Murder, Ye Bones Page 4

  “You have helped,” Daemon told him. “Thanks.” He gave the guy his card, asking him to call if he thought of anything else, and left.

  The sun was setting, and he really missed his motorcycle. This pedestrian thing sucked, but thanks to the kid at the tour office, at least he had some new information and an avenue to explore.

  Whoever had taken Lise Trix was the same person who’d snatched Bianca Santos. He was sure of it.

  He started back for the hotel then changed direction and headed for Li Grand Zomb instead. It never hurt to mix with the locals when looking for a break in the case.

  Besides it was time to celebrate, he’d learned something new today. Something that wasn’t in any of the police files. He had found another connection besides the resort between the two missing women.

  Both of them were interested in voodoo.

  Chapter Eight

  _____________

  T he news about the Plantation had gotten out, turning Yazmin’s world upside down. I felt bad for her. The bones had been pretty much the only topic of discussion that afternoon, which sucked for her but was helpful to me since I was investigating and keen to chat.

  “We’re heading to Li Grand Zomb for drinks,” Danior told me as Izzy closed the doors at last.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I have a couple things to do first,” I said.

  “I’ll wait for you,” Danior offered.

  “I’ll be all right. You two go with Adriano and Yasmin. You two should be with people right now.”

  “Why?” Izzy asked, startled.

  Before I could answer, she said, “Oh. Right. You’re worried because we’re blondes.”

  “Exactly. Who knows if you’ll be needed to screw in a lightbulb together,” I replied.

  “Haha,” Danior said, a smile teasing her lips, “You just want to be alone… to snoop around. I know you, Trubble. Don’t try to deny it.”

  “Moi? Never.” I batted my eyelashes like some innocent child. “No, but seriously I just want to see what’s up. Plus, I need to talk to Daemon. You go on, and I’ll be right there. You know I’m kind of a loner anyway, and I’d like to go for a run before I fill my face with bar food.”

  “Do you really think it’s smart to be running alone at this time of day?” Izzy asked.

  “Well, yeah, duh. How else can I outrun a killer if I don’t maintain my excellent cardio conditioning.”

  Danior laughed as she tugged Izzy away. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about Penny. She’s trained in martial arts. I pity the person who thinks she’s an easy target.”

  As I headed down the path in the opposite direction that led to the carriage house and cabins, the outside world fell away.

  A long gray cloud wandered over the evening’s full moon, and I took a brief moment to let my eyes readjust while I thought of Cody. It would have been so nice to have him here with me. I heard leaves crunch nearby. An animal—probably a squirrel or a dog. There was another crunch. Then another. And I realized that I wasn’t listening to an animal. I was hearing footsteps.

  I was no longer alone.

  I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. Readying myself for attack mode.

  “Hello, who’s there?” I called into the darkness. “It’s Penny. Is everything okay?”

  The footsteps stopped and a pale wisp of a woman appeared before me.

  “Penny,” she said, taking another step forward, supporting herself with a carved snake-like walking stick and moving slowly, yet with purpose. “What the hell kind of name is that?” She asked, nostrils flaring, “Is that short for something?”

  “Yes, it’s short for Penelope,” I managed to respond, my voice sounding like a croak. I was angry with myself for spooking so easily—it was not like me. Despite my bravado with Danior, the discovery of the bones in the plantation’s walls combined with the possibility of a killer had got to me.

  “Are you the one staying here in this cabin now,” she asked crisply. Her whole face was pinched toward her scrunched lips, and her whisky colored eyes twitched as if she were holding herself back.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Because you really shouldn’t. It’s too dangerous. It’s haunted by an evil witch.” She took another step closer to me and raised both hands, waving her manicured orange nails in the air. “Have you heard of the Rigdon’s?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, you need to look them up and move out of here right away. The Rigdon man, he was evil and so was his housekeeper—a damned Voodoo witch. We all knew they were bad but we couldn’t prove it.”

  “Couldn’t prove what?”

