Jonas straightened. “Yes. All right. I’ll give Hal a call. I’ll get him moving. And I’ll start looking into it, too.” He reached for the backpack.
“I’ll take it over. You just call and let him know that I’m coming. And do me another favor.”
“Of course.”
“Call that M.E. Jon Abel. If he doesn’t want to work on this, tell him to hand those bones over to someone who isn’t as famous but actually wants to work.”
“Yeah, of course.” He hesitated, then said, “Listen, Aidan, you’re not going to say anything to Matty, are you?”
“What the hell would I say to her, Jonas? Confessing to your wife is your job.”
Physical activity was always good, Kendall decided. By the time Mason returned from his extended lunch, she’d opened all the boxes, and finished restocking and redecorating the store. One customer had come in to have her tea leaves read and been so disappointed that Kendall was the only one in the store that Kendall had relented and done the reading at one of the little café tables in the main room.
The tea leaves had been tea leaves, and she’d felt ridiculously relieved. Still, the first thing she asked Mason when he walked in was what had happened to the dolls.
“What dolls?” he asked.
“The voodoo dolls. We’re missing three of them,” she told him.
“No, we’re not.”
“We are.”
He looked at the shelf, then stared at her as if she were crazy.
“I just put those up there. There were only two left, and there should have been five.”
“Oh, yeah. I sold three of them yesterday afternoon.”
“To who?”
“Some woman in a scarf.”
“What was her name?”
“I don’t know,” Mason said impatiently. “I don’t give all our customers the third degree, you know. Neither do you!”
“Did she pay with a credit card?”
“No, she had cash.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “She was really weird, come to think of it. Even for New Orleans. I thought she might be part of one of those silly vampire cults. She was wearing big dark glasses and a black cloak, with a big black scarf over her head. She had a wheezy voice, like she had a cold or something. I tried not to touch her, in case she was contagious.” He shivered, grinned, and said, “I was afraid to let her touch the dolls, but she wanted three of them. I told her they were expensive, and she just produced a roll of cash, so I sold them to her. This is a business, after all. And you’ve got to admit, we’ve sold things to creepy people before.”
Creepy people.
But could the dolls he had sold be the same dolls Zach had found? Wouldn’t it be just great if Aidan decided she had arranged for someone—Vinnie, maybe—to turn the dolls into some kind of death caricatures and leave them on his lawn?
No. The Flynns were too smart for that, and Aidan knew her too well now to think something so stupid. Didn’t he?
Yeah, he knew she believed the Death card had come to life.
“You know, I wondered if she had a skin disease or something,” Mason said thoughtfully.
“Why?”
“She wore black gloves, too.”
He looked at her, his frown deepening when he saw the worried look on her face. “Okay, so I sold the dolls to a weirdo. Big deal. What the hell is the matter with you?”
“The Flynns found three of these voodoo dolls on their front lawn this morning. I guess they were pretty messed up. Like three death warnings.”
Mason laughed. “And you’re worried?” he asked her.
“Well…”
“Only an idiot would think the Flynns could be scared off by dolls.”
That was true, she knew.
Still, the whole thing was unsettling. She decided she should call Aidan and let him know what had happened. She picked up the phone, then she set it back down.
She didn’t have his number.
“What are you doing now?” Mason asked her.
“I was going to call Aidan, and tell him about the sale and your weird woman.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know his number.”
“That’s easily solved.”
“How?”
“Call Vinnie, get Jeremy’s number, and Jeremy will know Aidan’s,” Mason said. “Heck, I’ll do it for you.”
He picked up the phone, then looked at her thoughtfully when he finished dialing.
“What?”
“Do you think the woman who bought those dolls was wearing a costume?” he asked. She didn’t get a chance to answer. “Hey, Vinnie, can you give me Jeremy Flynn’s number?” After a moment, “Yeah, it’s for Kendall. She wants to call Aidan.”
She could hear Vinnie talking on the other end of the line, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Finally Mason scratched a number on a piece of paper and hung up, grinning.
“Oh, God, what? Did Aidan give him a hard time?”
“No. He’s all excited. He said he was helping investigate.”
She arched a brow distrustfully. “Vinnie is excited?”
“Yup. He said he and Aidan are tracking down that girl, Jenny Trent, together.”
“Where’s Aidan now?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to call Vinnie back?”
“No.” She took the phone from him and dialed the number he had gotten from Vinnie.
“Oh, that’s Aidan’s number, by the way, not Jeremy’s. Sounds like those two are just like this now,” he said, crossing two fingers.
Was Aidan playing Vinnie? she wondered. Lulling him into a false sense of security? Or had he decided her friend was innocent?
Aidan answered his phone immediately.
“Flynn.”
“Aidan?”
“Kendall.”
That was it. Just her name. But he had said it as if he enjoyed it.
“I’m calling about those dolls on your lawn, Aidan. I think they came from my shop. Mason told me that he sold three of them yesterday.” She glanced at Mason. “To a—”
Mason grabbed the phone from her. “Hey, Aidan. It was some freaky woman dressed all in black. Looking back, I think someone was disguising her—or his—identity.”
