“Comin’ right up, oh mighty master,” the main cook yelled back.
Uncle scowled, shook his head. “One day, I fire that sharp-tongued woman.”
Rita smirked. “Well, maybe you should try asking instead of shouting demands.”
“Who shout? Big man have big voice.” He wiped the counter and filled her in on the latest gossip about the other shop owners in the square. When the bell dinged, he collected the readied plate from the serving window.
Rita wolfed down half the sandwich. She watched her mother tuck money into her blouse, smile at the woman, then maneuver her electric wheelchair around tables and customers to reach the counter. Gold slippers peeked from beneath Anna’s long, flowered skirt.
“Business looks good, Ma. You feeling okay? You look a little pale.”
“Ach.” Anna waved her hand in the air. “It bothers me sometimes to keep the truth back from customers.”
“You say destiny win anyway, Anna.” Dragus looked at Anna’s legs. “Ja. You say you learn with big car crash. Not even you stop people’s sadness.”
Anna nodded and twisted the wedding band she still wore. “When I read their palms and see troubles coming to them, it gets harder to fight giving them the words to make them ready in some way.”
“If it’s not life-threatening, Ma, even you’ve admitted it’s best to keep it to yourself, give no warnings. You can’t prevent life’s little hiccups.”
“That doesn’t lessen my discomfort.” Anna brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Ach. Enough. I have to live with it. Eat.”
Rita swiveled on the stool and finished her quick dinner, sipped hot tea, and tackled the brownie Uncle Dragus set before her. Rich, creamy chocolate coated her tongue. Rolling her eyes, she sighed, “Umm, wonderful.” She licked her lips, catching each stray crumb. “You know, Uncle, the guys at the station are thinking of arresting you and setting you up in a cell so you can bake for them.”
Dragus laughed. He leaned his wide body over the counter and whispered, “You tell I use little hish-hash. Secret ingredient.”
“Oh Lord, then they may never let you out of the jail,” Rita teased.
Anna’s brown eyes glinted, her gaze sweeping over Rita’s face. “Hmm, though it’s nice to see my daughter again, I think she has something heavy on her mind.”
“Yeah, you’re right as usual. I really need to talk to you both.”
“If it’s about the man you met today, he will be good for you. You already more than half trust him.”
Rita closed her eyes and pretended to bang her forehead on the counter. At times, she was glad that her mother’s extra-sensory receptors worked so well. Other times, she wished her mother would point her antenna in another direction.
“No, not about him,” she said. “But it’s important.”
“Let’s all go back to the office.” Anna angled her chair toward a paneled door at the rear of the restaurant.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Rita blurted, “The crystal’s not working right.”
“Impossible.” Anna guided her chair to the large oval desk. “The crystal has never weakened. Your chosen work is why I gave it to you. Its powers have helped you. Guided and protected you.”
Standing near the window, Uncle Dragus nodded.
Rita slouched in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. “Have you been following the news of the murdered prostitutes?”
Anna tapped her fingers on the desk, her eyebrows rose. “Tea leaves and palms are not the only things I read. We still do read the newspaper.”
“Okay.” Rita sat up straight and eased forward on the chair. “Well, I can feel the crystal’s warmth, the power pulsing up my arm. But, I haven’t seen the image of the killer in the eyes of the victims, only the person they had seen before they were murdered.”
“Then the murderer must have attacked these women from behind,” said Anna. “This has happened to you before.”
“No, Ma. The M.E. says it was a frontal assault.”
“Ach, that can’t be. Your doctor is wrong.”
Uncle walked to the desk. “Or maybe your mind too tired, Rita. You know you need think hard to see face on eyes.”
Rita didn’t believe the job, the mental and emotional strain, would weaken her ability with the crystal. There had to be other times down through their lineage when the crystal failed. “No, Uncle. The amulet is off somehow.”
Dragus stared at his boots, his cheeks reddened. “Maybe it to do with dreams you tell me about, Anna.”
“What dreams?” Rita shot a glare at Uncle. “What are you talking about?”
