by C. J. Parker
“You’re coming with me, witch.” His voice held a low rumble of hatred. She snaked out her hand, swiped at the mask and pulled it free. “Hello, Frank.”
He tried to snatch the mask away from her but she tossed it aside. “It’ll do you no good. You’re not going to live long enough to tell anyone.” He clutched her arm in a painful grip and pressed the tip of the blade to her throat. “Make a noise, and I’ll kill you where you stand. Come on.”
She let her knees buckle and rolled her eyes under their lids as if she were about to faint, then kicked him soundly between the legs.
He grunted, grabbed his groin and sunk to the ground.
She drew back a few steps and looked down at him. “I don’t think going with you is quite what I had in mind, Frank.”
“What’s going on over there?” a uniformed cop yelled from the station house steps. “You need help, ma’am?”
“I think I have everything under control, officer. Can you tell Detective Bainbridge I’d like to talk to him? He’s inside.”
The policeman hooked his thumb toward the door. “He’s on his way out now. I’ll send him right over.”
Frank swore under his breath and quickly tossed the knife into a nearby Jeep. “Stay away from Derek, bitch. You’re a walking corpse. Don’t take him down with you.”
The threat hit like a sucker punch to her gut. “I’d save my energy for things like standing up straight if I were you.”
“Just remember, if I don’t get you, someone else will.” He leaned against the wall of the station house. With a few deep breaths, he managed to paste a smile on his face.
Derek sidled up to Tabatha, twined his fingers with hers and looked at Frank. “What’s going on? You’re looking kind of flushed, buddy.”
Frank shook his head. “Nothing. Came to look at some files and saw Tabatha standing out here. Not safe for a woman out alone these days, even on police property. Never know what could happen.”
Tabatha grinned, all the while gritting her teeth. “Never know what could happen to a man who picks on the wrong woman, either.”
“Was he harassing you, Tabatha?” Derek glared at Frank.
Her gaze drifted toward Frank, and she saw defiance in his eyes. She smiled. “No more than a pesky mosquito. If he gets too close, I’ll just swat him away.”
“I’ve been swatted by bigger and much better.” He pulled himself away from the wall, wincing in pain. “Here kinda late, ain’t you, Bainbridge? They find the kid?”
“No. Not yet. I was speaking with Mason about the case and the men who’ll be working it with me.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that again.” Frank took a step forward but stopped with a grimace of what Tabatha hoped was pain. “You’ve got to get me back in. This is my case as much as it’s yours. Insist that Mason put me back on. We’re a team, Bainbridge.”
“I can’t insist anything, Frank. Mason said he couldn’t afford to have both of us tied up on the Voodoo Killer.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Dammit, it’s out of my hands.”
Frank’s fist connected with Derek’s chin, knocking him to the asphalt. Shaking his fist under Derek’s nose, Frank snarled. “Detective Bainbridge, the big hero. You’re always hogging all the glory. It’s my case, you son-of-a-bitch. I won’t let you take it away from me.”
Tabatha gasped and stumbled backward. She hadn’t been expecting Frank’s reaction, but in truth, shouldn’t have been surprised. As she righted herself, she noticed a folder on the front seat of the Jeep. She quickly averted her eyes to keep from attracting Frank’s attention.
His attack didn’t keep Derek down for long. He jumped up and moved toward Frank, fire in his eyes. “I’ve put up with your ego and bad temper all our lives. No more. Stay away from Tabatha. While you’re at it, stay away from me. I’ve had enough.”
Frank’s back was to her, so Tabatha glanced at the folder again. An embossed, unconventional crucifix decorated the cover. Instead of the usual cross, Jesus hung with hands over head, nailed to a stake. Circling the crucifix, mother-of-pearl lettering read Guardians Against Paranormal Sinners and stood out in stark relief against the blood red background.