Mason listened and nodded, then hung up the phone.
Kendall stared at him. “Hey! I was talking.”
“He’s busy. Said he’ll call back.” Mason shrugged, then started wiping down the counter and straightening the napkins.
Kendall tried not to feel anxious.
And she tried even harder to convince herself that she didn’t care one way or another what Aidan Flynn really thought of her.
Jonas called both Hal Vincent and Jon Abel, then rang Aidan to fill him in, so Aidan made his first stop the M.E.’s office. To his surprise, Jon Abel came out to see him right away. He wasn’t exactly cordial, but he was at least polite. Aidan offered him the dress that Vinnie had identified as the one Jenny Trent had worn on what had possibly been her last night on earth. “You have bones—from two different women, you’ve told me—and you have the blood sample I brought you, and I believe your technicians might be able to pull skin cells from the lining of this dress, which belonged to a woman named Jenny Trent. I’m hoping that if you run DNA testing on all those items we’ll be able to find out if one of those bones was hers.”
“I can try,” Abel told him, looking down at the dress. “I can try. The blood sample is extremely deteriorated. I don’t know about the bones. And they may be able to find sloughed-off skin cells. I’ll try. I can’t promise you anything more than that.”
“We have a girl who definitely disappeared from the French Quarter. She had family, and that family deserves our best,” Aidan said.
“I told you, we’ll do what we can,” Abel told him.
Aidan didn’t know why he didn’t offer Abel the brush, or why he didn’t intend to turn it over to Hal Vincent, either. If DNA couldn’t be pulled from the bones or the blood
, the DNA they could pull from any hairs in the brush wouldn’t be much good anyway.
He thanked the M.E. and left.
At the police station, Hal Vincent came out to see him. It was hard to read what the man was thinking, but when he brought Aidan back to his office, Aidan gave him the backpack, complete with Jenny Trent’s passport, and told him everything he’d discovered so far.
“I’ll bring Vinnie down here and talk to him,” Hal said.
Aidan thought for a moment, then surprised himself by saying, “I think Vinnie is telling the truth when he said he left her at her door. I don’t think he did it.”
“Yeah?” Hal asked, looking up at him.
“You learn to read a man,” Aidan said.
Hal looked quickly down at the backpack. “Sure. Sometimes. If you know for a fact that this girl disappeared from here, I’ll see to it that some of our best officers are assigned to the case.”
Aidan leaned forward. “What about her car?”
“Her car?”
“It was found in a public lot,” Aidan said.
Hal Vincent stroked his chin. “Was it? Well, I’ll find out if it’s still impounded or what.” He looked at Aidan. “What’s your stake in this?”
“I’ve been hired by the next of kin.”
Hal sat back, a touch of resentment in his expression. “Oh, yeah? How did you manage that?”
“Easy. I asked a question.” Aidan rose. “Thanks for your help.”
“It’s my job,” the detective said, and there was a touch of steel in his tone. “Thanks for your help.”
“Yeah, I’ll be touching base,” Aidan said pleasantly, then rose and left the office. He could feel Hal’s eyes on him through the window as he exited the station.
It was close to six when the shop phone rang. Trying not to appear as anxious as she felt, Kendall moved to answer it, but Mason reached it before she did. There was pure mischief in his eyes as he answered it, talking pleasantly to whoever was on the other end.
She sighed in exasperation, and finally he handed the receiver to her.
“It’s for you.”
“Gee, thanks.” She put the receiver to her ear and said, “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Aidan.”
“Hey.” She hesitated, then tried for a joking tone. “I hear you saw Vinnie and you didn’t send him straight to jail.”
“Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “You all right?”
“Of course,” she told him.
“I’m heading back out to the plantation. I’ve decided to sleep out there tonight.”
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s good. I mean, you’ll be there if anyone tries to play another prank.” At least it didn’t sound like he thought she was guilty of anything.
He was silent for so long that she was beginning to think she’d lost the connection, but finally he spoke again, “Kendall, this might sound like a strange request, but…don’t go out tonight, huh? Go home, lock yourself in and just take it easy. Don’t go chasing around after any errant tourists, okay?” The last was said with an effort at lightness.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing new. But just stay home, will you?”
“All right,” she agreed, wondering why he sounded so adamant about it. Was he worried about her for some reason? Or just afraid she’d hook up with some other guy? They weren’t going steady or anything, and what kind of woman did he think she was, anyway?
But deep down she knew his caution had nothing to do with the fact he’d slept with her. Something was bothering him, and that bothered her. She didn’t like this new feeling of nervousness. This was her city. She loved it. She hated having to feel afraid of it.
“Call me if…well, for any reason,” he told her.
“I will,” she said.
Then he spoke again, somewhat awkwardly. “You’ve heard about that charity thing Jeremy’s been promoting at the aquarium Saturday night, right?”
“Of course.”
“Would you mind going with me?”
She was surprised. Was he asking her on a date? Or did he just not want to show up solo?
Did it matter?
“Sure. I’d been thinking I should spring for a ticket. It’s a good cause.”
“I’ve got plenty of tickets. We bought about twenty, just to kick it off.” He was quiet again for a long moment. “You can bring friends, if you want.”
