Vivien remained silent. She understood, but was her own soul obligated to do something about it?
“You’re worried about your own salvation,” Santeria astutely acknowledged. “You feel that the bad part of him must be stopped. In order to do that, you’d have to arrest the man. As a man, he is innocent. I see your dilemma, but you agreed to protect him if you discovered his true identity. Didn’t you? You promised that the last time we spoke.”
“I did. I promised I’d protect his identity.”
“Listen child, ask yourself, were the fifteen murders justified? Were they bad people? Did he save some aspect of the city from their evil deeds?”
“They were bad people, very bad people, but I fear he acted in revenge.”
“Don’t confuse revenge with vengeance. Revenge is the desire to retaliate. Vengeance is justified punishment. You have to consider all the good along with the bad. You need to trust in the balance he maintains. I trust you to keep your word, Vivien. In fact, I hold you to that promise.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Tell me who he is?” Santeria prodded.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“See, you’re already protecting him,” she chuckled. “I have one other question that has plagued me for a while. How did the waitress see him as both? I wonder if she has missed her calling… I mean, it seems that she has a greater purpose than waiting tables. I wonder if you could look into that for me. I’d really like to meet with her. Could you pass that message along?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Come see me anytime you need to talk,” Santeria offered as she walked Vivien out.
***
After Vivien left the shop, the initial anxiety was gone, but she was still confused. She decided to simply follow the investigation. She went back to Sabrina’s condo to question the security guard.
Gus Small, the guard on the job the day that Sabrina’s movers came, was on duty now. Vivien asked him a few questions, got the information about the moving company, and noticed that sweat dripped down the sides of his hairline. He was very nervous. She continued to question him about Sabrina’s murder, but he wasn’t forthcoming with anything new. Tired and weary from the recent mayhem, she then threatened, “I know you’re hiding something. If you know anything more about this you could be arrested as an accomplice or for obstruction. All I have to do is call my boss and the precinct will make your life a living hell. Now, tell me everything!”
“Look, this really scary dude showed up. He had a woman with him. He threatened me and my family. He said he only needed to get inside to remind one of his gambling clients to pay-up. After Ms. Devereux was murdered, I worried about it, but I didn’t know what to do so I waited. I could lose my job.”
“When did he arrive that day?”
“It was about the same time the movers came. Everyone was so busy; I lost sight of the man and woman amongst all the others. I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know he wanted to hurt Ms. Devereux. I swear it.”
Vivien got a description and it matched Randy Petrov and Natasha Flint. Now, she figured that while the movers were busy taking furniture out of Sabrina’s home that Petrov and Natasha must have slipped in and hid. It seemed to fit with everything else she knew – and it was why they were murdered in a back alley.
“Has anyone else questioned you about this? Have you told anyone else what you just told me?”
“No, no one has asked.”
Vivien visited the moving company. After questioning the employees and owner, she felt confident that none of them had been working with Petrov. Everyone she talked to was sincerely heartbroken over Sabrina’s death.
Chapter 13
As Alec stood with Cassidy, Catalina, and Chaz at Sabrina’s graveside, he didn’t think he could bear the loss. Zach Weaver stood behind Cassidy and Celina stood behind Chaz. Vivien Simon, wanting to pay her respects but not intrude, watched the small gathering from a discreet distance. As the service concluded and the first shovel of dirt thudded on Sabrina’s coffin, Alec fell to his knees in anguish, crying unashamedly.
His thoughts were dark. All of his hopes and dreams of a happy life with Sabrina were shattered. Now, everything he’d ever desired was being buried beneath each scoop of earth. The sounds and thoughts of it nearly drove him mad.
Martin Saguache observed his grandson and knew that Alec had hit the fourth stage of grief – depression. He also knew that Alec would have to ride the wave alone. There was nothing he could do at the moment to ease his heir’s pain.
After several moments, Chaz took Alec by the arm and helped his friend to his feet. Cassidy and Catalina crowded close, wrapping their arms around Alec. They wept together as a family.
