Stay Dead (Elise Sandburg series)

by Anne Frasier

“Maybe you should sit down,” Elise said.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t look okay.”

  “Didn’t you almost faint here once?” he asked.

  “That was you.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure it was you.”

  “And you threw up. Right over there.” She pointed to a curb and a grassy area.

  “Oh, right.” He collapsed in that very spot and rested his head between his knees while she leaned against the car and waited for him to recover.

  “I’m okay.” He took a deep breath and palmed his hair back from his forehead with both hands while tilting his face skyward. “You don’t have to babysit me. Go back in and watch the autopsy.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She would have added that he shouldn’t have come, but she didn’t want to imply that he couldn’t handle a basic part of his job. And she would have sat down beside him, but her ankle injury would make for some graceless maneuvering.

  Now that David’s complexion had improved, going from chalk white to eggshell, she asked, “What do you think? Was it Tremain?”

  David squinted his eyes against the sun. “How in the hell can a guy who was in a coma murder someone forty-eight hours later?”

  “We need to talk to a coma specialist, but I think it’s probably possible. If not, it means Tremain isn’t working alone, although I really had him pegged for a loner. But a partner would explain how he got out of the hospital and went into hiding so fast. If that’s the case, I don’t get why there was no one else on the surveillance tape.”

  “Did you ever have reason to think Tremain was working with someone when you were at his house?” David asked.

  She shook her head. “I never saw anyone else, and never heard him talking to anybody. But three days isn’t that long.” Not the eternity it seemed at the time. She extended her hand. David considered it a moment, grabbed it, and let her help him up.

  In the car, David drove while Elise called in the preliminary details to Major Hoffman.

  “I’ll hold off on the press conference until we have the autopsy report,” Hoffman said. “And we’ll need to fill in all officers with this new information. I’d really like to get a task force together, but unless I request help from the outside I’m not sure that’s going to happen. Quantico might send a couple of FBI agents, but quite frankly I think we can do just as well ourselves. Outsiders can sometimes drop in and slow down an investigation. Gould is ex-FBI, and you know the killer as well as anybody, but I’ll keep you in the loop if anybody decides to drop in and surprise us. In the meantime, I’m scheduling a debriefing. I’ll get back to you with a time.”

  Elise spotted a parking spot in front of a deli on Oglethorpe and motioned for David to pull over. It was easy to forget about food when immersed in a case, but the awning and neon “Open” sign reminded her they’d hardly eaten anything that day. Not missing a beat, David whipped the car into the empty space and cut the engine.

  “We’re stopping for lunch, then doing some fieldwork,” Elise told Major Hoffman. “I’ll let you know if anything new comes up.” They ended the call.

  Elise and David ate sandwiches in the privacy of the car while putting together a game plan for the rest of the day. By the time David gathered up the wrappers and tossed them into a nearby trash container, his color looked almost normal.

  Their first stop was a head shop on Drayton that sold tattoo guns, needles, and ink.

  “Oh, yeah,” said the guy behind the glass counter. He passed the color photo of Tremain back to Elise. “I know him. Well, I don’t know him, but he used to come in here sometimes. Bought an ink gun that was pretty damn nice. Not one I could afford to carry in the shop, so I special-ordered it for him. He had some major skills, that guy. And what was weird is that he was kind of a geek, and he didn’t have any visible tattoos. I’ve never seen a tattoo artist without tattoos, know what I mean?”

  “Did he ever talk about himself? As in places where he might hang out, things he might do?” David asked.

  The guy thought a few moments. “No, not that I remember. And it’s been maybe a year since he was here. Used to come all the time, then he stopped. I kinda wondered what happened to him. Never would have guessed he was doing such crazy shit.” He looked at Elise. “Hey, you’re the chick he abducted, right?”

  She wasn’t going to get out of this one. “Yeah.”

  “I’m glad you got away. Saw it on the news. Recognized Tremain right off. Had to call my buddies. We couldn’t believe it. He seemed like an all-right guy.”

  “Don’t they all,” David said. “Thanks.” He pulled out his card and gave the shop owner his usual spiel. Call if you think of anything.

  And then they were off to the next place on their list.

  An hour later, they’d hit two shops that sold herbs for root work and spells. Nobody had ever seen or heard of Tremain.

  “Either they’re lying or he’s too big for the small shops here,” Elise said, once they were back in the car. “And honestly, a real root doctor wouldn’t go to a shop in Savannah to buy supplies. These places are geared to tourists, not professionals.”

  “What about Strata Luna?” David said. “I know how you feel about her right now, but she has connections. Underground connections, I’d guess. And she likes you.”

  Elise’s phone buzzed, indicating a text message. She checked the screen: Audrey.

  I’m coming home.

  Elise replied: No you aren’t. Don’t argue, Audrey.

  “Something wrong?” David asked.

  “Audrey. She says she’s coming home.”

  Another text: I want to be there with you. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m too distracted.

  Elise replied: You’re safe there. You wouldn’t be safe here.

  I don’t care. I’m coming home.

  No you aren’t. I plan to call your host mother later today. I’m sure she’ll agree that you should stay.

