In Deep Voodoo

by Stephanie Bond

  She gave a little laugh to hide her mounting fear. “It was supposed to represent Deke.”

  “And what did you do to it?”

  “I …” She swallowed. “I … stabbed it with a pin. But it was all a joke.”

  “Uh-huh. Where exactly did you stab it?”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “In the chest.”

  “Uh-huh. And don’t you find it coincidental that shortly after you stab a voodoo doll of your ex-husband in the chest with a pin, he’s found dead with a stake sticking out of his chest? A stake from your garden?”

  Panic rose in her chest like a choking tide. “I know how it looks,” she said, her voice squeaky, “but I didn’t kill him! That’s why I’m here telling you everything.”

  “Who gave you the voodoo doll?”

  “I don’t know—all of the gifts were anonymous.”

  Allyson scoffed, clearly eager to jump back in. “That’s convenient. Sheena told us that you were really upset earlier today when you discovered that she and Deke were engaged.”

  Had Sheena told them that she’d pushed her into the street? Penny gripped the empty water bottle so hard that it popped up in the air and landed on the floor. Maybe that polygraph wasn’t such a good idea after all. She leaned over to scoop up the bottle. “I was surprised, but it didn’t bother me.” Another lie—God, she was pathological.

  Allyson leaned forward, her eyes hard. “I think you’re lying, Penny. Sheena also told us that she thinks you and Deke were fooling around behind her back.” Allyson’s anger was palpable, vibrating around the room.

  “That’s simply not true,” Penny said, pulling back slightly from Allyson’s aggressive posture. The irony was downright humiliating—she and Deke hadn’t had sex very often when they were married, much less after they’d split.

  “Chief Davis,” Gloria said carefully, “since you were acquainted with the victim, perhaps Detective Maynard should handle the questioning.”

  Allyson sat back and seemed to regain her composure. “I apologize. But this happened on my watch—I’m sure you can understand my eagerness to get to the truth.”

  “Why aren’t you questioning Ms. Linder?” Gloria asked. “She was the one who told Penny that Deke was looking for her. Maybe she set Penny up.”

  “Ms. Linder was at her place of business,” Allyson said. “From there she went directly to Caskey’s, and several people have vouched for her alibi.” The chief looked back to Penny and took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. “I think you killed him, Penny. I think it made you crazy to see Deke with another woman, so crazy that you’d rather he be dead than with someone else.”

  “That’s not true,” Penny said, exasperated. “If I were going to kill Deke, I certainly wouldn’t have done it with a garden stake!”

  “Oh? How would you have killed him?”

  Penny opened her mouth to describe her fantasies but clamped it shut when she realized she’d been baited.

  Allyson smiled. “I think you were obsessed with him.”

  Penny pressed her mouth together, suddenly close to tears. “I loved Deke, but when our relationship ended, I let it go.”

  “Really?” Allyson gestured to Maynard, who reached into an inner jacket pocket and removed a plastic evidence bag. Inside was the lovebirds ornament emblazoned with Deke and Penny, forever. “Do you always carry this around in your purse?”

  Penny puffed out her cheeks in an exhale. “No. Deke gave it to me when we were first dating, and it was special to me. I forgot about it and left it in the house when I moved out.”

  “And when did you get it back?”

  She bit down on the inside of her cheek. “Tonight.”

  “When tonight—before you murdered Deke?”

  “Stop badgering my client,” Gloria interjected.

  “Answer the question, Penny.”

  She wiped her clammy palms on the thighs of her borrowed sweatpants and sighed. “When I got to the house, like I said, I thought Deke was still on the phone because he didn’t answer when I called his name. I figured that while I waited for him to finish his call, I might as well go to the attic and get the ornament.”

  “Steal it, you mean.”

  “It was mine,” she countered. “Deke wouldn’t have cared—it just wasn’t worth bothering him.”

  “But you didn’t want him to know,” Allyson said. “After all, he was engaged—you didn’t want him to know that you were still in love with him.”

  “I wasn’t in love with him, I just wanted the keepsake, that’s all.”

  Allyson crossed her arms. “There’s blood on your clothes, Penny.”

  She lifted her hands. “I must have gotten it when I leaned over him.”

  “The CSI tech says they look like projected bloodstains, not transfer stains, which means you were standing in front of him or over him when the blood was spurting out of him.”

  Penny winced and shook her head. “That’s impossible. I didn’t kill him. I wasn’t there. He was already dead when I found him.”

  Allyson held up her fingers, counting off. “You had motive, opportunity, and you just happened to be the one who found the body. From where I’m sitting, this is practically an open-and-shut case.”

  Penny’s stomach bottomed out. “But I didn’t kill Deke.”

  Allyson pounded her fist on the table. “Then who did?”

  Gloria stood abruptly. “Figuring that out is your job, Chief. Are you finished? My client is obviously exhausted from her ordeal.”

  “I’m finished, all right.” Allyson’s hand hovered over the handcuffs at her side, but Maynard cleared his throat.

  “Give us a minute, Counselor.” He looked at Allyson and nodded toward the hallway. She followed, looking none too pleased.

  When the door closed, Gloria collapsed into the chair. “Penny, this is serious, and I have to tell you, I’m in way over my head here. If they arrest you, you have to get another attorney.”

  Penny bit her lip. “There’s more.”

  Gloria held up her hand. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know.”

  “But this concerns you.” Penny looked at the window. “Can they hear me?”

  “No. They’re not allowed to listen in when a suspect talks to their attorney.”

  Penny lifted her eyebrows. “I thought you knew nothing about criminal law.”

  Gloria sighed. “That’s about the extent of it. What is this thing that concerns me?”

  “Deke’s paralegal told my employee Marie Gaston that Deke hid assets during the divorce settlement.”

  Gloria closed her eyes. “Oh, this is bad. And when did Marie give you this information?”

  “During the party.”

  “Before or after you stabbed the voodoo doll?”

  “Um … before.”

  Gloria mouthed a curse word.

  The door opened and Maynard returned, alone. “Today’s your lucky day, Ms. Francisco. We decided not to make an arrest until the crime scene evidence has been processed.”

  Penny almost wet herself with relief.

  Then Maynard’s eyebrows came together in a dark frown. “You’re free to go, but don’t take any trips. Oh, and a search warrant is being served on your apartment as we speak.” He left the room, banging the door shut.

  Gloria melted into her chair. “Tell me you burned that voodoo doll.”

  “It’s at my apartment.”

  “Oh, God, we’re in deep shit.”

  Penny winced. “More like deep voodoo.”

  13

  Then stir things up again …

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Gloria asked.

  Penny tried her best to smile as she slid out of the passenger door of her attorney’s car. “I’ll be fine from here—my place is just around the corner. Thanks for the ride home.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Penny closed the door and shivered against the lower temperatures. The police had confiscated her purse, releasing
only her keys and driver’s license. Without the flashlight, she felt vulnerable on the side street. She couldn’t see her watch in the dim lighting, but she estimated the time to be about 3:00 A.M. The street was nearly empty, save for the people who were camped out for the night against the building, the tips of their cigarettes glowing in the dark. Hushed talk and low laughter floated out, along with the scent of incense and clove.

  Spooked from the pictures of Deke’s murder scene now burned into her brain, she walked as quickly as the borrowed flip-flops would allow, eager to be in her own bed. Her body was wracked with exhaustion, but she doubted she’d get any sleep. She just wanted to put the covers over her head for a few hours and absorb the absurd reality that Deke was dead.

  And more absurd still, that the police thought she’d done it.

  She rounded the corner and entered the square, not surprised to see the ceremonial fires still burning and a knot of people still chanting and dancing. But the crowds had dispersed and the chirp of cicadas had replaced the drums. And thank goodness, the masked priestess who had rattled Penny (literally) was nowhere to be found.

