Krewe of Hunters, Volume 2: The Unseen ; The Unholy ; The Unspoken ; The Uninvited

by Heather Graham

  She shook her head. “This turns everything around. Now we have to find the previous owner, and we have to find everyone who worked here at the time.”

  Kat walked over to them and said, “The previous owner is dead. There was an article about him—written by none other than Ted Murphy—several months ago. The guy was elderly and he lived in Austin, where he died of some kind of flu. He didn’t spend much time at the Longhorn to begin with, and he would’ve been questioned back then, so whatever he had to say will be in the police reports. But he wasn’t here when the blood was discovered by one of the maids. He was in Austin. He’d been there for weeks before it happened.”

  “Sandy will know who was working here,” Kelsey said. She turned to Logan. “I’m really tired,” she murmured.

  He didn’t put an arm around her the way he wanted to; they were in a professional situation. But he wanted to get away from this place as fast as he could. With Kelsey.

  And he was going to be the head of this unit?

  Maybe unit was the key word. People who worked together, who had one another’s backs. Because, before he could ponder the situation, Kat spoke up.

  “You two get out of here tonight,” she said. “I have this covered. Go to your house and get some sleep.”

  “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

  “I’m the one whose job it is to deal with the mortal remains.” She laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “You have to catch the living who commit the crimes.”

  He smiled at her and took Kelsey’s hand, and he no longer cared who saw him. “Come on,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

  “I think I’m ready to exit by the fire escape.”

  “Aw, come on, tough girl. I know you can handle it.”

  And, of course, she did. They went downstairs, and when people crowded around them, Kelsey was the perfect professional.

  “There’s nothing to say,” she explained. “Remember, we assume it’s the body of Sierra Monte. We won’t know any more until the medical examiner has examined the remains, and that won’t be for a while.”

  “Why wasn’t that body found before?” Ted Murphy demanded.

  “I guess no one looked in the wall,” Kelsey said coldly. “And beyond that, Mr. Murphy, I have no idea. I’m just in from Florida. And, as we all know, this is Texas!”

  Murphy was going to question her again. But, somehow, the man no longer ignited Logan’s temper as he had earlier.

  “There’s nothing else to tell anyone tonight. Please have some respect!” he said loudly. “This was a living person who died tragically. Please give the people working for the state and the country time to get in there and do their jobs.”

  He walked through the crowd, drawing Kelsey along with him.

  They were in the car before she turned to him and said, “What the hell is wrong with people? With all of us? Why isn’t there more concern about the fact that someone died?”

  He was quiet for a minute. “I don’t think the issue is that people don’t care. We’re all horrified to hear about an earthquake or some other disaster that killed thousands. But we can’t help taking it more personally when someone close to us dies. Besides, the news media told everyone a year ago that Sierra Monte had to be dead. So, our mutual grief over a young woman who had her life cut short has already been felt. Now, it’s more of a curiosity.”

  Kelsey sat back. “I think I care too much,” she said.

  “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be who you are, and you wouldn’t be so good at what you do.”

  She looked at him and smiled slowly. “Thank you. I just feel bad that I betrayed a friend.”

  “Kelsey, I’m sorry, but murder takes precedence, and Sandy will have to realize that. Besides, it didn’t appear that we harmed her business any.”

  She seemed to agree with that.

  When they reached his house, he suggested she might need food, but she said she wasn’t interested. He poured her a glass of wine, and she drank it, and afterward, she walked into the bedroom. He left her alone until his own sense of exhaustion took hold. He went in as quietly as he could, doffed his clothes and slid into his side of the bed. A few minutes later, she moved against him; he was surprised.

  When they’d made love, he thought maybe it had been an affirmation of what was good about life, and he was glad to sleep with her through the night. Maybe they were both too tired to dream, or have visions, or nightmares. He remembered holding her, stroking her hair—and then his alarm rang, announcing that it was seven-thirty.