Anna’s gaze shifted to Dragus who had backed up a few steps. “My brother has a big mouth.” She laced her fingers on her lap and sighed. “I dream sometimes of an odd presence hovering over me. I try to flee, then I smell a moldy earth odor that shifts on the wind.” She rubbed her arms as if chilled. “At times, I feel like a wet shroud is covering my skin. I can’t make sense of it. It’s too vague.”
“I see you look over shoulder lots while we work, Anna,” Dragus interjected. “And you always wipe sweat from forehead.”
“You think your dreams have something to do with blocking my amulet?”
Anna let out a long sigh. “We have the same bloodline, yes, but the crystal can’t lose its power because you are the keeper now, not me.”
“Is there something else about these dreams you’re not telling me?”
Anna glanced at Dragus, then back at Rita. “The dreams have no solid meaning that I can make sense of.” She looked toward the window, her eyes distant for a moment. “Ach. I think it’s probably this womanly change affecting my nights. Dragus should never have mentioned them. Isn’t that right, Brother?”
Uncle’s face drained of expression with Anna’s words. He walked behind Anna and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder, yet kept his gaze on Rita. “Ja. Anna right. Nothing stop power. Only when holder not think hard, when mind is tired.”
She sensed Anna holding back, but trusted that she wouldn’t hesitate to tell her if she felt something relevant to Rita’s safety. She intended to dig deeper into Anna’s dreams when her thoughts weren’t so preoccupied with the threat to her city. Right now though, she needed some insight to help get the heirloom back to full strength. Some clue as to the why of her eerie feel of this case. Rita had to take the chance.
“Ma, I know you’re going to hate this, but would you consider using your crystal ball? I can’t grasp this odd sense I have about the case. If the situation wasn’t so horrific, women’s lives at stake, I wouldn’t ask.”
Her mother’s eyes filled with sadness. “How can you ask this of me? You know I will not.” Anna’s fists clenched. “I have seen enough pain in my life. No. Never again. The ball will stay locked away in my trunk upstairs.”
Rita cringed. Five years ago, Anna had foreseen her parents’ bullet-riddled bodies in the crystal ball when they had traveled from their home in Romania to visit cousins in Bosnia. Countless telephone calls to her parents went unanswered. Helpless to prevent the tragedy from here in America, Anna had thrown the crystal ball into the trunk and withdrew from the outside world for months.
Jamming her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans as she stood, Rita pulled her shoulders straight. “Sorry, I was hoping you’d make an exception to help me figure out this crazy killer’s ritual. Maybe see a clue. Especially since my amulet’s acting a bit whacko.”
“What does it matter what kind of ritual the murderer is following? Your people still have to catch him.” Anna leaned forward. “I would use it to help you, but I feel strongly that my last sight would taint my perceptions.”
Rita opened her mouth to argue, but Dragus interrupted.
“Enough. Amulet will protect you, always. You need good rest to make strong your mind when you look in dead eyes. Come, it time I play violin. Maybe I bend spoons to amuse customers.”
Rita bit her tongue to keep from spouting words she would regret.
Anna was terrified of seeing another family disaster, and she didn’t have the heart to push her stubborn mother into a guilt trip. Rita gave Anna a quick peck on the cheek. Hugging Dragus once more, she escaped through the rear door of the office.
The lights in the parking lot held back the ink-stained night, but not the dread creeping into her soul. A shiver coursed through her body. Matt’s specific orders that he would take the killer down alone was way off-kilter. Something felt so wrong with this whole scenario. Everyone on the task force knew it. They all wanted answers. She glanced at her watch. Time to change clothes and hit the strip district. Would the crystal continue to give her warnings, or would that power soon fade, too?
Chapter Five
Rita’s red stiletto heels clicked on the sidewalk as she swayed her hips and strolled along. Strands from her blonde wig blew across her face. A beaded tote bag hung from her shoulder, the weight of her .40 caliber Glock inside bumped against her side with each step.
Chilly gusts of wind whipped down the neon-lit street and up her mini-skirt. The waist-length faux fur kept her shoulders warm, but her buns felt like twin snow cones.