Soon, Zach Weaver patted Cassidy on the back and then left to get the car. The long, black limo was large enough to accommodate the entire party. They made their way back to Carrollton Avenue. Once inside, neighbors and parishioners made an endless procession through the family home to offer their condolences. They brought food and drink for Sabrina’s wake. Alec didn’t seem to notice. If he’d been aware of the scene, he might have told the hypocrites to leave his family alone – the bastards had never done anything in the past to warrant such an outpouring of concern now.
Catalina sat close to Alec and whispered, “Please Alec, don’t be sad. Sabrina is happy now. She wants you to be happy too. So does Grandfather and all our ancestors. They’re watching; they hope you’ll overcome this loss. You still have work to do.”
Alec didn’t respond. He sat on the sofa and held his head in his hands, his grief threatening to take him down the rabbit hole of despair. Although he knew his sister was right, he didn’t have anything to say or any words to offer.
He’d also seen the host of ancestral spirits gathered at Sabrina’s funeral service. His grandparents, great-grandparents, even his father was there, along with so many more that looked on the proceedings with solemn awareness. Sabrina was there too, along with her parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. Their ancestral line seemed endless, especially when joined for the same sad service.
Alec had noticed that Sabrina’s face was now serene and peaceful. Although he’d wanted her to find peace, it still hurt because the ties that had bound her heart to his were no longer there. That cord was snipped, completely cut-off and severed now.
He was just a bloke mourning her loss.
Once she had taken spirit form, once she had left her body and rejoined the light, all human attachments and emotions were also gone. Her life and the life she’d shared with Alec was only a distant memory. It hurt deeply for him to realize that he was now merely a recollection.
It was the miracle of death.
Sabrina was released from the worries of the world through death’s mysterious process. She was freed after he had released her soul at the morgue. He was nothing to her now, not really, even though she was the love of his life.
Alec felt the loss of their connection and wondered if he would ever find the same freedom in life? Or would only death remove his misery?
Chapter 14
Alec Winters was a mess. Nothing that Cassidy or Catalina tried could bring him out of the stupor and depression he’d fallen into the day they buried Sabrina. He sat on the living room sofa for three days, never moving, never sleeping or eating, until Cassidy, as a last resort, called Chaz Lambert.
“Chaz, we need you over here. Alec hasn’t budged an inch since we returned from the cemetery. I don’t know what else to do for him. Catalina and I have tried everything. Please, come help us if you can.”
When Chaz arrived, he asked Cassidy for liquor, hoping the desensitizing effects would give Alec some reprieve from the memories of Sabrina’s torture and the overwhelming grief he suffered.
“We don’t have any alcohol in the house. After Buck died, I poured everything down the drain and none of us have had any use for more. Do you honestly think it will help?”
“I’m hoping i
t will numb the pain and suffering,” Chaz replied. “Don’t worry…I’ll take him to a bar not far from here. Trust me. If I give him a sedative, his body will burn it off faster than it can work. Remember, how much morphine I had to give him when he was shot? He has a high metabolism, but he needs some form of medicating. I believe this is the quickest way.”
The small local bar was closed for repairs, but Chaz forged on. He drove to the Quarter where most bars never closed for any reason. Once they were inside a pub on Bourbon Street, Chaz ordered two shots of whiskey. The bartender sat one in front of Alec and one before Chaz. Directing Alec’s hand to the small glass in front of him, Chaz ordered, “Drink it.”
Alec did as he was told and downed the drink. Next, Chaz pushed his shot glass over to his friend. Chaz repeated the order several times and the bartender left the bottle sitting within reach of the pair. Chaz watched closely as Alec downed the fiery liquor. After a few glasses, he noticed that Alec had lost the strained, tortured look around his eyes. Maybe it was doing him some good.
Never having had any alcoholic beverage, it burned Alec’s throat on the way down, but after the fourth shot, the cool liquid fire ignited something deep within him. Alec liked the numbing effects. He downed several more small glasses, pouring them himself, without the bartender or Chaz’s encouragement.
