Murder, Ye Bones Read online

  Which was why at the moment we were searching blindly. Still, Daemon and I hadn’t wanted to miss the opportunity to be in on the search, not when we had promised Nana Vianu we’d find her Lise. Admittedly, this grim attempt was not to find Lise but Bianca Santos, the girl who’d gone missing from Yasmin’s paranormal resort over a week ago. She’d gone to a party on the beach and seemingly vanished.

  We didn’t know if the cases were connected since no one knew if Lise had actually made it to Ilhabela, her intended destination. We only knew that she had landed at São Paulo Airport, gotten off the plane and spoken to one of the ferry employees. No one had actually seen her get off the ferry.

  So, we were looking for any sign of either of them.

  As I moved toward the marshy shore, I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me, but I was accustomed to such conditions. I’d dived many times before.

  I noted Daemon was headed for a glitter of light, just this side of the drop-off. I focused my dive light, and headed toward the glint too, knowing full well that he might be on to something or it might just be another discarded piece of junk.

  But as we neared the object in the water, the full size of it became clear. It was an automobile.

  What was the chance this car held Bianca or even Lise? Sweet Jesus, I hadn’t thought this through. Dead bodies were spooky enough, add murky water and you had vomit inducing panic—not ideal with the respirator in your mouth.

  And as we approached the vehicle mired in the mucky, seaweed-laden sand, a creeping feeling of terrible unease began to fill me, slowly at first, then cold and sweeping, like skeletal fingers reaching from a grave on a cold, damp autumn’s day.

  Damn. Daemon had found his ghost. A face stared out at us, only without the eyes. Already, the creatures of the deep had started to feed.

  Chapter Six

  _____________

  “S

  wimming with corpses again, huh? You’re beginning to get a reputation, Trubble,” Nana Vianu said.

  “Very funny! Just remember that when you get my bill. I’m settling in just fine by the way. Thanks for asking.”

  “Oh, pish. Get on with it.”

  In person, Nana Vianu—owner of Bohemian Caravan Manor Resort —was polite, refined and elegant. But over the phone she shot straight from the hip, didn’t pull punches or waste time on small talk.

  “The corpse had nothing to do with Lise’s disappearance. The body is—”

  “Dr. Alexandra J. Newirth, a social psychologist who’s been missing for a month, the Inspector thinks she took the corner to fast,” Nana said.

  “Well, then, apparently you’re on top of it. What the hell did you send me down here for?”

  Nana chuckled. She appreciated my tongue. Hers was equally sharp. “I thought you were looking a little haggard lately.”

  “Aww….so you thought I needed a vacation. You’re too kind. Unfortunately, the deep-sea doctor doesn’t get us any closer to what we’re looking for.”

  “A fine day’s work, even if there’s no connection. Have you or Daemon discovered anything from talking to the locals?”

  I smirked. Nana had no patience. “Isn’t has even been a full day yet, but we’re in town right now canvassing the neighborhood. I promise we’ll do everything we can. Frankly, I’m hoping Lise fell in love and ran off. I’d just as soon not find her corpse. How’s Mal doing? Daemon wants to speak with her?”

  Nana hesitated, “Actually, she’s out for lunch.” I heard something strange in Nana’s voice. She wasn’t the only one with intuition.

  “Oh, with who?”

  Daemon curled his fist like he knew what was coming.

  “Kaden.”

  Kaden Bones worked for Cody. He was also related to one of the locals so everyone knew and loved him despite the fact that he was relatively new to town.

  I could hear Daemon practically growl when I covered the phone and whispered to him where Mal was. He couldn’t help himself. Not that I blamed him, Bohemian Lake’s newest detective was sniffing around his girlfriend. It didn’t help that Mallory was upset with him. I knew they’d had a bit of an argument before he left. She wasn’t happy with the amount he travelled, but he couldn’t very well help it. It was the nature of his business as well as his gift. Paranormal Investigations specialized in the bizarre things that went bump in the night, and those tended to happen all over the world and there weren’t many people out there like him. Not to mention he moonlighted for the FBI and they weren’t exactly known for their patience when they needed you.

