Fugue Macabre: Ghost Dance (Fugue Macabre Trilogy Book 1)

by C. J. Parker

  A distant memory of Oscar sitting away from the other firemen, eating a bagged lunch brought from home tiptoed across his mind. When asked why he always brought his lunch he’d replied his wife placed a spell over it to keep him safe. Oscar would then laugh and go back to his meal. Derek wondered now. “Can I ask you one more question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “You have some kind of magic like Tabatha, right?”

  She inhaled deeply releasing it in a slow stream of breath. “Some call it reading tea leaves. I can look into them and see things. Sometimes it’s the future or a warning. I’ll never be like Tabatha, son. She’s special among the special.”

  Bertha paused as if in thought, then nodded her head. “Let me tell you the story of the Gray Legacy,” she began. “You need to know.”

  Tabatha sat in the waiting room with elbows on knees, head in hands, one of her hands bandaged, her hair hanging down her arms to the calves of her legs. She rocked slowly.

  Derek’s heart ached at the desperation in her body language.

  “I’m here.” He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. “They’re going to be all right, sweetheart.”

  Tabatha nodded but said nothing.

  Derek brushed his lips over her forehead and breathed in her rose scent. “Have you heard anything since they were brought in?”

  “No. The doctors and nurses keep running in and out but don’t stop to talk to me.” She released a combination hiccup-sob. “Surely we’ll hear something soon.”

  This worried Derek. In his experience no news wasn’t good news when it came to doctors. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “What was it like back there in the car? You scared the hell out of me. You went into a trance or something. Your eyes dilated so much there was no color left to them.” His palms broke out in a sweat at the memory.

  She cradled her face into the crook of his neck. “Imagine you can see something happening but from inside the heads of the people it’s happening to. Like you’re looking out of their eyes.” She shivered in his arms and he drew her closer. “You’ve got your own emotions and theirs to wade through, while trying to keep your sanity. You lose the sensation of being you. You become that other person for a fleeting moment. Feel their emotions. Smell their surroundings. Taste the air they breathe.”

  Derek couldn’t even imagine what that must be like. “Shit, that must suck.”

  Tabatha snorted with laughter. “Yeah. It sucks.”

  “Ma’am, are you Dr. Gray?” The nurse’s voice drew a started yelp from Tabatha.

  She stood abruptly, facing the nurse. “Yes. Is my mom okay? My friend?”

  “Rhonda Meads will be released in a day or two. But the doctor wants to keep your mother a little longer.”

  Tabatha drew a tattered tissue from her pants’ pocket and wiped her nose. “Can I go to her?”

  “Dr. Rider will be out soon. I’m sure he’ll let you see her, but she’s going to be sedated and may not make a lot of sense.”

  Tabatha swatted away the tears trailing her cheeks. “I just want to make sure she’s okay. I need to see for myself.”

  Derek watched her every move, from the shake of her hands, to the tears that flowed down her cheeks. But he also noticed her shoulders squaring, her spine straightening. She was putting on her brave face for Carla.

  The nurse smiled and patted Tabatha on the arm. “I understand, ma’am. I’d feel the same way if it were my mother.” She glanced behind her. “Here comes Dr. Rider now. Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

  “Thank you.” Tabatha leaned against Derek. He wrapped his arms around her and willed her to take some of his strength.

  “Dr. Gray?” The doctor’s silver-gray, short-cropped hair stuck up in disarray. “I’m Dr. Rider. Your mother has told us all about you, young lady.”

  Tabatha stiffened in Derek’s arms. Derek wondered how much Carla had said and about what. But with further thought, Derek doubted Carla would freely offer information she found embarrassing about her daughter. “Is she going to be all right?”

  “Second and third degree burns on her arms and legs, made worse by the fact that the robe she wore melded with her skin. We had to peel away the material, and the skin came with it. She’s in a lot of pain, but the Demerol will take effect soon.” She glanced down at the folder in his hands, and paused. “I’m concerned about the other symptoms she’s exhibiting. Has she complained of feeling ill before the fire? Tired? Nauseated? Listless?”

  The symptoms the doctor listed set off alarm bells in Derek’s head. In his years on the force he’d handled too many poisonings to let the doctor’s words pass without catching his attention. His recollection of Nyssa’s use of poisons in her past was a concern.

