Answering the Call

by Ali Vali

  “Okay, listen.” She nodded to Nathan at the door and put two fingers up. “I’ve got to go, but I promise I’m not picking on Carla or your mother. I’m following a legitimate lead until I can clear her.”

  “Or not,” Keegan said.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, hating to hang up, but she had to. “I’ll call when I can, but could you call your mother if Carla hasn’t already and warn her just in case?”

  “We promise, and don’t forget to stay in touch,” Keegan said and hung up.

  “Sept, I can’t believe it,” Nathan said on the way back up.

  “It’s not up to us to believe it. It’s up to us to prove it.” She stopped before getting to the second floor and let Nathan go by her. “What can I do for you, Anabel?”

  “Tell me you don’t believe this? There’s no way Carla St. John is some accomplished killer with dozens of kills to her name.”

  “I’m not accusing her of anything yet, but they pay me to run down leads and arrest bad guys. You don’t excuse someone because they took out your gallbladder. Believe me, I hope it’s not her.”

  “I still have my gallbladder, thank you, but St. John isn’t our perp.”

  “Let me get in there, and we’ll see.” She made it up the stairs, and Anabel grabbed her arm.

  “One last thing. Why question her up here? Why not an interrogation room?”

  “We already have someone in lockup because they sold information. I want a room with no opportunists behind the glass or watching the video.”

  Anabel nodded and let her go. The conference room was still quiet, and she didn’t want to waste any more time, so she let Nathan go in first and closed the door before anyone else got any cute ideas. She dropped her file onto the table, and Carla looked at her warily.

  “I need to start by informing you of your rights,” she said, and Carla’s hands went up.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Carla said, but Nathan Mirandized her.

  “Your attorney will tell you the best thing is to keep quiet, but last night I got my first real clue, and it led right to your door. That’s not like a parking ticket I can fix and it’s forgotten.” The pictures of the statues made both Carla and the woman in a great suit sitting next to her look down. “According to the store’s records, you purchased these during the trip you took to New York.”

  “Carla told me about this, Sept, but let’s be reasonable. She’s going to buy these things in a way that can be traced to her, then turn around and leave them at a scene where she supposedly killed two people?” The attorney seemed to try and failed at not being sarcastic.

  “I’m not after anything but an explanation,” she said, holding up the picture.

  “I didn’t buy those. I was at a conference, and the only shopping I did was to pick up some earrings for Melinda. I ate at the hotel every night, and I was gone only three days.” The way Carla spoke made Sept think the usually cool doctor was about to unravel.

  “Listen to me, okay,” Sept said, flipping the page over. “We’ve got your bank records, and they confirm what I’m saying. The amount to cover these was wired from your bank. You did buy these.”

  “I was hacked, then,” Carla countered. “Come on. The shop had to have surveillance videos or something, if these things really cost that much.”

  Someone knocked, so Nathan got up to answer the door. Her father was waiting to get in to talk to her. “Nathan, could you give the captain an update?”

  “Sure.”

  Once they walked out, Sept gazed at the attorney and paused before she spoke. “Carla, if you trust me at all, I need to talk to you alone.”

  “No way,” the attorney predictably said.

  “I don’t want to question her about anything. I want to talk to her as someone who knows her. That’s it, and it’s up to you,” she said, staring at Carla.

  “I’ll be okay,” Carla said to her attorney.

  The woman moved slowly but did go. Carla placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her upturned hands. “Want to finish me off?”

  “Listen to me, and you’ll get through this. I give you my word.”

  * * *

  They allowed Carla to leave through the back to avoid being seen. Sept told the team she was taking off early to make up the sleep she’d lost from the night before. The only people she lingered with were Nathan and her brothers.

  “So you don’t have enough to hold her?” Jacques asked, sitting on the table where she’d interviewed Carla.

  “More than enough, but if it’s her, she didn’t leave enough evidence except for the conveniently found receipt and choice of orisha.” The private conversation she’d had with Carla had gone surprisingly well. “She’s on her way back to her house, and Melinda will most likely join her.”

  Her cell phone rang, and she was surprised Julio was calling her. “Sept, I know you’ll think we’re crazy, but I’ve got to warn you.”

  “Hey, Julio,” she said for the benefit of the people around her and because of her amusement over his telephone etiquette. “What’s wrong?”

  “I know you said not to discuss the case,” he said, and she sighed, staring at the ceiling, “but I didn’t think you’d mind if Matilda knew only the basics.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” she said, even though it wasn’t. “Did she think of something? Did she figure out who Chloe’s altar would’ve been dedicated to?”

  “Her best guess is Chango’s wife Oshun, since the other two were for Ibeji, their children. That doesn’t really lead us anywhere except that Oshun will turn bitter if crossed.” Sept heard a woman she assumed was Matilda speaking in rapid Spanish, but the voice was too muffled to understand. “Today is the fourth of the month, and there’s a full moon.”

  “You lost me,” she said, hoping this was the last case of her career that involved religion. It entailed so much to remember, and rituals weren’t her forte.

