That Old Devil Moon

by Anne Logan

  “You’re right about Keller and me,” he told Alex. “We go back a long way, back to when I was a green farm-boy who was dirt poor, entering college on a scholarship. I wanted so much to belong, to be a part of everything that I had dreamed of…” He shook his head then took a sip of the liquor.

  “Being part of a fraternity was my chance to leave behind the poverty I came from, to begin a new life.” He sighed. “Pledge week was a nightmare for me. When all was said and done, there was only one fraternity that wanted me. After being rejected by all the others, I was more than eager to pledge to Beta Phi. Too late I discovered that it was just a front for a cult. They call themselves the Dark Rite.”

  Even though they weren’t touching, Maddie sensed the change that came over Alex at the mention of the cult. He’d stiffened and his eyes had narrowed into slits of black ice.

  “The basic belief of the Dark Rite,” Shaw continued, “is that each member can gain power—both financial and political—through rituals and sacrifices.” He shuddered, and there was a shine to his forehead where sweat had popped out. “You have no idea what evil is until you witness one of their ceremonies,” he continued, his voice edgy with fear. “Having grown up as a good, southern Baptist boy, it was the antithesis of everything moral that I had ever been taught.”

  He downed the rest of the bourbon then cleared his throat. “The cult’s ultimate purpose is control, control of the government—and not just locally. You’d be surprised at how widespread it has become in the past twenty years under Keller’s leadership.”

  “Keller!” Alex frowned.

  Shaw nodded. “He inherited the position from his father who inherited it from his father. He’s called the Grand Disciple. The group uses a sophisticated type of brainwashing…among other things.”

  “The disc,” Maddie whispered, her insides churning with revulsion. “The one with the chanting. That’s what they’ve been after all along.”

  Nodding, Shaw stared at her. “Then you’ve heard it.”

  “Yes, but I figured it was just some kind of strange music.”

  “Oh, it’s strange all right,” he said. “But to the Dark Rite, it’s considered sacred. And just as the position of being the Grand Disciple has been passed down, that disc and the gramophone have been handed down through Keller’s family since the 1880s, when the first disc was made. Even back then, the bastards realized the potential of brainwashing. But Keller perfected it with the help of a drug he uses.”

  “So I take it, you’re no longer a part of the cult.”

  Shaw glared at Alex. “You’re damn right I’m not. The second I found out what they were really all about, I quit. I value my sanity and my immortal soul too much to be a part of anything like that.”

  “You said they used other things besides brainwashing. What other things?”

  “Drugs, kidnapping and blackmail,” he answered.

  Alex narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

  “They kidnap teenagers from wealthy, influential families and hold them for ransom…only it’s rare that they ever let them go. By the time they get through drugging and brainwashing the kid, he or she usually continues working for the cult. If the cult finds it can’t brainwash the kid, then…” He shuddered again and his voice trailed off to a whisper.

  “Was Keller blackmailing you?” Alex asked bluntly.

  It took Shaw several moments to compose himself enough to answer. “Yes,” he finally said. “But not for money. When I announced my candidacy for mayor, Keller approached me. I hadn’t even realized he lived in New Orleans. He saw the opportunity to gain political advantages for his cult members, in particular, three men who work for the police department. Once I was elected, he intended to use me like a damn puppet.

  “I went along with him for a while, but was desperate to stop him.” He glanced at Maddie, then quickly lowered his gaze to stare at the empty glass in his hands. But in that brief moment, she saw the genuine regret that clouded his eyes.

  “I knew that Keller kept the gramophone in a special room at Crescent Antiques,” he continued softly. “It was a hidden room, specially designed to hold the most valuable antiques. And he kept the disc there too, hidden among dis’cs of old love songs.”

  Maddie nodded.

  “I also knew that Keller had a new partner, so while Bernie was away on a buying trip, I took a chance and approached Michael, hoping I could persuade him to sell me the gramophone and disc.”

  “But if it was so valuable to Keller, surely he would have told Michael it wasn’t for sale. And wouldn’t Michael have checked with him first?”

