by Mark Stone
Roman seemed to read her mind as they walked into the ramshackle looking seafood joint with painted wood furnishings and a metal roof that Jessie imagined practically sang with the rain.
“You could drop this place right onto Sanibel and it’d fit right in,” Roman said, smiling as they made their way to a hostess.
Jessie imagined they would have to be seated and wait for Rachel to join them, but in truth, the hostess told them that the weird lady who always tells everyone how they’re going to die had already gotten a table and left word for her to show Jessie and Roman to it.
When they reached the table, a prime location right by a window that overlooked the water, they found that Rachel had ordered for the table. While her look and job might have been strange and unique, her taste in food certainly wasn’t. The famous low country boil had been spilled out onto the paper tablecloth in front of them, juices and seasoning from the shrimp, crab legs, corn on the cob, and roasted whole potatoes staining it.
For her part, Rachel was in the middle of one of the biggest crab legs Jessie had ever seen. There was something about watching a woman all dolled up in black with pale skin and purple streaks in her hair taking down a crab leg like a champ that almost made Jessie laugh out loud. Luckily, she managed to contain herself by the time she reached the table.
“What took you so long?” Rachel said, pulling the crab leg from her lips and dipping what remained in drawn butter. “I was starting to think you were going to stand me up.”
“You said a couple of hours,” Roman said, plopping down in a chair across from her and throwing his elbows on the table like he had never been told not to. “That’s how long you said it would take to sanitize the aura or whatever. It’s only been an hour and a half.”
“I cleansed the energy. What you said doesn’t even make any sense,” Rachel replied, rolling her eyes. “And what can I say? I’m better at it than even I give myself credit for.”
“That must be a hell of a skillset,” Jessie muttered, sitting down herself. “Well, we’re here. It’s time to talk.”
Rachel sat back in her chair, knitting her fingers together in front of her navel, which was now exposed, given the length of her top and the way she was stretching. “You don’t even want to try it?” She motioned to the food. “It’s kind of amazing.”
“It’s very amazing,” Roman said, his voice muffled. When Jessie turned to him, she found her partner had already started digging into the mounds and mounds of food. “Oh, like this comes as a surprise to you,” Roman said, reading his partner’s judgmental expression.
“I’ll eat when I have the information,” Jessie said. “That’s my main course.”
“All work and no play,” Rachel muttered. “And he seems to be a bucket of laughs when he’s not doubting my life’s work. No wonder the two of you are meant for each other.”
“We’re not meant for each other,” Jessie and Roman said at the same time, though Roman’s words were barely distinguishable, given the amount of shrimp he’d managed to stuff into his mouth.
“Tell it to the Lovers,” Rachel said, shaking her head.
“We’re not the Lovers,” Jessie said, pursing her lips. “I know you believe in that and that all those cards are prophetic to you or whatever, but you misread that one. I promise.”
“Whatever you say,” Rachel replied. “I’m sure your stubborn nature will be enough to thwart fate.”
“Dammit,” Jessie said, grabbing a shrimp and popping it into her mouth. She had to admit, even if no one was asking her, that the taste of it was pretty divine. It wasn’t like Florida, but what could be? Still, this was top-notch seafood in her humble opinion. “There. Happy? Can we get on with it now?”
“Ecstatic,” Rachel answered, grabbing a potato. “And sure, though I want you to know how hard this is for me. Lara was my best friend. In a lot of ways, she’s the only real friend I ever had. I know this probably isn’t hard to believe, but I’m not the kind of person who fits in most places. I’m the type of woman that other women tend to steer clear of. Lara never did, though. She never judged me. She was truly one of the kindest and most generous, honest, and gentle people I have ever met. I’m sure, in the short time you knew her, both of you could say the same.”
“She kicked me in the face and she used his name to fraudulently check into a motel,” Jessie said, motioning to Roman. “But I’m sure she was great.”
Rachel blinked hard. “I mean, nobody’s perfect, but she was great. She was a sweetheart and now she’s gone. I just . . . I don’t want to besmirch her memory here. I don’t want to give things away that might make the people who love her, the people who miss her, see her differently. Especially if it turns out that it doesn’t matter.”
“I think I’m understanding you here,” Roman said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You love the girl you knew, and so did everyone else. But the girl you knew isn’t the girl they knew, and maybe they wouldn’t love her as much if they knew that.” He shrugged. “She had secrets. Everyone does. You, me, her, the waitress who is making horrible time bringing me a sweet tea, we all have skeletons in our closets and things we’d rather take to the grave. But you’re not talking to a gossip rag here, Rachel. We’re the police. We’re interested in solving a murder, not bringing down a woman’s legacy. If what you tell us has nothing to do with what actually happened to Lara, then no one has to know about it.”
“And if it does?” Rachel asked, blinking hard.
“Whatever it is, she didn’t deserve to be murdered for it,” Roman said. “There are greater evils at play than whatever your friend did, Rachel. Now, please, for the love of God, tell us what’s going on.”
