Witch Confidential

by Lily Harper Hart

  Ofelia wanted to ask how he knew where Sully was, but it didn’t seem important given the grave expression on the man’s face.

  “What did you want to tell me?” Sully asked.

  “I’m still not done talking,” Angelique groused.

  Ofelia shot her a warning look and focused on Bernie.

  “The shadow is back,” Bernie announced gravely. “I saw it last night.”

  “Out of the corner of your eye again?” Angelique challenged.

  Bernie nodded. “It was hanging around Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo, tracking the tourists.”

  He was so serious Ofelia’s heart gave a little heave. “Did you see it take anybody?”

  “No. It was hunting, though. I know it.”

  Ofelia licked her lips. “An evil shadow, huh?”

  “Do you think you can figure out what that is?” Sully asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess it can’t hurt to do a little research, though.”

  “That’s great,” Angelique drawled after a beat when no one spoke again. “Now do you want to listen to me? I don’t know about any shadow, but I’m telling you the magic in this area is suddenly wonky. That’s what happened in the weeks before Katrina.

  “Shadow or no shadow, something bad is about to happen,” she continued. “You’d better prepare yourselves, because the streets are about to run red with blood ... and I don’t think there’s anything that we can do about it.”

  Nine

  Ofelia promised to research evil shadows — even though it was a little too vague for her liking — before excusing herself. She had a business to run and the evening was closing in. That meant work ... and saying goodbye to Sully.

  “I’ll try to stop by later if I can,” he offered lamely as they stood on the corner together. Angelique and Bernie were still comparing notes on the bench. Despite Angelique’s rudeness, Bernie seemed enraptured with her.

  “You don’t have to.” Ofelia stared at her feet a moment, wishing she could think of something cooler to say. “I know you probably have other things to do.”

  “Right now this case takes precedence.”

  “Right.”

  “And I kind of like hanging out with you,” Sully added.

  Ofelia lifted her eyes and grinned. Now it was his turn to feel self-conscious. “Well, that will be nice. My father has been in charge all day, though. I really need to get back. With my luck, he’ll have rearranged the tables and stolen my kitten. Speaking of that, I need to stop at the pet store on my way home. I need real supplies.”

  The admission was enough to settle Sully. “Does that mean you’re keeping him?”

  “That means ... I have a soft spot for strays,” she said finally. “When I was a kid, I brought every animal I found on the street home, whether they belonged to someone or not.”

  “Did your parents let you keep them?”

  “Not a single one.”

  “So ... this will be your first pet?”

  “Felix had a snake when we were growing up. My mother ultimately made him get rid of it because it escaped from the cage once and she found it sunning itself in the living room. That’s about it, though. My parents are not animal lovers.”

  “Then why do you think your father stole your new cat?”

  “Because he can’t seem to keep his mitts off my stuff. That’s simply who he is.”

  “Ah.” He held her gaze for an extended beat. “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you tonight. Don’t name the kitten until I can help you pick out the right one. He’ll never come if he doesn’t like his name.”

  “Oh, really?” The thought amused her. “Are you saying you can communicate with him and he’ll tell you what name he wants?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Good to know. I ... um ... should go.” She was reluctant to tear herself away from him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Keep digging. There’s not much else I can do. We can’t do DNA comparisons without more potential names. That will be my priority this afternoon.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Right back at you.”

  OSCAR WAS INDEED REARRANGING THINGS when Ofelia returned to Krewe, her arms laden with items from the pet store. She’d gone a little overboard, but she was nothing if not a consummate shopper.

  “What are you doing?” she barked when she saw her father had his measuring tape out.

  “Don’t be so loud,” Oscar complained, removing the pencil he had lodged behind his ear and jotting down something on a legal pad. “I’m in the middle of something.”

  That was exactly what Ofelia was worried about. “You’re not changing anything,” she warned, carrying the bags toward the stairs that led to her apartment. “I have things exactly how I like them.”

  “Except I think I found a better table configuration. If we change things like this, we can fit another three tables in.” He shifted the pad so Ofelia could look at it. Right away, she knew she hated what he was planning.

  “No.”

  “You haven’t even really looked at it,” he complained.

  “I said no.”

  Oscar narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. “What’s all that?”

  “It’s stuff for the cat.”

  “I thought you weren’t keeping him.”

  “You said that. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Oh, really?” Oscar had one of those faces that expressed every thought. “You have two hundred dollars’ worth of cat stuff and yet you don’t know if you’re keeping him?”

  “I like to be prepared.” Ofelia used her foot to prop open the door. “I’ll be back down in thirty minutes. If a single table has been moved when I get back, we’re going to have words.”

  “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Oscar muttered.

  “I mean it.”

  “Did I say I was going to move a table?”

  “That drawing seems to indicate that you’re going to move all the tables. I’m going to be really mad if you try.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Oscar waved off the threat, something occurring to him. “Where is your boyfriend?”

