Murder, Ye Bones

by Rachael Stapleton

  “Her great-niece showed up looking for her. Her name is Cat Nascimento,” Penny told them.

  “Did you say Cat Nascimento, like the Brazilian fashion blogger?” Danior asked.

  “Shh, don’t look now,” Izzy said suddenly. “I think she just came in.”

  Of course, they all turned to see.

  “I said don’t look,” Izzy said. “And she’s not just here—she’s here with Raul Oliviera.”

  “Who’s Raul?” Danior asked.

  “He’s the Inspector.”

  “Well, she walked in and he walked in, but that doesn’t mean they came together. So, Penny, is that the woman you were talking about?” Danior asked.

  Penny, who was staring wide-eyed at the door, simply nodded. “That is definitely her. Look at her outfit!”

  “She’s always showcasing new Afro-Brazilian designers,” Danior said. “Looks like she is talking to the Inspector. Maybe they did come in together.”

  “Raul is married,” Adriano pointed out.

  “I’ll go say hello and introduce you all,” Penny said.

  “You don’t need to do that,” Izzy protested.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Penny said, and left them, winding her way through the tables. All of them were silent, staring at Cat, who seemed startled when Penny reached her. She quickly smiled, though, and then, as Penny spoke, she looked toward their table—and caught all of them staring at her. She smiled and waved, and Penny led her over to their table. As they approached, Daemon stood, followed by Adriano and Emilion.

  “Cat Nascimento, I’d like you to meet my friends, Danior, Emilion and Daemon, and these lovely people are locals, Yasmin Donazan, Adriano Towns, and Izzy Carr. Everyone, Cat Nascimento.”

  “Hello, everyone. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The woman really was stunning, Daemon thought. She had that Brazilian guitar shape, curved in all the right places just like his own girlfriend, Mal. God, he missed her. Didn’t he? This wasn’t just jealousy, was it?

  “Consider yourself an insider now,” Adriano said gallantly. “Come and hang with us anytime. In fact, join us now.”

  “Really? Thank you.”

  “So, you’re Maman Brigitte’s great-niece?” Izzy asked.

  “Yep. I’ve been looking after her for the month while her nurse is on holiday. Maman is in excellent mental and physical health. Today…well, I guess Ms. Trubble told you what happened? The news keeps going on about that missing girl and the bones in the walls of the old plantation house.”

  Yasmin blanched at the comment, but Cat didn’t seem to notice.

  “Her daughter disappeared years and years ago on her way there. I think all this talk has caused a mental…tremor. She’s usually very lucid, really. I swear.”

  “Well, isn’t it just a full house in here tonight,” Raul Oliviera said interrupting, as he suddenly loomed beside their table. He didn’t seem pleased as he pulled up a chair, nudging in between Izzy and Penny.

  “You look grouchy,” Izzy told him.

  “What can I say? I get cranky when a local girl disappears without a trace,” he said, shaking his head. “I see you’ve all met Cat.”

  “So how do you two know each other?” Izzy asked, looking from Raul to Cat.

  “Maman Brigette had a bit of a weak spell one day when we were out walking…. I was trying to flag someone down for help when Raul came by. Nothing better than being helped by an officer of the law,” Cat said with a smile.

  Drinks kept coming, then eventually food, and the talk was casual. Then Danior yawned and said she needed some sleep. Emilion didn’t move until she stood and tapped him on the shoulder. Then he started and rose to join her, setting down money for his part of the bill.

  “I’ve got to go, too. I need a good night’s sleep,” Penny said, rising.

  Daemon rose, as well. “I’ll walk you,” he said.

  She tensed slightly, and for a moment he thought she was going to argue with him, but she seemed to think better of it and simply said, “Thanks.”

  Raul leaned back in his chair, staring up at Daemon. “Before you go…how was your day? Find out anything?” he asked.

  “Not yet but I’ll let you know when I do,” Daemon assured him, thinking that Raul looked like the perfect image of the overworked and weary cop at that moment.