Meanwhile, Bubba Lee Pierre, a local thug and con artist sauntered down Bourbon Street. Called ‘Hubba-Bubba’ by those closest to him, Bubba was five eleven and weighed at least four-hundred-fifty pounds, maybe more. His legs were huge, bigger than most men’s chests, and he walked with his feet wide apart to accommodate their bulk. Bubba could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, but his cronies, George and Willy, thought he was a big old teddy bear.
Bubba had pulled the same ruse on many an unsuspecting tourist in the Quarter and it almost always paid off. Now, he spotted a young, average-sized sightseer fresh off the bus and unaware of the many scams locals ran on tourists.
“Watch this,” Bubba said to his two younger, slimmer comrades who accompanied him. Bubba approached the visitor and said, “I bet yo twenty dollars I can tell yo where yo got yo shoes.”
“No way,” the gullible young man replied.
“Wass yo name?” Bubba asked.
“Teddy,” the eager youth replied. Being from Florida, he felt confident that this ape of a man couldn’t guess the names of any of the stores there. “And there is no way you can tell me where I got these shoes. I’ll take your bet.”
“You got bank?” Bubba asked as he pulled out his own Red Lobster and shook the bill under Teddy’s nose before handing it to George. Teddy pulled out a twenty and gave it over to the keeper as well.
“Now, tell me smartass, where did I get my shoes?”
“I said where yo got yo shoes, remember? Yo got them on yo feet!”
Teddy was so surprised; he didn’t say anything at first, then he sputtered his disbelief, “Wha-what?”
“Ha-ha! Look at his face. He knows I got him,” Bubba guffawed and chortled along with his friends.
“Yeah, you got him a’right,” George laughed.
“That’s fucking cheating!” Teddy ranted once again in control of his voice.
“Oh, and yo mama always said life was fair,” Willy scoffed.
“It was an honest bet. Yo just a sore loser.” Bubba said as he pocketed the money.
Teddy, there to celebrate his twenty-first birthday, was indeed a sore loser. He was also incensed. After bus fare and the shuttle to the Quarter, he only had forty dollars to spend on this trip and now he had only half of that. He’d thought it worth the wager for a chance to gain a third in the gamble. Angry that he’d been tricked, he shoved Bubba, but his puny efforts didn’t budge the oversized bully. Teddy felt intimidated and outnumbered as the three cornered him, their fist clenched as if to give him a good pounding.
“Best to let it go,” Willy advised.
In the interim, Max, the bartender watched Alec and Chaz from the corner of his eye. He knew the ‘Doc,’ as everyone called Chaz Lambert, and he trusted him. He’d used him to sew up a knife wound the previous year. Still, he couldn’t imagine why Doc was feeding this guy so much booze. One shot glass right after the other.
Suddenly, Alec jumped to his feet and took off running. The bar door clattered noisily against the outside wall when Alec rushed outside. The fire ignited by the liquor boiled his blood.
“Whoa! Elvis has left the building! What’d you do, Doc? Create a monster?” Max chuckled loudly as Chaz hurriedly fumbled out the money to pay the tab and then took off after his friend.
Alec exited the bar just as the three locals cornered the tourist. Thinking a crime was in progress, he ran full throttle towards the foursome. Like a blur, he picked up Bubba, the most intimidating of the crowd, and ran several yards before he found an alley. Alec disappeared down the side street still holding Bubba and shaking the huge man as he ran. By the time Chaz settled with the bartender and got outside, Alec was nowhere to be seen, but several people were scratching their heads and looking in the opposite direction.
“Ah shit!” Chaz exclaimed. “What have I done?”
Knowing full well that Alec had never had a drink in his life, he had force-fed his friend the booze. He knew Alec was athletic and had been well-trained while in the army. He should’ve foreseen that it would affect his adrenaline, but hadn’t considered it until now.
