Her gaze darkened. “Sometimes you act like you know everything,” she grumbled, returning to her pacing. “I think it’s a man thing.”
“And I think it’s a cop thing.” He refused to be drawn into an argument. She was obviously agitated and wanted someone to pick on. He had no intention of being her punching bag. “Just tell me what you’re thinking. I might be able to help.”
“Fine.” She blew out a heavy sigh. “Do we have any firm identification on those girls? The ones in the wall, I mean.”
“No. We have a hunch on one of them. I’m willing to bet it’s a correct hunch, but it’s a hunch all the same.”
“Right.” She pursed her lips. “Is there any way to narrow down hunches on the other girls?”
“We can try, although I’m not certain why that’s important.”
“They’re the victims.”
“I’m not saying that they’re not important in the grand scheme of things,” he reassured her quickly. “Trust me. I would never say that. It’s more that ... I think we need to focus on the killer.”
“Except we don’t know who the killer is. If we can identify the girls, they might lead us to the killer. I mean ... they might all have something in common.”
“I thought we were operating under the assumption that they’re street kids.”
“We are, and that feels right. Still, there are hundreds of street kids out there at any given time. Why were these girls selected? Was it because they’re all blondes? The newest victim and Laura were both blond but, until we know about the others, we can’t ascertain a pattern that way.
“Was it a crime of opportunity?” she continued. “Did our killer lure the girls in specifically?”
“You’re basically wondering if we’re dealing with a preferential offender,” Sully mused, fascinated by her process. “I get where you’re going with this. I just don’t know how we track down specific girls.”
“What about dental records?”
“We’re running them through the database. The problem is, street kids aren’t exactly known for their dental hygiene. Plus, a lot of the records were lost in Katrina. I know I keep saying that, but it’s the truth. We’re better about storing things in the cloud now but that doesn’t change the fact that we can’t go back in time and reclaim lost records.”
“No.” Ofelia rolled her neck. On the surface, she recognized he was speaking the truth. Underneath, though, she was agitated. “Wait a second.” She turned on her heel and closed the distance between them. “All the girls in there had clothing, right?”
Sully nodded. Her abrupt shift had thrown him but he caught up quickly. “Yes. Why is that important?”
“Because we can track the girls through their personal items if there was anything unique in there. I mean, did you log all the items?”
His lips curved down. “Of course I logged all the items. What sort of detective do you think I am?”
“The handsome kind,” she answered without hesitation, offering up a grin. “I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m simply pointing out there might be an easier way to do this. I mean ... were there any purses? Were there any phones? People still carried phones all the time before Katrina. I have to think one of these girls had a phone.”
“There were two phones,” Sully replied, shifting gears and moving to another computer window. “Hold on. I took photos of everything that was logged. Come over here and we can go through it.” He patted the open chair next to him.
Ofelia eyed the seat for a moment, a myriad of ideas running through her head. Ultimately, she took the chair, trying to ignore the way their knees touched as she got comfortable. “Show me what you got.”
His lips quirked at the unintended double entendre. “I thought maybe we would put that off for a little bit,” he countered. “Not long but ... just until we solve this. I don’t want to be irresponsible or anything.”
She pinned him with a look. “Don’t get cute. Now is not the time to flirt. We need to focus.”
“I’m a great multitasker.”
“Focus.” She used her sternest voice, although it took everything she had not to return his smile. “We’ll play the other game after. Think of it as a reward system.”
“That only makes me want to flirt more.”
“Zach.” She was exasperated.
“I kind of like the way you say my name, too.” He refused to let it go. “It makes the butterflies in my stomach do a little dance.”
“Oh, geez.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“That was my intention.” He tapped the screen, sobering. “Here’s all the stuff we collected in the wall. In addition to clothing items and a few jewelry pieces, there were two phones — of the flip variety — and a hammer.”
Ofelia frowned. “A hammer? Was that the murder weapon?”
“We still don’t have a cause of death. We had mummified remains ... and straight-up bones in some cases. The coroner is calling the deaths suspicious for obvious reasons, but we’re not exactly sure how they were killed.”
“If the girls were strangled like Gilly, it’s likely that any evidence would be long gone.”
“Unless the hyoid bone was fractured or broken and I haven’t heard yet on that either way.”
“Hmm.” Ofelia let loose a low hum as she stared at the items on the screen. “What about the phones? I know they were in use years ago, but phone companies should have serial numbers on record.”
“They were burner phones. You know, the TracFones you can get at any Walmart. You don’t have to register them. You simply buy minutes as you go.”
“Ah. That makes sense. These kids couldn’t afford expensive data plans. They had to be careful.”
“Pretty much. The phones are basically a dead end, although we checked them for prints to run through the database. We came up empty there. The only other thing are these jewelry pieces.”
“What are they?” Ofelia focused on the photos Sully brought up. “Rings?” They looked alike. Sterling silver — now tarnished — with identifiable (if cheap) stones set in unique settings. “Were these all found on one girl?”
“Um ... no. They were found in various parts of the wall.”
“But they were all designed by the same person.”
He lifted his head, surprised. “How can you tell that?” He peered harder at the rings. “I mean, they look like decent craftsmanship but they’re not all that similar.”
“Actually, they are.” Ofelia pointed at the screen. “See that? It’s an artist’s mark ... and I happen to know the artist who made these rings.”
“Seriously?” Sully was excited despite himself. “Is he still around?”
“She ... and yes. She’s definitely still around.”
“Do you think she’ll remember who she made these pieces for?”
“It’s a long shot but worth a try.”
“It’s definitely worth a try.” He got to his feet, excited. When she didn’t immediately join him, he held out his hand. “Well, come on.”
She stared at his extended hand for a long beat and then sighed. “We can’t hold hands when we’re working on a case together. That’s not professional.”