  “Yeah. Come see me. I’d just like a rundown of everything you’re doing.”

  “Sure,” Daemon agreed.

  “Well, good night, all,” Penny said. She added money for the bill, and Daemon did the same.

  They waved and left, and Daemon noticed that Raul Oliviera didn’t return the gesture or even look up. He was too busy staring morosely into his beer.

  They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Penny suddenly said, “You did learn something today, didn’t you?”

  He laughed. “Very insightful. Okay, yes, I’m pretty sure Lise was here. And that the same person or persons snatched her and Bianca Santos.” He pulled a few of the folded-up brochures from his jeans pocket and handed them to her. “Lise made it to the island. I found someone on my way back from the ferry who saw her. She was interested in a ghost tour and she was meeting someone about a love spell. The guy said she was most interested in the Brewing Up History tour, so we should check it out. Given what we know about Bianca. I think the connection could be either one of the tours or some sort of Voodoo practitioner.” He hesitated. “Now it’s your turn to answer me. What freaked you out so much about Maman Brigette’s visit?”

  She thought hard for a minute.

  “She talked about the family that used to live here and there was just something so…so creepy about the way she talked about it. She really believes it’s happening again.”

  They reached her walkway. The plantation looked old and, yes, spooky in the moonlit darkness. “I want to look at the historical records and whatever newspaper files I can find. I want to see what went on in the plantation house over the years. I think I’ll put my investigative nose to the ground and hit the library tomorrow. What about you?”

  “I’ll head to the station in the morning to tell Inspector Oliveira what I learned today and find out everything the police have on the rest of the party list, and then I need to follow up on every last person who was near her and every possible clue. See if I can find that woman Bianca spoke to.”

  They bypassed the main house where the bones had been discovered and headed for the carriage house and the row of cabins, where Penny took out her keys.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay in here, alone? There’s two bedrooms in the carriage house. You’re welcome to stay with me in there.”

  “I’ll be okay. I’m not the damsel-in-distress type but you can check the place out for me, if it makes you feel better,” she said lightly, despite her words he thought he could read the need for reassurance in her tone.

  “Certainly,” he assured her.

  The cabin was definitely spooky, Daemon thought. There was still a slight feel of slasher horror flick about it, but it was decorated nicely.

  He opened the bathroom door, revealing both a claw-foot tub and a new glass-enclosed shower stall.

  There was obviously no one lurking in the bathroom.

  He checked the closet, looked under the huge four-poster bed, and checked the lock on the single window. “Everything looks good to me. No lingering witchy ghost vibes at all. Bolt your door and keep your cell phone close, I’ll be right next door,” he advised.

  “I will. Thank you, and Danior and Emilion are on the other side. Not to mention, I know martial arts and I was trained as a police officer,” she said with a hint of a smile.

  He walked past her to the door, careful to keep his distance from her. “Fair enough. Maybe you should walk me home.”

  Penny laughed. “Just shout real loud if you get into trouble.”

  Chapter Ten

  _____________

  T here was a tap on the door. A young officer came in at In
spector Oliveira’s bidding and handed him a file, which he in turn handed to Daemon. “This is the rest of what we’ve got.” Furrows appeared between his brows, the lines around his eyes deepening. “I’ve had my men cruising every street, we’ve searched in the water, and we’ve questioned every kid that was at the beach party before Bianca Santos disappeared,” Inspector Oliveira told Daemon.

  He was sitting behind his desk at the station, and now he leaned back, looking weary. “We were on this faster than a brushfire. If she was there to be found, we would have found her. I guess it’s good that you’re here ‘cause in my opinion she might as well be a ghost—she’s vanished into thin air. Anything you can find, we’ll be grateful to hear about.”

  Daemon nodded. “Thanks. I think we’re looking for someone who’s going after a certain physical type, and that the cases are related.”

  Oliveira shook his head. “I’ve only taken a few classes in behavioral crime, but I disagree. I mean, the doctor was an accident after all and the other two girls are just missing. They could be playing a joke, for all we know.

