Ghost Witching

by Ally Shields

  By late in the day, a written lab report confirmed a bump key or similar device had left nearly invisible marks on the victim’s back door bolt. There were no prints or other trace evidence. So they had a method and place of entrance and exit. Josh looked at Maggie across their desks. “Score one for your latest confidential informant.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed half-heartedly. “It’s nice to have that question solved, but it doesn’t put us any closer to IDing the killer…or even a good suspect.”

  “But it does raise another question. Why’d he or she bother to lock it again?”

  “Who knows?” Maggie shrugged. “To delay someone finding the body? To keep us busy wondering how it was done? Maybe it’s as simple as habit.”

  Returning to their task, they reviewed background info on friends, relatives, and neighbors for hints of financial problems, marital indiscretions, or messy romantic entanglements. Anyone or anything that might lead to disputes or jealousy within Preston’s circle of acquaintances was fair game.

  But they hadn’t forgotten the snake. Although it was possible the cottonmouth had been captured in the nearby swamps, Josh called zoos, exotic pet stores, animal exhibits, and reptile farms, anyplace that could be an alternate source.

  By six o’clock they were ready to end the day when Maggie suddenly whistled under her breath. “Have you read the accident report on the neighbor’s wife and child? One of the cops quoted Sutter as blaming Valerie Preston.” She swung her computer screen around and came around the desk to join him.

  Josh’s brows shot up as he read from the screen. “An ongoing dispute? A curse? Then he knew about the witchcraft.” He turned toward Maggie, found his face only inches from hers, and fought off a rush of awareness. She straightened abruptly and returned to her own desk. Had she felt that same response?

  “Sutter lied to us. Said he hardly knew her, and that she’d mentioned the barking…like it was nothing,” Maggie said acidly. “If he thought she’d cursed his family, their fight had to be bitter. It gives him a motive for murder. And he has access.”

  Josh pushed his chair back. “He’s got some explaining to do. I’ll bring him in, while you get the details from the officer who wrote the report.”

  “You sure?” she asked. “I can go with you.”

  “I can bring in one drunk by myself, Maggie, and we’ll need the extra info when we talk with him.”

  “OK.” Her tone had gone flat. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Josh frowned at the back of her head as she picked up her phone. Now what was the matter? Had he missed something? This hitch in their relationship was creating more misunderstanding and tension than they’d ever experienced before. He shook his head and walked out of the precinct.

  A few minutes later, Josh pounded twice on Sutter’s door before the guy answered with another beer in his hand. He offered no resistance to going downtown, except worrying about his dog. Josh waited while Scamp was fed his supper, and then drove Sutter to the station. On the way he asked if the man had found a job yet. Sutter mumbled something about any day now and fell silent.

  When they arrived at District 13, Maggie was waiting for them in the Interrogation Room. She still acted annoyed, irritation in her stiff shoulders. His jaw tightened, but he drew in a slow breath. This wasn’t the time or place…

  * * *

  Maggie eyed Marvin Sutter while he settled in a chair across from her. He appeared disheveled, and when he leaned forward to rest his hands on the table, the odor of alcohol reached her. She glanced at Josh, and he gave a subtle nod. Great. The guy had been drinking recently. Was he competent to answer questions?

  She went through the standard Miranda caution and preliminary questions, then put his condition on the record. It would give lawyers something to hassle about if the case ever went to court but best to get it out in the open.

  “How much have you had to drink today, Mr. Sutter?”

  “What? Oh, a couple of beers.” He avoided meeting her gaze. “Can’t a guy have a beer or two without everyone objecting?”

  “You seem upset I asked. Has someone else remarked on your drinking?”

  His lips pushed out in a belligerent pout. “You sicced a damned social worker on me.”

  “A grief counselor. I thought you might want to talk to someone. You’ve had a terrible loss.”

  “Yeah, well, you were wrong. I’m fine. But I’d be better if others would stay out of my business.” He refocused his attention on Josh. “You said this wouldn’t take long. What’s the problem now?”

