Blood Game

by Iris Johansen

  “The girl who was murdered? I saw the story on the evening news.” She frowned. “How do you see them? Is it just a fleeting glimpse?”

  “No, they talk to me. Like you, like anyone.” He started to stand up. “I’m done. I’m getting out of here. I sound like the nutcase I probably am.”

  “Wait. Why did you come? What tipped the scales and made you think that maybe I could help you?”

  “Nancy Jo told me that the man who killed her had grabbed her from behind, held a handkerchief over her nose, and knocked her out. The autopsy showed she’d been dosed with ether. It was slim evidence, but I grabbed at it.”

  “I would have done the same,” Megan said. “And that’s not so slim.”

  “Yes, it is. I’d say it’s wishful thinking, but I don’t like either option.”

  “But you’ve already accepted one of them, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Any port in a storm. If you did this to me, can you undo it?”

  She shook her head. “I think you’re stuck with it. But I’ll try to find out.”

  “For God’s sake, don’t you know?”

  “Dammit, I told you. I’m new at this. I didn’t even know I had any so-called psychic talents until a few months ago. I’m certainly no authority, for heaven’s sake. But I’ll call my friend Renata Wilger in Munich, and see if she knows someone who can help you.”

  “Another psychic voodoo priestess?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. Renata is a distant cousin, and she’s sort of an agent for a family business. But she has contacts.”

  “What family? It sounds like the Mafia.”

  “No. It’s the Devanez family.” She hesitated. She’d have to tell him. She owed him the whole truth. “It’s a very old family and some of the members have certain . . . talents.”

  “A whole family of freaks? What the hell am I getting into?”

  “Look, I know this is difficult for you. Well, it’s not easy for me.” She didn’t blame him for being impatient. Her explanation would probably not make it any more acceptable. “I found out I was a member of the Devanez family at the same time I learned I was one of these ‘freaks’ you’re talking about. The Devanezes were originally landholders in southern Spain. In 1485, they fled Spain to escape the Inquisition. The local peasants had gone to their priests and accused the family of every form of witchcraft from predicting the future to shape changing. Some of it was sheer superstition, but there was no doubt the family had certain talents. The family scattered to practically every corner of the civilized world and went into hiding. But Jose, the head of the family, believed in strength in Unity, and didn’t want the family to lose contact with each other. He created a ledger that listed names, addresses, even talents, of family members, and sent it out of the country with his brother, Miguel. Since then there’s always been a keeper of the ledger who visits around the world and keeps track of the family.” She paused. “And problems that we might be having because of any gift we might have.”

  “And Renata Wilger can contact this damn keeper of the ledger and find me help?”

  “Renata is the keeper of the ledger.” She added quietly, “And she’s my friend. She’ll do whatever she can.”

  “I hate having to rely on you, or her, or anyone else.” His tone was edged with frustration. “I don’t want this. I’m clutching at straws. I don’t want anything to do with your mumbo jumbo.”

  “Then walk away from me. Go to a psychiatrist. I’m sure that he’d tell you that after a few hundred sessions you wouldn’t see any more spirits. Or maybe you’ll just learn to ignore them.”

  He was silent. “Do you think I’m imagining them?”

  “No, I think you’re too hardheaded to imagine anything.” She made a face. “I think I zapped you.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “It just shows how far gone I am that that statement fills me with relief.”

  She got to her feet. “I’ll call Renata. I need someone a hell of a lot more knowledgeable than I am to tell you what to do. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “I’ll tell you where to start,” Joe said. “I want you to come with me to Allatoona.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “I want you to tell me if you hear Nancy Jo Norris and what she tells you about what happened to her. As long as I’m able to extract information from a victim, I might as well make use of her.”

  “Very professional. Is that all?”

  “No.” He hesitated, then said bluntly, “This weirdness scares the hell out of me. I don’t know how to handle it. I want company.”