  No response. Disconnect.

  Elise shook her head. “She’s so stubborn.”

  “Wonder where she gets that.”

  She shot him an annoyed look, and since it appeared that Audrey had once again gone off in a huff, Elise put in a call to Strata Luna.

  “Come right over,” the Gullah woman said. “I’ll have tea ready.” She sounded quite pleased, and Elise suspected she wanted to follow up on her little matchmaking endeavor.

  CHAPTER 31

  Sitting in the courtyard of Strata Luna’s house on the edge of the Victorian District, one could almost forget the rest of the world existed, and almost forget that bad things were happening not that far beyond the iron gates that had closed behind Elise and David’s car when they’d pulled in fifteen minutes earlier. The sky was blue, Strata Luna’s house was pink, and the camellias and Christmas roses were blooming. Not far off, the sounds of a fountain added to the overall sensory experience.

  But like everything in Savannah, if you dug deep enough . . . The fountain that sounded so wonderful was the very fountain Strata Luna’s daughter had drowned in years ago. And the beautiful pink mansion with black shutters had once been a morgue and still held many secrets, secrets that had almost killed David.

  As Elise sipped her tea, she was aware of a softening in the woman sitting at the small bistro table with them. And maybe a complacent sorrow. Strata Luna still gave off a sense of power and a sense of mystery, but there seemed to be an acceptance of her life and all that had happened to her that hadn’t been there before.

  Did the older woman have any friends? Real friends? Because Elise was pretty sure she didn’t have any family left. There was the new “houseboy” who’d answered their knock. The young men were almost interchangeable. The last one had been beautiful and sweet, with luminous brown skin and a charming smile. Enrique. Gone now.

  Strata Luna had mourned hi
m, but he hadn’t been her equal. She claimed no man was her equal, but Elise often wondered what would have happened if she and Jackson Sweet had stayed together. They would have made a powerful pair.

  Right now Strata Luna was looking at the detectives over the rim of her dainty floral teacup, a smile on her lips and a smile in her eyes. Here we go, Elise thought. Beside her, David shifted uncomfortably, and raised his own dainty cup to his mouth.

  “So,” Strata Luna began. “How are you two doing?”

  Elise had never seen her in anything but a voluminous dress that swathed her in black from chin to toe. But she had to wear something else at night, didn’t she? Yet it was hard to imagine her in anything but the outfit before them.

  Her voice was almost as deep as a man’s, and intoxicatingly smooth and soothing. Elise could swear that the tone of it did something to her brain, made her limbs go weak, made her body relax.

  David must have been experiencing the same sensation, because he shifted in his chair until he was practically lying down, his dark sunglasses resting on top of his head, jacket tossed aside as he soaked up the afternoon sun. “These cookies are great,” he said.

  “Javier makes them. Out of freshly squeezed limes. He’s a treasure.”

  “A man who can bake,” Elise said.

  “He can do anything. I mean anything.” Strata Luna smiled in innuendo.

  David made a choking sound and attacked his tea again.

  “But really,” Strata Luna said. “What’s going on with you two? I mean, are you . . . together?”

  Elise had hoped to avoid the whole love-spell thing. “Detective Gould and I aren’t a couple,” Elise said. “We’ve never been a couple, and we will never be a couple. And I have to tell you since you brought it up, I don’t appreciate your giving him a mojo.” She glanced at David, who was staring into his cup with the intensity of a tea-leaf reader, his face flushed. “He doesn’t understand”—Elise corrected herself—“he doesn’t believe in such things.”

  “He doesn’t need to believe.”

  “That’s the problem. He doesn’t realize what he’s dealing with.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” David said, pulling his sunglasses off his head and covering his eyes.

  “So you tried it.” Strata Luna smiled. “And?”

  “He put it under his pillow.”

  “I’ll just leave,” David said. “You two can talk girl talk.”

  “Stay. It doesn’t matter.” Elise glanced at him before turning her attention back to the older woman. “It did what it was supposed to do, but I discovered it in time.”

  “That’s too bad,” Strata Luna said.

  Elise put down her cup, crashing it against the saucer. “No, it’s not.” They weren’t here to talk about David and his silly mojo. “Let’s forget about that.”

  David returned his sunglasses to his head. “Let’s.”

  “We’re here because of the Tremain case,” Elise explained. “I’m sure you heard he escaped. Well, two hours ago a child’s body was found mutilated.”

  “And we have reason to believe it was done by Tremain,” David added.

  “What we’re about to tell you hasn’t been made public.” Elise leaned forward. “And we want you to keep it confidential.”

  Strata Luna nodded. “Poor child. Poor, poor child.” Her eyes got a faraway look, and Elise knew she was thinking of her own baby, the girl who’d died just yards from where they sat. And David. The two of them had forged an unspoken bond, both having lost children in a water death. And now this boy, also found in the water. Elise hated that she was constantly reminding them of a past they tried to put behind them on a daily basis. But a parent never forgot that kind of thing. It wasn’t possible.

