Shadows: A Bayou Magic Novel

by Kristen Proby

  She’s a sight for sore eyes.

  “I’ve missed you—” I begin, but she holds up a hand, stopping me.

  “I’m not here to talk about the issues we have,” she says. “Let’s get that straight right now.”

  She moves to shove a piece of paper into her bag, but I stop her.

  “Where did you get that?”

  She frowns and glances down at it. “A lady on the street gave it to me. Asked me if I’d seen her before.”

  “Let me see.”

  She passes it to me, and I stare down at a photo of Tammy. Her last name is Holmes. She was only twenty-four, visiting New Orleans from Wisconsin.

  “This is one of the girls.”

  “I didn’t recognize her,” Daphne says, looking at it again. “Of course, I wouldn’t. She didn’t look like this last night.”

  I swallow hard. “No. She didn’t.”

  “Two things need to happen tonight,” Millie announces, taking control of the conversation. “One, you will figure out a way to get past this stupid fight.”

  Daphne starts to argue, but Millie shakes her head, shutting our baby sister up.

  “And two, we need to figure out what’s happening to these poor girls and decide what we’re going to do about it. Where’s Cash?”

  “Who’s Cash?” Daphne asks.

  “He’s a new person in my life,” I reply. “I told him I was going out for dinner with my sisters, and that I’d see him later.”

  “So, you’ve already moved on from Jackson, then?” Daphne asks, glaring at me from across the table.

  I reach over and hold Daphne’s hand in mine. “I need you to talk to me, Daph. We can’t get past things if you keep shutting me out. I did not do anything inappropriate with Jackson.”

  Her eyes fill with tears at the mention of his name. Jackson was Daphne’s high school sweetheart. They broke up when he went into the military, and when he returned, he asked me to meet up with him for lunch.

  Daphne walked in on us and immediately assumed the worst.

  “I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “You saw us having lunch.”

  “He had his damn hand on you!”

  “You acted like a child,” I counter, completely frustrated with my little sister. “You threw water in his face and stormed out as if you’d found us in bed together.”

  “Oh, trust me, I’m relieved that I was spared that much.”

  “Ew.” I lean back and stare at her in horror. “Jack has always been like a freaking brother to me, Daph. I would never do that, no matter what. He’s for you, and I’m not the least bit attracted to him. How could you even think that? We’ve gone more than a year without speaking, all because you assumed I jumped into bed with your boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she whispers and dabs at the tears on her cheeks. “And even if it was just a simple lunch, it doesn’t matter. He came back, and rather than reach out to me, he reached out to you. Do you know how horrible that feels?”

  “It wasn’t the right time,” Millie says calmly.

  “For the love of the stars, Mill, just let me be a woman for five minutes, okay? It hurt me, and I’m entitled to feel that way.”

  “Sure, you are,” I agree, surprising her. “You feel betrayed. But you let it fester all this time and wouldn’t even let me explain. You assumed I was bouncing all over the man you love, and that’s pretty harsh, Daph.”

  “I’m not sorry,” she says softly. “You should have called me right after he asked you to meet.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “He’s my everything.”

  I sit back and study her. If the tables were reversed, and we were talking about Cash, how would I feel?

  Hurt, certainly.

  But I like to think I’d give them both the chance to explain.

  “So, even though we didn’t do anything inappropriate, you’re going to continue taking your anger out on me? That’s not fair.”

  Daphne pouts for a moment, then sighs and wipes the last of her tears away. Daphne’s always been the most dramatic of us, but she’s never behaved like this before.

  “You’re right,” she says at last. “It’s not doing any good. And, frankly, being angry all the time is exhausting.”

  “I can only imagine. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

  “Let’s table this for now,” Daphne says.

  “Wait. Does that mean you’re speaking to her again?” Millie asks.

  “Yes, I’m speaking to her.” Daphne rolls her eyes. “Now, let’s get to the real reason we’re all here.” She points to the paper still sitting on the table.

  “I’ll fill you in on what’s been happening so far.” I go back to almost a week ago when I first met Cash, and tell her everything, from the moment I first saw him, to seeing the new shadow, and then the apparitions last night.

  Has it really been less than a day?

  It feels like months.

  “And you haven’t experienced anything?” Daphne asks Millie.

  “No, not yet. But my shields are strong, and I’m super careful to center and ground myself. I have to.”

  “I know,” Daph says and pats our sister’s shoulder. The waitress arrives to tell us about the specials and take our orders. Once she’s gone, Daphne clears her throat.

  “So, there’s something else I should tell you guys.” She glances at each of us, then ducks her head as if she’s embarrassed or ashamed. “I went to see Mama.”

  “What?” Millie and I bark in unison.

  “Why would you do that?” Millie asks.

  “She called me,” Daphne says.

  “I didn’t know she had electricity, much less a phone,” I say.

  “She went to Horace’s house to call,” Daphne says. “She sounded real bad and made me feel guilty, so I agreed to go.”

  “No,” Millie says, shaking her head emphatically.

  “I wasn’t there long,” Daphne says. “The inside of the house is awful.”

  “What did she want?”

