Murder, Ye Bones Page 10

  She looked at me thoughtfully. “When I heard about the skeletons in the wall, I was hoping you would find Franny,” she said softly. “Then I was hoping you wouldn’t.” She looked away for a minute. “They said that the housekeeper kept a book, the Voodoo Queen.” Maman Brigitte licked her lips. “The townspeople marched on the place in the seventies not long after Franny went missing. It was the day after they found the Rigdon girl’s body.

  “Nellie?” I asked.

  “Could have been, or it could have been her twin. I could never really tell them apart. You won’t find this written down, but they dragged the housekeeper out to the cemetery wall, where they hanged her. Before she died, she cursed the house. She said that others would find her ‘book.’ And she would come back, and all the beautiful young girls would die. I didn’t believe any of it. I thought it was nothing but fodder for the tourists but now the girls have started disappearing again.” Maman looked toward the door, as if assuring herself that they were alone then leaned closer and whispered, “The housekeeper’s book exists, and someone is using it again. Find the person with the book, and you’ll stop the murders.”

  Cat came back in then, walking as smoothly and gracefully as an island breeze, her smile as brilliant as the sun. She was carrying a silver tray with a coffee service, a cup of tea and a plate of fresh baked muffins. “Here we are. Maman Brigitte, I have your tea right here. Oh…! I should have asked. Would either of you prefer tea?” She asked Carlos and me.

  “Coffee is great, thank you,” I said.

  As Cat started serving, Maman Brigitte pointed to a painting on the wall. “That’s the old Rua do Meio, done in the nineteen fifties after I moved here. Scenic, isn’t it?” she asked. She was directing the conversation away from the murders. Carlos might be fooled, but I was very aware that Maman Brigitte didn’t want to speak in front of her great-niece.

  As soon as I politely could, I made our excuses and dragged Carlos out.

  “Well?” I asked the minute we were back on the sidewalk. “Did you notice Maman Brigitte doesn’t trust Cat.”

  “Oh, please,” he protested, looking back toward the house. “You women are so catty!”

  “Carlos! I am not catty. I’m…suspicious.”

  “Suspicious… ridiculous, Penny. Come on, get real. This is the work of psycho. How can you possibly accuse Cat?”

  I shook my head and started walking more quickly. “You’re just blind ‘cause you’re hot for her.”

  “Right?! Well, it’s pretty obvious that she’s having an affair with Raul Oliveira,” Carlos said, hurrying to catch up with me. “So, what do you think? She ditches Maman Brigitte, lures young women with some kind of drug, kills them, attempts to raise them from the dead—and then sleeps with the cop in charge of the case to get information?”

  “Sounds plausible to me.” My cell phone started ringing and I quickly pulled it out of my pocket, expecting it to be Cody or Daemon calling to say that they were finished at the cabin with the M.E.

  But it was Izzy.

  “Pen, can you get over to the resort quickly? Please?”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, wondering why Izzy sounded so upset. “Why?” I asked.

  “Just hurry, please,” Izzy said. “Danior’s been attacked.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

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  W esley shook his head sadly as he knelt down beside the trunk. “She’s definitely deceased.”

  “Yes, thank you for that. I was wondering when she’d wake up.” Daemon teased.

  Wesley ignored him, opening his pathology kit. “I’ll take a tissue sample—we should be able to get DNA, and that’s what you want to know, right?”

  “Yes, and how about how she died,” Daemon said. “Like if there were drugs in her system.”

  Wesley groaned. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Where’s the Inspector?” Cody asked. “We can’t call for the meat wagon without the cops.”

  “He should have been here by now,” Daemon said. “I’ll call him.”

  Daemon reached for his phone, but as he did so, it began to ring.

  It was Oliveira.

  “Is Wesley there with you now?”

  “Yeah, we just got here. Where are you?”

