by Jaycee Clark
Weird eyes, she thought. They were a dark brown, and with the man’s pale hair and complexion, the dark, almost black eyes stood out. Maybe he had contacts. Something about them tugged at her mind, but she brushed it aside and pasted on a smile.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Depends,” he said with a smile.
She arched a brow. Normally, she might play along but her head hurt too badly. She had two ghosts following her every move. Two. Not just the lady in white, but some redhead in a navy dress. Looked like she stepped off a nineteen-forties movie set. Well, other than she sort of floated above the ground by several inches.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked him, realizing he was still speaking to her.
“Some of the cinnamon loaf and one of the quiches would be perfect.”
“Gotcha.” She hurried with his order. “Anything else?”
“Cup of tea would be great as well.”
She ran through the options, waiting, not so patiently, as he finally made his selection. The line behind him was growing and Sammy came out to help her.
“Here you go.” After ringing him up, she passed the change to him, their hands brushing just for a moment. A cold darkness sparked and slid up her hand, then her arm. She jerked her hand back and looked at him. He had his head down recounting the change.
Really? He didn’t tip her either.
Then he looked up and those black eyes locked onto her. He smiled, but unlike the previous polite smile he’d given her, there was an edge to his one. Or so she thought. She blinked and the look, the instant of something else there, was gone.
“Thank you, Paige.” With that he turned and walked away. She watched him even as she served and rang up the next couple of customers. He took a seat near the window and read a paper. Then he pulled a folder from his backpack slung over the back of the chair and studied whatever was in it.
She shook off the strange dark feeling. This is what happened when doors were opened. Weird things happened. Shadows jumped and freaked her right the hell out. This was why she had always ignored the others.
Sammy came bouncing up to her. “Man, this morning is insane, chicky.”
Paige smiled at her friend. Always going, always running. Wild blonde curls danced from the braid Sammy had attempted this morning. “Busy mornings mean more money, so that’s okay with me.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t had a breather since like five this morning. Must be a convention or something in town. Do you know?”
“No idea.”
Her friend studied her and then grinned and nodded. “Glad to see you two are still at it.”
“What?”
“Oh please, don’t play coy, it really doesn’t become you.”
Paige straightened the napkin dispenser near the register. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on.”
Paige grinned at her friend and crossed her arms. “Fine, I’ll share mine when you share yours.”
“I, clearly unlike some people, don’t have anything to share.”
“You could.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. You and St. Cyr practically start forest fires with all the sparks between the two of you. What’s up with that?“
“What?”
“Playing coy doesn’t become you either.”
They paused as they each helped a customer.
“Look, St. Cyr is… well, he’s…”
“Yeah?”
“He’s just… just… him. Maybe at one point I thought there could be, but honestly, no. So I’ll find my guy elsewhere. Plus the boys were talking and I heard he may be putting in his papers, joining the boys.”
“The depth of that statement is astounding. Joining the boys?”
“Quitting the force and working for the family.”
“You say that like a true Italian.”
“Smart ass. What about you and Mike?”
Paige grinned again. “Mike and I are... exploring.”
“Exploring or exploring?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Never mind. If he breaks out the cuffs and blindfolds, you will.”
“Well, I hear St. Cyr has cuffs.”
Sammy threw a muffin at her, which she deftly dodged. They grinned at each other. “So where are our stalwart males? Catching bad guys?”
Paige glanced back to the corner where her two ghosts had floated off and on most of the morning. “I hope so.”
“What?” Sammy leaned closer and whispered, “Did she contact you again?”
She looked at Sammy. “Honestly, another one did. Both have been floating around this morning.”
Sammy frowned and glanced around. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“When? We’ve been slammed.”
“Mike knows?”
“I texted him and he only said later, so I’m thinking they know.”
Both were silent for a minute.
“Another one is... another one? Like the last?”
She just stared at her friend and lowered her voice before she said on a sigh, “Another one as in a guy is out there killing women. He takes photos of them.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know if the ghosts know. Though, the first one mentioned once this was this was his creation or something. They have to be perfect, she said. Or something, I don’t know.”
“Have you asked her who is doing this?”
“Yes, Mom, I have and she doesn’t know. I think they do more feeling than anything, if that makes sense. I’ve noticed when she gets snarky—the first one—you can see her more, or if she’s angry or just…I don’t know, feeling more, then she’s more solid.”
Sammy nodded. “So you’re communicating with her or them, and not blocking them. That’s really good, doll.”
She shrugged. “I guess. I just wish I could help them more and I’ve no idea how.”
“We could see if we can find anything out—“
“I mentioned that this morning to Mike and you’d have thought I told him I was going to try and be a CIA agent or something.”
“The boys would flip if they knew we were looking into who had killed this woman—women.”