Okay, so it wasn’t a date. Maybe he was hoping she’d bring Vinnie, so he could keep an eye on him.
Then again, on a Saturday night, Vinnie would be working.
Oh, hell, she couldn’t read signals over the phone. And maybe there weren’t even any signals to read.
“That sounds great. I’ll let people know. I would have loved to bring my friend Sheila, but she isn’t back from vacation yet.” She winced inwardly. Sheila was out of town. She had to be.
“See if Mason wants to come. And if he can take the night off, ask Vinnie.”
So he did want to keep an eye on Vinnie. “Okay,” she said, feeling ridiculously disappointed.
“I’ll talk to you soon, then,” he said.
“Sure. Bye.”
He didn’t say goodbye, just hung up. She set the phone back into the cradle.
“Can we close up now?” Mason asked.
“Of course.”
He walked over and set an arm around her shoulders. “Want to come out and play with me, little girl?”
“Are you heading out to the Hideaway again?” she asked.
He shrugged. “When you find a place you like, why change? Hell, I don’t even have a cat to go home to.”
“And you think you’re going to find the love of your life in a bar?”
“Maybe not. But I’m easy. I’m happy with a halfway decent-looking girl who’s just looking for some hot and heavy sex for the night,” he teased.
“Gee, forgive me. I’ll pass. I’m going to stop off on the way home and get something to eat, then enjoy some deliciously bad television and get some sleep.”
They locked up and parted ways. She headed for home, and he went on toward Bourbon Street.
Aidan had packed his bags and checked out of his hotel, thinking he might as well start living at the property while it was under repair. At first he’d thought that they would be knocking down walls, and that there would be no water or electricity. But with nothing major going on structurally, there was no reason to go on paying for a hotel when he could stay in comfort in the master bedroom. There was no cable, so Zach was still going back to the city every night so he could continue his Web investigations, and Jeremy had also opted to keep on staying in town. But Aidan felt like something quieter, and he had a flashlight in case the electricity failed while the place was still being rewired, so what the hell.
He arrived when the sun was setting, and despite all the wheelbarrows, cement bags and other paraphernalia left on the grounds, the house was beautiful on its little rise above the river. The dying sunlight hid the chipping paint, and the spots where the stucco and plaster had recently been repaired. She looked like the grand old dame that she was.
He parked in the graveled driveway and walked around the outside of the house. The workers were thorough; the windows and doors had all been locked at the end of the day.
He was about to take his key and open the front door when he looked across the grounds and through the trees to the burial ground.
With dusk at hand, there was something fascinating and forlorn about it. Rather than enter the house, he found himself walking toward the cemetery.
The family had planned it as a pleasant oasis. The trees were like a barrier—holding the living out or keeping the dead in—but it was the kind of barrier that defined the space attractively. As he entered the graveyard, though, he could sense that it was a place of loneliness and neglect. There were stones and slabs that were now illegible, and even many of the more recent aboveground tombs bore legends that had been erased by the w
ear and tear of time.
Tall grass, wildflowers and weeds grew at will, and the moss-draped trees added a bittersweet pathos to the scene. He judged the distance from the graveyard to the house, and from the graveyard to the outbuildings.
The river ran downhill from the rear of the house, past the parallel rows of trees that had once led to a magnificent rear entrance. At one time it might even have been considered the main entrance, since most visitors would have come from the river. The house sat well up on its little hill, and all the ground around it, including the cemetery, rolled toward the river.
It wasn’t that unlikely that a storm could have moved earth, branches, refuse and even human bones from the graveyard toward the river—right past the slave quarters and other outbuildings.
Aidan sat on one of the aboveground tombs, surveying the realm of the dead. Looking around, he found himself studying the ground.
It just didn’t look as if any of the graves here had been disturbed. Of course, maybe a grave had been disturbed during Katrina, and then new winds and rains had covered up what had been compromised before.
Still…
He looked toward the largest of the family vaults, then got up, strode over to it and walked in. He looked at the fresh engraving that identified the final resting place of Amelia Jeanine Flynn. He touched the stone. “You must have been quite a woman,” he said. “If Kendall felt so devoted to you…well, I wish I could have known you.”
He realized he’d spoken aloud and shook his head with amusement. At least he was alone in a family graveyard surrounded by fifteen mostly empty acres. There wasn’t even a car passing by out on the road.
He went back outside and looked around the graveyard some more, trying to ascertain why something just didn’t seem right. No matter how hard he looked, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
It was dark when he left the cemetery, swinging the gate closed behind him. It made no noise. Someone had oiled it, and not long ago, either. He turned to look back at the graves.
Darkness had fallen, and there was only enough moonlight to offer a trickle of illumination.
Still certain he was looking right at something and not seeing it, Aidan headed back for the house. He unlocked the door and went in, and turned on a few lights, then headed for the kitchen. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that one of his brothers had gone shopping. The refrigerator offered the basics: soda, water, beer, condiments, cheese and sandwich meat. There was bread on the counter. He made himself a sandwich, then went back out to the car and brought in his bags.
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