1 Death Warmed Over

by Kent Holloway

  “So be it.”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence in the room. This interview had taken a turn she hadn’t expected. Sure, she hadn’t thought Spenser Blakely would just roll over and admit to killing his girlfriend, but she’d never expected this twisted direction either.

  “Esperanza,” Silas suddenly said.

  Blakely’s eyes stretched wide at the mention of her name.

  “Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it?” he continued. “You know Esperanza. She’s got you spooked. That’s why you’re trying so hard to get out of town. Why you were hiding.”

  “Partially.” Blakely nodded. “But if you knew what that woman…that creature…really was, you’d go into hiding too.”

  “Chuckles, I was married to that creature. Trust me. I feel your pain.”

  The man reeled back in his chair. If it hadn’t been bolted down, Becca was certain it would have tipped over by his reaction. “Married to her? But…but…”

  “Yeah, I know.” Silas’ grinned stretched wide. “You never can tell with some people, eh?”

  Becca placed a hand on Silas’ arm to shut him up and addressed Blakely. “So, this has to do with Esperanza?”

  His head nodded emphatically, but his gaze remained glued on Silas. “I…she…” He drank more from the water bottle and sighed. “Andrea overheard the two of them one night over a month ago. Although she didn’t quite know what they were talking about, she understood enough. Something about a powerful artifact that had the power…the power…”

  “The power over life and death,” Silas said. His grin had disappeared. “The Hand of Cain.”

  Blakely nodded.

  “What did she overhear?” he asked, leaning forward in his seat.

  “Like I said, she only overheard bits and pieces and even then, she didn’t understand half of what she’d heard. But something about it being hidden where someone would never find it.”

  “Did they mention who this someone was?”

  Blakely shook his head. “Problem is, she got caught eavesdropping. Omo Sango warned her not to tell anyone or he would unleash a bilongo on her like no one had ever seen before.”

  “Which is why it was so easy to convince her Garcia had cursed her,” Becca chimed in.

  “Yes. Of course, I had no idea about it, but when she discovered the doll, she’d told me everything she remembered about that night.”

  Silas sat in his chair, staring past Blakely’s shoulder. Becca could almost hear the gears inside his head grinding as he worked to process it all.

  “If what you’re saying is true and you thought Garcia or Esperanza—”

  “Santa Muerte!” Blakely shouted, his terrified stare still fixed on Silas. “Let’s call her what she is.”

  “Fine. If you thought Garcia and that woman had killed her…” Becca refused to call her Santa Muerte. “…why did you wait a few days after her death to start hiding out? I mean, you ran another story on her murder. You pointed a finger at Garcia in it. Heck, you even boldly proclaimed you were running for mayor to clean up the town of Santeria and its ilk.”

  “He thought he was protected,” Silas said, still staring off into space. His voice had almost zero inflection in it, as if the statement was simply a matter of fact. “That’s what all that stuff in his sanctum was. He was pulling resources from every magico-religious system he could think of to create a protective ward around himself. But something must have happened to let him know he wasn’t nearly as safe as he thought.”

  Blakely drank the last of the water and nodded again. “That witch showed up in my house one night. As easy as you please. One minute, I was alone, surrounded by my protective charms. The next, she was standing right in front of me, kissing me on the lips.”

  Becca glanced over at Silas, but he didn’t respond.

  “She then warned me not to say anything about what Andrea had told me.” The journalist pointed at Silas. “Especially to him. I didn’t understand why at the time, but I swore I wouldn’t say a word. As soon as she left, I went into hiding, hoping I could figure a way to get out of town without Omo Sango or that creature finding out.”

  Silas’ eyes finally came into focus and he looked directly at suspect. “I’ve figured it out,” he said. “I know who killed Ms. Alvarez. Most importantly, I know why.” He looked over at Becca. “But you need to call an ambulance right now.”

  “What? Why?”

  He turned back to the man across the table from them. “Because Mr. Blakely is about to have a heart attack.”