  She sighed as if she’d explained the story already and I were simple, “That they were kidnapping all the pretty young girls. Only a few bodies were found, but the others were presumed dead. Everything was in an uproar.”

  “You’re saying girls were being kidnapped before now?”

  “Did I stutter? Yes, that’s what I said. The disappearances. Young women just…disappearing. I know because my own daughter was one of them. She was never seen again,” The old woman said with the sadness of years in her voice. “The housekeeper…she knew voodoo, the black arts, magic,” she said.

  She was clearly lost in grief over the loss of her daughter. And now, with all the publicity about Bianca Santos, she was simply seeing the past reflected in the present.

  “I’m very sorry about your daughter,” I offered, not knowing what else to say.

  “She’s here… buried somewhere on this property,” she waved her hands with such passion. “Frannie, and the others. He even murdered his own daughter.”

  Before I could speak again, or make up my mind what to do, we were interrupted by a voice coming from the porch.

  “Maman Brigitte? Oh, dear God. Maman, where are

  you?”

  The voice was feminine, and clearly concerned.

  “We’re over here!” I called.

  I heard footsteps, and then, coming out of the trees behind the old woman, I saw one of the most strikingly beautiful women I had ever encountered. She had dark hair, a classically beautiful face and slightly tilted eyes.

  She set an arm gently around the older woman’s frail shoulders and flashed her best smile. Her teeth were white enough to trigger migraines. “I’m so sorry. She likes to sit on the porch at night. She must have seen the lights on in the cabin and wandered over.” She dropped her smile. “I am so, so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. We were just talking,” I said.

  The woman looked relieved as I offered a hand. “I’m Cat Nascimento. Maman Brigitte is my great-auntie. We take care of each other, don’t we Auntie?” She turned to her as she spoke, and she nodded. “She’s eighty-two years old, and absolutely remarkable,” Cat said.

  “And surprisingly not invisible which means you can see me,” Maman Brigitte said flatly. “The young lady went into the voodoo shack, and she needed to know about the priestess witch.”

  Cat lowered her head for a moment, then looked back up at me. “It’s the hoopla about the missing girl, and then the bones. Her daughter disappeared years and years ago—one of a half dozen or so girls who disappeared at the same time—and the murders have brought it all back,” she explained.

  “It’s perfectly all right,” I said. I stepped forward and took one of Maman Brigitte’s hands. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Maman. Thank you for coming to see me.”

  A look of gratitude lit Cat’s eyes. “We need to get back.”

  Maman Brigitte was staring intently at me.

  “You believe me, don’t you?” she implored suddenly. “It’s happening again. The voodoo—it’s back again.”

  “Maman, we really have to go,” Cat said. “We can pick some fresh flowers tomorrow, if you’d like.

  Maman Brigitte nodded, but she was still staring at me. “It’s all right. I’ll go. She knows. And she’ll find out the truth.”

  She turned and started through the trees, leaning hea
vily on her walking stick. Leaving an earthy, smoked-lemony scent in her wake, it reminded me of a perfume my own Grandmother used to wear. Cat Nascimento flashed me one last smile, then turned as well.

  Black magic.

  Twilight had come, and the shadows were deepening, and her characterization of my cabin as the voodoo shack suddenly reverberated in my mind.

  I reminded myself that I didn’t believe such nonsense. Even so, I found myself unnerved.

  Suddenly I didn’t want to be here any longer. Daemon still wasn’t back from the ferry. I grabbed my purse and decided to forget my run. The only spirit I wanted to encounter was the kind in a glass.

  Chapter Nine

  _____________

  A s Daemon sat at the bar and sipped a beer, Izzy Carr entered with Adriano, Yasmin and Danior. The foursome took a table. As they got settled, Izzy noted him. The look she gave him was slightly wary, which didn’t bother him. He was a stranger, and there were unpleasant things happening in town. But she nudged Danior, who looked up, smiled and walked over.

  “Hey, Daemon, enjoying the island?” she asked.