  “Tell him I’ll call him in a minute, and leave him to handle things,” Oliveira said with no preamble. “There’s been another incident and I need you to meet me at my office now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  _____________

  “B agels and cream cheese are over there,” I murmured to the woman in front of me. “There’s fresh fruit and cream for the coffee in the fridge. Help yourself.”

  After hearing of Danior’s attack, I wanted to rush to her side but instead found myself filling in for her at the Plantation while she recovered in the hospital. She’d been adamant she was fine and begged me to help Yasmin out instead, which truthfully, she needed. The main house had reopened and without Danior and Emilion to help out, things were a bit chaotic.

  “Self-serve?” The woman in front of me questioned, as she set about daubing strawberry cream cheese onto a blueberry bagel. “I thought we could expect cooked meals?” She paused with a clean butter knife dipped in the herb spread and slathered it over an onion bagel and topped with salmon—guaranteed to taste like regret later.

  “Just for today while we’re getting everything back on track. Dinner will be served in the dining room.”

  I had just finished securing a client’s reservation over the phone when Cat Nascimento approached the front desk. She must have seen the look in my eyes, because she hurried to speak. “I’m sorry, but I heard about Danior, and I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I never should have let her leave like that.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “She was with me last night,” Cat explained.

  “Oh?” I said, still confused.

  “Danior ran into me at a bar on Rua do Meio. She was downing rum and pineapple juice really fast. She seemed all right, though—just upset with Emilion. And then she got a call before she left, so I was sure she was meeting up with him again…. But with everything going on, I never should have let her leave alone.”

  I nodded and smiled. “Thank you. She’s going to be alright.”

  “Good. Thanks, by the way, for coming by Maman Brigette’s house. It was a nice distraction for her. Anyway, I should go,” Cat said, and with a jovial wave, she was gone.

  “What the hell was that all about—really?” Izzy asked.

  “She wanted to apologize?” I suggested.

  “She should apologize for sleeping with married men,” Izzy said with a sniff, before changing the subject. “Hey, I just saw Danior. They released her and she’s resting in her cabin, though she said she’s coming back to work soon.”

  “Well, that’s great news, although I think she should rest. It’s terrifying to think of her being attacked that way.”

  “I talked to her, and she said she felt kind of dizzy when she left the bar and knew she probably shouldn’t have been walking alone, and then suddenly she didn’t realize quite where she was. Apparently, someone saw her lying there and got her to the hospital, then took off.”

  “Was her robbed? What do you think her attacker wanted?”

  “No, and I don’t know,” Izzy said.

  “Why just hit someone on the head if you’re not going to steal something from them—or worse?” I asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t, which is why we need to stick together these days.” She shivered, then hurried to start the next tour.

  Chapter Thirty

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  O liveira was aggravated. That was for sure. They’d now been sitting in his office—wasting time—for what felt like an eternity but was probably only thirty minutes.

  Daemon admitted that he hadn’t kept the Inspector fully informed about his follow-up investigation into the woman who’d b
een on the beach the night of the party but he might have also stated that the man was overreacting. Not a good move, apparently.

  Cody had done his best to make nice and Daemon had now been over everything he’d discovered, mind you Oliveira was still hostile. “You had an inkling—and you went out without telling me?” Oliveira demanded.

  “Look, it was insignificant. She was a little old lady…”

  “Who claims to be a voodoo queen,” Oliveira said. “Did she at least look in her crystal ball and tell you where to find the killer?” he asked sarcastically.

  “No, I don’t think crystal balls are her thing. All I know is she wasn’t running around on the beach the night the Santos girl disappeared” Daemon said and leaned forward. “Look, let’s go talk to Danior and see what she knows? She’s an actual living witness.”

  “I’ve already questioned her,” Oliveira said.

  Daemon opened his mouth, but refrained from reminding Oliveira that the police had also questioned the kids from the beach and hadn’t come up with the Voodoo Queen’s name, after Cody gave him a dirty look.

  How did he know?