  FIVE

  JOE FLASHED HIS BADGE AT the police officer on guard duty at the Allatoona crime scene. “We’re just going to have a look around. We won’t be long.” He nodded for Megan to go ahead. “I see the TV trucks are still here.”

  The officer nodded. “They’re hoping to shoot some more footage of Senator Norris. It was like a circus here a few hours ago. They were on him like bees after honey.”

  Not a good simile. There had been nothing honey-sweet about Ed Norris. His bitterness had been machete-sharp. Who could blame him?

  He caught up with Megan. He pointed to the chalked outline. “That’s where we found her.”

  “I don’t think that’s where he killed her,” Megan said. “It feels . . . wrong.”

  “Why? Do you hear anything?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. It just isn’t right. Where did you see her?”

  “In those trees. It was dusk.”

  Now it was dark, and the shadows of the trees made the darkness seem heavy, forbidding.

  “Sad. She’s so sad,” Megan murmured. “She’s beginning to understand.”

  Joe turned to look at her. “Echoes?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. Something different.” She moved toward the trees. “I think that’s where she died. Not there by the lake. Is that possible?”

  “Yes, we’ll know when we get the forensic report.” He followed her into the darkness.

  He could feel the tension beginning to grip him. Stupid. He was looking straight ahead, afraid to gaze to the right or left. Afraid of what he’d see.

  “It’s suspected of being a ritual killing,” he said. “The bastard could have killed her here, stripped her, and carried her out to the bank for his ceremony.”

  “I think that’s what probably happened.” Megan’s gaze was traveling around the woods. “There’s . . . fear here.”

  “Then why can’t you hear her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to hear her. Or it could be I’m still numb from listening to the children on that island in the swamp. Perhaps they’re getting in the way.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘maybes.’”

  “It’s the best I can do.” She glanced at him. “You asked me to come here, but I’m not helping much, am I?”

  “No. I wanted you to hear her. I wanted you to give me some wise revelation that would prove I’m not completely bananas.” He shrugged. “But you did the next best thing. She hasn’t made an appearance. You may have scared her off. That’s pretty valuable too.”

  “Then may we leave now? This sadness is overpowering.”

  “I guess we might as well.” He gave another glance around, then started to turn to go. “To tell you the truth, I have to admit I’m relieved that—”

  “ Don’t you dare leave me.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  Blond hair, red collegiate sweatshirt, blue eyes blazing at him. Nancy Jo Norris stood at the edge of the trees, blocking their path.

  “What is it?” Megan was gazing at Joe’s face.

  “The resident spirit of the wood.” He had to be flip because he was feeling that same sense of panic he’d felt before. “You don’t see her?”

  “No.” Her gaze was following Joe’s to the place where Nancy Jo stood. “Nothing.”

  “Stop ignoring me,” Nancy Jo said. “Of course she can’t see me. No one can see me. Not eve
n Daddy. I tried and tried to talk to him, and he didn’t hear me, didn’t see me. I reached out and touched him, tried to hug him, and he didn’t even feel it.” She was blinking back tears. “He was hurting and I wanted to help him but he couldn’t feel me.”

  “I can’t solve your problem, Nancy Jo,” Joe said. “I don’t know anything about this.” He turned to Megan. “Do something.”

  She shook her head. “She’s your ghost. I can’t even hear her echoes. You’ll have to deal with her.”

  Nancy Jo was glaring at Megan. “Is she some kind of ghost hunter? Is that why you brought her?” she asked bitterly. “I used to watch TV shows about ghost hunters. My roommate, Chelsea, and I used to make fun of them.”

  “So did I,” Joe said. “I’m not laughing now.”

  “Neither am I,” Nancy Jo said. “I don’t care if she’s a ghost hunter or not. I wish she could see me. I’m so lonely.”

  “Why are you still here? Isn’t there some light or something you should be walking toward?” Damn he sounded stupid. But how the hell did you talk to a ghost?