  “Of course. It’s beautiful, although I wish your sister was here. Have you talked her to today? he asked.

  She smiled, but her smile quickly faded. “No, I think she had plans.” She cleared her throat, “Isn’t it bizarre? The bones they found at the Plantation, I mean.”

  “Bizarre and sad. How’s your cousin doing?”

  “Yasmin’s a trooper, but this was a rough day for her. Even the tourists have heard about it now, so on top of the media driving her nuts, visitors were asking her about it all day. And since she just bought the place, really, what could she say to anyone?”

  “Sounds like a pretty uncomfortable position.”

  “She’s wanted to buy that place for years. Its history always fascinated her.”

  He allowed himself a smile then. “It’s nice you guys are here trying to cheer her up.” he said.

  “Yeah, she keeps trying to bail, she wants to go to bed.”

  “And Penny?”

  “Ugh…she should be here soon. She’s back at the Plantation. She said she was gonna wait around for you. You didn’t see her?”

  Daemon felt an almost overwhelming desire to leap up and run to the house to check on her, suddenly worried that she was there alone.

  “I haven’t been back yet. I’ll text her.”

  “Good idea and why don’t you come over and join us?” Danior asked.

  “I don’t wanna intrude. I’ll just—”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you if I thought you’d be an intrusion. Come on. You’re practically family. Emilion’s on his way, and Penny swore to me that she wouldn’t bail on us.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind…”

  “I’m sure. Really.”

  He placed money on the bar for the beer and followed her over to the table. Izzy and Yasmin greeted him, and Adriano Towns smiled.

  “Any luck on finding that girl?” Adriano asked as Daemon sat down.

  Daemon shook his head.

  “Tough to find anything out, I imagine,” Adriano sympathized. “Do you have a deadline or anything?”

  “No. I’m here until I find out something,” Daemon said.

  “Until you find…a body?” Izzy asked tremulously.

  “Until I have something to tell Danior’s grandmother, Nana Vianu. She’s the one who hired me.”

  “So,” Adriano said, “how do you handle money in your line of work? Do you get expenses and all that?”

  “Adriano!” Yasmin said, horrified.

  “That’s like…asking him the size of his boxer briefs…” Izzy looked up and winked, “which I imagine are a good size.”

  Daemon laughed. “It’s all right.”

  “He makes a good enough living to take Danior’s sister, Mallory out to the fanciest of restaurants,” Someone said casually over his shoulder. Daemon turned to see Emilion had shown up. Danior jumped out of her seat to greet him with a hug. “Nana probably got the family discount. Isn’t that right, Wraith? Also, you should see his car.”

  Emilion was smiling.

  “Aren’t you a ghost buster or something?” Adriano asked. This guy was coming off as more and more insecure.

  Daemon was careful not to hesitate too long before answering. He drew his finger through the frost on his beer glass as he spoke. “I run an investigation agency like any other. Licensed, all that. I spent today tracking down information the police already had, just double-checking. Tedious and time-consuming. Most of our work is slow and not at all exciting, much less eerie, in any way.”

  “Plus, he works for the FBI sometimes.” Danior added.

  Daemon threw her a look. He liked to keep that on the down low and he didn’t really give a flying squirrel what this dude thought, even if he was Yasmin’s boyfriend.

  “But I heard you were supernaturally gifted,” Adriano argued.

  “I get a lot of calls about spirits, yes. Most of the time, the supposed whispers are coming from old pipes or the wind coming in through leaky window frames.”

  “Here she is,” Izzy interrupted suddenly. With a huge smile, she stood up, waving.

  Daemon looked over to the door and saw that Penny had just arrived, her hair had doubled in size from the humidity, and her face was ashen.

  She took a seat next to Danior and swiped Emilion’s beer, taking a long swallow.

  “Hey, what’s wrong, Pen?” Danior asked, looking concerned and leaning forward to meet her eyes.