“Lara was fired from her job,” Rachel said, running a hand through her hair and showcasing that star tattoo on her ear again.
“Delores told us,” Jessie replied.
“Right,” Rachel said. “But what she didn’t tell you was the reason she lost her job.”
“She didn’t mention the reason,” Jessie said, kicking herself for not thinking to dig deeper into that part of things.
“Probably because she didn’t know,” Rachel said. “No one did. Their official word was that there were budget cuts, and since Lara was the last hired, she was the first to go. That’s what Principal Redman said, but the truth was that there were whispers.”
“What kind of whispers?” Jessie asked, forgetting about the food in front of her altogether.
“The kind that would make the news if they were true,” Rachel said, sighing. “There was this student. His name is Duncan Franks. He was on the football team, and a few months ago, so he could keep his grades up enough to retain his spot on the team, Lara started tutoring him.” Rachel fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with what she was saying. “Rumors started that there was something inappropriate going on between them. Duncan had been held back a couple of times, and he was senior, so he was nineteen. It’s not like, if the rumors were true and they were together romantically, Lara would have been breaking any laws, but it still wouldn’t have been good.”
“No, it wouldn’t have,” Roman said, and even he seemed to forget about the shrimp, corn, and potatoes.
“They couldn’t prove it. They never found any hard evidence that Lara and Duncan were together, but the rumors got so bad they started to affect her emotionally. She got distant, got depressed. She couldn’t do her job. The principal must have been getting flack from the parents, too, because Lara got her walking papers not long after everything started.”
“And you’re sure they were just rumors?” Jessie asked, hating the conversation. “You’re sure there’s no truth to them?”
“Here’s the thing,” Rachel muttered, closing her eyes tightly. “Lara swore to me that there was nothing going on. She even stopped tutoring Duncan. Then, last week, I came home to find the two of them in my house. Lara has an extra key. She always used it to let my dog out while I was gone.” She fidgeted again. “They weren’t . . .doing anyt
hing. They were just talking, arguing, actually. I tried to confront Lara about it, but she wouldn’t talk to me. She wouldn’t let me in. The next thing I knew, she was headed down to Florida, and I knew why.”
“Why?” Jessie asked, tensing up.
“Because that’s where Duncan Parks and his family were going on vacation,” she said. “To the same place where you guys said you’re from, to the same place where Lara died.”
“Is Duncan Parks back in Savannah now?” Jessie asked, her hands balling into fists.
“I have no idea,” Rachel admitted. “The last few days have been a blur, but I can give you his address if you want.”
“We definitely do want,” Jessie said.
Rachel moved forward, grabbing her arm. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful. I don’t want whatever is about to happen on my hands.”
“I’m good at my job, Rachel,” Jessie said, looking back at Roman. “We both are.”
“Glad to hear it, but there’s something I didn’t tell you,” Rachel said. “The card I pulled back at the house, the one that caused me to cleanse the energy, it was the Jester.”
“Look,” Jessie sighed. “I get that you—”
“The Jester is nothing to take lightly, Detective,” she shot back. “It is the single most powerful and intense card in the whole Tarot deck.” She swallowed hard. “And it means that this isn’t over. It means that more death is coming.”
16
“You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?” Roman asked as the pair pulled into the driveway of the address Rachel gave them back at the restaurant. It had been awhile since either of them had spoken, with Roman looking out the window at the rolling river while Jessie drove. She had to think for a second to remember just what he was talking about.
“You mean the tarot cards? Of course not,” Jessie said, shaking her head and scrunching her face up as she threw the car in park. “That’s kids’ stuff. It’s what predators use to dupe the weak and unsuspecting. Do I strike you as either one of those things?”
“You do not,” Roman said, pulling the door open and stepping out onto the driveway. The house the pair found themselves in front of was a sprawling Southern masterpiece, a mix between a blown out beach house and an old-school plantation home. Jessie imagined she could walk around that house all day and still not see all of it.
“Why? Do you believe in it?” Jessie asked, looking from the giant mansion to her partner. “You didn’t sound like a believer back in Rachel’s house or in the restaurant.”
“I’m not,” Roman said, shaking his head hard. “It’s just the look on her face when she grabbed your arm was so intense. When she said that more death was coming, it was like she knew it for a fact.”
“Maybe, to her, seeing something in those cards makes it as good as a fact, but you and I know better, Roman,” Jessie said. “We see death all the time. We investigate it every day. I don’t need a tarot card to tell me it’s coming. It’s always coming. People hurt people. People kill each other. It’s what keeps me busy during the day and sleepless at night. Telling me it’s coming is like telling me that the sun will come up tomorrow. Rachel might have believed what she said—she might always believe it—but she never gives any specifics. And I can’t live my life according to fortune cookie speak.” She motioned toward the house. “This address and the information she gave us about Lara’s relationship with the boy who lives here are the only things I took from my meeting with her. The rest of it is garbage. I tossed it away before I walked through the door.”
A smile flashed on Roman’s face. “Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you get all feisty and narrow-minded?”