  Nana sighed, “Oh, tell Daemon not to worry, dear. They’re just… friends.” She hesitated as she said it, as if she didn’t quite believe it herself. “Anyway, I’ll have her call him when she gets home. Now, with regards to the missing girls…is Daemon’s sixth sense telling him anything? Does he know who’s taken them?”

  I asked the question even though I knew the answer and Daemon shook his head no. He was too careful a guy. He would never share his intuition this early.

  “No gut intuition, not yet,” I told Nana. Admittedly, he’d looked interested in that decrepit old shack…err cabin on the resort’s property—the one next door to the Carriage House—where I was now staying. Lucky me, I know. Maybe he’d trade me accommodations, the carriage house looked pretty swanky. Like a miniature of the main house.

  “Pen—you there?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry. Like I said, nothing yet. Trust me, we’re doing everything in our power to find Lise. If she’s here anywhere, we will find her. Though based on this conversation you seem to be getting information from the police at least as fast as we are.”

  “You know me, I hound until they give in. I’ll keep you up-to-date on things.”

  “Thanks. And likewise.”

  I hung up and continued my stroll down the shaded walk. Daemon had gone on ahead when his phone rang, perhaps Nana had texted Mallory to call him ASAP.

  Downtown Ilhabela was your basic tourist town. The ocean was lined with restaurants, shops and B&Bs, and at night, the sightseeing carriages and ghost tours went by.

  I stared at the list of names the Inspector provided as I waited for Daemon on the boardwalk. The name at the top of the list was noted to work here at the ice cream shop—a colorful place, decorated with a giant sugared cone that looked sweet enough to eat. Breno Mason—suspect numero uno—on the other hand looked a little more salty, like a typical high school kid, hovering between adolescence and adulthood. He was tall, and scarecrow level lean and lanky, with long hair that he had tied back and covered with a grungy bandana. I had a feeling that hair got washed about as often as the bandana.

  I observed the boy serving ice cream through the window while waiting for Daemon. Between customers, Stretch… err Breno sipped his cola through a straw like it was his main source of nutrition, which no doubt it was. Finally, Daemon arrived looking a little happier and we approached him.

  “Breno?”

  Breno looked up and straightened, a wary look coming into his eyes.

  “Yes?”

  Daemon offered him a handshake. “Hi. My name is Daemon Wraith and this is Penny Trubble.”

  “You cops?” Breno asked.

  “Private investigators.”

  A flash of pain crossed Breno’s features, making him look young and vulnerable all of a sudden. “You’re here about that girl, Bianca, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “We are.

  “I wish I knew something,” Breno said.

  “Can you just tell us about the night she was last seen? We’re coming in with fresh eyes, and something might hit us that the cops missed, or maybe you’ll remember something new.”

  Breno looked down into the ice cream freezer like the chunky monkey might hold the answer. I was inclined to agree with him. If only ice cream could solve more of my problems, instead of causing them…ahem… tight shorts, “I wish I knew something,” he repeated.

  “Anything that you know will help. W
here were you? Who was there? What was the night like?”

  I stepped in. “Like Daemon said, we’re not cops, Breno. Relax. We’re not going to turn anyone in, or tell anyone’s folks they were drinking or smoking pot or anything else. We just want to find the missing girls.”

  “Girls?”

  “Bianca.” I corrected myself. Oops. Leave it to me to convolute the situation with Lise’s disappearance.

  Breno inhaled, then exhaled loudly, as if he’d made a decision. “Okay, so we had this party at the beach—out on Praia do Julião Beach, not far from here. There’s a section that’s kind of off the beaten track. We had a bonfire going, and…and yeah, there was booze and grass.” He went quiet, remembering.