Damn, she envied Sully sitting in the warm car across the street. She glanced at his car and tapped the mic at her waist. “Hope you’re warm and cozy, you gray-haired wuss. I’m freezing my ass off.” Sully flicked his cigarette lighter twice inside the car. Rita pictured him chuckling and drinking hot coffee. She’d give her left kidney for a steaming cup right now.
Four girls worked the action outside the Totem Pole, smoking and shivering. A few hookers trolled the street corners. The smarter ones were inside, keeping warm and picking up johns in the bars lining the strip. Raucous laughter and brassy music faded in and out when customers entered or left the clubs.
Rita eyed every car that slowed as it passed. The suspect could have changed vehicles. Hank had Della under his eye on the next block. Sully would swing by and pick her up if Della latched onto their man. Matt parked somewhere in the area, ready to roll.
Footsteps shuffled behind her. Her every sense refocused and went on red alert.
A hand slid under her arm. She tensed.
“Heya, babe.”
She turned her head. The foul breath of an acne-faced kid blasted her. Shit! Just what she needed. A teenager boozed and buzzed.
“Have a…a…twenty. How ‘bout a…a quicky?”
She pasted on a fake smile. “ Jeez, it must be your allowance. Wait just a little ol’ moment, sweetie.” Rita pushed her hair over her shoulder, and then riffled through her bag. She draped her arm around the kid’s pencil-thin neck, pulled him behind a locked newspaper kiosk, and forced him to look down into her purse at her badge.
He jerked upright and went all bug-eyed.
She got into his face and lowered her voice. “Now, get your skinny little ass home to your mother before I haul you downtown and toss you in a cell with Bad Ass Benny.”
He lurched backward and pulled his camo-jacket tighter. “Yesh, ma’am.”
“I see you on these streets, in this condition again, and more than your ass will be swinging with the guy we call Bab’s. Got it?”
“I hear Mama… she callin’.” He reeled away, fast.
Rita hoped she had scarred the kid for life, but had her doubts.
“Laugh, Sully,” she said. “I hope that steaming coffee you’re drinking right now sucked up into your nose.”
The night grew colder. Rita hadn’t been hit on in over an hour, and she ached all over. She paced the block trying to work some warmth into her frozen limbs. Shooting pains ran from her arches to her calves, and her lower back burned. She wanted nothing more than to curl up on her couch in front of the fireplace, snuggle in her afghan, and sip a glass of red wine.
A piercing scream echoed from the alley between Red’s Bar and The Totem Pole. Adrenaline shot through her veins. Jesus, it’s the Ripper!
Rita yelled for Sully, folded her fingers around the Glock in her purse, and headed toward the mouth of the dark alleyway. She bent low near the entrance, then eased around the corner. A cat yowled, then leaped to the ledge above her head. Rita jerked and flattened her back against the cold bricks of the building. Tiny feet scurried across her shoe. She gasped and kicked out her foot. The glare of headlights behind her swept the overflowing garbage cans, creating a macabre dance of shadow and light against the walls. Brakes squealed. A car door opened. She didn’t turn to look, instead she hugged the rough bricks and slid further into the alley’s depth hoping to spot the Ripper. Quickly, she hunkered down behind a trashcan, the rancid smell of old grease turned her stomach.
“I’m here,” Sully said, crouching behind his open door, the car’s headlights left on. “Wait, Rita. Boulet told us not to go it alone.” Sully tipped a flashlight beam around his door to sweep over the trashcans, the brick walls, and then his light flashed on the green dumpster twenty feet ahead on the left. He lowered the beam to the cement. A woman’s bare legs protruded from behind the large green bin.
Rita’s eyes darted from side to side, watching for any slight movement in the shadows. Nothing. Every nerve in her body strung tight, she bent low to approach the dumpster.
Tires skidded behind Sully’s car. A door opened, and running footsteps approached her. A firm hand folded over her pistol while the other held her arm in a vice-like grip. She yanked away, spun, and looked up into heated eyes. “Don’t ever hold onto my gun arm like that again.”
“Then next time follow orders,” said Matt.
Hank’s Crown Vic squealed to a stop after entering the other end of the alley. He probed his flashlight above and into every nook and cranny, holstered his weapon, then joined them. “Nada.”