“Shut up and knock on the door,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes. “We have work to do, and besides, I wouldn’t want Michelle getting jealous.”
“One date,” he said, walking in front of her and up the front steps to ring the doorbell. “We had one date, and you crashed it.”
“Forgive me for saving you,” Jessie said. “She’s a snake.”
“It didn’t feel like I needed saving,” Roman replied, ringing the doorbell.
“Venom always feels warm going in, doesn’t it?” Jessie chuckled.
“You’re being hard on her,” Roman said, shaking his head.
“Maybe, but if I am, I’m just getting even,” Jessie murmured under her breath.
“What?” Roman asked, but before he could answer, the door opened. A sweet looking, middle-aged woman stood on the other side of the door. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and she wore big yellow gloves. The sheen of sweat on her forehead as well as the apron slung across her chest told Jessie that she had very likely been cleaning.
“Are you guys looking for Brendan?” she asked, pulling the gloves off her hands and sighing. “Because if he owes you money, I’m not paying it. I’m done saving that boy’s ass. He’s thirty years old. He can pay his own debts.”
Jessie narrowed her eyes, walking up the steps quickly and extending her hand for the woman to shake. “I can’t say I blame you,” she said as the woman took her hand and shook it. “My mom wouldn’t have paid my debts at fifteen, let alone thirty. I’m not sure who Brendan is, but I’m thinking it might be time for him to stand on his own two feet.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” the woman muttered. “But if you’re not looking for Brendan, then what are you doing here?”
“Looking for Duncan,” Jessie said flatly. “We’d like to talk to him.”
The woman took a step back, eyeing the pair as if she were seeing them in an entirely new light. “Duncan is a child. He’s nineteen. What on earth could the two of you want with him?”
Jessie pulled the badge from her pocket. She was going to introduce herself, but the woman at the door balked before she could continue.
“No!” she shouted. “No, you must have him confused with his brother. Whatever you think Duncan did, I can promise you that his brother Brendan is at fault. Duncan is the sweet one. He hasn’t done anything illegal.”
“I didn’t say he did,” Jessie said, holding her hand out in front of her as a sign that she meant no harm. “We’re not here to arrest him. In fact, we don’t even think he’s done anything. We just want to talk to him about something that happened on Sanibel Island, Florida. We know you went there on vacation and we know Lara Edwards followed you there.”
“Lara Edwards!” the woman shouted. “I should have known this had something to do with her. That woman never touched my son. She never had any sort of romantic relationship with him, not that she didn’t try. She’s a Jezebel, and if he wasn’t the kind of man we’d raised him to be, then he certainly would have folded to it.”
“Listen, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Lara Edwards is dead. She died near Sanibel. We think she might have followed you and your son there,” Jessie said.
The woman’s eyes went wide. “I . . . I did not know that,” she said. “I truly am sorry to hear that, even if she was a manipulative woman who never knew where the lines should be with her students.”
“I appreciate your sympathy,” Jessie said quickly. “If we could just speak to—”
“I’m not sure where you got your information, but it’s bad. We never went to Sanibel Island,” the woman said. “We were going to, but Duncan wasn’t feeling well that day, so we called the trip off. I don’t know who Lara Edwards was following, but it wasn’t our son. He has nothing to hide.”
“Okay,” Jessie said. “If you don’t mind, we’d still like to talk to him, just to clear all of this up. I’m sure you understand.”
“Well,” the woman said, clearing her throat. “Do you have a warrant?”
“Not at present,” Roman said. “But we can get one. We’d have to bring your son’s questionable relationship with a dead woman to the attention of a judge, but we can.”
The woman looked over at Roman with a gaping jaw.
“Look, what is your name?” Jessie asked.
“Karen,” she said simply.
“Okay, Karen. I need you to listen to me,” Jessie said in a much softer voice. “We believe you. You say your son is a sweet, good person. I’m sure he is. You say his relationship with Lara Edwards wasn’t romantic. I’m sure you’re right. If he really has nothing to hide, then just let us talk to him. All of this will be over soon. I promise you, it’s the easiest way out of this for you.”
The woman stared at her for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. “Just give me a minute. I’ll let him know you're here.”
“That’s a smart decision. Thank you,” Jessie said right before the woman closed the door.
“What do you think?” Roman asked. “You think the kid slept with her?”
“Roman!” Jessie said, shaking her head. “We’ll find out exactly what was going on as soon as he comes out. Simple as that.”
As she spoke, they heard the garage door opening. Looking over at it, they saw a motorcycle zip out with a man driving it. Neither had any doubt about who that man was.
“Maybe not as simple as you thought,” Roman said. “Looks like our guy is running for it.”
“Fair enough,” Jessie said, racing back to the car. “I guess that means we’re chasing.”
Jessie slid into the car with Roman only seconds behind her. Her heart pumped fast, her mind swam in adrenaline, and her muscles seemed to act without her even giving them permission. Sliding the car into drive, she slid around in the large driveway, catching sight of Duncan as he took a hard right onto the road.