  “Were you dating Bianca?” Daemon asked, prodding him.

  “No, no way, dude. We’d just met. She was here on vacation—she ugh wanted to find a job and like move here and stuff. We’d been hanging out off and on for about a week.”

  “So, you’d never fooled around?”

  “No.” He stared at Daemon suddenly. “You think I did something to her?” he asked incredulously.

  “Oh, heavens no,” I assured him. “That’s not what the big guy is getting at.” My gut told me that this kid couldn’t have carried off a white lie, much less an abduction.

  Daemon shifted. “We’re just wondering if she would have confided in you. If she would have told you if she’d met someone, for instance. Or if she was meeting someone.”

  “She didn’t say anything about leaving. And she wasn’t meeting anyone.” He was quiet for a minute, then looked at Daemon as if sizing him up. “She was pretty wasted, though. She was dancing around the fire and pretending it was some kind of voodoo dance.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she liked to read creepy stuff, books about black magic and crap like that. She wanted to experience all that spooky stuff, you know? See the real thing. She seemed like she was the kind who would turn out the lights and make noises to scare you, and then laugh. She wasn’t afraid of anything—that’s why she’d booked a room at the Paranormal Resort. She wanted to hang out in cemeteries at night and see ghosts and stuff.”

  “Was she hanging out with other kids?” Daemon asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Breno said, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly he brightened. “She did talk to a weird woman on the beach.”

  “A weird woman on the beach?” I asked, trying to sound casual. This was something new, and maybe it meant nothing. On the other hand…

  “She came over while we were setting up.” He stared at me. “She looked like she was ready for Halloween early. She scared us at first,” he admitted, flushing. “She just walked out of this grove of scrub right when we started building the fire. We thought she lived nearby or something, and that maybe she was going to threaten to call the cops on us. But she told us to be careful, said the moon was at its most powerful peak or some weird shit like that, and it brought out all kinds of spirits. She was a kook. Bianca seemed to think she was cool though and talked to her for a little while. I wasn’t really paying attention. I can’t believe I forgot all about her ’til now.”

  “What happened then?”

  “She walked away I guess.”

  “To where?”

  “I don’t know. Probably down the trail that led back to the road. Like I said, I was busy setting up and I didn’t really notice.”

  “Did you see her again?”

  “No.”

  “What color was her hair?”

  Breno frowned in concentration. “I don’t know. She had on a headwrap that covered it. She was shorter than me.”

  “Do you remember anything else? Anything at all? Perfume? Tattoos? Anything.”

  Breno looked away for a moment, then faced Daemon sheepishly. “She smelled like herbs. I’d had two beers, maybe three by then. I was pretty looped by the time I saw her. You really won’t say anything to my parents, right? You’re really not cops?”

  “We’re really not cops.” Daemon drew a card from his wallet and handed it to the boy. “I want you to do me a favor. If you think of anything else—and I want you to really think about this woman and see if you can remember something more—give us a call. Please.”

  Breno took the card and looked at Daemon again. “Okay. You might want to talk to Aline. She might remember something.” He looked down, wincing. “Thing is, the three of us…we had a twelve-pack to start and it was pretty much gone by the time the woman showed up. So…I kind of doubt she’ll remember anything, either, know what I mean?”

  “Point taken,” Daemon said. “But we’ll talk to her anyway. So where exactly was this secluded spot?” he asked. I was about to point out that we had directions; they were in the file Oliveira had provided. But it wouldn’t hurt to get the kid’s directions, as well.

  “I’ll draw you a map,” Breno said, taking a napkin from the counter and a pen from underneath the cash register.

  “While you’re at it, draw me a map of the area and show me where the woman came from, and where you think she walked off to,” Daemon said.

  Breno did as he asked, then looked from Daemon to me and asked, “Do you think you’ll find Bianca? Alive?” He looked a little sick, as if he were afraid of the answer.