The way she said it made him laugh. “How about we just hold hands while we’re walking down the stairs?”
“I ... maybe.” She didn’t take his hand but did get to her feet. “We can hold hands in the stairwell but that’s it ... and I’ll deny holding your hand when we should be focusing on dead girls if anybody ever asks.”
“Duly noted.” He linked his fingers with hers and dragged her toward the door. “Come on. If this jewelry can identify even one of these girls, we might finally be able to make some headway.”
“Why do you think I suggested we needed to identify the girls?” Ofelia grumbled as they descended the stairs. “I’m the one who said it first.”
He was quiet a moment and then laughed, taking her by surprise. “You�
��re competitive. I like that about you.”
“This isn’t about being competitive. It’s about doing what’s right and putting those girls to rest. They’ve been ignored long enough.”
He straightened at her earnest expression. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll make sure those girls have a proper burial before it’s all said and done. You can count on me for that.”
It was never even a consideration. Ofelia knew she could count on him for that before he volunteered the information. “Thank you.” She meant it. “We should get going. The faster we solve this, the faster ... .” She trailed off, suddenly guilty.
“The faster we can go out to dinner, just the two of us, and focus on something fun,” Sully finished. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t make you a bad person to think about things like that. I’m right there with you.”
“Yeah, but maybe you’re a bad person and you simply bury it under mountains of charm and muscles.”
He snorted. “You’re funny. I love a woman who is funny.”
“Focus on the work,” she insisted as they hit the main floor, suddenly releasing his hand. “No more flirting for you until this is finished.”
“Oh, you can’t turn off my flirt machine. It’s inherent.”
“We’ll see.”
“We definitely will.”
TRUDI WINSLOW WAS EVERYBODY’S FAVORITE French Quarter grandmother. Well, that is if grandmothers dealt in illegal paranormal goods and spells. She had long silver hair, which she often wore in a loose bun, and she dressed in ankle-length skirts and peasant tops. She liked to put on a show for the tourists ... and she was good at what she did.
“Ah, a young couple in love,” she intoned, not looking up from the ledger book she was filling out. “Are you here looking for something specific? An engagement ring perhaps. A love potion.” She finally lifted her head and frowned when she realized it was Ofelia. “You’re not a customer.”
Ofelia chuckled at her annoyance. “I’ve bought stuff here before so that’s technically not true. Today I’m not a customer, though. I’m looking for information.”
“Uh-huh.” Trudi’s eyes lit with suspicion as she looked Sully up and down. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Detective Sully. He’s with the New Orleans Police Department.”
“Yeah, I should’ve seen that coming.” Trudi made a tsking sound with her tongue as she shook her head. “I don’t really like cops.”
Despite their reason for being there, Sully found himself amused. “That’s okay. I don’t really like cops either.” He moved to the nearest display case and stared at the jewelry offerings. “You have nice stuff. Do you make it all yourself?”
“I did at one time, but my hands aren’t what they used to be. Arthritis.” She put her fingers on display, as if that was supposed to prove her point, even though they looked largely normal. “I still do some of my own pieces, but I contract out a lot, too. Is that why you’re here? Did one of my artists do something stupid?”
“Given the people you hang out with, that’s probably a foregone conclusion,” Ofelia answered, her eyes drifting to an antique ring that was locked behind the glass. “Is that authentic?”
Trudi followed her gaze, smiling when she realized which piece had gained Ofelia’s attention. “It is. I just got it from an estate sale. It’s from the Agnes Heathstone collection.”
“Oh, wow.” Ofelia let loose a wistful breath. “I bet it’s expensive.”
“It is.”
Sully moved to stand next to Ofelia, his attention focused on the ring. “Who is Agnes Heathstone?”
“She was a society woman from the late 1800s,” Trudi replied. “She had a rather ... colorful ... reputation.”
“She was a witch,” Ofelia added when Sully slid her a look. “She was the predominant witch of her time. The reason she was so rich is because she sold potions to people.”
Sully found he was intrigued. “Love potions?”
“Amongst others. She didn’t much care what magic rules she broke. She would offer potions for pretty much anything, including killing an unfaithful lover and shriveling penises.”
Sully instinctively backed away from the ring. “Well, that’s lovely.”
Trudi snickered at his obvious discomfort. “By today’s standards, she wouldn’t be considered a good witch. By the standards back then, she was something to be feared.”
“And this is her ring?” Sully inclined his head. “Why would anyone want to wear that?”
“It’s a beautiful piece,” Ofelia replied. “It’s not about the woman who wore it.”
“Ofelia loves antique jewelry,” Trudi supplied. “I could hold onto this one for you if you like.” Her eyes were full of kindness. “I understand it might take you a bit to save up for it.”
Ofelia was sorely tempted. “How much?”
“Fifteen grand.”
Her mouth went dry. “Oh, well ... you probably shouldn’t hold onto it. There’s no way I’m going to have that much extra anytime soon.”
“Are you sure?” It was almost as if Trudi could sense her disappointment. “I mean ... the way you’re looking at the ring, it’s almost as if you were meant for each other.”
“Yeah, but there’s no way I’m going to drain my savings to buy a ring.” Ofelia was firm as she dragged her eyes from the item in question. “I honestly love it. There’s no way I can justify buying it, though.”
“If you say so. I guess that means it’s time to talk business. Do you want to tell me why you’re here?”
Sully gave the ring one more look and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. He’d saved the photos of the rings discovered in the wall to his files so he would have easy access. “Do you recognize these pieces?” He held up the phone.
Trudi’s lips pursed as she studied the images. “They look vaguely familiar,” she said after a beat. “I clearly made them. They’ve got my mark.”
“That’s what I recognized,” