“Right. We’re on it.”
Chapter Eighteen
_____________
T he wind had whooshed the door shut. No big deal. That had become my new mantra. And I certainly wasn’t frightened. But as I turned and strained to see in the dark, I couldn’t help but wonder why the lightbulb would have blown at the precise moment that the door closed?
I forced myself to think rationally, climbed the steps to the door and turned the knob. Or tried to.
Panic bubbled. Locked? Not possible. I tried it again, then beat my fists against the unyielding wood. “Down here!” I yelled.
Wait a minute. If someone had just locked me in the Plantation’s basement, I really shouldn’t be antagonizing them.
I turned around again, desperately trying to see in the darkness, and told myself to plan. I had my martial arts training if they came down. Being frightened was a natural first reaction, but being calculated was better.
A crack of light seeped into the basement from…somewhere in the corner.
Hallelujah!
I started down the stairs again, perhaps a little too enthusiastically and then, to my horror, I stumbled.
Swearing, I reached out in the darkness, trying to find the rail, but it might as well have been a slip and slide.
With a thump and some explosive curse words, I landed at the bottom of the steps.
What an Eve Banter thing to do. If only she were here to kick me and laugh.
I lay on the floor for several long moments, feeling sorry for myself then I flexed my muscles and picked by clumsy behind up. Luckily, I was unscathed.
Still in the locked basement, but unscathed. Yay me!
I readied my stance and inched forward into the dark. I couldn’t see a dang thing.
If I couldn’t see and someone else was in the basement with me, at least that person couldn’t see, either. Right? This wasn’t like a game of peek-a-boo with a child who covered their eyes and turned invisible, was it?
I held very still. Nothing happened.
I continued to wait, holding my breath, for what seemed like forever.
As I waited, I realized that those fractured particles of light seemed to be seeping back into the basement. From where?
As I stood there, a strange warmth settled over me.
Something—someone—touched my shoulder. I wanted to scream, but I was frozen with fear.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.
I had hit my head in the fall and was now imagining things. Or maybe my mind had fled in reaction to the terror.
Still, it felt as if someone were leading me to the light. As I neared the corner, I noticed a number of old wooden barrels, trunks and crates—some had been haphazardly stacked. I could climb them…oh, wait, you weren’t supposed to go into the light, were you? Please God, I’m not ready. I can’t leave my Dad alone with Eve in the world.
Instead I backed off and moved to the side. It was then, I spied a dumbwaiter hidden behind one of the wine racks. I was really not fond of small spaces but I made a break for it, wriggling myself in. I could hear voices coming from the top of the stairs now. It almost sounded like Yasmin but something told me I wasn’t safe. This was not the time to ignore my gut, so I slammed the door shut and hoisted myself toward freedom. Thank goodness I was so fit. Actually, it was kind of nice. I really hadn’t been getting enough exercise lately.
At last, the dumbwaiter reached the top. Grunting, I pushed against the door with my fists, then my feet, but it was hopelessly stuck.
“Shoot?” I whispered. So much for rescuing myself. “Hello? Anybody there?”
Chapter Nineteen
_____________
D aemon raced up the Plantation’s steps. As he got to the door, he heard her cell phone ringing—inside.
“Penny!”
He tried the door. It was open, and he cursed under his breath as he rushed inside.
“Penny!” he shouted again, anxiety rising in his tone as he followed the sound of the ringing.
Her purse was in the library, her cell phone inside it.
“Hey!” Carlos called to him, walking around the corner with Izzy and Yasmin just as Emilion and Danior came in the front door.
“You haven’t found her?” Daemon asked.
“No, we just got here. We keep calling and calling, but…nothing,” Izzy said.
He turned and headed for the stairs, then ran up them two at a time. Izzy hurried into one direction, Danior and Emilion into the other.
Daemon saw the door to the basement standing ajar. Had she gone down there, hoping to find a hidden clue? He threw it open and looked down into the darkness. “Penny!”
Chapter Twenty
_____________
“P
enny!” A moment later, the door opened and Emilion’s hand appeared. I took it gratefully, slowly unbending my arms and legs and stepping out of the cramped box.
“Where the hell have you—” Danior broke off, just two feet away.
“Penny? Thank God.” Izzy and Yasmin echoed, crashing into Carlos.
I offered them all a weak smile. “Hi, guys.”
“What happened to you?” Daemon asked. Coming around the corner to join us in the Plantation’s kitchen.
Emilion stepped to the side so I could face the firing squad.
“An unintentional game of hide and seek.” I retorted. “I locked myself in the basement. I know, it’s idiotic.”
“And you wound up in the kitchen?” Daemon asked. “People have been call—”
“How did you get out?” Izzy asked, cutting across him.
“The dumbwaiter. I got stuck, but Emilion was searching back here and heard me calling.”
“Did this all just happen now?” Daemon asked again.
I turned my gaze to him and smiled, a bit embarrassed. “Yes.”
“Oh, my God, we were so worried. We’ve been calling you and calling you,” Izzy said.
“I’m sorry, but I’m also very grateful that you were so concerned.”
“Well, a lot of scary shit has been going down, and when we couldn’t find you—” Emilion said.