  “Could be. I hope so, but I doubt it.”

  “Well then, do you think this guy is escalating?”

  “Yes, or maybe he’s moving around,” Daemon suggested.

  “No one sees anything, and we’ve got nothing at all to go on,” Oliveira said glumly. “They say there’s no perfect crime, but this guy seems to be getting away with what he’s doing pretty well. No bodies, no blood, no signs of a fight or fingerprints, footprints, no witnesses—nada.”

  “Criminals are often strangely brilliant,” Daemon reminded him. “This guy may study people. Follow them, watch them, looking for the perfect victim, making the perfect plan. But sooner or later—and I hope like hell it’s sooner—he’ll make a mistake.”

  “Like I said, you have my blessing,” Oliveira told him. It looked to Daemon as if Oliveira hadn’t been sleeping—as if there were more on his mind than just the missing girls.

  Daemon stood and thanked him.

  He left the police station, leafing through the file he had been given. He was completely convinced that the parents had nothing to do with Bianca Santos’s disappearance. He was working on the theory that the same person or persons had abducted both girls.

  He pulled out the list of the kids who had been at the party. Breno Mason had mentioned the voodoo woman, perhaps it was time he checked out the beach.

  Across town, Daemon followed a well-worn path that twisted and turned along a jagged decline from the road to the beach where he found a darkened pit in the sand. Surrounded by coconut trees and washed by gentle waves, the beach was exquisite.

  He did a cursory visual search. There was no other access to the beach, unless you came by boat. It was possible that Bianca might have been taken by boat, but none of the kids had mentioned seeing one. The file had told him that the last kids on the beach had been Breno and Aline. They had made sure that the fire was dead and the garbage had all been cleaned up.

  Bianca had disappeared at some previous point, but no one remembered when she had left the party. There had been too many kids, most of them drunk or stoned.

  Daemon walked into the rainforest to the north. A trail of beaten-down vegetation led away from the sand, and he followed it.

  It curved around and joined the main path between the beach and the road. The kids might have been followed by the kidnapper, who broke off into the trees and observed them from there until he—or she—found a chance to grab Bianca. Could the mystery woman have been the kidnapper? It was certainly possible.

  And Bianca, fascinated as she was, might have gone looking for the woman again. And the woman might have led her to the road while the others were busy drinking and smoking and pairing off in the moonlight.

  Bianca would have gone willingly, fascinated by everything the woman had told her.

  He took a seat on the sand and closed his eyes.

  There was a reason why he had opened up paranormal investigations; he had a gift and it was time to use it.

  He called out to Bianca to show herself. He could feel her energy there like a ghostly imprint. She appeared in front of him.

  This lonely beach was the perfect spot. If he opened his mind, she would show him the past, the flames leaping, the kids celebrating, and Bianca…He would see what had happened to Bianca.

  And he had to do it, because there was a killer on the loose. The threads were beginning to fit together, and he had to add to the pattern with whatever he could discover in the depths of his mind.

  For a moment he just stared at her and listened to the sounds around him. The surf, moving in gently. The wind, barely a whisper in the trees. In his mind, he saw shadows, the coming of twilight.

  The first kids arrived, carrying a big cooler. Breno had one side of the cooler, Bianca the other. They were laughing as they kept dropping one side or the other. Bianca accused Breno of being a weakling.

  Aline Silva was right behind them; he recognized her from her picture in the file. She was a tall girl with long, dark curly hair, carrying bags of chips and a box of garbage bags. They knew they had to clean up. If a single beer can was found, they would be busted.

  Breno told the girls to start finding wood for the fire, while he dug in the sand to create a pit.

  In his mind’s eye, Daemon imagined the birth of the fire, the way it smoked at first, then took hold. He saw Bianca dancing around the rising flames, chanting something she had learned from a book, teasing Breno and Aline and the others, perhaps telling them that she was ready to serve the spirits….