Someone walked up and needed a refill so they waited until they were once again alone.
“Another one?” Sammy asked.
She loved her friend, honestly she did, but sometimes Sammy was a bit slow on the uptake. “Yes, Sammy, another one. He killed one and her ghost contacted me outside of the bakery a few days ago. Now there’s another one he left in a cemetery somewhere. I can’t see her as clearly as I did the first one, but I can still see her.”
“So piss her off so she can become more solid.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“Well, makes sense from what you said before.”
“You have a point.”
“What do you think the difference between them is?” Sammy asked her, pouring them both more coffee.
“I don’t know. I mean, they both seem single. I don’t know if they are, but neither of them have asked for me to contact anyone. And I would think there would be someone they might want me to contact to let know...”
“Let know what? It’s not like St. Cyr or Mike’ll let you talk to next of kin. You’ve been around my family long enough you know that.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t. But neither of them have said, ‘Hey, tell my sister I love her.’ Or, ‘Tell my parents, boyfriend, fiancé, or whatever.’ You know? I mean if you were a ghost and decided you needed to haunt me, what would you ask me or say to me?”
Sammy pulled her bottom lip in under her teeth. “I see what you mean. For me, it would be tell my parents and brothers I love them.”
“See. But these women haven’t.”
“Yeah, but maybe because their ends were so violent they can’t concentrate on anything other than that?”
“There’s a theory.”
>
“So what has the new floater said?”
“Floater?”
Sammy waved her hand towards the corner. “Don’t they, like, float above the ground, floor, or whatever? Or is that a lie?”
“Please don’t call them floaters. They might hear, and that’ll hurt their feelings.”
One brow rose. “Afterlife PC? Who knew? So what’s with the new…girl? Woman? Ghost? Previously living person of female origin?”
“We are best friends because I find you funny.”
“We’re best friends because we were meant to be best friends.” Sammy had often said that through the years. “So, new girl’s story?”
Paige glanced again to the back corner, but all that was there was the brick wall. “Not much of anything. She just asked where she was, why she was here. Then the first ghost popped up and told her she was probably dead and the second woman just started crying. That was as far as we got before I...”
“Shielded?”
For lack of a better word, she nodded. “Yeah and then we got slammed with another crowd. I did text Mike to let him know there was another one.”
“And?”
“And he said he’d talk to me later.”
“Yeah, he already knows,” Sammy said.
“Hey, where’s St. Louis Cemetery 2?” a customer asked.
They both turned to the guy, tall and lanky with glasses he pushed up his nose.
“You know, cher,” Sammy said to him, “you should join a tour group if you’re looking to tour the cemeteries. They’re not that safe anymore.”
“You think? Don’t know about the group, but I’m betting those tours are going to be booked solid for weeks.”
“Why?” she asked him.
“Didn’t you hear? A tour group found some woman dead in one this morning.”
“A woman?” Paige asked.
“Yeah,” the guy said.
“Please, sound more enthused. I’m sure her family is glad to provide the day’s entertainment,” Sammy snapped.
The man jerked back. “Sorry, just wanted to find out where it was and see if anyone had heard anything.”
Sammy took out her phone and snapped a photo of the guy before he moved. “Hey, what’d you do that for?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe I’ll show it to my brothers who are great at looking into people to see if they find it weird you’re so excited about a dead woman. Or better yet, I’ll post it to our fan page about how not to act in New Orleans.”
“Look, lady,” he started and then huffed off.
They watched him walk out of the bakery and onto the street tapping things into his cell phone. Probably walking directions to the cemetery.
“I’ll pass it on to you and you can give it to Mike.”
Paige shook her head. “Afraid of sending a text to the big bad St. Cyr.”
“No.”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s not it at—”
“Excuse me, can I have a refill?”
Again they turned and there was the dark-eyed man who couldn’t decide on tea.
“Sure, what can I get you?” Sammy asked him.
The man smiled at her. “Oh, she knows what I like,” he said, motioning to Paige.
Paige looked at him again, at his dark eyes and felt that tug again.
“Do I know you?” she asked him.
He smiled slightly at her. “Do I know you?”
“Seriously,” she said. “Have we met?”
He shook his head. “Met? No, I don’t think so.”
She swallowed and felt another chill as she got closer to him. “Been in before?”
“A few times,” he said. “Though I hardly ever stay. I’m always in a hurry.”
“I guess that’s it. Well, if you’d set your used cup over there,” she motioned to a station to drop off used dishes, “I’ll get you another cup of herbal tea.”
“On second thought,” he said, “I think I’ll just skip it. I’ve got a delivery to make anyway.”
“Okay,” she said. Then thought to add, “Well, have a nice day.”
“Oh, I will,” he said with another smile. They both watched him walk out of the bakery.
“Why didn’t you take a photo of that guy?” she asked Paige.