  “Last night you said you didn’t know Valerie Preston very well,” Josh began. “Would you like to revise that statement?”

  A wariness crossed Sutter’s face. “We’d talked a few times, but she was just one of the neighbors.”

  Maggie leaned forward, catching his gaze. “That’s not true, Marvin. You knew her better than that. Well enough to accuse her of killing your wife and child with a curse.”

  He flopped back against the chair, staring at a far corner of the room. “I was upset at the time.”

  “Very upset I’d say.” Maggie picked up her notepad. “Do you recall speaking with an officer the night of the accident? You threatened Mrs. Preston. Your exact words were ‘I’ll kill the bitch if I get a chance.’ Is that about right?”

  “Maybe. I don’t remember every conversation. But I didn’t mean it.” He squirmed in his chair, and his neck reddened under the edge of his collar.

  Was he embarrassed to hear his rash words repeated? Or struggling to hide his guilt?

  “Do I need a lawyer?” he asked.

  “Did you kill her?”

  “No, I wouldn’t do anything like that.” He sounded resigned, defeated. His jaw worked from side to side, as if suppressing an even stronger emotion. “I was nearly out of my mind with grief the night of the wreck, and I’d had a drink or two. And I’d had words with Val, just that day. She threatened my dog, implied she’d have him put down. I’d heard rumors she was a witch…and that night, it just spilled out.” He hunched his shoulders. “I don’t believe in witches or any of that voodoo stuff. So why would I kill her?”

  Josh offered him a possible scenario. “You have quite a temper, Marvin. I think you do believe in witchcraft and that you know about Preston’s back room.” Sutter’s gaze flickered; Josh went on. “Your suspicions have eaten at you since the night of the accident. It’s easy enough for you to slip from your house into hers.” He leaned forward, softening his voice. “Maybe you just meant to scare her.”

  Sutter’s nostrils flared, but he shook his head. “That didn’t happen. None of it. If I believed she was at fault…” he paused, gritting his teeth, “I’d have killed her that first night.”

  They walked him down to the booking room, and he voluntarily agreed to be fingerprinted. There was nothing to compare his prints to…yet, but he didn’t know that, which made his cooperation a point in his favor. Afterward, they sent him home in a cab.

  “What do you think?” Josh asked as he and Maggie rode the elevator up to Major Crimes.

  “There’s something about him that doesn’t ring my guilty bell. He strikes me as impulsive rather than a man who’d carry out an elaborate plan. But as you said, he’s been brooding for two months. A person can build up a lot of hate in that length of time. And I’m skeptical when he says he doesn’t believe in witchcraft. It was an odd accusation, distraught or not. It’s more likely he thought a snake was the perfect symbol for revenge. Maybe he even knew how much she hated them.”

  “You’re not much help,” Josh said dryly. “I’ve been thinking along similar lines. Sutter’s saying the right things now, but he knew about Preston’s ritual room, and remember his odd comment about karma catching up with her? It implies revenge. And there’s all those outdoorsman magazines. What if he’s not an armchair sportsman but knows how to handle swamp snakes?”

  “Or was drunk enough to try,” Maggie said, warming again to Sutter’s possib
le guilt. “I guess he remains our prime suspect, and we tear his personal life apart.”

  Josh checked his watch as they crossed the empty squad room. “I hope you don’t mean tonight. I’m hungry and ready for a break. How about we head home to clean up? I’ll pick you up in an hour, and we can go to dinner.”

  She stiffened but hid her reaction by retrieving her pistol from her desk drawer. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “It’s only dinner, Maggie.”

  “Is it?” She made a production of holstering her SIG Sauer. “It’s too soon.”

  “Then when?” He stepped in her path as she turned to leave. “We need to talk, Maggie. When you stormed out two nights ago, you said we were taking a break. But I’m not sure what we’re taking a break from. Only you seem to know the rules.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Let’s not get into this when we’re both tired. I need time. That’s all.”