  “Maman Brigitte is what’s wrong,” she said. As if jolted into remembering her manners, Penny quickly said, “Hey Daemon. Thanks for the text.”

  He could tell from her body language that she had news to tell him.

  “Who is Maman Brigitte?” Daemon asked when no one else said anything.

  She shrugged.

  “Penny, seriously, what happened?” Danior asked.

  “A very, very old woman,” Adriano answered for Penny.

  She turned to stare at him, frowning.

  “You know her?” she asked.

  “Yes, all of us locals do,” Adriano answered. “She lives next door to the resort. Fifty years ago, her daughter ran away. She turned into a cranky old hermit. What’s up with her? Were her daughter’s bones in the walls?” he asked.

  “Not that I know of. She wandered over to my cabin while I was walking back,” Penny said.

  “What? Impossible—she has to be dead. She was older than time twenty years ago,” Adriano told her.

  “Why are you so bothered by seeing her tonight?” Izzy asked.

  “Yeah, what did the woman say?” he asked quickly.

  She hesitated briefly, then shrugged. “She said that the plantation, specifically my cabin, is haunted by the spirit of a voodoo witch. She’s convinced that it…did something to her daughter.”

  “She thinks the cabin did something to her?” Adriano asked, confused.

  “What? Does she think it eats people or something?” Danior asked, bewildered.

  “I feel sorry for her,” Penny explained.

  She had finished off Emilion’s beer. Danior picked up the empty glass and studied it sadly. “You drank all my beer?”

  “That was yours?” Penny smiled, “I thought that was Emilion’s glass. You’re underage, anyway. Get an ice tea.”

  Daemon turned around and motioned to the waitress, making a circle in the air to indicate a round of drinks for the table. She nodded.

  “Poor woman,” Izzy said, taking a sip of her drink. “There have been ghost sightings inside and near the cabin though so she’s not entirely wrong. Word is the apparition started out benign. People seeing a teenage girl with white blond curls. For a while it increased bookings here on the Island.” Her expression shifted. “But the last booking ended with someone getting hurt. They claimed a ghost was hurtling books at them yelling, ‘Let me out. Let me out.’”

  “Hmm. I wonder what Francisca Medeh lo
oks like? Maman is not fair skinned but I wonder if her daughter could have had blonde curls.”

  Izzy set her drink down, “Imagine, living all those years—and never knowing what happened?”

  “What if her bones were one of girls in the walls?” Penny said.

  “What?” Yasmin grimaced.

  “We don’t know anything yet, really,” Penny backtracked. “But maybe her daughter was killed and put into the walls. Have you heard anything back from the University yet? They took the bones to study, didn’t they?”

  Yasmin shook her head. The drinks came. When the waitress set a beer in front of her, she frowned, as if wondering how it had gotten there. Then she shrugged and drank.

  “Ugh, it’s so like Lise to get mixed up in something like this,” Danior said, exasperated. “She’s such a headache.”

  Penny frowned and hugged her friend. “Danior, don’t be like that. I know you don’t like Lise but she might seriously be hurt.”

  “Doubt it. She probably just took off to enjoy her vacation, the offer to work being a ruse until she got a better offer. We should check her blog. I’m sure she’s taken a thousand photos by now.”

  Penny looked at Daemon. “That’s actually a good idea. We should check her blog again. So how was your day?”

  “Not very eventful,” he said, keeping his new information to himself for the moment. “A lot of running around. But it was a start.”

  “Nothing from the ferry’s employee?” she asked.

  “Just a lot of legwork,” he said.

  She was trying to get him to talk because she didn’t want to be pressured anymore; he had a feeling, though, that she hadn’t told the group what she was really thinking, or maybe she hadn’t told them everything Maman Brigette had said. But he wasn’t about to say that he might have taken a few steps forward and was certain now that Lise Trix was dead, and that she had been killed here in Ilhabela.

  He lifted his glass to Penny and turned the topic right back to her.

  “So how did your encounter with Maman Brigette end?”