  He rose and showered and dressed, while Kelsey was still deeply asleep. He sat by her and tousled her hair, trying to wake her gently. He was worried; he hadn’t thought she’d be quite so upset by yesterday’s events. Her guilt about Sandy, in particular, seemed to distress her. He hoped she’d gotten over it—or at least forgiven herself.

  She opened her eyes and groaned. “This was supposed to be vacation time while I decided about taking the job,” she said. She closed her eyes again and opened just one. “You didn’t happen to make coffee yet, did you?”

  “I did. But you don’t get any until you’ve had your shower,” he told her.

  That brought her to her feet, pushing him out of the way and flying for the bathroom. He returned to the kitchen; she was soon there, neatly and professional dressed in one of her dark pantsuits.

  “Where are we going? The office?” she asked.

  He nodded. “We’ll keep getting information. Ned Bixby confessed to all the murders, but we know he was lying. I don’t think he murdered his wife—that’s in his mind. He believes it’s his fault she’s dead and he wants to be punished.”

  Kelsey got cream from the refrigerator for their coffee. “But…I thought you agreed the drowning victim—Cynthia Bixby—was the victim of a different killer.”

  “When we learned who she was and what her marriage had been like, I wanted to believe we’d found the killer. But when we sat with Bixby… Kelsey, he cried so hard over the pictures of his wife. I just don’t know.”

  “You don’t think he killed her in a fit of passion and anger? Or that maybe he is crazy and did kill the others?”

  Logan shook his head. “I just don’t feel it,” he said.

  Kelsey hesitated, running her fingers over the rim of her coffee cup. “Logan, I went back to the Longhorn yesterday because I’d talked to various people who helped us get IDs on two of the dead women. Both of them thought they had psychic powers. Whether they did or not, we’ll never truly know. But I think you’re right about the diamond. In whatever way, this man is managing to drug the women, making them pliable—just as in a date-rape situation. But he doesn’t want to rape anyone. He wants to find someone who’ll communicate with Rose Langley and have her reveal where the Galveston diamond is hidden. But…”

  “But?”

  “Rose doesn’t know.”

  Logan studied her. “You asked Rose’s spirit, I take it?”

  She nodded. “I wonder so much about what we see, and what we can’t see. I thought maybe she’d gone on, because what I saw in visions or dreams was what everyone calls a residual haunting. But yesterday, she was there. And what’s…nice, I suppose, is that Rose and Sierra know each other. And maybe they’re in that room together because of the diamond. Or…who knows why Rose is still here? Whether he really died fighting for Texas or not, Matt Meyers is certainly long gone.”

  “But Sierra’s killer isn’t—and men are apparently still prepared to kill for a diamond.”

  “We’re back to square one,” Kelsey said.

  “No, we’re not. Now we can safely assume that Sierra was a victim, just like the others. And even as a ghost or spirit or residing soul, she can’t tell us anything because she must have been taken in the same way. The roofie in the drug cocktail keeps the women from remembering. But it does help to know that Sierra obviously met the same fate. Because we can start looking harder and closer at the people who were involved with the Longhorn at the time she died. Okay, no
t the old owner since he was never around and he’s dead, anyway.”

  “We’ll have to bring Sandy in and query her on everything from the day she made her down payment on the place.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Logan said. “Let’s get on in.”

  They’d started the drive to the station, both thoughtful, when Kelsey suddenly turned to him. “Why don’t we stop at the Alamo for a bit? I want to see if Zachary Chase is around.”

  “All right,” he said slowly.

  As he parked, he noticed that there was a Ranger car in front of the Longhorn farther down the street.

  Well, maybe Jackson had decided that when the forensic crew had finished, the inn—or the crime scene—was going to be in need of some protection.

  They went to their usual bench. It was early, but already the plaza was busy.

  “I wonder if Zachary will expect us at this hour,” Logan said.

  He needn’t have worried. They’d only been there a few minutes when Kelsey nudged him. He saw Zachary excusing himself, unheard, as he made his way through a sea of tourists.

  Kelsey and Logan moved apart, as they usually did, so Zachary could sit between them.

