Last night had her thinking about the moan from a second ago, and she whipped around to see Melody still snoozing cozily on the bed.
“What the hell?” she groused as she stood up. “I thought she left.”
“I see you two are getting along splendidly,” Jonas stated, a teasing lilt entering his voice.
“I used her to bounce ideas off of,” she said. “She was able to enter my vision.”
“What? How?”
Charlotte shrugged as she pulled the other chair out and sat down. “How does any of this…what was that word she used…parascience crap work? I had wanted to see if she could tap into hearing them, and she ended up a voyeur like me. It was weird but very cool.”
Jonas pushed forward the bag and cup toward her. “I got you a bagel and some OJ.”
“You are a god among men,” she gushed as she opened the bag and took out the bagel. Without another thought she bit into it. “M o ungy.”
“I figured you’d be hungry,” Jonas replied. “But talking with your mouth full is slightly gross, you know.” He held up the papers. “I’ve been sitting here reading your notes. Interesting theory.”
“Theory?” she asked skeptically.
He tapped the papers. “The facts you’re presenting from your visions back this up, but again, there’s no evidence.”
“I found DNA evidence at the club last night.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
Once she swallowed, she recounted the whole evening, only leaving out the parts she herself wasn’t ready to face. AKA: Nash. She even went into detail about Master Eyries, now able to find the humor in the situation. When she was done, she took another bite of her bagel and sat back to let him digest it all.
He studied her, staying quiet as he digested the information. “Very clever in catching onto the name Eyries.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Um, what does it mean?”
His lips turned up slightly at the corners. “It’s an eagle’s nest.”
“Well, that’s definitely what this room was. A nest,” she stated. “I mean, it was like this movie set. I kept waiting for someone to yell action.”
“And nothing…happened there?”
“Do you mean sexually? God, no. Touching vomit that old was beyond gross. Sanitary, my ass.”
“Where did you go after—”
“After I tried seducing you and you stomped out of here to pick a fistfight with a bigger and stronger man?”
“Bigger and stronger is a bit exaggerated,” he replied darkly.
She wisely didn’t comment. “Sheriff Ratman called me down to discuss how I was able to shut down the club.”
“I see you found new names to call him.”
“Eh, I think I’m repeating a few. He said his nephew, Danny McCoin, was involved with the murders.”
He cocked his head. “Wet-behind-the-ears Danny? What motive would he have?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Candace using him to get into the club? That’s all I can think of. Personally, I don’t think he had anything to do with their deaths.”
“Yeah, that is extremely thin.” He held up a piece of paper. “So on this page you wrote ‘little black book’ and underlined it.”
She took a drink of the orange juice. “That’s where I want to go today, to Janie and Candace’s apartment, to look for that book.”
“It’s been three months. What makes you think there’s anything left in that apartment?”
She licked her lips as she tried to organize her thoughts. “Janie and Candace were two girls falling through the cracks, written off as problematic addicts and whores. They had no one but each other. Candace trusted no one but Janie. And when Janie went missing, when Candace realized no one was going to help her, she straightened herself out. Every detail about that, about her search, she wrote down in that book. I know she did. So she wouldn’t have kept that journal out in the open.”
“And she knew the risks she was taking,” Jonas added.
Charlotte nodded. “She would’ve hidden it.”
Jonas thought for a moment. “We solve her murder, we’ll solve Kendra’s.”
“That’s my thoughts.” She took another drink and then pointed to his face. “How’s the face?”
“Hurts worse than my arm.”
“Yeah, hurts me just looking at you. Why did you fight him?”
“Because I was jealous,” he answered honestly.
She pursed her lips. “Maybe a cheating girlfriend isn’t worth it.”
He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “You let me decide if and when I have a cheating girlfriend. Why don’t I accompany you to this apartment?”
“All right.”
“Besides, the FBI called Nash first thing this morning, so he had to drag his hung-over ass into work.”
“Did you find that satisfying?”
“Oh yeah.”
* * * *
Nash dumped the folders he was carrying down on the table in the interrogation room with a thud. It was the only room in the small building that wasn’t occupied, and he could see why. The room was barely big enough to breathe in, and he half wondered how they found a desk small enough to fit the room. He pulled out the aluminum fold-up chair and sat down with a plop. He just knew his ass was going to hurt by the end of the day.
The FBI and HS had a civil relationship, and there were even some Feds he got along great with. But the ones working this case annoyed the hell out of him. They had no sense of time or compassion, especially since a mariachi band was currently playing castanets in his head. Seemed like the ibuprofen was wearing off.
Damn drink. He should have known better than to slug beers with Jonas Daire. The man had a heap of composure that Nash envied, even after being pummeled on. Of course, that thinking led to thoughts of Charlotte, and he just wasn’t ready to go there and admit defeat. Last night, his body wrapped around her with her breathless little moans of pleasure filling up his ears was the closest thing to heaven he knew he’d ever touch.
He was just going to have to wait and bide his time, and hope like hell Jonas Daire screwed up somehow. And when he did, Nash was going to make sure he was there for Charlotte.
But first things first. He arranged the folders and picked up the first one, rereading through all the reports. There wasn’t much from the logical, hard evidence the Feds had managed to gather. The final autopsy report still hadn’t come through, although Nash highly doubted there would be any further helpful information. He knew they were still combing through the Here After club, but that place was one big ball of DNA, so sifting through all that was going to be a Herculean task that would take probably a year to compile.
Cecelia Duwhite and Master Eyries, also known as Perry Brown, was being held somewhere else, and he wasn’t sure he was going to get a chance to interview them. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to interview them. They’d lawyered up, and he had better leads to pursue, like the supernatural kind. He picked up Kendra Oakley’s police report.
He read it without showing much emotion, but inside he was high-fiving the powers that be. Holy shit, Charlotte had found the connection. He closed the file and slid it under his own report. Out of sight, out of mind, especially when he went to take home his files.
A knock sounded on his door, interrupting his musings, and a second later Danny McCoin opened it, decked out in his dull brown uniform. “Do you have a moment?” he asked.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Nash replied. “Unfold a chair and sit down.”
Danny closed the door behind him with a click and sat down across from him.
“Looks like you need to learn how to duck.”
“You should see the other guy,” he said as he leveled a stare at Danny. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
“You do, too,” Danny shot back. “I sent you in there to find Candace’s killer, and all you give me is Janie Gabel’s DNA.”
Nash raised an eyeb
row. “You sent me?”
“Of course. Do you really think I didn’t know how you were angling to get into that club? At first I didn’t believe in these psychic powers, but after witnessing Miss Perth in action, I knew she’d be able to ferret out Candace’s killer.”
“Finding Janie’s DNA is a start,” Nash stated. “One murder will lead to the others, but you gotta be straight with me, man. I can’t work if you keep me at half truths and secret agendas. Now, I need a shower, an aspirin, and a fucking nap. So cut the shit and tell me everything you haven’t told the Feds.”
Danny ran a hand through his already tangled hair. “Candace approached me, wanting to get into Cecelia’s club, to look for her friend. I thought she was hot, so at first I agreed, but the longer I was around her the more I fell for her. And she me.”
“Go on.”
“The necklace I gave to Miss St. Cloud, the one that spelled out her name, she never took it off except the night she went in without me. There was a bad accident and I had to work, so she went into the club alone. But she never came out, at least not alive.”
“That’s all you know?”
Danny nodded. “I’ve asked Cecelia over and over what happened, but she denies seeing Candace that night.”
“You don’t believe her?”
“Of course I don’t believe her! And if you knew Cecelia you wouldn’t believe her either.”
“Unfortunately, I’ve met her.”
“She’s a bitch,” the young man stated, his resentment and acrimony blatantly apparent in his voice. “She doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself. Never has. Uses people to get what she wants and then discards them like trash.”
Nash narrowed his eyes. Danny’s hatred sounded a little too personal. “I have to admit, you’re looking a better suspect over Cecelia Duwhite.”
“I didn’t kill Candace,” Danny said firmly. “Nor did I kill Janie or Kendra. But I know Cecelia either did it or knows who did it, and I won’t rest until she’s paid for what she’s done.”
“This isn’t some type of disgruntled employee bullshit, is it?”
“No,” Danny stated emphatically. He shifted forward in his seat and stared directly into Nash’s eyes. “What would you do if it was Miss Perth in those graves? If there wasn’t any way to prove who did it? Wouldn’t you try anything?”
The autopsy pictures rose in his mind, and he couldn’t block the image of seeing Charlotte’s lifeless body decomposing on the cold metal table. Bile rose in his throat. “Yeah, I suppose I would.”
Suddenly making up his mind, Nash pulled out a crime scene photo of Master Eyries’s room. He slid it to Danny. “The working theory so far was that the girls that were brought in were trained by Master Eyries, whose real name is Perry Brown.”
Danny picked up the photo. “To get Candace into the club, she and I became involved with some of the club’s rooms, but we never met any of the so-called Masters.” He looked at Nash. “Do you think…did this Eyries guy hurt Candace?”
Nash hesitated. He might be sharing information, but he didn’t want to compromise Charlotte’s vision too much. “I don’t know,” he finally answered, as truthfully as he could. “The Feds are still interrogating him now.”
Nash took the photo back and slipped it back into its folder.
“So what’s next?”
“What do you know about Kendra Oakley?”
Danny shook his head. “I saw her around, but I never met her. But Candace wrote everything down in a little journal, so if she knew her, then it could be there.”
“Where’s the journal?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t know. It disappeared with her.”
Nash sat back in his seat and linked his fingers behind his head. “Sheriff Ratcliff is your uncle.”
“Yeah. Everyone knows that.”
“Did you talk to him about Candace’s disappearance?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Like I said, he wrote her off. Just like he wrote Janie and Kendra off.”
“Just like that?”
Danny nodded. “Is Miss Perth going to keep investigating?”