  The giant revolving beignet had never looked so good to her. She stepped up to the outer door leading to her apartment, then inhaled sharply when she realized a man was sitting on the sidewalk, his head down, his back leaned against her door. Her startled cry made him stir. He lifted his head, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the street light.

  “B.J.?” she asked, incredulous. How desperate was the man to get laid that he’d waited four hours?

  “Hey,” he croaked, pushing to his feet. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

  She was instantly suspicious. “How did you hear what happened?”

  “I was here when the police came—I guess they searched your place? One of the cops told me that your ex-husband was murdered.”

  “That’s right,” she said, wondering what else the cop had told him.

  “So … did you kill him?”

  Indignance puckered her mouth. “No.”

  He brushed off his backside. “Good. I usually can size up people pretty well, and I pegged you for a lover, not a fighter.”

  In the daylight, he might have been charming, but at this hour and considering what she’d been through, she wasn’t amused. “Look, it’s been a very long night. I’m not up for company.”

  “What? Oh, no, I didn’t expect you to …” He made a rueful noise. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “Then … I’ll be on my way.”

  She watched him begin to walk away, remorse coursing through her chest. If only she had left Caskey’s with him, she reasoned crazily, she wouldn’t have been in the mess she was in. The next time she had the choice between fun and obligation, she would choose fun … assuming there would be a next time. “Hey,” she said. “Wait.”

  He turned back.

  “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

  He shrugged. “Not unless you want to talk about it.”

  She crossed her arms over her baggy sweatshirt. “Just who are you anyway?”

  He gave a little laugh. “That’s a fair question. My name is Beaumont.”

  “Why are you in Mojo?”

  “I’m in town on business.”

  “What kind of business?”

  He hesitated. “I’m a private investigator from New Orleans. I specialize in missing persons. I go where the crowds are—festivals, concerts.”

  Penny narrowed her eyes. “Why were you at Sheena Linder’s house yesterday morning?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “She’s engaged to my ex-husband, the man who was murdered tonight. And she lives in the house I used to—only it wasn’t pink when I lived there. I have a business across the street, and I saw you drive up in a green car.”

  He whistled low. “Not bad. If you got my license plate number, I’d like to offer you a job.”

  “Are you two involved or something?”

  “No.” He held up his hands. “I’d never met the Linder woman until yesterday, and it didn’t take me long to realize that she’s not my type.”

  Okay, so he was improving in her eyes. “Then why were you there?”

  Another hesitation. “It was a dead-end lead. Wait a minute—did she kill your ex-husband?”

  “That would be too simple.” Immediately, guilt descended, and Penny sighed. “I’m sorry—that was a terrible thing to say. I’m tired.”

  “Right.” He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Look, I know it’s late, but do you want to talk, maybe grab a cup of coffee at the diner?”

  She looked down to the far left corner of the square. Sure enough, Ted’s was still open. Penny wavered and looked down at her baggy sweats and flip-flops. “I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

  “It’s a diner. There’s mashed potatoes on the floor.”

  She smiled for the first time in what seemed like days.

  “Come on—just a cup of coffee. Decaf.”

  Why did she gravitate toward this stranger? He looked dark and potentially dangerous, yet there was no denying the fact that he exuded a vibe of strength that she needed … and wanted. She caved to curiosity and walked toward him. “That’s the only thing on Ted’s menu that’s passable, and just barely.”

  They walked in silence, past the erected shelter and the vendor booths that had been closed up for the night, past bundles of people sitting on tarps around portable Coleman lanterns with blankets wrapped around them. Without being obvious, B.J. glanced at every face.

  “Does the voodoo festival always bring out such a big crowd?” he asked.

  “Never quite this big. The weather has helped.”

  He held open the diner door, and she walked under his arm. “What kind of business do you own?”