Rita rounded on Hank. “You left Della alone?”
“Get serious. She’s in the Riverfront Bar. Driscoll’s sitting in a booth with her.”
Relieved, she joined Matt who had squatted to inspect the naked woman lying on the cement. He placed his fingers on her neck. “Gone.”
The woman’s head lay twisted at an unnatural angle. Red festering burn-rings covered her chest. Her jaw was crooked, broken. Blood pooled under her blonde hair. Matt swung his flashlight beam up the side of the brick building. “Tossed. Bounced off the dumpster.” He shook his head. “Someone did a hell of a number on her.”
Rita paced in front of the dumpster, her throat burning with anger. “Crazy bastard!”
“But not the crazy bastard we’re looking for,” Matt said.
Sully called in the scene and requested an immediate search of the surrounding buildings, then left with Hank to start sweeping the apartments above until the uniforms arrived. Rita ripped the flashlight from Matt’s hand and knelt near the woman’s face. She slipped a hand under her coat, hiding her intention. The crystal radiated in her fist. She studied the girl’s open eyes, aware that Matt watched her every move.
Big J’s reflection, one of the roughest pimps running a stable in this end of town, showed in the girl’s open eyes. What the fuck? Rita blinked and peered closer.
Rita shoved the light back at Matt and walked away. She called in a “be on the lookout” to the chief. He’d have dispatch issue the BOLO and assign two other detectives to Big J. She continued to the end of the block. Anna had been right. The crystal hadn’t lost its power. This made no fucking sense. Why did the crystal decide to work now? The question bounced around in her mind, giving her a headache. She rubbed her forehead to ease the tension.
The units arrived and sealed the crime scene.
Matt walked to her. “It’s a wash for tonight, let’s call in our troops. All the uniforms on the scene will keep our man away.” He took her hand. “Damn, your fingers are like ice.” He grabbed both her hands and rubbed them between his, the friction warming more than her fingers. “It’s late. Let me take you back to your car at the station. You look wiped.”
She let her shoulders slump. “Yeah, it’s been a long day.”
The SUV’s seat cushioned her s
ore muscles. Rita let her head fall back on the warm headrest with a deep sense of relief and closed her eyes. Matt turned up the heat, and delicious warmth flowed over her legs. A whisper of breath brushed her cheek, a hand slid over her waist. Her eyes flew open.
He laughed. “I’m just putting your seatbelt on. Don’t panic.”
Rita inhaled deeply and caught the faint scent of spice, pine, and man. His nearness tempted her to lay her head on his broad shoulder, cuddle, and sleep.
The grin he flashed…well, for a moment she could have sworn he had read her thoughts. She sighed with frustration.
They pulled up to the station and he walked her to the Rover. “Lock your car doors. You’re still dressed like you’re ready for action.”
The chilly car seat sent gooseflesh up the back of her thighs. With the door open, she quickly turned the key and hit the heater. When she glanced back up at him, she found his eyes devouring her from the top of her blonde wig, down her legs, then back to rest where the hem of her skirt barely covered her bikini panties. She cocked her head. “What?”
Matt shook his head, took a deep breath, and groaned.
Her gaze strayed to the noticeable bulge in his jeans. She lifted her eyes to meet his. That sinful smile surfaced on his lips again.
“Watch your legs.” He shut the Rover’s door and walked back to his SUV.
Chapter Six
A light sprinkle of rain dotted the windshield. The neon lights along the strip winked within the thin tendrils of mist. “Let’s hope for better luck tonight, Old Man.”
Sully nodded and stopped the car at the corner, in front of Red’s Bar and Grille. Before she got out, Sully clutched the sleeve of her pink plastic raincoat. “Hey kiddo, our player may have had eyes on the scene last night. You watch yourself out there, hear me?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She patted his scruffy cheek. “Now use those wonderful deductive powers that you keep hidden under all that gray hair and figure out why I didn’t wear a wig tonight and changed my outfit.”
He chuckled and squeezed her shoulder. “Okay. Let’s just make like I’m another john dropping you off. I’ll ride around the block and find a parking space across the street.”
Gypsey Blood Page 3