“As far as I know,” Nash said with a tired sigh. “And believe me, if anyone can solve this, it’ll be Charlotte.”
“Good. I want this motherfucker found. I want whoever it is rotting in jail.”
“If you think of anything else, or if you hear anything interesting, give me a call.”
“Sure,” the younger man said, rising from the chair. He hesitated for a moment and then pointed at Nash’s face. “So, was the other guy Jonas Daire?”
“It’s complicated.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“Yeah, well, I say a lot of things. Bye, Danny.”
The young man took the hint and left, leaving him alone with too many thoughts and an aching jaw. Nash thought over the conversation for a moment before picking up his phone and calling Jonas.
Chapter Seventeen
The door to the apartment swung open with a long creak, bringing to mind creepy possessed houses and stupid people who decided to proceed into those haunted places. Charlotte tried to ignore her instincts that were screaming at her to run away. It was an apartment, for Christ’s sake, and she had three people with her.
Doug Gabel stood just inside the threshold. He looked like he’d aged ten years overnight. It was one thing to suspect something had happened to your child. But having reality hit home was completely different, like a living nightmare. Charlotte felt her compassion rise and hoped like hell the apartment alluded to more answers, otherwise, she didn’t know where to search next.
The book could be anywhere.
It had been a blessing that Janie’s parents still paid the lease for the apartment. Of course, it was now empty except for a lamp missing a lampshade and a broken computer chair. Doug had said the apartment had been the first thing they had searched through in the beginning, trying to find some answers to what happened to their daughters. The Hyslips had assured them they never found a little black notebook, which went along with Charlotte’s theory.
“There’s a pull here,” she said quietly as she, Melody, and Jonas stood in the empty room that must have served as both the living and dining room. The apartment was small. Only one bedroom.
She and Melody both started walking toward that bedroom. Jonas followed after them. Their footfalls echoed on the wooden floor, sounding extremely loud and hollow. It jangled Charlotte’s already taut nerves.
On the floor where the bed must have rested lay a forgotten, dusty teddy bear. It was the same from her former vision, and seeing it lie forlornly on the floor was a mocking symbol of forgotten innocence. The bear made Charlotte sad.
“It belonged to Candace,” Charlotte said needlessly. She used the sentence to clear her throat.
“I know,” Melody replied softly. She threaded her fingers through Charlotte’s. “Come on. Let’s see what she has to say.”
They touched the bear together, and immediately Charlotte was transported into the vision. Melody stood next to her, but she didn’t have time to worry about her too much as she tried to take stock of where they were.
The first thing Charlotte saw was a plaque on the wall that read Computer Lab donated by the Wilcox family. Four flat screen monitors were perched around two tables that had been pushed together to form a large rectangle. Candace sat at a one of the computers, writing quickly in her book as she glanced back and forth from it and the screen. The screen illuminated her face, giving it a sickly pallor, but her eyes were wide and animated with excitement as she recorded whatever information she had discovered. Charlotte glanced down and saw letters, but just as she was about to read the computer screen, Candace jumped and turned in her seat, talking to someone that Charlotte couldn’t see.
Candace fumbled to log off the computer, closing down the browser, while at the same time closing her book as inconspicuously as possible. Then Candace stood, still talking
with the invisible intruder, and began to walk out of the computer lab. Right before she exited, however, the vision clouded over and the connection broke as the pull abruptly faded away. Charlotte drew in a sharp breath and looked wide-eyed at Melody.
“I didn’t see the person who drew her attention,” Melody said at once.
“What happened?” Jonas asked.
“Not much. I mostly stayed on the side.”
“I meant, what happened with Candace,” Jonas clarified.
“Oh.”
“She had written down some letters,” Charlotte answered. “CDMJD.”
“Is that code?” Jonas asked, his brow creased in confusion.
“If it is, I have no idea what it stands for,” she admitted.
“I didn’t see the letters,” Melody said. She opened her purse and brought out a pen and a receipt. She turned the receipt over and wrote out the letters. “Like this?”
Charlotte shook her head. She took the pen and rewrote, “It was a little M, and it had a period after it. CD and JD were on either side of it.”
“CD m. JD,” Jonas murmured. “Initials?”
“Oh,” Melody said, perking up. “CD married JD. The m with a period after is how us genealogists abbreviate married.”
Charlotte’s brows shot up. “You’re a genealogist?”
“Well, the psychic gig does not pay the rent in Biloxi, Mississippi, but old ladies wanting to know their southern roots do.”
“CD could be Cecelia Duwhite,” Jonas commented.
“But why would being married be a secret?” Melody asked, confused.
“I think I know where to go,” Charlotte said. “Maybe we can get some answers there. Come on.”
Chapter Eighteen
“The library?”
“Internet research,” Charlotte answered, a bit distracted as she felt a pull settle in her stomach. “Fan out.”
“Fan out? We’re in a library,” she heard Jonas mutter as she took off toward the computer section, not paying attention in the least where he and Melody went.
Hereafter [McKnight, Perth & Daire 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 13