“I know, and thanks for rescuing me,” I said again, then looked down at myself and grimaced. “I think I need to take a shower.”
“I think you need to stay away from here until it’s up and running again, Danior said. “It’s creepy you coming here all alone.”
“Oh, Danior,” Yasmin protested. “It’s not the plantation’s fault. It was an accident. She locked herself in the basement and got stuck in the dumbwaiter.”
“Regardless of fault, what if it happened again?” Danior said defensively.
“I don’t think I’ll be doing that again, but thanks for your concern. Anyway, I’m an investigative journalist who knows martial arts, remember? This is my wheelhouse. And right now, I’m going back to wheel myself back to my cabin to take a shower, because I’m starving and I want to go to dinner. You all go and get some appetizers or something. Please. I’ll catch up.”
“I don’t know about that,” Emilion said.
Penny turned and glared. “Why? Do you think I’ll climb back in the dumbwaiter and do a bit of joy riding?”
“I’ll wait for her,” Daemon said. “I have to change anyway.”
“Okay,” Izzy said slowly. “If you’re sure? Because we can wait.”
“I’ll move faster if you aren’t all waiting for me. Now go!” Penny replied.
Danior brushed a piece of cobweb off my forehead—then the others all headed for the door. “Stay out of confined spaces.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
And then they left, with Yasmin closing the front door in her wake.
A quietness settled as we followed them out and walked the path back to the cabin. Once we were far enough away, Damon eyed me skeptically, “You okay?”
“Of course,” I replied. “It’s only…” My voice dropped off as I contemplated saying it out loud. “I tried the door. I could swear i
t was locked.”
“And the reason you were hanging out in the basement?” he asked.
“I was waiting for Yasmin to return—reading in the library…I thought I heard someone else in the house, maybe Adriano. When I went to look, the basement door was ajar, and I saw a light on down there. I thought—”
“Was Adriano’s truck in the yard?” Daemon asked.
“I never looked outside. Anyway, then the lightbulb blew and I thought I was locked in, but then I saw light coming from a corner of the basement and realized that by climbing up on some old crates I could reach the screen. Only I heard voices—probably you guys but I panicked and jumped in the dumbwaiter instead. I didn’t realize it was so filthy.”
The look on his face told me he thought there was more to the story so I decided to shift topics, “You won’t believe how much I found out today. I was reading a journal written by Nellie Rigdon. er father was a monster, and there was a murderer killing women here at the time. Possibly Rigdon and his housekeeper, the Voodoo Queen. She was supposedly some kind of a priestess witch.”
“Funny you should say that, I went to see the Voodoo Queen,” Daemon told me.
“What?”
“Before she disappeared, Bianca Santos spoke to a woman at the beach who claimed to be a Voodoo Queen. So, I found an advertisement for a Voodoo Queen here on the island, and went out to see her,” Daemon said.
“And?”
“She was a harmless little old woman who bakes delicious cookies,” he said.
“That’s suspect. Just look at Eve.”
Damon laughed. “No, this woman was actually harmless. It was definitely a pointless trip. She did know about the housekeeper though,” he said, then looked thoughtful for a moment.
Chapter Twenty-One
_____________
“ Where’s Don Juan D’Oliviera?” Danior asked, leaning in to be heard over the music.
“Must have found a new spot to get his cheat on,” Emilion said playing along. “He should be spending every second looking for the murderer.”
“All work and no play…that’s no fun,” Daemon remarked.
I gave Damon a sideways glance. Wasn’t that his girlfriend, Mallory Vianu’s biggest complaint: that he worked all the time? Oblivious, much?
“Any word on the Santos girl?” Emilion asked.
Daemon shook his head.
“What about the body on the beach?” Danior asked, her eyes wide.
“We haven’t identified her yet,” Daemon said. “It takes time. Forensic science is pretty amazing, but it’s not as instantaneous as television would have you believe.”
Izzy shivered. “Terrifying…”
“It is,” Carlos nodded. “Three women missing or dead now.”
“It’s possible that Lise and Bianca will still show up,” Danior offered hopefully.
“It’s possible that Oliviera’s not really cheating,” Emilion retorted with a laugh.
“It’s not impossible,” Daemon hedged. As he spoke, he glanced at the caller ID on his phone and excused himself.
Danior looked across the table at me. “We need another round to celebrate your escape from the spooky basement.”
“The house is just a house. Those bones were old, but there’s a real killer out there now,” Carlos said.
Emilion rolled his eyes. “I think we’re obsessing on this more than the cops are. So, let’s forget all about it and dance,” he said, nodding toward the dance floor. When no one moved, he said, “Danior?”
“Sure,” she said, and shrugged unenthusiastically.
Izzy, Carlos and I made small talk until Daemon returned to the table fifteen minutes later. Whatever he had heard during his phone call had made him quiet. He sat down, then said, “I think I need to call it a night. Trubble, you ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m all set,” I said, then frowned. Emilion was coming back, weaving between tables, and he was alone. “Where’s Danior?”
“Still on the dance floor,” Emilion pouted. “She’s dancing with one of the locals now.”