  “I don’t know.” Daphne shrugs. “Once I got there, she said she didn’t remember calling me. It was weird. She was mean. And you know as soon as I stepped inside…”

  She shivers, and Millie and I both put our hands on her, giving her our strength—both literally and figuratively.

  “We’ll go to the café after this,” Millie says. “I have potions for you to take.”

  “I appreciate it,” Daphne says, adding a nod. “We can’t ever go back there, guys. Not ever.”

  “And we never will,” I assure. “Now, what do we do about this?”

  I point to Tammy’s missing person poster.

  “We talk to Cash,” Millie says.

  “Why?” Daphne asks.

  “Because he’s with the FBI,” I reply. “And he’s a profiler.”

  “Wow. You snagged yourself a cool boyfriend, Bri,” Daphne says.

  “He’s hot, too,” Millie informs her. “And has a good heart.”

  “You looked?” Daph asks.

  “Of course, I did. She’s my sister.”

  “You’ve multiplied,” Cash says with a smile when we walk into my apartment an hour later.

  “I’m the youngest sister,” Daphne says, sending Cash a little wave. “Daphne.”

  “Cash. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Cash turns to me and pulls me in for a lazy hug. “How are you, darlin’?”

  “Not too bad, actually. Sorry we’re later than I thought. We had to swing by the café to get some protection potion for Daphne.”

  He narrows his eyes as he glances at my sister. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s quite a story,” I say and gesture for him to have a seat with me on the couch. Millie sits in one chair across from us, and Daphne takes the other.

  “Whoa,” Daphne says in surprise.

  “What?”

  “Someone had sex in this chair.”

  Cash’s head whips around to me, and I hol
d up my hands in surrender. “It wasn’t me. I haven’t had sex in…well, we don’t need to go there.”

  “Not you,” Daphne confirms and then laughs. “I don’t know where you got this chair, but I like it. Whoever owned it was happy and quite playful.”

  “Well, that’s fun,” Millie says, grinning. “You should re-christen it later. After we leave.”

  “Thanks for the pointer,” I say with a laugh.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Cash says, making me grin.

  “Focus, please.”

  “I had the same dream that Brielle did last night,” Daphne begins. “And when I was on my way to dinner, a woman stopped me on the street and gave me this.”

  She pulls the missing person flyer from her bag and passes it to Cash. He reads it, then looks at me with sad, green eyes.

  “I remember her from the tour,” he says.

  “So do I. It’s the same girl I see.”

  “Can you see them now?” Millie asks.

  “They’re outside,” I inform them. “They don’t follow me inside. Probably the wards or the crystal grid.”

  “Are they on the sidewalk?” Daphne asks.

  I stand and peek outside. Sure enough, the two women are on the sidewalk, staring up at my apartment.

  Talk about creepy.

  “Yep.”

  “So, we know now that Tammy at least has been reported as missing,” Cash says thoughtfully as I sit with him.

  “She’s dead,” I say.

  “We know that,” Cash replies. “But the authorities don’t. I’d like to consult with my brother on this.”

  “He’s a cop here in New Orleans,” I inform my sisters, then turn to Cash. “But what kind of cop?”

  “He works in robbery,” he admits.

  “We have another contact,” Millie says. “We just need to ask Miss Sophia. There are a couple of detectives who have worked with psychics in the past.”

  “Mallory Boudreaux’s grandmother,” I reply, remembering. “I need to go into Mal’s shop this week anyway. I’ll ask for her contacts then.”

  “If she doesn’t know, Miss Sophia will,” Millie says.

  “I don’t want to sit on this,” Cash says. “There could be more girls missing.”

  “Cash, I don’t have any proof, and I don’t have any information aside from knowing she’s dead. And, trust me, most people—especially cops—don’t believe in psychics. They’ll blow me off for sure. At least until I have more information or some proof.”

  “This is damn frustrating,” he mumbles, rubbing his fingers over his lips. “In the meantime, I’m going to run searches in my database to see if other women with similar descriptions are missing.”

  “They do look alike. And they look like someone else,” Daphne says thoughtfully.

  “Who?” Millie asks.

  “Brielle.”

  All eyes turn to me in surprise at Daphne’s statement.

  “You’re right,” Millie says. “At least, Tammy does. We don’t know anything about the other girl.”

  “She resembles her, too. At least from what I could tell in my dream.” Daphne shakes her head.

  I stand to pace. I think better when I’m moving.

  “Is that why they’re coming to me? Because they look like me? Maybe they’re trying to warn me or something.”

  “It’s possible,” Millie says as I walk past the window and glance outside.

  “Shit,” I mutter. “Guys? There are now three girls.”

  Chapter Six

  “One side of me says, I’d like to talk to her, date her. The other side of me says, I wonder what her head would look like on a stick?”

  - Ed Kemper, AKA the Co-ed Killer

  It’s possible that he went overboard this past week. But after such a dry spell, and once he got the taste of the woman he took from Brielle’s tour, he just couldn’t help himself.

  “Hello, dear,” he says to one of the five girls he currently has tied up in his room of fun. She’s the most recent, and she hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up this morning.

  Of course, he doesn’t find the show of emotion attractive in the least.