  Ofelia averted her eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend. What are you even talking about?”

  “Oh, you’re a horrible liar. You always have been. When you were a kid, I didn’t even have to bribe you to tattle on your brother. You were simply so bad at lying that I knew the truth no matter how hard you tried. The cop. Where is he?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend ... and I’m an excellent liar when I want to be. I just so happen to believe it’s not necessary to lie.”

  “And that was another bad lie.” Oscar shook his head. “The cop might not be your boyfriend yet, but it’s obviously happening. Before it does, I think we should talk about the pros and cons of such a union. We can make a list.”

  “Ugh.” Ofelia made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. “You know how much I hate your lists.”

  “They’re still helpful. You should never make a big decision without a list.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but your lists are not going to inform my dating decisions. Besides ... I don’t even know if we’re going to date. We’re kind of busy looking for a murderer right now.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re not going to date.”

  “He might never ask.”

  “Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Oscar lamented. “He’s definitely going to ask.”

  Exasperation wormed through Ofelia’s chest and grabbed her by the throat. “Why do you even care? Last time I checked, as an adult, it’s up to me who I want to date. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You’re my daughter and I want to see you happy.”

  “What makes you think I wouldn’t be happy with Sully? Not that we’re going to date or anything,” she added hastily. “That’s still up in the air.”

  Oscar knew better than that. “And there’s that wonderful lying skill of yours again.” He clucked his tongue. “Go check on your c
at. We’ll talk about the cop later.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  SULLY SPENT THE AFTERNOON COMPILING A LIST of women who went missing in the year leading up to Katrina. He was hampered by the fact that he couldn’t be certain street performers would actually make the list. There was a bias toward some of them — although not everyone on the force felt the same way — and it was possible, even if someone cared enough to report a street kid missing, that the report might never be filed. The reality of that made him sick to his stomach.

  It was after six o’clock when he knocked off for the day and headed out. His first thought was to return home and rest, but his heart tugged him in a different direction. Rather than return to his comfortable apartment and stare at the walls, he opted to pick up takeout for Ofelia and himself. He was hopeful he would be able to pull her away from work long enough to spend a little time with her, even if all they discussed was the case.

  He was trying to pick a restaurant — Ofelia preferred authentic creole food to some of the imitation stuff sold on Bourbon Street — when someone called his name. He turned away from perusing a street menu and found Daisy standing on the corner, wide-eyed surprise coating her features.

  “Hello.” Sully plastered a smile on his face. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “I almost missed you, too.” The words were almost a purr as she sidled closer. “Um ... is there any news on the dead girl?”

  “A little.” Sully filled her in. He figured since she’d discovered the body, he owed her at least that. “Have you talked to your father at all?”

  “He’s in Europe. I talked to him briefly, but he’s busy with other concerns. He basically told me to stop whining and handle it.” Her smiled faltered. “I think he would’ve preferred having a son. He always says I’m too emotional.”

  Sully’s heart went out to her. “Are you an only child?”

  She bobbed her head. “Yeah. My parents tried for a boy for years. They even considered getting a surrogate when my mother got too old, but then she developed cancer and ... other things became more important. After she died, my father decided to suck it up and groom me. I’m still not certain he believes he made the right decision.”

  Since Sully was familiar with familial disappointment, he simply nodded. “Trust me. I know. My parents were angry when I decided to join the Academy. They didn’t want me to become a police officer.”

  “Well, that’s a little different,” she hedged. “You’re in a line of work that could claim your life. My father simply believes that boys are smarter than girls. On top of that, he’s convinced that women are too emotional to run a boardroom.”

  “He told you that?” Sully’s temper flared. “That’s ... mean. Is that why you were in an abandoned building after hours by yourself?”

  Daisy turned rueful. “Guilty as charged. I’m trying to come up with a project plan that will truly impress him. Instead, I stumbled over a dead body ... which led to more dead bodies. We’re in the newspapers for all the wrong reasons.”

  “He can’t possibly blame you for that.”

  “Well, he does. It was my idea to buy the building in the first place.”

  Sully considered what Ofelia had told him about the location and opted to tread lightly. “What do you have in mind for that space?”

  “Well, it’s actually a big deal.” Daisy pressed her lips together and glanced at the menu Sully had been perusing only moments before. “Maybe we could have dinner and I’ll lay it out for you?”

  “Oh, well ... you don’t have to.”

  “Actually, I would love to get the opinion of someone who doesn’t know me or my father. This is my first big project and ... well ... you’ve been really nice. If you have other plans, it’s okay. I’m just on my own tonight and it’s always more fun to have dinner with another person than to stare at an empty chair.”

  When she phrased it like that, Sully realized he would look like a jerk if he turned her down. “Dinner sounds great.” His heart wasn’t in it, but he was already coming up with a backup plan. Maybe dinner with Ofelia was out. That didn’t mean he couldn’t take her dessert.