Tabatha’s breath caught. Disappointment in Frank flooded over her, then shame for jumping to conclusions. He could be innocent of everything but bad judgment. No. She shook her head. The hood was the same as in the video. If not involved with the Guardians, where did he get that? And an innocent person wouldn’t attack a woman with a knife.
“Only the very best for you,” Frank roared. “Elizabeth couldn’t see past your charm. She would have been happier with me. But we both lost her, didn’t we? I got over her and went on with my life. You play the long-suffering lover. I’m sick of it.”
Derek shoved Frank against the wall. “Leave Elizabeth out of this. She warned me about you, Frank. Said you weren’t the friend you pretended to be. I guess she was right.”
Taking advantage of the commotion, Tabatha grabbed the folder and dropped it into her bag. She spotted Mason coming toward them, and spoke over her shoulder to the arguing men. “You boys better call an end to this.” Hoping to keep Mason’s attention averted from Derek and Frank she yelled, “Lieutenant Mason, can I speak to you a moment?”
“A pretty woman can talk to me any time.” He grinned. “What can I do for you?”
“I hope I didn’t get Detective Bainbridge in trouble. I’d read about the case in the newspaper and mentioned it to him. I thought I could be of help. I wasn’t thinking straight, I guess. I’m sure you have your own profiler. I didn’t mean to step on any toes.”
“Ma’am?”
“Tabatha,” she reminded him.
“Tabatha. I’m not going to turn down help. Bainbridge should have talked to me first, but I did tell him he had free rein over the case.”
“Tabatha,” Derek called. “Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Thank you again, Lieutenant. I hope you find your killer soon.”
Mason walked at her side, continuing to talk. “Do you have any other ideas? Something that might give us more of a clue.”
“I’ll work on it tonight. Maybe I can come up with something else.” Frank’s face twisted with rage. “You’re letting her work the case? She’s a goddamned witch, Lieutenant. She talks to the dead.”
Mason glanced at Derek, raising one inquisitive eyebrow. “Like a medium?” He shook his head. “Frank, you need a vacation.”
“No, I need you to give me my case back. I’ve been working on the Voodoo Killer since the beginning. It’s mine.”
Mason’s expression hardened. “I dole out the cases around here. Me, not you.”
Tabatha rolled her neck and closed her eyes as the first whispering of a child’s voice seeped into her mind. She relaxed, lowered her barriers and listened, hoping she was wrong and would find welcome silence instead. Tabatha clasped her hands over her ears and gasped. Missy’s cry of sheer terror gripped at her soul.
“Tabatha?” She didn’t know when Derek had moved close enough to cup her face with his hands. “What is it?”
She looked up at him, tears stinging her eyes. “She’s killed her.”
“Who killed…” Mason stopped mid-question. “What’s she talking about?”
“Our Voodoo Killer has killed again,” Derek’s voice was heavy with fatigue.
Mason’s confusion was mirrored on his face. “What makes her think she’s killed Missy?”
Derek shook his head slowly, his face a mask of resignation. “She doesn’t think she’s dead. She knows it.”
Frank grabbed Mason’s shirt, his face aglow with delight. “See I told you. She’s a witch. The dead talk to her.”
Tabatha watched the Lieutenant’s knuckles turn white as he squeezed Frank’s hands, dislodging them. “I don’t give a damn if she grows fangs and sprouts bat wings. If she can stop any more kids from being killed, I’ll listen to anything she has to say. Go home, Frank.” He returned his un
divided attention to Tabatha. “Let’s go back inside. I have a few more questions.”
“I have a better idea.” She inhaled several times, hoping to stop the quiver in her voice. “Why don’t you come to the house? We can talk there without worrying about anyone eavesdropping.” She glanced at Frank. “I have a lot to say, and I don’t want the world listening.”
“Okay.” Mason ran his hand over his stomach. “I’ll follow you over. But could we stop off for some burgers or something. I’m starving.”
Derek grunted. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Bertha would be fit-to-be-tied if you brought burgers into her kitchen.”