  It’s a weakness.

  And that means this one won’t last long once he starts playing with her.

  Pity.

  “Now, Brielle, there’s no need to cry.”

  “I’m not B-B-Brielle,” she whimpers. “I’m Ally.”

  He backhands her across the face, making her lip immediately bleed.

  “You’ll learn.”

  But she doesn’t stop crying. No, she just sobs louder.

  If he were a less patient man, he’d just slit her throat right now.

  But that won’t do. No, he went through too much trouble bringing her here, taking her out of a bar with plenty of people around to see.

  She was too perfect to pass up.

  He’ll just have to listen to her cry.

  Unless…

  “Here, Brielle, this will help.” He grabs a bloody rag from his workbench and stuffs it into her mouth to muffle her cries. “There, now. Much better.”

  He ignores the other three tied to their beds, some slipping in and out of consciousness, and one weeping quietly into her bare mattress, and then turns to the girl strapped to his chair. He clicks his tongue when he sees the blood running down her thigh from where the leather has bitten into her innocent flesh.

  “Oh, this won’t do. You’ve been trying to get away, haven’t you?”

  Her eyes are glassy as she shakes her head, denying her own struggles.

  “I’m the only one allowed to make you bleed, Brielle. I told you that before.”

  He reaches for the woman’s hair and surprises her when he pours warm water over it, then begins to wash it with shampoo that smells like apples.

  “It has to be clean,” he says, his voice soothing and even. “Nice and clean.”

  Once the soap is rinsed, he painstakingly braids the long, dark hair, securing it with a black hair tie.

  Then, once it’s just the way he likes it, he reaches for the scissors and cuts off the braid at the nape of her neck.

  “I’m keeping this,” he says, his face stretching in a sinister smile. “It’s my little trophy. You don’t mind, do you?”

  She shakes her head, making him chuckle.

  “Of course, you don’t. You’re such a good girl, Brielle. Always so sweet and nice.”

  He returns to his workbench and hangs the braid above the window, joining the other twenty-nine plaits.

  “Thirty,” he mumbles. “The same as your age!”

  He turns to her triumphantly, ignoring the cries and whimpers coming from the others, completely focused on the woman in his chair.

  “Oh, that calls for something special. Something very special, indeed.”

  He flips on the switch of the car battery charger next to the chair, parts her legs, and reaches for the cord.

  “You’re going to love this.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cash

  “There have to be more missing persons reports,” I mutter as I power up my laptop. Brielle and her sisters sit nearby, talking about the new girl that’s joined the other two apparitions.

  My brother pointed out to me this morning that this could all be a scam. And I can’t exactly say his hypothesis is wrong. Brielle could be making up everything she supposedly sees, all for the sake of being dramatic.

  Or, she could just be plain crazy.

  And, frankly, I don’t know her well enough to say for certain that he’s not right.

  But it feels like she’s telling me the truth. And my intuition is rarely wrong.

  I’ve seen the scared look in her eyes when she sees something new. That fear isn’t a lie.

  So, until I can say for certain that they’re all whacko, I’m in this for the long haul.

  “It’s cool that you have access to the Fed’s files,” Millie says and smiles.

  “I’m hoping it helps us figure
out at least a pattern,” I reply, entering stats into the search engine.

  Dark hair.

  Blue eyes.

  Average height.

  New Orleans.

  And then hit go.

  I glance up to find Brielle’s bright blue eyes focused on me. She’s quiet, but her face is tight with worry. All of this is taking a toll on her.

  How do I know that?

  How is it that I just met her a few days ago, and yet I feel as if I’ve known her for ages?

  “How are you, darlin’?”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “I’m okay.”

  “Holy shit,” Millie mutters, pulling me back to the task at hand.

  “What?” Daphne asks, hurrying over. Brielle doesn’t join us.

  She knows.

  “Dozens,” I mutter, paging through the names, the photos. “I only put in a five-year time span.”

  “Extend it,” Brielle says. “Go back ten.”

  I do as she asks and feel my stomach drop. “There are more, but not many. It seems the number is far less until six years ago. At least girls missing from New Orleans. I’m going to look through each one to get more information. We’ll look for girls taken in the French Quarter to start, and then we’ll expand from there.”

  “With that list, it’ll take you all night,” Daphne says.

  “You guys can go home,” Brielle says quietly. “Get some rest. Maybe we’ll have more information in the morning.”

  “This is going to take time,” I agree and nod. “Brielle’s right. Get some rest, ladies.”

  “I’m exhausted,” Millie admits. “And I need to look in on the café before I head to bed. But I’m a phone call away.”

  “Same,” Daphne says. “I don’t live as close as Millie, but I can be here quickly.”

  Both sisters flank Brielle, all of them wrapping each other in hugs. They quietly whisper something in unison, like a prayer, and then once they’ve said their goodbyes, it’s just Brielle and me.

  “How many do you think?” she asks.

  “I haven’t dug around—”

  “Ballpark.”

  “A couple dozen, at least. Some of these cases will have likely been solved. But once I narrow it all down and weed through it all, there will still be a couple dozen unsolved, I’m sure.”