of revenge.

  Blasko opened the door to the odor of a hundred herbs and tonics. Sissy was perched on an old sofa with her legs crossed, wrapped up in a wool blanket. Her looks were exotic and alluring, like the edge of a cliff.

  “Good evening,” Blasko said, determined to remain polite so the meeting could be as productive as possible. “Josephine wasn’t available. Since your note made it sound urgent, I thought I’d take the liberty of coming here myself.”

  “Liberty, indeed. And you brought the colonel with you.” She looked Etheridge up and down. “I haven’t seen you for a long time. You have no more trouble?”

  “The situation worked itself out,” Etheridge said, clearing his throat.

  “With a little help from Miss Sissy, no?” she said teasingly.

  “You were of some assistance. Not that you weren’t paid for your help.”

  “Pay. A good thing to bring up. As my note said, I have something that everyone has been looking for. Now, I go to some trouble to catch and keep it here and I think it only fair Sissy get some compensation,” she said with a slight edge to her voice.

  “We don’t even know what you are talking about,” Blasko reminded her.

  “I want to know that Sissy is getting something before I wake it up.”

  “Wake what up?”

  Sissy let out a huge sigh. “Okay, fine. In there.” She pointed to a door that Blasko hadn’t noticed before. He and Etheridge walked over to it, Blasko wondering if he should have brought his sword inside with him.

  The door opened into a small bedroom. A man-size cage sat in the middle of the room. Inside, they could make out the shape of someone curled up on the floor.

  “You be careful. Don’t you open that cage. That’s one crazy, wild woman.”

  “Is that Molly Chester?” Etheridge said, peering at the girl. She was wearing a strange dress and lying on a blanket.

  “That my dress. You have to pay extra if you want the dress.”

  “What did you do to her?” Etheridge shouted back at Sissy.

  “I not do anything except give her shit. I give her food. I give her a dress and a place to stay. You might want to come talk to Sissy before you do anything crazy like open that cage.”

  “She’s breathing regularly,” Blasko said, listening to Molly. He reached out and touched her arm. “She’s warm and her pulse is strong.” Blasko could hear her heart beating.

  The two men went back into the front room.

  “Where did you find her?” Etheridge asked, glaring at Sissy.

  “I don’t find her. A man who hunts things for Sissy found her. That was one wild girl. I had no rest till I gave her something to calm her down.”

  “What did you give her?”

  “You worry too much about the wrong things. She is better than when he brought her in here. You should thank Sissy.”

  “Why are you keeping her in a cage? You could be arrested for that alone.”

  “Big man who wants to be the sheriff should be very careful about who you arrest,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  “We’re going to take her out of here and you aren’t going to stop us.”

  “You pay me. I’ll tell you what I know. Then you take the girl.”

  “You are crazy if you think—” Etheridge started, but Sissy uncurled herself from the couch and stood up.

  “No!” she said to Etheridge. “I help you and you spit in my face. I should let you learn that a hot stove burns.” She turned to Blasko. “You are half in the other world. You should see her for what she is. Don’t you smell it?”

  “She is a werewolf,” Blasko stated. He had considered the possibility that Molly might be the attacker ever since he’d learned that inexperienced werewolves often kill the ones they love.

  “You knew,” Sissy said, clapping her hands silently. “When she was brought to me, she was changing back and forth. Unable to control her emotions. I gave her some meat laced with a potion to settle her down. When that wears off…” Sissy fluttered her hands as though raising the question up to her gods. “She might be wolf, or girl or crazy-between like when she was brought to me.”

  “We will need to keep her sedated until we get back to town,” Blasko said, knowing that he was negotiating at this point.

  “I can do that,” Sissy said and held her hand out, palm up.

  “Your price?”

  “You aren’t seriously going to pay her?” Etheridge said, astonished.

  Sissy’s dagger-like eyes whipped around to focus on the colonel. “Listen to me, old man. I ask for payment for the effort I expend. You wouldn’t have her if it wasn’t for me. I remember you coming to me, what, five years ago now? Yes. You had a problem. Not so arrogant then. You don’t want Sissy as an enemy. I am no one’s friend and many folks’ enemy. Very unhappy folk.”

  Blasko saw Etheridge blanch and knew that Sissy had made her point. “So, how much?” he pressed.

  “Five gold coins.” She pushed her hand out toward Blasko, who stepped back.

  With his eyes focused on her, he reached into his inner coat pocket and took out a small leather bag. He opened it carefully, taking five coins from it. After he put the pouch back, he stepped forward and dropped the coins into Sissy’s hand, which clamped shut like a steel trap.

  “I’ll get the potion,” she said with one last glare at Etheridge.

  They heard her rattle around in her kitchen for a few minutes before coming back with a small glass vial. There was a glass dropper in the bottle.

  They followed her into the room where Molly lay in the cage. Sissy opened the door and leaned in. Carefully, she opened the girl’s mouth and let two drops of liquid fall onto her tongue, then she closed her mouth and held it for a second.

  “You have three hours.”

  Blasko and Anton carried Molly out to the car. Sissy had informed them that it would be extra if she helped to carry the girl.

  “What should we do with her?” Etheridge asked as Blasko turned the car around and headed back to town.

  “Maybe we should have bought the cage too,” Blasko said, only half joking. “The safest place would be the jail, but if she changed where someone saw her, who knows what the consequences would be.”

  “I find it hard to imagine that she killed Seth Taylor and both her parents.”

  “She’d been bitten. I think her father tried to cut the bite mark off of her. Maybe she was even willing to have it done. However, when he started to cut, the pain must have caused her to change. Once she had changed, there was nothing that could save them.”

  “Baron, she will not change into wolf?” Anton asked nervously.

  “Not for several hours. So we’ll take her to Josephine’s. She can stay in my apartment. Ther
e are no windows in my bedroom and I had the door made of very stout wood.”

  “What can be done for her in the long run?” Etheridge asked.

  “There is nothing that will undo what has been done to her,” Blasko said as he drove through the dark streets.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Josephine came out of the house, she was startled by a dark figure standing on the other side of her Chevrolet. Matthew stepped out of the shadows.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate a ride to the Robertsons’,” he said.

  “No, of course not. I should have offered in my note.”

  “I appreciate this,” he said as Josephine drove.

  “I’m sorry, but I had to tell Blasko. He thinks the séance was my idea and that you are just going along as my escort.” She went on to share her growing suspicions about François.

  Matthew was quiet for a couple of blocks, then said, “Do you think he’s a fraud?”

  “He has some sort of power. What I’m worried about is that he’s looking for power of a different sort.”

  “If he has the power to contact people who have died, why would he want to get involved in local politics?”

  “Sounds crazy when you put it like that. What I fear is that he has bigger plans for Semmes County.”

  “There is a feeling… I can’t quite put my finger on what, but I have a growing sense of… anticipation.”

  From Matthew’s voice, it was clear that he didn’t quite know what he meant, but Josephine understood. Lately, she had also felt a combination of anxiety and expectation. Like when you hear a knock at the door and you aren’t sure if it’s your worst enemy or your best friend. Dragomir is right. There is a force drawing the odd, the unique and the deadly to Semmes County. We better be ready for whatever is coming. My focus for tonight is François, who apparently doesn’t want us to be prepared, she thought.

  The Robertsons’ driveway was full, so Josephine parked at the curb. As she got out of the car, she saw the glow of candles lighting the front rooms of the house. Matthew walked awkwardly by her side.

  “Come in! This is going to be the best séance yet,” Alice said, holding the door open for them. She gave Josephine a hug and turned to Matthew. “You are looking so good, Mr. Hodge. Everyone is very proud of you.”