  “Michael did check with Keller who said he had a potential buyer for the gramophone—one he was negotiating a price with. So when I showed up and specifically asked for it—” Shaw shrugged. “Michael assumed I was that customer. Also, the first time I approached Michael, I could tell that he was eager to prove himself as a new partner, and of course, this worked to my advantage, too.” Shaw sent Maddie a brief, apologetic look.

  “Anyway, when Keller returned that evening and found out that Michael had sold it to me, he was furious. He told Michael that I wasn’t the customer he’d been negotiating with, and he demanded that Michael get the gramophone and disc back.

  “When Michael came, offering to buy them back, I sensed that he was a straight-arrow type of guy, so I decided to confide in him. Once he realized what was going on, he was furious. With Michael’s help, I finally figured out a way to outwit Keller.”

  Shaw ducked his head. “I’m really sorry about Michael,” he whispered brokenly, “and I blame myself. I knew Keller and the cult members could be ruthless and dangerous, but Michael and I both thought that as long as Keller believed we still had the disc, just the threat of destroying it would keep him in line. That was our biggest mistake. Thinking back now, we should have gone ahead and destroyed it. If we had, maybe Michael and Caroline would still be alive.”

  Shaw raised his head and stared straight into Maddie’s eyes. “I swear to you by everything that’s holy, the last time I saw Michael and Caroline, they were both still alive. When the story about them hit the newspapers, I wondered whether Keller was responsible in some way. But being a mayoral candidate, I had to be careful, so I sent an emissary, a friend of mine, to make inquiries. The police ignored my friend and the information he gave them. The case was closed, and nothing was ever done.”

  Maddie glanced at Alex in time to see him clench his fist, and her heart went out to him. She knew he was thinking of his friend Jack.

  “Either you’re lying or your friend was mistaken,” Alex said bluntly.

  “I’m not lying,” Shaw said defensively. “If you recall, I told you the cult has members in the N.O.P.D.”

  Alex glared at Shaw then closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He didn’t want to believe that his friend could be involved in anything this bad, but there were too many discrepancies in the way Jack had handled the case to ignore the possibility.

  “Did you bring the gramophone and disc with you?” Shaw asked Maddie.

  “No,” she whispered. “We thought it best to talk to you first.”

  “Then your life is in danger. I’m telling you that these people are fanatics who will stop at nothing to get what they want.” Shaw paused. Then, looking as if he had come to a decision, he stood. “Since I’m the legal owner,” he said, “I demand that you turn the gramophone and disc over to me.” He slowly approached Maddie. “Please give them to me. I don’t want more innocent blood on my hands.”

  “But what about you?” she asked. “You’ll be in danger, too.”

  “Maybe, but once I destroy them—which is exactly what I plan to do—then I have a feeling that Keller will lose his power. To his deranged way of thinking, he will have abused the sacred trust handed down to him, and he’ll be in disgrace, so to speak. By destroying them, I’ll destroy him.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Alex said, “but I’m afraid I can’t let you destroy anyth
ing just yet.”

  “Why not?” Shaw demanded.

  Alex held up his hand. “Personally, I wouldn’t care if you burned the lot, but if I’m ever to prove that Michael Johnson was murdered, then the gramophone and the disc are evidence. And right now, even with the evidence I have, I’m afraid it’s still not enough.”

  Shaw didn’t answer immediately. Then he spoke quietly. “I suppose you’re right, but we need to put it somewhere secure. There’s also the problem of Ms. Johnson’s safety. She’ll have to be protected.”

  Maddie glanced at Alex.

  “We know she’s being followed,” he said. “And someone has already tried to get at her.”

  “Twice,” Maddie whispered as she faced Alex. “I was assaulted outside of Michael’s apartment the night we went to clean out his stuff. You had already left, and I was loading some items into my car. The man attacked me, but I was able to scream and fight him off until help came. Sid, the man who has the apartment below Michael’s, came to my rescue, and the attacker ran.”