“I’m sure there’s a hot meal waiting for us.” Tabatha tried to calm her shaking fingers as she retrieved her cell phone and dialed home. “Bertha, one more for dinner. We’ll be home in about half an hour.”
She paused, listening. “When?” Again a moment of silence surrounded them. “Damn. Is Shane there?” She sighed. “We’ll be there in fifteen.”
“What’s wrong?” Derek leaned in closer as she disconnected.
Tabatha ran her index finger over her right eyebrow. “Rhonda left two hours ago, saying she’d be back in about thirty minutes. She’s still not home.”
“Shane?” Derek slipped the keys into the ignition.
“Bertha has him.” She tossed the phone into her bag.
Frank’s chuckle drew their attention. But his humor was short-lived as Tabatha’s fist cold-cocked him, knocking him to the ground. She shoved her foot against his throat.
“Where is she? Where do they have her? I swear, if they do anything to her, you’ll be the first I come looking for.”
“Fuck you.”
As if by magic Frank vanished from under her foot. When she looked around to find him, Mason had lifted him up by the neck, feet dangling off the ground, and was shaking him like a rag doll.
“She asked you a perfectly polite question.” Mason’s calm voice didn’t correspond with the fury on his face. “I expect a perfectly polite answer. What’s going on? Who has whom? And where.”
“Give me back my case,” Frank croaked. His face grew bluer by the second.
Mason released him and stepped back.
Frank dropped to his knees, gasping for air. “I’ll have your badge for this.”
Mason looked over his shoulder at the officers standing by the door. “Detective Lewis, place Detective Panner under arrest. Charges will be attempted kidnapping, and use of a deadly weapon, for starters.”
How did Mason know what Frank had done? She glanced up and tried to figure out where the conference room windows were in relation to where they were now. He couldn’t have seen.
Frank snorted. “You have no proof.”
“Frank, Frank, Frank. As long as you’ve worked here, have you never noticed my office window faces the street?” He reached down and picked up the black mask from the ground and waved it in front of Panner.
Derek’s face paled. “What happened, Tabatha? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because I knew you’d beat the shit out of Frank, she wanted to say. She shrugged instead. “I figured I could handle him on my own.”
“Detective Bainbridge, you may want to get the weapon out of the Jeep. Looked like an eight-inch hunting knife. Am I right, Panner?”
“Go fuck yourself. I ain’t saying nothing. And you.” He pointed toward Tabatha. “You better keep your mouth shut if you want to see your friend alive again.” Detective Lewis trotted over from the base of the steps to where they stood. “Stand up, Panner. You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.”
Tabatha massaged her temples, trying to lessen the painful throb threatening to implode her skull. “Let it go, Lieutenant.”
Mason glared into Frank’s eyes. “One last chance. Where are they holding the girl? If you know, tell us, and this could go away.”
“I’d be in more trouble if I told you.” He glanced at Tabatha. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” He shot his gaze to Derek. “Whosoever lieth with a beast shall surely be put to death.”
Tabatha lowered her chin to her chest. “That’s original.”
Mason shook his head. “What the hell are you babbling about?”
Tabatha turned away, opening the car door. “Exodus chapter twenty- two, verses eighteen and nineteen.” She climbed into Derek’s Blazer and closed the door, shutting out their voices.
Leaning her head against the seat, she allowed Missy’s voice to reach her once again. “Missy, my name is Tabatha. Do you know where you are, honey?”
No. She sobbed. I’m so afraid.
“Tell me what happened. Did you see who took you?” She glanced out the window in time to see Frank led away. Derek and Mason talked back and forth, though Derek’s gaze never left her.
I went to get Daddy’s newspaper. A woman in a blue car stopped and asked if I knew where the Johnson’s lived. I told her I didn’t know. Then she opened the door and pulled me in. She put a rag on my face, and I don’t remember anything after that.
Tabatha closed her eyes and concentrated on Missy. “Can you tell me what she looked like?”
She had black hair, but she had on a hat. She was real skinny.