“I don’t know. Why would I need to?”
“I don’t know. Just a feeling. Like I know him, or should or something.”
Sammy motioned to the corner. “We can get the boys to check the cams.”
“Cams? What cams?”
Sammy winced. “Well, I was going to tell you, but knew you might kind of freak.”
“I don’t freak.”
“When it comes to issues of privacy you damned well do.”
Paige opened her mouth to argue.
“You do,” Sammy said, holding up a single finger. “And I get why. I do, but the boys made me.”
“You’re a grown woman with your own business, Sammy. They can’t make you do anything. No one can make you.”
Sammy snorted. “Uh-huh. And who caved the other morning when the boys threatened to call my family? La mia famiglia è la famiglia.”
“Your mother still scares me.”
“I think mothers are supposed to. You know how they are. I might be a grown woman,” she shrugged, “but it’s a family-owned business and my brothers are...”
“Family.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of overprotective. Of course as soon as they found the first woman St. Cyr mentioned we should get a security system with cams and I told him to forget it.”
“I see that worked.”
“No, not hardly. He then went and talked to the boys and they all showed up that afternoon with some equipment.”
“What afternoon? Doesn’t matter, and at least you know the equipment is installed correctly and that it’ll work great.”
“This is true, but still.”
“Should’ve argued harder at the time, Sammy-o,” she said.
“Like they would listen. If I didn’t let them, they’d just go to Mom and Pop and then do it anyway. Easier this way. Plus, I got to stand here and bitch at them for being so bossy and overprotective and just being them.”
“Sorry I missed it.”
“No, you’re not.” Sammy said and Paige grinned at her. “See, I knew it!”
“I shall remind you of this conversation when you and St. Cyr finally get busy and put the rest of us out of our misery.”
“Misery?”
“We get tired of listening to the two of you, even as entertaining as you are.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously. I’ll remind you.”
“So?”
“So what?” Paige asked her, taking an empty tray back to the kitchen to refill with more goodies. They were running low on some of the cupcakes.
“Leave it, it’s almost closing time anyway. And walking away doesn’t mean you’ll get out of answering my question.”
“What question?”
“Mike. You. You good with this?”
“I guess. Do I have a choice?”
Sammy sighed. “Of course, if you really hated it, we’d all know and he’d leave you alone. If you didn’t really want this with him, then why did you hang onto him for the last however long it’s been? Sort of a give away if you ask me.”
“But I didn’t, ask you.”
“You guys are good together. He honestly cares, Paige. About you. So yes, I’d like to know that you’re okay because, honey, he’s been okay with you two for months. You on the other hand think in terms of a commitment phobe.” Sammy said.
Paige thought about it and finally shrugged as she put the pan down on the counter. Sammy was right. Too close to closing. She looked at her friend. “We still have customers.”
“And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“What question?”
Sammy sighed. “Fine then, if you won’t talk about important stu
ff, then how was it?”
“For God’s sake, Sammy, we didn’t even come back to the bakery. We spent all afternoon and evening and night in bed. How the hell do you think it was?”
Sammy just stared at her, then grinned and finally laughed. “Well, when you put it that way, the question does seem rhetorical. And I agree with Mike. You two are good together.”
“Shut up.”
“Never, doll. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.”
“Mike manages that just fine.”
“And here I thought he kept you on your back most of the time.”
It was her turn to throw a muffin.
Chapter Seven
He waited, the light fading. He’d decided to use the evening twilight. It was perfect, gave a different glow to the area. Of course, this creation he’d taken to an old cemetery outside of the city. The funeral art here wasn’t as spectacular as some in the city, but there were a few mausoleums. He found he could take his time. He’d had to find a location that allowed him more time. So it had to have trees or some form of vegetation for him to hide. Great thing about these old small town cemeteries. They rarely had gates and if they did they weren’t the huge locking kind he found in the city.
The black-streaked white marble almost glowed in the fading light. The car he’d rented sat parked near the gates. He’d told someone who’d stopped earlier he was researching his family lineage, and wanted a bit of time to explore the cemetery. The elderly lady had been all too happy to help him. Good thing he’d been out here yesterday to find the grave he wanted to use.
His dolls deserved only the best.
Some might wonder at using his dolls in such a macabre setting, but he liked the paradox of the innocence and the darkness. He really liked that. He also liked the fact he could make them up to look like whatever he wanted. He spent a lot of time looking at doll magazines. This latest one was special. He’d dressed her as a Harvey Girl. The hair had taken him longer than he’d thought it would. Another reason he was using the evening rather than the early morning—which he honestly preferred. It gave him more time to set up if he got there in the dark. Now he was racing against the fading light, but as far as that went, this shoot had been good.
Well, after the busybody had left him to find his family graves and to explore the cemetery.