  Alex grabbed her by the shoulders in a punishing grip. “Why didn’t you say something before now?” he demanded, his eyes bright with fury. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “There wasn’t much point before now,” she snapped, jerking away. “And you know very well why I didn’t call you. But a few minutes ago, you said you needed more evidence, and I just remembered that there’s a good possibility that the man still has a cut— or at least a scar—on his face where I caught him with my keys.”

  “Can you protect her?” Shaw asked.

  Alex continued to glare at Maddie for several more seconds before he answered. “She’ll be protected. Whether she likes it or not.”

  “Then I suggest we go get the gramophone and disc and put them away somewhere safe,” Shaw said.

  AT MADDIE’S apartment complex, the security guard glanced up from his magazine to see a man walking toward him. The stranger was wearing a black Stetson pulled low over his forehead, and in the fading daylight, the guard couldn’t see the visitor’s face.

  The man waved, and the guard nodded. “Good evening,” he said, eyeing the expensive clothes.

  “Sorry to bother you,” the stranger said, “but I’ve had a bit of car trouble just down the street, and I wonder if I could use your telephone.”

  The guard nodded. “Sure thing,” he said, stepping out of the small checkpoint booth that guarded the entry to the apartment complex. “The phone’s in there. Help your—” A rustling noise behind the guard caught his attention, but as he turned, sudden pain, like the burn of a red-hot branding iron shot through his head. As the guard slumped to the ground, the last thing he saw before the night faded into nothingness was a man, dressed completely in black standing over him with a tire iron in his hands.

  WHEN ALEX DROVE his car through the open gate of Maddie’s apartment complex, Maddie noted that the booth was empty.

  “I wonder what happened to the security guard,” she said, craning her neck to search for him.

  Alex just shrugged. “He’s probably off making rounds or checking out a complaint.”

  “Maybe, but he never leaves the gate open.”

  Ross Shaw leaned forward from the back seat. “Is this the kind of security you had in mind for Ms. Johnson?”

  “Not exactly,” Alex answered curtly. “She won’t be staying here.”

  Maddie turned to Alex. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ll discuss this later,” he said.

  “But, Alex—”

  “Please, Maddie, not now”, he said as he pulled into her parking space.

  Maddie didn’t like being dismissed, but Alex had switched off the engine and he and Shaw were already climbing out of the car, so she decided to let the matter drop for now.

  Maddie’s apartment was one of four that shared a building and a common foyer. As Alex, Shaw and Maddie approached the door to her apartment, Maddie dug her keys out of her purse. As she was about to insert the key into the lock, she tilted her head and frowned. “I thought I just heard voices,” she said, “but I don’t remember leaving the television or radio on.”

  Alex grabbed Maddie and jerked her back away from the door. When she opened her mouth to protest, he held his forefinger to his lips then motioned for her and Shaw to flatten themselves against the wall. Standing to one side of the door, he drew out his gun. Reaching out with his other hand, he slowly twisted the doorknob then abruptly pushed open the door.

  When seconds passed and nothing happened, he ventured a quick look around the door frame. “Sonof-a-bitch,” he whispered, feeling his knees begin to buckle.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HIS WORST NIGHTMARE!

  Carla was standing in the middle of Maddie’s living room. Her eyes were red-rimmed and wide with fright. Behind her, with his arm in a stranglehold beneath her chin and holding a gun pointed at her temple was a man Alex recognized as Beraie Keller.

  “Daddy!” Carla cried.

  Before Alex could warn them, Maddie and Shaw crowded behind on either side of him in the doorway.

  “Oh, God, no,” Maddie whispered, her gaze focused on Carla.

  “Damn,” Shaw muttered.

  “You—cop, drop your gun!” Keller demanded.

  “Daddy!”

  “Just hang tight, baby.” And though Alex tried to keep his tone soothing and reassuring for Carla’s sake, he felt as if his heart had suddenly turned into a jackhammer as he dropped his gun.

  “Now get in here—all of you,” Keller ordered, dragging Carla backward.

  Alex, Maddie and Shaw stepped into the room. It was then that Alex saw the other man, the man he had noticed at Michael’s funeral who had been dressed completely in black.