“Did you see the color of her eyes, Missy?”
Brown. They were mean. The girl’s voice broke with a child-like squall. She looked like she was mad at me. I didn’t do anything, I swear.
Tabatha swallowed a sob. “I know, baby. None of this is your fault.”
I woke up once. I was in the ground. I could see tree roots over me. It smelled like dirt and rotten meat. I heard someone talking real loud outside, but when I tried to yell, the woman put the rag on my face again.
“You said she had on a hat. Do you know what kind?”
Like boys wear all the time. My daddy has some, too.
“Baseball cap?”
I guess. Are you coming to bring me home? She hiccupped. It’s dark here. I’m scared.
“Yes, we’re going to find you.” Tabatha wished she could reach out and hug the child, could comfort her somehow. “Missy, don’t be afraid. She can’t hurt you anymore.”
Promise?
This was one promise she knew she could keep. No one could hurt Missy ever again. “I promise.”
Tabatha turned her face away when Derek slid onto the driver’s seat and started the engine. “You all right?”
“She’s skinny, with black hair, brown eyes and drives a blue car.” She drew a deep breath and faced him. “Missy said when she woke she was underground. What could that mean?”
“What exactly did she say?” Derek shifted in his seat to look at her. Tabatha repeated the child’s words verbatim.
Derek seemed to sink into the seat with the release of a deep breath. “When we find her, do you think if you touched her like you did Selena Fortier, you could see what Missy did?”
A cold chill ran down Tabatha’s spine, as she remembered the fear and pain Selena experienced. The idea of going through that again terrified her.
Tabatha are you still there?
She jumped at the voice’s intrusion. “Yes, Missy, I’m still here.” Derek’s head snapped back. “You’re hearing her right now?”
Tabatha nodded. “Don’t be frightened.”
“I’m not.” He took her hand in his. “Ask her to describe what she saw. Was there anything there? Was it dark?” He shook his head. “No, don’t ask her that.”
There re chairs, a desk, and a shelf with lots of big bottles. There’s a light hanging from a wire, but it’s not on now. It’s dark. I’m afraid.
Tabatha swallowed the tears in her throat and tried to rub away the ache in her chest. “Missy, can you hear Detective Bainbridge?”
Yes.
The moisture evaporated instantly from Tabatha’s mouth. “She can hear you, Derek. I’ve never known that to happen.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m sorry, Missy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Is he going
to help you find me?
“Can you hear her, Derek?”
He shook his head.
“Try, Derek. Relax, shut out the rest of the world. Shut me out. Listen for her.”
“Tabatha, I’m not…”
She shot to her knees on the seat drawing so close she could feel his warm breath against her face. “Concentrate. If she can hear you, you should be able to hear her. Close your eyes.” She ran her fingertips gently over his forehead to his temples. “Relax. Think only about Missy.” Tabatha continued her caressing trail over his face.
“Missy, say hello to Derek.”
Hello Derek. Will you come get me?
Tabatha watched his face flush and his expression change to shock and disbelief. She leaned forward as Mason approached and tapped on the window.
Derek drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He rolled down the window. “What?”
The Lieutenant’s face scowled. “What’s the hold up? I’m starving.”
“We’re leaving now. Just follow me there.” Derek rolled up the window and jammed the car into gear.
“Derek?” Tabatha pulled the seatbelt across her body.
“What?” His voice was a growl.
“Did you hear Missy?”
He was silent for a long moment. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tabatha rushed into the house to find Bertha sitting at the kitchen table, working off nervous energy by bouncing her legs in a jog from the balls of her feet. “Baby girl, if I’d known something like this would happen, I’d never have let Rhonda go out alone.” She jumped from her chair and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Tabatha pulled her into the chair again and knelt in front of her. “None of this is your fault. Rhonda knew it wasn’t safe going out alone, but she did it anyway.” Tabatha didn’t add that she was doing a good enough job of blaming herself already. “We’re going to find her. Don’t worry.”