“We were going to take off,” I told him. “But if you need me to stay… I can.”
He looked startled; then he smiled. “Of course not, I can keep myself busy while Danior shakes her tailfeather. Go ahead. See you tomorrow.”
“We’ll hang out for a few more minutes,” Izzy said, looking at Carlos. “That way you won’t have to sit here alone.”
Emilion smiled again, shaking his head. “You’re all free to go. Honestly. I have been in a bar by myself before.”
I took him at his word and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then told him to tell Danior good-night when she returned.
Carlos and Izzy left with us, but at the boardwalk, they split up to walk their separate ways.
Daemon glanced at me.
“Who was that on the phone?” I asked.
“Wesley,” he told me.
“Wesley?” I echoed, surprised. “What’s up?”
“He found traces of a hallucinogen in the dead woman’s system.”
“She was on LSD?”
“He’s not sure what. He doesn’t have all the results in yet. I’ll head over to see him in the morning,” Daemon said, his tone thoughtful.
“We need to see Maman Brigette again. Her daughter disappeared, too. It was years ago, but maybe history is repeating itself. She wants to help, and it’s possible she knows something, that her memory will trigger something…. Maybe we can even help her by finding out what happened to her daughter.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
_____________
“D
aemon?”
He heard his name called, but it seemed to come from a distant place, or maybe he was only hearing it in his mind.
He opened his eyes…
And saw a girl.
No, not just a girl. One of the missing girls. She was standing at the foot of the bed, her blonde hair tied back with a ribbon.
“Help me.”
Daemon stared, sure that he was dreaming, yet he couldn’t shake himself awake.
“Help me, please. And help yourself. I know what happened to me, and who did it.”
As he continued to stare, the apparition beckoned to him.
“Please.”
Daemon rose slowly, still staring at the ghostly girl. He crossed to the nearest window and smoothed his fingers along the top of the frame until they brushed against lukewarm metal. He palmed a skeleton key from where the ghost pointed.
Then he padded outside barefoot, the plush lawn tickling the soles of his feet. The low, wrought-iron gate leading out of the carriage house yard opened under his hand, and he followed the flagstone path under the archway dripping with fragrant jasmine blossoms and lush purple wisteria clusters to the back of Penny’s cabin. The ghost stood on the exterior basement doors then pointed down. “You want me to open them?”
She disappeared and he followed her down the concrete steps into a small dirt basement. There were six iron steamer trunks stacked in two rows. He extended his palm toward the stacks, and, like a dowser in search of precious water, followed the persistent tug of magic to its source.
Each trunk must have weighed a hundred pounds, and glass clinked from within one of them when he lifted them away. Somehow, he knew the one at the bottom belonged to the Voodoo Queen. At last, he made it to the final trunk.
“Here goes nothing.” He fit the key into the mouth of the lock and twisted until the latch sprang free.
“Daemon?” Penny said, firmly. “What in the hell are you doing in here? I almost attacked you.”
He looked up to see Penny with knees bent in a karate style pose looking very upset.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Everything still felt like a dream. Without saying more, he moved the loosely piled vintage clothing inside the trunk and revealed bones.
Bones nestled in decaying clothing.
“Oh, my God…” Penny breathed from behind him.
“It
’s Francisca,” Daemon said with grim certainty.
“How do you know?” She whispered. “You saw her, didn’t you? You saw a ghost.”
He nodded. “What time is it?”
“It feels like three in the morning. We need to call Oliveira. They’ll want to get the anthropologist in here.” Penny said. “There could be more bodies in those trunks.”
“I don’t think so, but we’ll certainly check.” He replied.
Penny had started up the stairs, “Penny, wait. No point in waking the man up. The girls been missing since ’72, another hour or two isn’t going to make any difference. I’m headed to see Wesley and him this morning anyway, and I’ll bring them back here and we can figure out how to proceed and whether this has anything to do with everything else going on.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
_____________
I woke in a nest of twisted sheets. Getting back to sleep after having the bejeebus scared out of you at three in the morning was no easy task. Not to mention, the cabin didn’t exactly have air conditioning and though it was autumn back home, the nights barely dropped below seventy here on the Island. I might have cracked a window, were there not a murderer running loose.
Instead, I’d locked the door to the basement and stripped down to my underwear to get some relief. The clatter of dishes jarred me, and I leapt to my feet, pulse thundering in my ears. “Who’s there?”
More clatter. Great! The M.E was probably here, along with the police and I was naked.
After pulling on my kimono wrap—along with one of Cody’s oversized shirts, I shoved open the door and padded into the hall. That’s when the dueling scents hit me. Coffee. Cinnamon. Bacon. Well, this was certainly a more thoughtful intruder that the one at three in the morning. I trotted into the kitchen and came to a skidding halt.
“What’s happened?” My heart skipped.
He covered his heart with a wooden spatula, pretending to be wounded. “Are you disappointed to see the world’s best boyfriend standing before you?”
I ran and threw myself into his arms. “Hell no, I’m just surprised,” When I felt I had sufficiently squeezed all the air from his lungs, I pulled away, “so where’s this world’s best boyfriend you speak of.”
Murder, Ye Bones Page 8