  “SO, BASICALLY YOU’RE SAYING YOU WANT to turn the entire building into the quintessential New Orleans experience,” Sully said an hour later, running the idea Daisy had pitched through his mind.

  “That’s kind of simplistic, but yeah.” The more she talked, the more enthusiastic Daisy felt. “The first floor would be for occult books. Those are always a big draw. The tourists love them.

  “The second floor would be a storefront,” she continued, barely taking a breath. “I decided on putting it on the second floor because it would be more of a draw and force people to walk through the books even if they weren’t initially interested.”

  “I guess it makes sense.” Sully didn’t know a lot about retail. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his iced tea. Unlike Daisy, he’d shunned alcohol for their meal. He wanted his mind to be sharp when he saw Ofelia. “What kind of stuff are you going to have in the store?”

  “The usual stuff. T-shirts, tarot cards, alligator skulls, masks, voodoo dolls, basically the works. We’re also going to bring in a world-class psychic because those are always popular.”

  “Right.” Personally, Sully had always been uncomfortable around psychics. Most of the ones in the city were frauds, but there were a few legitimate ones, and he always wondered if they were probing his mind. Worse, he could only imagine what sort of ridiculous stuff they saw when they were in there.

  For example, would his love of football make him look empty-headed? Would his attraction to Ofelia make him look like a pervert? Would his hatred of romantic comedies make him look like a sociopath? These were the things he wondered about.

  “What about the third floor?” he queried, casting his eyes to the clock on the wall. Dinner had already stretched longer than he anticipated, but he’d been unable to prod Daisy into calling an end to their evening no matter how hard he tried.

  “That would be storage and business offices. Oh, and probably a lounge for the workers to take their breaks.”

  “It sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

  “I have.” Daisy’s eyes sparkled. “I want to be a success and show my father that I know what I’m doing. Unfortunately for me, the project is going to be behind before it even gets started because it’s a crime scene right now.”

  “Sorry about that.” Sully held out his hands and shrugged. “I would like to turn it back over to you, but we’re not done processing for evidence.”

  “Oh, I’m not blaming you.” Daisy turned wistful. “I can’t help but wonder about that poor girl I found. What do you think she was doing up there?”

  “I’m not sure. All we know is that she was a street performer.”

  “Maybe she went up there on a date or something and things got out of hand. You know, like a crime of passion.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You don’t think that, though, do you?”

  “I think that’s unlikely,” Sully replied after a beat. “The thing is, that building is an afterthought right now. If you have your way, you’ll turn it around and make it a real showplace. I really hope you can manage it because it’s a piece of prime real estate basically rotting in the center of the city.

  “Even those people who are regularly in that area don’t pay attention to that building, though,” he continued. “The entrance to the stairwell is hidden. You have to go by a hotel and a bar to get to it. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to pick that spot if you’re looking for a place to hook up.”

  “Especially since that bar attracts scumbags,” Daisy said, a dark look crossing her pleasing features. She was a cute woman, pretty and put together. There was nothing exotic about her, though.

  For some reason, the statement grated on Sully’s nerves. “I’ve been in that bar. It’s nice.”

  “Have you ever looked at the people who freq
uent that place?” Daisy was on a roll now and she obviously missed the distressed look on Sully’s face. “They dress like morons. Some of them even wear witch hats. I once saw a guy wearing a cape go in there, like it was a costume party or something.”

  “This is New Orleans. Everyone dresses up like it’s a costume party.”

  “Yeah, but these people are visiting a bar that happens to only be accessible through a tunnel,” Daisy pointed out. “Don’t you think that means something nefarious is going on there?”

  “No. It’s just a normal bar.” Sully knew that was pretty far from the truth but there was no way he would agree with Daisy. Not only did it feel disloyal to Ofelia, but he didn’t happen to agree. In the grand scheme of things, despite the paranormal regulars at the bar, Krewe was pretty staid.

  “Well, I don’t like it,” Daisy sniffed, sipping her martini. “Once I get my place up and running I’m going to try and buy that place so I can expand. I don’t know what I’m going to put in there, but anything is better than a bar.”

  Sully bristled. “Krewe is family-owned. They’re not going to sell.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that. I bet I can get them to sell. Everybody has a price.”

  “Not everybody. I ... .” He trailed off when he saw a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye and shifted so he could look at the man standing next to the bar. When he realized who he was looking at — Felix with a takeout bag in his hand — his heart sank. “Hey.” The greeting slipped out before he could think better of it.

  “Hello.” Felix’s voice was cold. “Funny seeing you here ... and on a date.”

  “This isn’t a date,” Sully said quickly.

  “Well, it’s kind of a date,” Daisy hedged. “I admit, that’s why I asked you to dinner. I wanted to turn it into a date.”

  Sully’s cheeks colored and the thing he wanted most in the world was to go back in time and pick a different road to walk down. “It wasn’t a date,” he repeated, firm. “In fact ... I was planning on getting some dessert and swinging by Krewe.”