  Then the woman walked out of the woods. Her face was painted white, which made her bright orange cat eyes stand out. She wore a live snake around her neck, and she smiled at Bianca, who had stopped and gone silent at the sight of her. She spoke in a pleasant tone, assuring the kids she wasn’t going to report them and asking Bianca about the words she’d been chanting.

  The woman saw something in Bianca, and Bianca saw something in her, as well. The stranger stepped closer to Bianca, who was separated from the others by the leaping bonfire. The woman said something to Bianca in a hushed tone, and the other two were totally unaware of the conversation. Seconds later, the woman left them, laughing, waving, telling them to be careful.

  Moments later, more partygoers began to arrive, bringing food, booze and pot. Music played in the background, and he could hear the laughter, the teasing, see kids pairing off and heading into the shadows….

  He concentrated, and he saw Bianca Santos, looking around, then starting along the trail back toward the road. She was seen by dozens of witnesses, yet not seen at all.

  The ghostly memories skipped ahead and suddenly, he was in her body. There was a low-lying fog that seemed to dance around her, wrapping her like a blanket, encouraging the heaviness of her form as she watched another girl dig a hole. Or maybe it was her digging the hole? The girl looked just like her, maybe this was an out of body experience. But even as the sense of well-being warmed her, an inner voice warned her that she needed to shake off the leaden blanket and run.

  Because the ground was trembling, erupting like a volcano, shifting the old stones that lay askew nearby. A shower of dirt skittered over her.

  Her last thoughts made him sad. She had not come to dig up bones as a sacrifice to the love goddess. She had come to dig a grave—her own grave.

  She was the sacrifice.

  He opened his eyes, rose and dusted off his jeans.

  The sun was beginning to set. The view was spectacular as the sun crouched low on the horizon, painting the sky with bands of gold and orange and creeping purple.

  It was a beautiful place, giving the impression of being wild and even a little forlorn in its beauty, despite its relative proximity to the road.

  Palm extended like a compass needle pointing true north, a pulse guided him across the beach.

  Daemon walked down to the water.

  And found the corpse.

  Chapter E
leven

  _____________

  I had expected to hear from Daemon by now. My afternoon at the local library had been a productive one and I hoped his had been too. I’d printed out the records I’d discovered online, and I’d begun reading a journal kept by Nellie Rigdon, daughter of the local undertaker Leo Rigdon.

  Surprisingly, the librarian had allowed me to take the journal back to the Plantation, though it was fragile. I knew I was lucky to be reading it. Even as I stood on the sidewalk staring up at the Plantation, so many things racing through my mind. The things I’d just been reading, they’d all taken place right here in this house. Nellie’s mother had died young, and her father’s housekeeper, who had come to live at the Plantation with them, was, in Nellie’s words, “a witch.” And not just figuratively, either. The woman scared her; she treated Nellie badly but served her father faithfully and ran the house—and the mortuary—faultlessly, so Leo wasn’t about to fire her.

  Twilight was just beginning to arrive. The heat of the day was waning, and everything seemed a bit softer without the glare of the sun. There were no cars parked in front of the Plantation as I passed and so I headed for the cabin instead. I curled up on the bed, and continued reading. Nellie thought the housekeeper whom she mostly referred to as the Voodoo Queen hated her because of a facial birthmark. Nellie described her as a beautiful ageless octoroon of mixed blood who told her repeatedly that she was cursed—that the mark was a sign of her mother’s unfulfilled wishes. Her twin sister, Dora on the other hand was unmarred and so was the pretty one in Nellie’s eyes. Nellie who seemed also obsessive at times about the mark, attempted to rid herself of the curse using the housekeeper’s book of spells that she believed was dedicated to maintaining the Voodoo Queen’s youth. She’d also recorded sampling the housekeeper’s jars that contained all sorts of loathsome things, dried and preserved animal parts, herbs and potions, and other similarly repulsive bits.

  I was restless, and though I was enjoying the memoir, I found my mind wandering every few pages.

  Finally, I put the book down and texted Daemon and Danior. Then I tried my boyfriend Cody, but he wasn’t available, either.