  As Elise focused on the reminders of their loss, David picked up the thread of the conversation she’d started. That’s how it was with them. She would start; he would finish. Or the other way around. They were like a couple. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t deny it. But it was common for detectives to form twin-like relationships. Sometimes detectives knew each other better than they knew their own spouses. And it felt as if she’d known David forever, but two was ten in cop years.

  “We have reason to think that the murders aren’t just random serial killings,” David said.

  “It’s the body parts, isn’t it?” Strata Luna asked.

  David did a little double take of surprise. “Yeah.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I think someone might be selling them for root work or spells,” Elise said.

  “We’ve been to the shops in town, but that was a dead end. Do you know anything that might help us track down the person or persons Tremain might be supplying?”

  “I want to help in any way I can. Children shouldn’t die. Children shouldn’t be murdered. If you hadn’t come to me, I would have come to you. This has to stop. The problem is that the shops you visited don’t sell real ingredients. Some of the potions might have some results, but most are just play powders wrapped in interesting packages. Those people aren’t going to deal in the darker herbs. What you’re talking about is black market. Those people don’t leave trails. The person in charge might not even live in the United States, but I have some people I’ll contact. See if they’ve heard anything.”

  “Thanks,” Elise said.

  Strata Luna took a bite of lime cookie, then wiped the powdered sugar from her lips with one long-nailed finger. “You should stay with me.”

  Elise and David looked at each other, trying unsuccessfully to hide their surprise.

  “I mean it.” She put the unfinished cookie aside, and brushed her hands together. “My house has a ten-thousand-dollar security system. Nobody can get in or out without triggering alarms.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Elise said. “I really do—”

  “It’s not safe for you out there, Elise. Not with this Tremain man on the loose. You should have killed him while he was in the hospital. I thought of doing it myself, but I knew I couldn’t get in and out undetected. You two, on the other hand, could have easily ended his life without suspicion.”

  “We can’t really do that kind of thing,” David said. “We’re cops.”

  She made a familiar sweeping-hand gesture, combined with a scornful sound of disagreement. “Foolish laws. You can’t always pay attention to these things. Not when lives are at stake. And now a child is dead.”

  Neither Elise nor David had an answer to that, especially since they’d both considered the very thing she was talking about. Elise regretted not ending Tremain’s life when she had the chance, and she suspected David felt the same way. A child was lying in the morgue right now because of that decision.

  “Think about my invitation,” Strata Luna said. “Try to talk her into it, David. You know I’ll take care of her. I can even put a no-harm spell around the house, and at night she can sleep with a mojo under her pillow and Javier outside the door.”

  David got to his feet, shrugged into his jacket, and pulled his sunglasses back down. “Thanks, but I think we’ve had enough spells.”

  “Staying at Strata Luna’s might not be a bad idea,” David said as they drove back to headquarters. “I think you’d be safe there.”

  “That would be a nice addition to my already freakish résumé. A homicide detective staying with a madam.”

  “I don’t think of her that way.”

  “How do you think of her?”

  “As a businesswoman.” David stopped the car at a red light. “And you have the Black Tupelo art on your back, so you must feel something for her, and must trust her to some extent.”

  “I trust her, but I don’t want to stay at her place. And I don’t want to stay at your place.”

  Elise was thinking of Anastasia, alone at the plantation. If Tremain somehow tracked Elise there, th
en Anastasia could be in danger. She needed to go back to the plantation and talk to her aunt. The situation was more than Elise could deal with right now and definitely something for the back burner, but she had to figure out what to do with Anastasia in the meantime.

  “Tremain isn’t some kind of mastermind,” Elise said, organizing her thoughts and putting a plan into motion. “He’s just a psychopath with an obsession. In some ways, I think the plantation might be the best place for me to stay, but I’m not a fool. I don’t want to leave Audrey without a mother, so I’m going to drive out and pick up my things.”

  The light turned green. David drove through the intersection, then made a left turn. “What if I stay there with you?”

  “No.” Her reply was a little too fast and emphatic. She wished she could tell him about Anastasia. Maybe she should, except that she’d promised to give her aunt some time. And she wanted Anastasia to come forward on her own. If she didn’t, Elise would have to do what she had to do. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be gone an hour, tops.”

  “I want you to come back to my place.”

  “There’s no guarantee I’ll be any safer there.”

  “Oh, man. That hurts.”

  “Nothing personal. Your building is old. Filled with transients. Windows that aren’t secure. Doors that could easily be kicked in. That’s all I meant.”

  “No place will be one hundred percent. But two detectives in the same space? That gives you better odds. That’s all I’m sayin’. Let me know what you decide. My place. Strata Luna’s. Headquarters—for real, this time. But not the plantation.”

  And speaking of headquarters . . .

  David parked the car in the lot off Liberty, and they walked through Colonial Park Cemetery to the police station.

  “Is your report ready?” Major Hoffman asked, when Elise stopped by her office.

  “Almost.”

  “Get it done, because your debriefing is scheduled for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  “It’ll be ready.” But would she? Elise dismissed herself and headed for her car while David and Major Hoffman prepped for the press conference. Thankfully they’d decided she should avoid it.