  Then, as if his very words made it happen, the middle-aged journalist clutched at his chest. His face, stricken with pain and terror, contorted into a ghastly grimace. Becca leapt from her seat and rushed to the door. “Someone get EMS here now!”

  40

  SAINT JOHNS MEDICAL CENTER

  EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT

  FRIDAY, 6:15 PM

  “Dr. Stratton to the E.R., please,” the woman’s voice boomed over the hospital intercom. “Dr. Stratton to the E.R.”

  Becca paced back and forth in front of Spenser Blakely’s room while a horde of medical staff worked to save his life.

  “What are we doing here, Becca?” Silas asked, pacing in step with her while zipping his yo-yo around in vibrant patterns. “The guy’s not going to survive this.”

  “Put that thing away.” She crinkled her nose and shook her head. “And you don’t know that!” Of course, he knew. He was Death. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. As a matter of fact, her mind had been replaying the events that had occurred only minutes before their suspect had collapsed. They’d discussed Silas’ ex-wife, Esperanza, placing her as a possible suspect. He’d gone quiet after that, lapsing into a fit of concentration as the interview had continued. Concentration similar to what she’d seen when he’d used his finger gun to bring down three of Garcia’s goons when they’d entered the storage facility that was the gang’s headquarters.

  Then, he’d proclaimed he’d solved the case—something he had yet to explain to her—and casually told her to call Fire-Rescue because Blakely was about to have a heart attack. It was entirely too coincidental for her liking.

  “And just how do you know he’s going to die?” She wheeled around on him. “Did you do something to him?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “Well, was it his ‘Time’, as you call it?”

  “No, it wasn’t. As a matter of fact, I believe he was scheduled to have a few more years left, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Then, how did you know?”

  Silas put his hands down his pockets and squared off on her. “First, the profuse sweating. The dehydration. The fidgeting and nerves. And I also noticed, he kept stroking the left side of his cheek with his hand. He was having tooth pain, I believe. All signs of an eminent heart attack.”

  “Okay, but…”

  “But, the most important thing is that I felt it, Becca. I felt the Hand of Cain being activated. I could sense someone directing its power at Blakely. I can’t explain it, but I felt it nonetheless.”

  She eyed him. “And you had nothing to do with it?”

  “For the last time, no. Why would I want him dead? He’s obviously a link to whoever has the Hand.”

  “Someone like your ex, maybe?”

  “If you think I’d kill a man to protect that woman—or her gangbanging henchmen—you don’t know me at all. Besides, I know she doesn’t have the Hand.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve already told you…we can’t touch the thing.”

  “That doesn’t mean one of her followers can’t do it for her. Seems to me, Jacinto Garcia would be a prime candidate for the artifact,” she said. “As a matter of fact, sounds like that’s what led to Andrea’s death even. She found out about the Hand and they killed her for it.”

  Silas opened his mouth to protest, then obviously thought better of it. He sighed, relaxing visibly in front of her.

  “I know
how we can catch the killer…get them to confess even,” he said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  “I’m sure I won’t, but…”

  A ruckus erupted from inside the partition leading into Blakely’s room. The doctor shouted a series of orders. Others responded. A nurse ran from the room, moving toward a hallway door a few feet away, only to return a moment later with a vial of clear liquid. The commotion continued and Becca found herself biting her lower lip as she listened and waited.

  Silas had moved over to one of the waiting room chairs and resumed his yo-yoing. She decided to ignore the impropriety. It wasn’t important now. The only thing that mattered was that her suspect lived.

  But a few moments later, the tumult in Blakely’s room receded and one by one, nurses and orderlies filed out with downcast faces. Finally, the doctor—a Dr. Bernita Arruza—strolled out from the room and approached Becca.

  Arruza, a middle-aged woman of what Becca guessed to be Mediterranean descent, looked at her with a somber expression. “I’m sorry, Chief Cole. We did everything we could, but we lost him.”

  “Any idea what killed him?”

  The doctor shrugged. “At his age and physical condition, I’d say it’s probably some type of cardiac event, but I can’t be sure. Do you know if he has any medical history?”