  Tabatha nodded. “She had an appointment to see her doctor about it. Our friend Bertha would be more able to answer your questions.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been gone for a while, but Bertha sees Mom on a regular basis. I’ll have her come to see you, if you’d like.”

  Dr. Rider nodded. “That might be a good idea. I’ll let you go in and see Mrs. Gray, but make it short. She needs her rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  Derek stayed at Tabatha’s side as she started toward Carla’s room. “Hold on. Are you family?” Dr. Rider asked Derek.

  The question stayed Derek for a moment. He glanced at Tabatha by his side and waited for her reply. He found he wanted to be considered part of this family, no matter how screwed up it was. Tabatha grasped his arm in both hands, as if she were afraid he’d leave her. “He’s with me.”

  Rider shook his head. “Only family right now. Sorry.”

  Derek flashed his badge. “I’m going in.”

  The doctor bristled, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. “The patient isn’t up for questions, Detective. I won’t allow it.”

  Derek nodded. “I won’t say a word. I’m not leaving my girl’s side, though. I just want to be there in case she needs me.”

  Dr. Rider’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah. So that’s it. Very well. But, mind you, no questions.”

  As they walked to the side of the bed, Carla looked at her daughter. Tears streamed over her temples into her hair. “I hurt, Tabby. Make it stop.” Carla’s hair lay in damp strands on the pillow. She smelled of smoke and burnt flesh. The odor of hospital disinfectants blended with the other scents into a nauseating mixture.

  Tabatha started to touch her mother’s thigh, but she must have thought better of it and drew her hand back. “It will soon, Momma. Try to sleep.”

  Carla reached out and patted Tabatha on the arm. “The house? Is it gone?”

  “No. The firemen doused the flames pretty quickly.” Tabatha trailed her fingertips over Carla’s forehead. “Mostly smoke damage they said. You shouldn’t be worrying about that right now.”

  “My room?” Carla turned her gaze on Derek. “Is my room gone?”

  Derek pulled the chair behind Tabatha. She sat without an argument. “Carla, we’ve not been in your room, so don’t worry. And the firemen were in and out after the fire was extinguished. Nothing will be missing.”

  “Derek?” She drew a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry about Mary. How is Frank taking it?”

  Derek glanced at Tabatha. How much had she told Carla?

  “Momma, Frank was killed, too.” Tabatha leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.

  “He tried to love her, but she’d never let him forget he wasn’t Derek. Never good enough.” Carla dabbed at a tear making a trail down her temple. “I wanted to tell someone, but I couldn’t be sure. It was just a feeling. No proof.”

  Derek filled the glass on the bedside table with water, and held it to her lips. He sat the glass within her reach after she had taken a few sips of the water. “It’s okay, Carla. Rest. It’s not important now. It’s over.”

  “No.” She shifted her gaze to her daughter, more than pain showed in her tense expression. “Go in my room. It’s okay. You’ll find e
verything you’ve been looking for. Save what you can.”

  That must be one cramped room to have every answer for Tabatha. But he had to admit the thought of going into Carla’s room was intriguing. What secrets did it hold?

  “I don’t understand, Momma.” Tabatha’s brow crinkled. “What are you so afraid of?”

  “I can’t be poor again, Tabby. I couldn’t bear it.” Carla clamped her teeth together with a snap. “When Nyssa told me your will left her in control of the money, I was afraid I’d end up with nothing.”

  Derek had to hand it to Nyssa, she’d thought of everything.

  “Momma, if I died today everything would be yours.”

  Carla gasped. “Don’t say that.”

  The corners of Tabatha’s mouth quivered. “It’s just an expression, Momma. Nyssa and Bertha will be taken care of if I should die before them. But you will be the main beneficiary. I’d never cut you out of my life or my will. And you don’t have to worry about money. Paw-Paw invested well. None of us will ever hurt for money. So relax. You’ll never be poor again. I promise.”

  This talk of money set Derek’s stomach into a downfall. Tabatha was rich. He wasn’t. Would this cause a rift between them? He wasn’t broke by any means, but a clean cop would never be wealthy.