  She frowned at the deadly desserts rotating in the refrigerator case as they passed. “A health food store.”

  He chortled. “That explains the tofu remark at the bar.”

  “Have you tried it?” she asked as she slid into a sticky red-and-white booth.

  He shrugged out of his leather bomber jacket and tossed it on the seat before sitting opposite her. “No, I can honestly say I’ve never tried tofu.”

  “Well, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” She glanced around to see if she knew anyone in the diner and spotted the two friends of Marie’s who worked at the Hair Affair, who had come to her party. One of the girls saw her and put her hand to her mouth, then whispered to the other one, who looked up, her eyes wide.

  Penny turned away, wondering what she’d been thinking to come here—in standard issue Mojo jail garb, no less.

  “Friends of yours?” B.J. asked.

  “Not really. But I guess word has gotten around about Deke.”

  “That was your ex’s name—Deke?”

  “Deke Black. I went back to my maiden name, Francisco.”

  “Penny Francisco,” he said, as if testing it on his tongue. “Nice.” Then he frowned. “His name sounds familiar—would I know him?”

  “He’s an attorney—” She stopped. “I mean, he was an attorney here in Mojo. Maybe your paths crossed at some point.”

  “Maybe.”

  Ted walked by and tossed two menus on the table.

  “So,” B.J. said, opening a menu. “What happened?”

  She fingered the menu and told him about running into Sheena before she left the bar and the messages that Deke had left for her at her apartment. “After I called you, I kept getting a busy signal at Deke’s.” She lifted her hands. “Don’t ask me why, but I decided to walk to the house to see what he wanted and get it over with. When I got there, I found his … body.” A shudder overtook her, but she was determined not to break down. “And then Sheena came home and found me.”

  He was quiet, but from his eyes, she could tell his mind was racing.

  “Made up yer mind yet?” Ted asked. His apron wa
s stained every color in the rainbow and smeared with some chunky stuff that Penny didn’t want to identify.

  “Decaf coffee for me,” she said, pushing away the menu.

  B.J. looked up. “Do you mind if I get some food? I’ll eat fast.”

  “No, go ahead.” While he ordered, she studied his features, placing him in his late thirties. His square jaw had a day’s growth, and his hair was long on top and windblown. His black Kenny Wayne Shepherd Band T-shirt had seen a few washings. She’d never met a PI, but she decided the occupation suited him and idly wondered about his background.

  “Comin’ right up,” Ted said, then he looked at Penny. “Weren’t you married to that Deke Black who was murdered tonight?”

  She swallowed. “We were divorced.”

  “Word is that you stabbed a voodoo doll and did him in.”

  Penny tried her best to look outraged. “That’s ridiculous.”

  B.J. looked at Ted. “How about that coffee?” When the man shuffled away, B.J. said, “What’s all this about a voodoo doll?”

  She sighed. “It’s silly. I got a voodoo doll dressed like Deke as a gag gift at my party. I got carried away and … stabbed it.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “And how was Deke killed?”

  “Um … he was stabbed.”

  “Oh.”

  She started to get up. “Look, this was a bad idea … I’m in a lot of trouble … I shouldn’t even be here … with you.”

  He put his hand on her arm. “Maybe I can help.”

  She looked down at his big hand, thinking how wrong everything seemed—Deke was gone and another man was touching her, offering help. Her eyes welled with tears, and she was afraid to move or speak. Mortification rolled over her in waves.

  “Shhh,” he murmured. “Don’t break down … not now. There are too many eyes.”

  He was right. She blinked furiously just as Ted returned to slide two mugs of coffee across the table. She sat back down and drank deeply from hers, feeling somewhat calmer. “Are you saying that I should hire you to help clear me?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Are you any good?” The words hung in the air, thick with the implication of what might have happened tonight if she hadn’t gone to Deke’s.

  A little smile curved his mouth. “The best in three states.”