  Oliveira shook his head. “Silly girl. She got drunk and fell and hit her head while walking home. It was beyond foolish. Who takes off alone knowing that a killer is loose in the city? My bet is she fell, but if she was attacked then it wasn’t our killer, or she’d be missing and probably dead right now.”

  Cody chimed in, “Very true and Danior was certainly foolish in her behavior but what if the killer drugged her in the bar but was interrupted before he could carry her off. Maybe Danior felt sick and took off outside without her attacker’s knowledge.”

  “Could be.” The Inspector was instantly more receptive. Bringing Cody in had been a wise move. “We’ve released her picture, and the media are asking for help, anonymous tips included, from anyone who might have seen something. Since you seem to know her why don’t you see what you can find out from her.” He turned to Daemon and his eyes widened. “But, I want to know everything—and I do mean everything—you find out. Which reminds me, why were you so insistent on Wesley taking the newest body from the Plantation?” Oliveira sounded seriously aggravated again. He’d been looking worn-out before; today he really looked like hell. His suit was wrinkled, and his shoes were muddy. He leaned back in his chair, popping an antacid. “Well?” he persisted.

  “Penny and I both think that corpse is related to Maman Brigitte,” Daemon said.

  Oliveira frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “We think it’s her daughter, Francisca to be exact.”

  Oliveira shook his head. “Look, the Medeh girl disappeared forty-six years ago. Meanwhile, I have two women still missing, another one dead on the beach, and a fourth in a sunken car and you’re trying to catch a killer from the past. Are you here on a case, or are you just looking to waste everyone’s time? You’ve talked with Wesley, so you know about the drugs, right?” Oliveira asked.

  “Ayahuasca,” Daemon said.

  “Ayahuasca, which contains a potent psychoactive compound called DMT. The key ingredient of the so-called ‘shaman drink,’” Oliveira said. “Maybe some shaman’s trying to get revenge for the way his people were treated in the past.”

  Daemon groaned aloud and Cody stomped on his foot. Despite the pain, he couldn’t keep his yap shut, “Come on, Oliveira. You’re a trained cop. Are you really trying to convince me that the indigenous people of the Amazon basin are murdering women because of some centuries-old vendetta? That’s absurd.”

  “You’re the one suggesting that we’ve had a killer hanging around for fifty years.”

  “It’s not unheard of. Or, we could have a killer who is either imitating the past or honestly believes in voodoo.” Cody interjected.

  Daemon nodded in agreement, “It’s a theory of mine that there are two people involved. One to do the luring, the other to do the heavy lifting—I’d say two people: one with the real power of persuasion, one easily led. And I’ll tell you one thing for sure, this is someone who knows the area, who knows the history—and the legends.”

  Oliveira stood up. “Great. Well, it sounds like we all have something to do then. I’m going to follow the Indigenous lead—and the Ayahuasca. I also have men in the streets watching every carnival themed party, ghost tour, and zombie-related happening out there. You see what you can get out of the Vianu girl.”

  “Fine but…” Daemon started to say that he thought the Inspector was wasting his time but changed tracks when Cody whacked his foot again. “… Danior was attacked last night, and that means the killer is stepping up the pace. We need to find out who it is quickly, before someone else goes missing or dies.”

  “Agreed.” Without another word, Oliveira walked to the door to his office and held it open, waiting. As he left, Daemon noticed again that Oliveira’s shoes were covered with mud.

  Chapter Thirty-One

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  A s soon as we finished our shift at the main house, Izzy and I headed over to Danior’s cabin.

  “Do you want to go grab dinner after this? I’m thinking fish tacos and margheritas.”

  “Yum! Thanks for the invite, but, you know Cody just got here and all, so I think we’ll probably just do a romantic thing—just the two of us.”

  “Oh, of course. Right? You mentioned that he’s here now. Bummer. I should have stolen you away for a girl’s night on the town before now I guess. Do you know how hard it is to find girlfriends who aren’t attached at the hip to their man?”