  “I’m surprised to see you two,” he said. “And I’m sorry, but I have nothing to tell you. I suppose that’s good?”

  “Actually,” Kelsey began, “I’ve come to tell you something. Rose is still here.”

  Zachary Chase was silent. There was hope on his face, and sorrow. “My poor Rose. Her life became so wretched, and now she lingers in death.”

  “Maybe she needs a friend,” Kelsey said.

  Zachary was silent again, and neither of them broke the silence. Then he turned to Kelsey, puzzled. “Why don’t you just ask Rose about the diamond? If the wretched gem is found, then—”

  “She doesn’t know where it is, Zachary. She died—and it disappeared,” Kelsey told him.

  He nodded. “It’s terrible, isn’t it?” he mused. “That people could kill, and die, for a stone.”

  “A stone, a hunk of glittering rock…greed,” Logan said. “Zachary, none of this is your fault, and what happened at the Alamo certainly wasn’t.”

  “Perhaps I’ve been waiting….” Zachary shrugged. “Could you… Maybe you could suggest to Rose, if you see her, that she take a stroll. That she walk by the Alamo. That she…well, perhaps you could tell her I’m here.”

  Kelsey smiled. “The Longhorn welcomes guests, Zachary.”

  “But it can’t hold good memories for her,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to be part of the memories she must have of being used and sold…and murdered.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Kelsey promised him.

  “And I am ever vigilant,” he promised in return.

  Logan rose. “We’d better get going,” he said to Kelsey. Zachary got up when she did, and he gave a slight bow.

  “I’ll remain vigilant,” he vowed.

  They watched as he walked away and disappeared into the crowd. Then they headed for Logan’s car. Kelsey paused, looking at the Longhorn down the street and the vehicle parked in front of it.

  “It’s a Ranger car,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it a friend?” she asked.

  He grinned. “There aren’t that many of us, so most likely.”

  “Did you arrange it?”

  He shook his head. “No, I assume Jackson did.”

  “Just one car,” she murmured. “One Ranger?”

  “I guess you haven’t heard all our stories,” he said. “In the early 1900s, the mayor of Dallas called on the Rangers because he was about to deal with an angry mob. When Ranger Captain W. J. McDonald stepped off the train, the mayor asked him, ‘Where are the others?’ To which McDonald replied, ‘One riot, one Ranger,’ or words to that effect. Trust me, Kelsey. One Ranger can keep a curious crowd from making Sandy crazy.”

  “Sandy is going to be crazy, no matter what,” Kelsey said. “Trust me.”

  He sighed, climbed into the car and revved the engine, then drove to the station. An exhausted Kat Sokolov was just leaving.

  “I brought my findings in,” she said. “The body was little more than a skeleton. There was some soft tissue left, but because of the situation, it became almost mummified. She was stabbed to death—no surprise there. I was able to tell she’d also been drugged, with the same cocktail used on the others. What I haven’t been able to find yet is any puncture mark on any of the victims. Not even Vanessa Johnston. I don’t know how this man is managing to get the drugs into their systems. Possibly a patch, as I mentioned before, but…”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Logan said. “Now it’s your turn to get some rest.”

  She nodded and smiled wearily.

  Sean was in the office when they arrived, working industriously at a computer. “We’ve got you for the day?” Kelsey asked him.

  “Work on the documentary has been suspended.”

  “I hadn’t realized Ned Bixby had that big a role in it. He doesn’t really look like a Mexican,” Logan said.

  Sean raised one shoulder in a shrug. “He was playing a bunch of different roles. Word just came down from the producer, perhaps out of respect for the situation, that we’d resume next week.” He looked at them both for a moment. “I think I’ve found something you’ll want to see.”

  Logan and Kelsey walked around to stand behind him. Sean had a series of emails up on the screen.

  “This showed up at eight,” he said, indicating the computer. “It belonged to Linsey Applewood, and her landlord had it in storage. I hacked her code and brought up her emails. She was corresponding with someone called Mr.Alamo.”