  Carla sighed, closed her eyes and smiled. “I’m safe?”

  “Yes, Momma. You’re safe.” Tabatha took Derek’s hand in his. “We’ll take care of you.”

  Tabatha’s emphasis on “we” wasn’t lost on Derek. With that one word he knew. He was family. He was Tabatha’s man and Carla could trust him to protect her.

  Carla’s breathing slowed. At Tabatha’s nod toward the door, he readied to leave but turned back at the sound of Carla’s gasp for air.

  “Stay out of the garage. Something terrible. She’s got too many secrets and bad ways. Don’t trust her.” Carla’s hands flailed for theirs.

  “Be still, Carla. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Derek brushed her hair away from her face. “Relax. I’m here. I’ll make sure you’re both safe. No one is going to hurt my girls.”

  “Your girls,” Carla whispered. “Safe.” Then she slept.

  Derek thought about his promise. Could he keep Carla and Tabatha safe? He would or die trying.

  Tabatha slipped her hand into his as they walked down the hallway. They’d nearly made it to the elevator when angry voices rang out from the waiting room. He recognized Bertha and Nyssa’s voices and stilled their forward motion.

  Tabatha groaned and buried her face against Derek’s chest. “It’s Nyssa and Bertha. Stay here. I’ll put a stop to this.”

  Derek drew her closer, his arms tightening around her waist. The idea of Tabatha alone with Nyssa made his heart freeze in fear. “No. I’m coming with you.”

  She drew a deep breath before stepping out of his embrace and entered the waiting room. She stood in the doorway staring at the two women standing toe to toe.

  Nyssa bared her teeth, her voice escaping in a low rumble of hatred. “I want you out of my house, you black bitch.”

  “Nyssa!” Tabatha strode toward the two women, her soles striking the tiled floor and echoing in the sudden silence. “When has Bertha ever been in your house?”

  Derek watched each movement, each facial expression that crossed Nyssa’s face. Over the years he’d leaned to recognize a suspect’s calculated movements and thoughts, and Nyssa was thinking out everything she did and said. Every smile was a second too slow in coming. Every comment began with a pause of thought.

  “This is between Bertha and me. Nothing for you to worry about.” Nyssa smiled and reached out to touch Tabatha’s face, but Tabatha stepped out of her reach. “Tabby. What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” Nyssa jerked her gaze back to Bertha. “You. You’ve poisoned her against me.” Nyssa’s fists came up claw-like ready to attack. Nyssa’s breath escaped in a gushing gasp as she flew backward, landing on the leather sofa.

  Tabatha brought her face close to the Nyssa’s and stared her in the eyes. “If you come anywhere near my family or friends again, you will pay for your sins, Nyssa. Paw-Paw figured out your game, didn’t he? He was going to cut you out completely.”

  Nyssa’s chin lifted, her jaw jutting out in a defiant point. “He loved me. It was Carla and this black bitch that poisoned his mind against me.” Bertha’s spine stiffened. Nyssa gritted her teeth and snarled at Tabatha. “It should have been mine. He was going to change the will. He promised me.”

  “Watch your mouth, Nyssa.” Tabatha backed away from her. “Come on, Bertha. It’s time to go home. The doctors want Mom to rest tonight.”

  “You can’t choose her over me.” Nyssa’s voice was incredulous. “I’m the one who raised you. I taught you everything you know.”

  Tabatha’s expression hardened. Derek could see the hate emanating out of her gaze at Nyssa.

  “She.” Tabatha wrapped her hands around Nyssa’s throat. “Is.” Nyssa’s cheeks reddened. “My.” Tabatha touched her nose to Nyssa’s. “Mother!” The last word was shouted in Nyssa’s wide-eyed, wide-open mouth, stare. “The choice has been made. Do not step foot on my property again. Stay out of my life. Stay away from my garage.”

  Nyssa’s face paled, and she swallowed several times. “All my tools are in there. How can I take care of my gardens? No. It’s mine. You can’t do that.”

  Derek wrapped his hands around Tabatha’s waist and drew Tabatha away from Nyssa. Too much had been said and Nyssa’s madness made her a dangerous woman. “You’ll be served with a restraining order within the hour, Mrs. Bouchard. You’ll be allowed, for now, to remain in the caretaker’s cottage, but you will not come any closer. Do you understand?”