  “What about Carlos? Aren’t the two of you a thing?”

  “Sort of. We’re casual. I think he’s got his eye on that InstaModel.”

  “You mean, the inspector’s mistress?”

  A rakish glint sparkled in her eyes. “Exactly. I would have tried for that mammoth ghost hunter, but I know he’s with your friend, Danior’s sister. Mind you, he looks morally ambiguous, just the way I like them.”

  I laughed. “Actually, despite his devilish, cave man appearance, Daemon is quite the morally refined person. Probably, not your taste at all.”

  Emilion opened the door, and I looked past him to see Danior sitting on the sofa, propped up on a pillow, with a tray holding the remnants of tea and toast.

  Grateful tears made my vision swim, but I blinked them back on the sobering reminder that it was not fair to cry in front of the injured party. This had been hard for me during my brief stint as a cop. Not that I was a softie, far from it, but anything that involved abused women and children had me vengeful and teary.

  Izzy turned to Emilion and asked, “She doing all right?”

  Emilion nodded, then spoke, his voice low. “She got lucky. Insanely lucky. She drank too much, she was mad at me…thank God some bystander came along and got her to the hospital. She’ll be happy to see you. I just can’t help thinking this was my fault,” Emilion said miserably. He had huge circles under his already dark eyes.

  I touched his face. “Stop with the blame game. It’s not your fault.”

  “Yes, it is. Nana is going to kill me when we get home. With everything going on around here, I should have followed her all over town whether she was mad at me or not,” Emilion said.

  “Hey! I’m a big girl and whether Nana likes it or not,” Danior called. “I’m responsible for my own actions.”

  “Exactly, and Nana knows what type of headstrong woman she raised.” I smiled reassuringly at Emilion, then walked into the other room and leaned down to give Danior a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  Despite the bandage, she looked better than Emilion.

  Izzy took the chair across the coffee table from her and said, “What the hell happened? Cat came by the resort to say she was sorry—she thinks it’s her fault.”

  Danior had the grace to look guilty. “How many times do I have to say it. It was my fault and no one else’s. I had a few drinks with Cat—I remember that—and then I remember feeling really woozy. So, I got up and went outside to be sick. I don’t kno
w what happened after that. Everything’s a blur or a blank.”

  “Alcohol will do that,” Emilion said.

  “Very funny. I was walking down the street, and… then I woke up in the hospital. I know I’m really lucky,” Danior said.

  “Were you attacked?” I asked. “I mean…it sounds as if you might have just passed out. The bandage is on your forehead. Maybe you stumbled or tripped and just crashed forward.”

  “The doctor said she was drugged,” Emilion said. “That’s why they called the cops. Inspector Oliveira took the case, and then he called me right after he got there.”

  “I know this will sound crazy, and I admit I was loaded, but…” Danior hesitated, staring at me.

  “Tell her,” Emilion said.

  “Tell me what?”

  “All right, I didn’t say this to the police, because they just would’ve said I was crazy, but…someone was there. Someone was talking to me at the bar before I felt sick.”

  “I know. Cat?”

  “No, Cat was dancing with someone... maybe Adriano.

  “Was Yasmin there?”

  “I guess she was, but I can’t remember who was talking to me. All I remember is they got distracted. I think they started to argue with one of the tourists at the bar and then I felt sick so I went outside and I saw the ghost of Lise. And that’s all I remember,” Danior said miserably.

  I was silent, stunned.

  “Lise,” I said finally. “What do you mean you saw the ghost of Lise?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t actually remember what I saw. I was hallucinating by this time for sure but I remember thinking it was the ghost of Lise. So, maybe just a tourist who looked like her.”

  “Wow. Well, no matter what, you can’t be alone anymore. Promise?”

  “I promise,” Danior assured me, then said, “You need to be careful, too, you know. I don’t care what anyone says, I think someone locked you in that basement. Maybe they just wanted to scare you—or maybe you were going to be buried too.”