Alec transformed into the demon, and at the sight of the monster, Bubba began to cry and was certain that he would die. He was off the ground, hanging in the air, and something terrible had him in its fiery grip. Bubba closed his eyes and began to blubber, sobbing loudly.
Chapter 15
Martin Saguache had looked as far into the future of his grandson as possible. With the information gathered, he had warned Danaé Chisholm of what she could expect. Danaé had followed Martin’s instructions and was also in the alley when Alec ran down it with Hubba-Bubba.
Exactly where she was supposed to be at that very moment, she waited. Everything that happened – Bubba and Teddy, Alec drinking in the bar with Chaz, Danaé waiting in the alley – played out as if the entire scene was orchestrated. And it was. Everyone played their parts perfectly by universal design.
Danaé wore a black, one-piece jumpsuit made of polyester, vinyl, and spandex that covered her from its V-neck to her slender ankles. Everything about the attire allowed for her freedom of movement and speed, but it also spoke of her confidence. Her blonde hair was loose and hung in waves, falling softly around her shoulders.
Danaé used all her Krav Maga skills and power as she sped towards Alec. Jumping high, her four inch heels forcefully slammed into his abdomen. Although the tactic might not have worked as well if not for the overkill of whiskey, the impact jarred Bubba from the monster’s surprised grasp.
Back on her feet, Danaé stood between Alec and the lumbering oaf, Bubba. “Run!” she yelled, “Run now and never look back!”
She didn’t have to tell him again. Scared out of his wits, Bubba high-tailed it out of the alley and hurried down Bourbon Street. He ran in the opposite direction and away from George, Willy, and Teddy. They followed him, wanting to know what had happened, but none of them could catch up.
Bubba ran faster than he had ever run in his life. He ran like the wind. He ran as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels – and he would never speak of the terrifying incident again.
Now, alone with Alec, she softly called out, “Alec, it’s me – Danaé, Danaé Chisholm. Come back to me.”
Alec was mystified and a little drunk as he looked at his old high school friend. She had hardly changed at all. Peace settled over him and his persona returned to the man Danaé knew and loved. He finally found his voice, “What brought you to New Orleans?”
“You.”
“Me?” Alec replied, still slightly dazed from the alcohol.
“You,” she repeated.
They could hear sirens in the dis
tance. “I guess someone called the police,” Alec said as he looked embarrassed and hung his head. “I don’t remember what I did, but I’m certain that’s about me.”
“They’ll be looking for you,” Danaé replied as she took his hand and led him further into the alley and around a corner.
Alec felt an ecstatic and thrilling current from the slight contact and he willingly went with Danaé. That old feeling and mystery, the alluring familiar scent that was so appealing all those years ago, held him in its grasp. It evoked many memories and strange sensations. He’d noticed it every time Danaé was near while in high school. It was memorable and enticing. Now, it returned with a vengeance – but this time, he couldn’t resist it.
Meanwhile, Chaz had lost sight of Alec and feared the worst. He was afraid that Alec would be arrested again for something he didn’t do. Chaz blamed himself. “Real bright idea, you idiot,” he self-chastised.
He wandered down Bourbon Street and then looked along other streets in the Quarter in hopes of finding Alec. After an hour, he didn’t know what else to do, so he called Cassidy, “I don’t know what happened, Cassidy. He drank a few shots of whiskey and then ran out of the bar like his pants were on fire. I lost him. I’m so sorry. The police are milling around questioning a group of men about something, but I don’t honestly know what happened or if it has anything to do with Alec.”
Catalina, always psychically aware of her brother’s movements, had already warned her mother about the situation saying, “Alec is fine, Mother. He’s confused, but he’s not in any real danger. I think he’ll be fine.”
Cassidy discreetly repeated the message to Chaz. “Don’t worry. Catalina heard from him. Everything will be all right. Thank you for getting him moving again. Go home and don’t let it worry you for a moment longer. He’ll come home when he’s ready. He always does. I can rely on that, Chaz. Alec always finds his way home.”
Harbor City (An Alec Winters Series Book 4) Page 6