  “I don’t know. They keep telling me I have to leave, that I’ll be fine once I go.”

  “Who are ‘they’?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t listen to them. I have to stay here. It shouldn’t have happened. I wanted to live. He had no right to take it from me.” She shuddered. “Do you know what he did? He drank my blood. My blood is in him, feeding him. I can’t stand the thought of that. It makes me angry. He shouldn’t be alive when I’m dead.”

  “Look, if it will help, I’ll promise you that I’ll catch that bastard.”

  “I don’t believe you. You just want me to go away. I won’t go away.”

  “I’m a cop. It’s my job to find who killed you. It doesn’t matter if you go away or not. I’ll still get the job done.”

  She studied his face. “I don’t think you’re lying to me. But I have to be sure that he doesn’t live. He stole my blood. He stole my life.”

  “I can’t do more than give you my word. Go off and do what ‘they’ say and let me get to work.”

  “You’re pissed at me.”

  “Hell, yes. I feel sorry for you, I want to help you, but you’re making my life damn miserable. Yes, I’m pissed at you.”

  “I guess that’s better than being afraid of me. People are supposed to be afraid of ghosts.”

  “I had a few moments.”

  “That’s too bad.” She added defiantly, “But since you seem to be the only one who can see or hear me, you’re stuck with me.”

  “The hell I am.”

  “You have to help me.” Her voice vibrated with intensity. “I can’t do it by myself. I would if I could.” She hesitated, then said, “My father is angry. If you don’t find this monster, Daddy is going to do it himself. How do I know that he won’t kill my father too?”

  What could he say to that? Joe thought in frustration. He could argue that she should leave revenge to him, but what about protecting the one you love? He could understand that motivation with all his mind and heart. Shielding and caring for Eve had been the rule that had driven him all these years. He was becoming more involved with Nancy Jo with every word she spoke.

  Involved with a ghost? What was he thinking? “‘If’? I will find him, and your father will stay out of the picture.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’m going now.” He held up his hand as she started to speak. “I can’t stay here having séances with you. I have a job to do.”

  “But I want to help you. I need to do it.”

  “Then tell me who did this. Do you have a name?”

  She shook her head. “He said he was my savior. He said I should be grateful. He kept saying ‘Gift to Gift.’”

  “What did he look like?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “What did he—”

  “I’m trying to remember. I was so scared . . . Gray eyes, short, close-cut dark hair. White at the temples. A Roman nose, sort of hooked.”

  “Tall. Short?”

  “Medium. But he was burly, strong, biceps like a weight lifter.”

  “Car?”

  “I only caught a glimpse of it after I woke up. It was parked at the edge of the woods.” She frowned, thinking. “It was a big car. Light-colored. I think it might have been a Lincoln Town Car.”

  “New? Old?”

  “Old. I don’t think the new Lincolns are that big.” She shook her head. “I only had a glimpse.” She closed her eyes. “And I was so scared.”

  “I can see that you were. But you’re doing well.”

  “Thank you.” Her lids opened, and she tried to smile. “After all, I have to please you. You appear to be the only game in town.”

  Joe again felt that strong surge of sympathy. She wasn’t much younger than his Jane. He wanted to reach out and—Hell, he couldn’t even do that.

  I’m so lonely, she had said.

  “I’m going to leave now. I’ll come back if I have any more questions.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know if I can come to you. I don’t know how it works. I’m going to have to experiment.” She looked at Megan. “She’s not afraid of me. You can bring her with you if you like.”

  “That’s up to her. I thought she might help.” He started to turn away, then said, “The knife. Was there anything different about it?”

  “The knife . . .” Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I’m afraid to—”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to remember.”

  “Yes, I do. My heart was beating so hard. I was trying to get out of the ropes. He held up the knife and showed it to me. He said ‘Gift to Gift.’ Then he sliced across—Blood. I’m bleeding. He has a cup, and he’s pressing it to my throat. What’s he—”

  “Enough,” Joe said curtly. “You’ve said enough.”