  “Time for what? As far as I can tell, you got bent out of shape because I tried to save my partner’s life. But I’m beginning to think that incident was only a smoke screen. What’s changed? Two weeks ago, everything was great between us. At least as far as I knew. Was I wrong?”

  “No, you weren’t wrong. But I realized…it’s just different now.”

  “Because? Realized what?” He leaned closer to her. “Maggie, if you don’t talk to me, nothing’s going to get better.” When she didn’t respond, he lifted his brows. “Is that what you want? Are you trying to find a way to end this…permanently?”

  Her head snapped up. First Annie, now Josh. Why were they making her the bad guy? Her voice filled with accusation. “You tried to take a bullet for me.”

  His eyes widened. “Is that what you really believe?” Josh spread his hands in apparent perplexity. “I counted his shots and knew the gun was empty.”

  “You weren’t positive. You couldn’t have been. It’s easy to miscount under fire. It was reckless.”

  “I was confident enough to make it a well-calculated risk. And I had my vest on. And it was the right move to make. So let me see if I can follow the logic here. You’re afraid I’ll die protecting you?” His eyes narrowed. “If so, isn’t the job the problem rather than the relationship? So what’s next, you want a new partner too?”

  Maggie swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “I don’t want to change either one, but I don’t want to lose you like that either.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have gotten involved with a cop.”

  “Exactly.” She tried to step around him, but he shifted to block her again. “This is why I didn’t want to talk tonight. I didn’t want us to say things we couldn’t take back. We’re about to go over that edge, Josh. I’m going home.”

  But he didn’t drop it. “How is breaking it off now going to help?” His eyes locked with hers, and he sounded bitter. “You’re cutting your ties before you get hurt? I thought we passed that point long ago, that you cared as much as I did. I’ve clearly been wrong about a lot of things.” He ignored the hand she reached out to him, turned, and walked toward the exit. “Forget dinner. You aren’t the only one who has thinking to do.”

  She took a step after him, then stopped. “Josh…”

  He kept walking and didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Maggie didn’t sleep well. She was up and running through the streets of New Orleans by five o’clock, wrestling with the personal questions that had plagued her sleep. Were Annie and Josh right? Was she so afraid of losing him that she’d deliberately pushed him away? Fighting to keep control of her life by choosing the time and means of loss? Sounded like a shrink question. And she wasn’t going near a professional mind snoop ever again.

  When she hit the path along the river, she nodded at another runner and stretched out her stride until her sweatband was soaked and slipping toward her brows from the excess moisture. She pushed it back in place, but the humidity even at this hour was oppressive, a low haze hovering just over the water. A couple walking three dogs stretched across her path, forcing her to drop into a jog and stop. Bending over with one hand on her knee, she steadied her breath and said “Good morning” to the couple, as they made a wide detour to keep the boisterous dogs from leaping on her.

  Finally straightening and drawing in the familiar river smells and morning calls of seagulls, she turned toward home. A hard run usually settled her but not this morning. What was she going to say to Josh today? What would he say to her? Would he ask the captain for a new partner? Should she?

  Her apartment building was just starting to stir when she returned. Lights shone from a few widows as early risers got ready for work, but many wouldn’t be up for another hour. As usual, she shunned the elevator and took the stairs to the third floor. Opening the stairwell door to the dim nightlights in her hallway, she froze, her pulse spiking.

  Not again. Dammit, not here.

  Valerie Preston stood twenty feet away. She hadn’t changed much, except her edges were fuzzier, and her blank stare seemed to go right through Maggie.

  But it wasn’t Preston’s ghost that sent Maggie’s heartbeat into overdrive. It was the two ghostly figures with her, less human, ethereal, something she knew had come through the Veil.