  “No, I don’t,” she replied. “And his wife died a few years ago. I’m not sure who his next of kin is or anyone else who might be able to tell us.”

  The doctor nodded. “Guess we’ll call the M.E. then. Maybe they’ll be able to get some answers for you.”

  With that, Dr. Arruza strolled toward the nurse’s station to complete her paperwork. Becca turned to Silas, who had moved from the waiting room chair to her side without her even noticing. “Okay, Mot. What’s this plan of yours I’m not going to like?”

  He grinned.

  41

  SAND CASTLE CONDOMINIUMS

  ANDREA ALVAREZ’S APARTMENT

  SATURDAY, 8:30 AM

  “I can’t believe you actually talked me into this,” Becca said, looking around the corner of Andrea Alvarez’s kitchen into the living room.

  The room was now filled with every living suspect in the case. James Andrews and Ceci Palmer sat uncomfortably on the loveseat facing the sliding glass doors. Elaine Shepherd, wearing the bright orange jumpsuit of the county jail, sat in the overstuffed reading chair. Sergeant Tanner, who was handcuffed to her, stood behind her with his usual stone-like expression. Finally, the massive figure of Jacinto Garcia hunkered down in the couch next to the loveseat, with the beautiful, but devious Esperanza by his side.

  Two of her other officers and two sheriff’s deputies stood at attention around the room, keeping their careful eye on all the suspects.

  “Why not?” Silas whispered back. “This is going to be fun.”

  “Because we don’t do dramatic killer reveals in real life. That’s just something they do in the movies.”

  Ever since Silas had told her who he believed the killer was—and more importantly, why Andrea Alvarez was killed—her gut had been simply to arrest the person and sweat them out in the interrogation room. The problem was, the way in which Andrea had been killed had been brilliant. Short of having an eye-witness to someone seeing the pills switched, there was no way to tie the killer to the crime. That’s how Silas had talked her into his crazy scheme. With it, he’d promised a confession by the end of the night.

  “Yeah, but they’re really good movies.” He chuckled in her ear. “Besides, I can guarantee you no movie has ever done a killer reveal like the one we’re about to do.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of blowing your cover?” she asked, turning her attention back to the block of cheese on the counter top. She cut the block into twelve smaller wedges.

  “Nah,” he said, busying himself with pouring wine into five glasses. “Whoever’s got the Hand already knows who I am. So, does Esperanza and Garcia. The others? Well, only you and the killer will actually see what I’m doing and they won’t be saying much of anything when I’m done.”

  She spun around on him. “You’re not going to…”

  “Kill them? No way. Look, I know you think that because I’m the Grim Reaper, I’m all about…” He wiggled his fingers and spoke in a theatrical spooky voice. “…harvesting souls…” He chuckled again. “But truth is, if all this living in the mortal world has taught me anything, it’s that life is just too sacred. Besides, I’m nothing if not committed to my Purpose. You know I don’t abuse my power.”

  She did. It was one of the qualities she actually liked about the guy. He could be an immature child sometimes, but when it came to his job as Death, he was committed.

  “So, you ready?” he asked her.

  “As much as I’ll ever be.”

  Silas nodded in the direction of the living room and she picked up the platter of cheese and started making her way toward their ‘guests’. As she stepped down into the room, she laid the platter on the coffee table and waited until Silas had deposited the wine glasses before addressing their suspects.

  “First of all, I’ll like to thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she said, standing in front of the bookcase. Silas, for his part, had skulked back toward the kitchen without a word. “We’re here today as a sort of celebration.”

  “Celebration?” James Andrews said. “Does that mean you caught Andrea’s killer?”

  “Haven’t you heard?” Elaine Shepherd asked him. “Spenser Blakely was arrested, though he died of a heart attack before they could formally charge him.”

  Jacinto Garcia’s eyes narrowed as he stared suspiciously at Becca while Esperanza leaned back on the couch with a bored look on her face.

  “It’s true,” Becca continued. “We did arrest Mr. Blakely and yes, he did die before we could make formal charges. This has been one of the most grueling investigations I’ve ever conducted and each of you have been exceptionally good sports about it.”