  The man barely glanced their way, and seemed focused on taking apart and packing the gramophone. Beside him were three boxes and packing material. One box was already sealed, and Alex assumed it held the disc of chanting and the love songs.

  Alex narrowed his eyes as he noted that the man had an angry red scar on his cheek.

  “My God, Bernie.” Shaw had moved to stand on Alex’s right. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hand outstretched, he took a step toward Keller.

  “Don’t be a fool, Ross,” Keller snarled, tightening his grip on Carla. “You’re not hero material. One more step—from any of you—and I’ll kill the girl.”

  To his left, Alex heard Maddie gasp. She was staring at the man packing the gramophone.

  “Do you recognize that creep?” Alex asked, his eyes never straying from Keller.

  “His name is Terry Carter. He’s Josephine Carter’s son, and he works at Crescent Antiques.” Then she spotted the scar. “You!” she cried. “You’re the one who attacked me.”

  Suddenly, Terry stopped and fingered his cheek. “Yeah, I still owe you for this.”

  Maddie shivered. No wonder he hadn’t spoken to her the day she had seen him at Crescent Antiques. If she had heard his voice, she would have recognized it.

  “Daddy!” Carla gasped, and pulled at Keller’s arm as she began to cough and choke.

  Rage welled up in Alex. “Let her go, Keller!” he shouted. “Think, man. Killing four people is going to be pretty hard to cover up. And just remember,” he added, “the second you pull that trigger, you’re a dead man, because I’ll be on you like a vulture on dead meat. If I have to, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  Alex sensed, rather than saw, Maddie move, just the slightest sliding motion to inch nearer to Keller. At the same time, Shaw moved the other way, easing closer to Terry.

  The thought of Carla or Maddie being killed was too terrible to comprehend, and Alex’s first impulse was to demand that Maddie and Shaw keep still. But he also reasoned that the odds of any of them leaving Maddie’s apartment alive were slim to none. Taking Keller by surprise was their only hope.

  Alex tensed in readiness to take the first opportunity to jump the man. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his ve
ins.

  Still coughing and gagging, Carla suddenly reached up and clawed at Keller’s eyes. Cursing, Keller loosened his hold to grab for his eyes, and the distraction was the break they needed. Like a streak of lightning, Maddie reached out and grabbed Carla as Alex lunged for Keller. At the same moment, behind them, Ross dived at Terry.

  The second after Maddie jerked Carla out of Keller’s grasp, Alex hit him with a full body tackle. Keller’s gun went off, the explosion deafening.

  Terrified that Alex had been shot, Maddie couldn’t move as she watched him rolling on the floor with Keller.

  Alex hammered Keller’s hand against the floor, finally sending the gun flying beneath a chair, and it was then Maddie realized that no one had been hit. With a firm grip around Carla’s waist, she dragged the girl toward the door.

  “Go call for help,” she shouted at the teenager. But Carla didn’t seem to hear her. Trembling, the girl appeared mesmerized by the battle going on between her father and Keller. Maddie seized her by the shoulders and shook her. “Your dad needs backup. Go call Casey!” She gave the girl a push, and this time, Carla took off running.

  Maddie glanced to her right. Terry was crumpled on the floor, out cold. Shaw had torn into the packed cardboard box of discs, and one by one, he was smashing them against the corner of the table.

  Amidst grunts and curses, Alex and Keller were rolling on the floor, locked in a duel of iron will and strength. Alex appeared to have the upper hand, then suddenly, Keller threw a punch that gave him the edge, and he pinned Alex to the floor. Straddling Alex’s chest, Keller put his hands around Alex’s neck and squeezed.

  Maddie could tell that Alex was weakening. Frantically, she looked around for his gun. When she finally spotted it, she saw that Shaw had tucked it into the waistband of his pants.

  She screamed at Shaw. “Help him!” But the man ignored her as he viciously continued destroying the discs.

  Without thought for her own safety and only knowing that if she didn’t help Alex, Keller would kill him, Maddle grabbed the nearest heavy object, a brass bookend shaped like a treble clef. Gripping the bookend with both hands as she moved into position, she raised it above her head. Taking aim, she smashed it on top of Keller’s head.