  “You can’t put me out of my house. Raoul said it was mine until I died.”

  A smile lifted the corners of Derek’s mouth. “If you believe nothing else believe this. I will find proof of your guilt, Nyssa. You’re going down.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Daybreak, still an hour away, draped the house in a melancholy blackness. Soot-encrusted windows allowed enough of the streetlamps’ glow to enter and form the shadows that took shape and danced like living entities on the walls. Water seeped through the ceiling, drop by drop, as if the house cried for its injuries. The heavy smell of kerosene and scorched wood permeated everything. Humid, smoke-choked air stung Tabatha’s nose with every intake of breath. The atmosphere reminded her of a steaming vat of crab boil.

  Tabatha ran her fingertips over a soaked armchair and for an instant saw her grandfather sitting in its comforting softness. She longed to sit in his lap and feel his arm around her one last time. Her grandfather had always made her feel safe.

  He raised his gaze to meet hers, shrugged his shoulders, smiled and said, So what, Tabath? It’s just a chair. Time to pick your own furnishings, sweet face. And with those words touching her heart and mind, he vanished leaving behind the soft scent of cherry-blend tobacco and Old Spice cologne. She inhaled its sweet fragrance and the warmth of her grandfather’s touch ran from her wrist to her shoulder. A bright light sliced though the darkness. Tabatha released a startled yelp before she saw Derek in the dim light behind the flashlight.

  “Derek, you scared me.” She placed her hand over her heart and exhaled.

  “Sorry. I remembered I had a flashlight in the trunk of my car. Department issue. Stronger than anything you can buy.” Derek ran the beam of light over the immense room. “Didn’t think there would be this much damage down here.”

  She followed the beam of light around the room. The smut streaked wall, the sagging wallpaper were all a reminder that someone wanted to cause her and her family harm. “Mom’s suite is directly overhead. The rest of the bedrooms run the length of the hallway and dining room. Maybe the kitchen was spared, since no one was staying above it.” Tabatha shrugged her shoulders in a slow roll of tense muscles. “I’ll have to find a place for us to live.”

  “What about my condo?” Tabatha’s mind r
ecoiled against that idea. Too many memories there for Derek and it could never be theirs. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped sweat from his face. “It’s not Gray Manor, but it’s dry and cool.”

  She shook her head. “Mom will need a place to go when she gets out of the hospital. And I’m not leaving Bobbie and Rhonda to fend for themselves. I need to find a place large enough for all of us.”

  Derek wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to his side. “Think you can handle staying there until we find a place? You may not find anything today.”

  Tabatha didn’t understand why men were so dense when it came to women. But then, women didn’t understand them either. She turned into his arms, accepting the comfort he offered. “We’ll talk about this later. I want to see the rest of the house.”

  He ran his hands over her back and lowered his face into her hair. “We both need rest, and you’ll not be able to see much in this darkness.”

  Bertha stepped over the threshold and clicked her tongue. “Lord, have mercy. Look what that bitch done, baby girl. What was she thinking? She claims to love this house then tries to burn it to the ground.” She stormed past them and headed toward the kitchen.

  Tabatha brain cringed. Nyssa started the fire? No. She wouldn’t go that far. Would she?

  Derek glanced from Bertha back to Tabatha. “She’s convinced Nyssa is the one that did this?”

  She shrugged. “You know, she’s right about one thing. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why would Nyssa try to burn down the house?”

  “One thing I’ve learned in all my years in law enforcement is not to discount anything.” Derek ran the flashlight’s beam over the ceiling. “The minute you do, it’ll jump up and bite you on the ass.”

  Something in the stagnant air stung Tabatha’s nose and eyes. She rubbed at her eyes. Bad move. The stinging increased. “I’ve got so many people trying to kill me, I’m beginning to feel like public enemy number one.”

  The overhead light came on and she took a step away from Derek. Bertha appeared in the doorway and smiled. “The firemen turned the power off at the breaker box, I can’t see what it would harm to turn them on long enough to check the place out. What you think, baby boy? I flipped off everything but the necessities. The icebox is unplugged, the water heater and air conditioner is off.”