  Fighting her natural instincts, Maggie took a steadying breath and eyed the newcomers. Who were they? The PD only had one dead body. The luminescent forms, which in Maggie’s limited experience indicated they’d been dead a while, retained no gender markers. Some sixth sense told her they were—or had been—female. Remnants of what might have been long hair swirled around the head of the shorter spirit; a tinge of champagne color hinted she’d been a blonde. The other image had nothing unique except its unusual height, surpassing Preston’s five feet four by another five to six inches.

  “Who’s with you, and why are you here?” Maggie directed her questions to Preston in a whisper, mindful of the closed apartment doors around them. The hallway was a bad place for a confrontation, but at least they hadn’t gotten inside her home. Her protective wards were still working.

  None of the spirits responded. Not a word, not a twitch. Maggie blew out a breath of frustration. Selena had warned her she’d regret they couldn’t talk to her. Did the woman always have to be right?

  “This isn’t the place to play twenty questions. Or for you to hang out. Just tell me what you want.” She hated these silent appearances, putting the burden on her to guess what it meant. Dammit. Josh was better at this than she was. Another reason to wish he was there—and she didn’t need another one.

  She looked down at herself. A shower and a change of clothes from a sweaty tank top and running shorts were in order before anything else. “I can’t read your minds, but if you plan to take me somewhere, you’ll have to wait a few minutes. Stay here, and I’ll be right back.”

  Maggie showered and dressed in record time. She grabbed her SIGs, her flashlight, her keys…ready for anything. Steeling herself for another ghostly encounter, she opened her apartment door and stepped out.

  What? The hallway was empty. She checked both directions, but her ghostly visitors were gone. Relief and bewildered disappointment swept over her. Now what? She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial. At least she had something to break the ice.

  Josh answered on the second ring. “Brandt.” He sounded wide-awake despite the early hour. Had he also had a bad night?

  “I just had three visitors in my hallway—Preston and two others like her. How about talking it over at breakfast?”

  “I’ll meet you in ten minutes.” Short, to the point, neither warm nor cold.

  It was obvious he was up and dressed…and probably as tired as she was. Today might be a struggle to keep it professional, but Maggie was going to do her damnedest. She couldn’t allow him to push her into a decision she couldn’t live with…or to say something it would be too late to take back. Josh was so wrong about one thing. She did care about him. Too much was the problem.

  Her coffee had just been
poured when Josh walked into the corner cafe. They’d had breakfast here so many times that it felt natural, except for the coolness in his smile and the pang it brought to her heart. He looked tired but good. Even a sports jacket couldn’t diminish his athletic stride or hide his broad shoulders. She took a sip of the hot liquid and put her smile in place.

  “How’s the coffee?” he asked as he sat down.

  “Good as usual. I think it’s a fresh pot.”

  He took off his jacket and slung it over the spare chair before picking up the full carafe the waitress had left and filling the extra mug. “So what happened this morning?”

  “I went for an early run, and when I got back they were there…in the hallway outside my apartment.” She kept her voice low to prevent it from carrying to other tables and gave him the details, describing the two newcomers the best she could, and ending with their complete lack of response. “They just left without doing anything. I don’t know what they want.”

  “All women, huh? Any ideas who they could be?”

  Maggie waited until the waitress set down their usual orders—an eggs Benedict po’boy for him, a veggie omelet for her. “No clue, and I’m not positive they’re women. It was just a feeling. Since their forms were indistinct, I assume they’ve been dead for weeks or even months. But I don’t know where we go from there.”

  While Maggie’s appetite had suffered from the fight with Josh and the unsettling triple ghost sighting, Josh wasted no time in finishing off his po’boy. She was still picking at her food when he pushed his plate to the side and poured a second cup of coffee.

  “If this appearance was significant—and I can’t imagine it wasn’t—these two must be connected to Preston’s murder. Either they know her killer…” He paused as if following a line of thought. “Or they’re additional victims.”

  Maggie’s gaze flashed to his face. “A serial killer? Surely we would have heard about similar deaths, anything remotely ritualistic.”