  “We’re trying.”

  Chapter Seven

  _____________

  Y awning, Daemon raked his fingers through his hair and took his place at the end of a very long line to board the Island’s ferry. He was tired from canvassing and wondered if he’d get any useful information out of the girl. Some people clammed up when they saw him. Penny accused him of intimidating others with his hulking frame—her words.

  Thankfully the line moved quickly. When he got to the front, he asked the attendant if he could speak with Mina Grigsby. He knew from his last phone call that she was working today.

  Turned out she was one of those bubbly, flirtatious young things, who didn’t seem to have a problem talking at all.

  Daemon smiled reassuringly as she led him to the office in the back. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m here about Lise Trix,” he began. “I know you’ve been interviewed by the police before but I’m a private investigator.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. Really. I’m glad to hear that someone is still looking in to what happened to her.” She tossed her hair. “It was a real long wait that day, but she wasn’t nasty about it, the way some people are.” Her green eyes sparkled.

  Daemon nodded. “I’ve taken the ferry before, and I know what you mean, Miss Grigsby. Mina. I was hoping she might have mentioned her plans. Something that might have come back to you in the time since she went missing. Anything would be helpful at this point.”

  Mina was thoughtful for a moment; then she smiled.

  “She was anxious to get to Ilhabela. I told her where there were some very good eateries…and she said she was going to take a ghost tour—but that wouldn’t have been until that evening.”

  “Did she say anything about a reservation?”

  She dug in her macramé purse but came up empty handed, “I thought maybe I had a brochure on me. She was planning to stay at the Paranormal Resort—I do remember her saying that. She was going to work there or something.”

  Daemon waited, because she appeared to be thinking with intensity.

  “There was one more thing,” Mina said, surprising him by touching his arm.

  “Oh?”

  “She said she was meeting someone. She was going to see a priestess about a love spell. You know, a voodoo priestess or something. She wore a zombie head pendant around her neck, and I asked her if she was into voodoo. She said she wasn’t a believer, but she liked the macabre. That’s how I came to know she was staying at the paranormal resort and I guess that’s why she was going to take that ghost tour.” She fell silent, then sighed again, shaking her head as she looked at him. “I’m sorry, that’s it.”

  “Do you remember what she was wearing?” Daemon asked.

&n
bsp; “Yes. A white dress, sort of like this one,” she ran her hands down her sides, tugging at the material which didn’t leave much to the imagination, “Oh, and she was pulling a snake skin patterned suitcase. She said it was super cool—she could always find her luggage at baggage claim.”

  “You’ve been great,” Daemon assured her.

  “Really?” She seemed genuinely pleased. “I don’t feel like I’ve helped much at all. And that other girl’s still missing, and they look so much alike.”

  Daemon nodded.

  “I hope you find them both. Lise Trix. And the other girl, too, of course,” Mina told him, then stood and offered her hand. He thanked her again, and then she went back to the ferry and he headed for town.

  Daemon stopped on his way back and created conversation wherever he could. After all, she might have stopped for a coffee, or a snack.

  It had gotten him nowhere. Still, leave no stone unturned.

  He pounded the pavement once again with Lise’s picture in hand, only to have them confuse her with Bianca.

  Finally, toward the end of the day, he entered a booking office offering a variety of tours where he repeated himself for what felt like the thousandth time that Lise might have been interested in a ghost tour.

  The young guy manning the place studied the photograph again.

  “Wow. They really could be the same girl, except—” He broke off, his face wrinkled in concentration.

  “I’m thinking her hair up. She was asking about the scariest, spookiest thing it was possible to do.”

  “Do you remember what tour she decided on?”

  “She took a particular interest in the Brewing up History tour because of the cemetery stop where the voodoo priestess was buried. Anyway, she took all the brochures though and said she’d be back, that she’d probably take several of them. It really is creepy how similar those two girls look.” He looked up at Daemon again. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be more help.”