  “No, you want to know what it looked like. But it’s hard to get past the pain.” She was breathing hard. “It’s a dagger. It looks . . . black in the shadows. The handle has some kind of carving. A man with a knife. A man with a goblet. Or maybe I’m getting mixed up. My blood is . . . I’m getting weaker . . .”

  “Stop it, Nancy Jo. Enough.”

  She nodded jerkily. “Too much. Go away. I don’t want you to see me this way. I don’t want anyone to know how scared he made me. I think he liked it.”

  “He probably did. Most serial killers enjoy a feeling of power.”

  “So clinical. You’re going by the book. Generic-case types. Well, he wasn’t generic,” she said fiercely. “He was a monster who drank my blood. Go away and don’t come back until you’ve found him.”

  “Right. Whatever you say.” He wheeled and strode toward the edge of the woods.

  “CONVERATI ON OVER?” MEGAN was hurrying to catch up with him. “Are you going to tell me what it was about? I only heard your side.”

  “She’s lonely. She wants to keep her father from being a victim if he goes after her killer. She wants revenge against the bastard who slit her throat, and then drank her blood.” He was walking fast, carefully not looking back at the woods. “And for a dead girl, she seems very much alive and very human. She’s not tough like Jane, but I kept thinking that if Jane hadn’t grown up on the streets, she might have turned out like Nancy Jo. Same determination, same affectionate nature.”

  Megan was silent until they reached the car. “Then you’re convinced that she’s not a figment of your imagination?”

  “Hell, no. I don’t know if I’ll ever be certain. But I’m operating on that assumption since I can’t do anything else. I made my decision that I refuse to believe I’m crazy and that leaves only the option to accept and use this damn thing that’s happened to me.”

  “You’re quite a man, Joe Quinn,” Megan said quietly. “I don’t believe many people would handle all that’s happened to you this well.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Joe. I tried my best not to hurt anyone.”

  “Your best wasn’t good e
nough.” He opened the car door for her. “But I’m going to let you make amends. I don’t know a tinker’s damn about this spook business.” He shook his head. “Who the hell does know anything? Does our friend, Renata?”

  “When I called her, she said she’d look into it and get back to me.”

  “Then she’d better get back to you quick. I have questions to ask.”

  “You may have to find out the answers yourself. After all, you’re the one who can talk to them.”

  “I’m not going to go along with that. Nancy Jo didn’t seem to know much more than I do.” He got into the driver’s seat and started the car. “And one of the questions is why you didn’t hear any echoes.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Megan said. “Echoes come from empty spaces. Maybe there would be no echoes if the spirit hadn’t passed on and left the place where the death had occurred. Nancy Jo is refusing to go anywhere, so she leaves no lingering echo.”

  Joe was silent a moment. “What about Bonnie? You said that you heard no echoes from Bonnie on that island. Could she have been killed on that island, and you didn’t hear an echo because she refused to pass on?”

  “It’s possible. I hope so. Then I wouldn’t feel guilty about not doing what Eve will probably ask me to do.” She looked at him. “You’re going to have to talk to Eve about seeing Bonnie.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “But not yet. Bonnie is the center of Eve’s world. Hell, every day revolves around her. I’ve got to get a handle on this mess before I bring her into the picture. That could open a whole new can of worms.”

  Megan nodded. “I can understand how you’d hesitate. I’d be very careful the way I let Eve know I’d seen her daughter.” She glanced back out the window. “I’ll help you get all the information you need. I’ll come when you call me. But Eve’s my friend, and I won’t let you keep this from her for long. She’s worried, and it’s not fair.”

  “I didn’t expect anything else.” His tone hardened. “But you owe me, Megan. You let me do it my way.”

  “I’ll try. But you’d better start breaking it to her about Nancy Jo right away.”