  “Um, hello?” Elaine said, holding up her hand to reveal the handcuffs. “I’m having some difficulty finding anything to celebrate at the moment. Now that Blakely’s dead, are you going to drop the charges against me?”

  “Charges?” Ceci Palmer asked. “Aren’t you Andrea’s work friend? Why have they arrested you?”

  Elaine blushed at the question, then, embarrassed, lowered her handcuffed hand behind the chair’s armrest.

  “Mrs. Shepherd is being charged with conspiracy and solicitation to cause someone bodily harm,” Becca explained. “She approached Mr. Garcia…”

  There was a low growl that came from the large Cuban man.

  “Sorry. She approached Omo Sango here, asking him to perform the death curse on Andrea.”

  “You’re the one who cursed her?” Ceci asked Elaine, her voice rising in anger.

  “Of course, not,” she replied. “The charges are ridiculous. First of all, Omo Sango refused to perform it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Becca told her. “As the state attorney has informed me, the intent was there. To solicit someone to kill another person by use of a gun or ritualistic magic, it makes no difference. The gun might be unloaded, but it’s still solicitation and conspiracy nonetheless. Same is true with trying to curse someone—especially someone predisposed to believe the curse will work.” The chief smiled at the woman. “And you were determined, Ms. Shepherd. You weren’t about to let Omo Sango’s refusal stop you, were you? You just sought out someone else to do it. Like Spenser Blakely.”

  “Spenser was into Santeria?” James asked. “But that’s crazy. He despised the whole lot of them.”

  “Only because he wished to abuse the Orisha,” Jacinto Garcia spoke up. “He wanted to bend them to his will. To control them instead of serving them. I excommunicated him and he resented us for it from then on.” The big man nodded to the food and wine on the coffee table. “Is that for us?”

  Becca smiled, waving to the cheese. “Help yourself everyone,” she said. “We have
plenty.”

  James, Ceci, and Garcia took a few pieces of the cheese and a glass of wine each, but Esperanza and Elaine didn’t move from their seats.

  “It’s rather odd, isn’t it? Putting out cheese and wine for people you’ve obviously viewed as suspects throughout your investigation,” Elaine said.

  Becca shrugged. “We know from the autopsy, that it was the last thing Andrea ate before she died. I just thought it was an appropriate way to honor her right now.”

  Esperanza let out a knowing little laugh with a disdainful curl of her lip, but she said nothing.

  “And yes, Mrs. Shepherd,” Becca continued. “Each and every one of you have been suspects at least once in this investigation. But fortunately, today, we can put all that behind us. Today, we can name the killer.”

  “Spenser Blakely?” Ceci asked.

  “He was definitely the one who stabbed her in the back, yes. He also dumped her body on the beach in hopes of pinning her death on Mister…um, Omo Sango here.” Becca turned her gaze on Elaine Shepherd. “And he also agreed to perform a death curse on her for a price, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s his word against mine.”

  “Yes, but I already spoke with Mr. Neely on the phone. He told me you had spoken to him about getting prime customers of his firm to place ads in The Summer Haven Chronicler…the price you agreed to for him to perform the curse.”

  “Unbelievable,” Ceci said, shaking her head. She put an arm around James and leaned into his shoulder for comfort. “Andrea really thought Spenser was a nice guy. I can’t believe he’d kill her like that.”

  Becca turned to face her. “Oh, but he didn’t actually kill her,” she said. “When he found her, she was already dead. He just saw her death as another opportunity to drive a proverbial nail in Omo Sango’s coffin while increasing newspaper sales. The only thing he was really guilty of was desecrating a corpse, greed, and having really bad taste.”

  She suppressed an urge to smile as she spoke. Although she’d never in a million years admit it to Silas, the whole ‘killer reveal’ thing was much more fun than she ever imagined it would be. She knew it was horribly unprofessional, but there was something classic about gathering all the suspects in one room and sweating them out until the real killer revealed him or herself.