  “Chango’s feast day, or most important day, is December the fourth. That was months ago, but still months to come. Do you think the killer will wait that long? Especially if the fourth falls on the fourth day of the week.” Julio was speaking so fast she had to concentrate to understand him. “If Hunter’s game is to kill you—tonight will be the night.”

  “Thank you for the warning, because I do think Hunter plans to kill me as an end to all this.”

  “Matilda says to be vigilant and don’t take the beads off.”

  “I haven’t since she put them there.” She hung up and told the guys what Julio had said. “For the night, I need you to put a car in front of Carla’s place and one behind it.”

  “You think she’d try to kill you now?” Nathan asked.

  “I didn’t finish what I wanted to say before this call. Remember our case with Perlis. This time around, Carla is playing the role of my brother-in-law Damien. All the clues we could link to someone were too easy. She’s not an amateur one second, then a proficient killer the next.” She’d figured the night before, after the momentary insanity of suspecting Carla, that the choice of saints who in life had been doctors wasn’t random. “The divine twins were doctors, and a doctor I know buys the statues at a crime scene, but the surveillance footage shows a flunky picking them up? I don’t buy it, especially if one of the saints is named Damain. The spelling of the names is different, but it’s pronounced the same.”

  “Then why watch Carla?” Gustave asked.

  “Remember what happened to our Damien, or what almost happened to him and Nathan? I wasn’t going to be Perlis’s only victim that night. Hunter set Carla up for a reason, and whatever that is probably includes killing her. Whoever you send, make sure they’re invisible.”

  “The owner of those types of vehicles is right outside,” Jacques said. “I’ll get Anabel to send the smallest, most nondescript thing in her fleet.”

  “Sounds like we need to drop a big circle of protection around you,” Gustave said. “Hunter will go after you
, if tonight is some special night.”

  “She had three on her slate the other night, so don’t underestimate her.”

  “We need a plan, then,” Nathan said.

  “I have time to cover what it is only once before the sun goes down.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Hunter was ready to tell the world about her brilliance, and this night would be the best of her career. Her next moves would prove that. “You’ve come as close as you’re going to get, Sept,” Hunter said, packing the trunk with what she needed. Once Savoie was dead, she had one thing left to do, and then she’d be ready to begin the next chapter.

  She’d followed Savoie home, and the place was surrounded by goons. She was trying to think of a way to lure her out when Savoie slammed out with her slut screaming behind her. “You’ve finally shown your true stupidity, and the price of failure will cost you this life,” she said, smiling as she pulled out before Sept made it to her car. Wherever Savoie went, she’d find her later because of the tracker she’d placed on her car. “Time to prepare.”

  That had been a couple of hours ago, and she couldn’t have asked for a better outcome if she’d written a script and Savoie had agreed to follow it. The great warrior had gone back to work, then headed for St. John’s place. Obviously getting her rich little bitch to talk to her again was more important than procedure.

  The house had to be under surveillance, so she parked two blocks down and came in from the side instead of the front or back. Carla’s house was perfect because it was raised and the trap door from the utility closet was now accessible after she’d undone the boards that had been placed to secure it.

  It was a tight fit, but she came up next to the air-conditioner unit, where she’d placed the bag she’d put there two weeks before. She was here, and both her targets were waiting for her, which was a testament to how well her plan had worked.

  “I ask you again,” Carla said, sounding angry, “why are you even here?”

  “I have a job like you do. You can’t blame me for doing it,” Savoie said just as defensively. “You know I had no choice, so you didn’t have to turn Melinda and every one of them against me.”

  Hunter smiled, since her predication was correct. Eventually everyone in Savoie’s life would turn their backs on her, and that was half of the equation of what she’d planned. Killing someone only to make them a martyr or hero wasn’t as satisfying as completely stripping them of honor and dignity before their last breath.

  The closet she was in was off the back door, which was perfect to peek out of since it was visible only from the back and the laundry room across from it. She doubted Savoie was arguing and pleading her case over a load of dirty clothes.

  She loaded her weapon and carefully cracked the door, seeing the area was clear. They must’ve moved to the large den off the kitchen. “You challenged me to face you, and here I am,” she said softly as she swung the door open and squeezed out.

  The argument had stopped, so she shouldered her weapon and walked toward the den, not making a sound on the tile floor. “I didn’t turn anyone against you—you did that yourself with the dumb move today,” Carla said, and it seemed like she was headed toward her, so Hunter stopped.

  Carla appeared from behind the half wall with a can in her hand and stopped at the sight of her. She had no chance to enjoy the fear in Carla’s expression before she pulled the trigger, and the good doctor fell backward with her lips forming a perfect O. Savoie, like an idiot, came running with no weapon in hand, and Hunter pulled the trigger again.

  “Wait,” Savoie got out before she fell pretty much the same as Carla. The way she gasped for breath and grimaced made her move closer and place her crossbow on the granite counter. The double-tipped bolts, guaranteed to bring a big buck down, had worked beautifully. She removed Savoie’s weapon and placed it next to the bow.