  “Were you able to trace it back to a name?” Logan asked.

  Sean’s expression was sheepish. “If I’d traced a name, I’d be dancing a jig. No, no name, but I did find out that the emails were all coming and going from an internet café a few blocks from the Longhorn. The thing is, you need to read the email correspondence.”

  Sean stood and allowed Logan to take his place. “Go to the first one. They start about two years ago, and become more…evocative, I guess you could say.”

  Linsey Applewood’s screen name had been seeitgirl. The first email had been sent by Mr.Alamo.

  Hey. Heard you have a gift. I have a gift. Maybe we could get together and explore options.

  Seeitgirl had written back:

  I’m the real deal. I don’t play games.

  Then you should come here. The area is full of legends, mysteries—and riches.

  More emails followed in a teasing vein, including some that questioned seeitgirl’s abilities.

  I talk to the dead, she’d written at last.

  And Mr.Alamo had responded:

  That’s what is needed. Only the dead can tell the tale. When you come, I will prove that I am everything I claim. And then you must prove that you are all that you claim. If so, we can share fame and treasure.

  “Where’s the internet café?” Logan asked.

  Sean gave him the exact address.

  “I’ll need to bring photos of the woman,” Logan murmured. “Do we have a list yet of people working at the Longhorn at the time Sierra was murdered?”

  “We have what I could pull off IRS logs,” Sean said.

  “I guess being federal is good.” Logan grinned. “Very helpful. But we still need to interview Sandy, see what she remembers about any staff who were there a year ago.”

  He looked at Kelsey. She groaned. “I think that someone other than me should call her right now.”

  Logan nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  “No, wait,” Kelsey said, heading for one of the other desks. “I’ll get her down here. I can’t believe she’s still that upset with me, or that she’ll refuse to help with an ongoing murder investigation.”

  She sat down and dialed the Longhorn. Logan watched as she got an answer, as she waited and then frowned. Finally, she hung up.

  “Logan, Sandy is gone.
”

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  Kelsey’s face was taut with tension. “I spoke with Ricky. He got the customers out at about four in the morning. He didn’t see Sandy then, but he assumed she’d gone to bed. He went to wake her when she didn’t show up this morning and he found that her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her handbag’s there, none of her clothing is gone, but he can’t find her. Oh, God, Logan, do you think the killer was there last night? That…he’s taken Sandy?”

  Chapter 15

  Kelsey felt dizzy for a moment, worried sick, afraid that her affiliation with the case and her relationship with Sandy might have put her friend at risk. She was going to stand, but she didn’t. She couldn’t allow trembling knees in front of her coworkers. And a U.S. Marshal didn’t burst into tears. Neither did an FBI agent. She had strength. She knew it, and she knew her work. However, she’d had no idea what it would feel like when someone she cared about might be in a deadly position because of her.

  Sean looked at her from behind the computer desk. She saw the concern in his eyes. Logan, too, wore an expression of concern; he moved closer to her. “She has a crush on Chasson, right? Let’s find out if she went home with him.” He glanced at Sean. “Try to get him on the phone, and try everyone you know until you find him. Sandy’s probably with him, but even if she’s not, we’ll want to question him.” He looked back at Kelsey. “Sandy could be walking around the city, just needing a break from the Longhorn. I’m not going to say you shouldn’t worry, but the last day’s been traumatic for her.”

  Kelsey nodded. Before panicking, there were a dozen intelligent avenues she could follow. “Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t even be considered missing yet.”

  “Let’s go. While Sean tracks down Jeff Chasson, we’ll start at the Longhorn and try to retrace Sandy’s steps,” Logan said. “Meanwhile, Sean can get a list of addresses for everyone we know was in the saloon last night, and we’ll pay calls on them while we keep trying to reach Sandy. Sean, could you send someone to the evidence locker to see if they had a computer for Sierra Monte? You might check where Sheryl Higgins was last seen, too, and if there’s a possibility she had a computer, iPhone, iPad, whatever. We’ll stay in close contact.”