  “Alex should have hobbled you before the kill. Right now, your lung is collapsed and probably filling with blood, but that’s what the warrior craves, isn’t it?” She bent and studied Savoie’s face, which was a perfect mask of pain. “Believe me, you’ll bleed plenty more before we’re done.”

  “You…bitch,” Savoie said, each word sounding like it took tremendous effort.

  “No. I was nice and waited until you were healed before we played the game. I didn’t want any excuses of how you were cheated of a chance to win because you weren’t at your best.” She went back for her kill bag, already anticipating escape down the trap door and out of this place as much as the kill. She wished she could witness all the law enforcement coming in and finding these two dead.

  “Let her go,” Sept said, taking a deep breath and wincing even more. “It’s me you want.”

  “The truth is, I want both of you, so I can’t let either of you go.” She dragged Savoie to the den, admiring her for not yelling.

  “Let me see your face, then,” Savoie said, and Hunter cocked her head, considering the request. No one had ever asked her that, not thinking it was the most important thing at the moment of their imminent death.

  “Did you guess anyone but Carla?” she asked, keeping the mask in place since it was always a rule to do so. “You really do owe her and the little women an apology. You got this so wrong.”

  “Nicole, I just needed you to tip your hand,” Savoie said, looking pleased with herself. “You should’ve chosen, ah…” Sept said weakly, placing her hand against the shaft of the bolt when Hunter pressed down on it. “Chosen another god than Ibeji. Using the statues to try to blame Carla was a huge mistake,” Sept said with great difficulty.

  She took the mask off and combed her hair back, glad to be out of the confinement of the leather. “I’d waste time asking you why you think that, but the game is done. You’re supposed to be the last piece, but it’s your time.”

  The large coffee table at the center of the room was a perfect place to tie Savoie up and finish the altar Alex couldn’t. She dragged Sept over and zip-tied one wrist to the iron leg before securing the other one. “Ripping your heart out will be one of the most satisfying accomplishments of my life.” She poured the salt and lit the red and white candles. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll make it a point to drop by the restaurant and console your little bitch.”

  “Fuck…ah,” Sept said when she touched the bolt again.

  She placed the hand-carved statue of St. Barbara above Sept’s head. “Another beautiful thing you purchased Dr. St. John,” she said, loud enough for Carla to hear her from the kitchen after she quieted Sept. The last two things were cornmeal and bananas so Julio Munez would declare it a true altar to the king of the orishas. “Now it’s only missing your heart, but that’s easy to fix.”

  The moment had come, and it would make a great chapter in the book she’d write for herself. Those volumes would become public only after her death, but they contained the most accurate story of the chameleon killer. She’d mastered every possible way to kill, and she’d enjoyed the ride.

  “Good-bye, warrior.” She raised the knife over her head and took one last look at Sept’s face for any type of expression. What she saw was defiance before the surprise that made her lift her head suddenly. The laser sight was pointed at her chest. It made her bring her arms down to finish, but then she saw only darkness.

  Her game was done.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “Took you long enough,” Sept said as one of the SWAT guys cut her loose so the EMTs could get to her.

  “Surveillance didn’t pick her up, so thank Carla for not holding a grudge and calling me,” Gustave said. “Good thing is, your plan of baiting the trap worked. Sounds like Voles wanted you both.”

  Sept groaned when they loaded her, and she put her hand up when they got close to Carla. “I’m so sorry this happened. I didn’t think she’d already be in the house.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Carla said, taking her hand. “Maybe my injury will soften Della up.”

  “If it does, then put in a good word with Melinda f
or me.”

  Gustave directed the EMTs through the front door, and she smiled when Keegan’s face appeared above her. “Why is an arrow sticking out of your chest?”

  “I found the missing piece from Lee Cenac’s altar. It’s the arrow of the hunter,” she said slowly, the pain overwhelming her.

  “I’m so glad you at least kept the promise to come back to me,” Keegan said. Earlier when they’d had their “fight,” in case Nicole was watching, Sept had explained her plan to go to Carla’s to lure their killer out. Melinda had thankfully agreed not to follow Carla home once they all knew backup was in place to prevent the worst. She and Carla were on their third version of the same fight when Nicole finally materialized.

  “Always,” she said with the last of her reserves. “I have that thermometer job to do.” Keegan pushed her way into the back of the ambulance and prayed as they got a large police escort to the hospital. Sept had passed out, but the guy sitting beside Keegan assured her she was breathing on her own and her pulse was strong.

  The hospital’s emergency room was a zoo again because of the officer-down call and also because they were treating one of their own. Carla was a respected staff physician whom the hospital workers really liked.

  “You should marry her, Mom,” Keegan told Melinda when they took Sept and Carla into surgery. “Don’t let her get away.”

  “I never thought…well, you know, seeing me with someone new…” Melinda shrugged as if she didn’t know how to go on.

  “Mom, we loved Mama, but you’re too young and have too much to offer to be alone. Carla loves you, and if Sept plans to end every case getting impaled with something, it’ll be good to have her around,” Keegan said, hugging her mom. “You might want to convince her to sell the house so there won’t be any bad memories, but Jacqueline and I will be happy for you.”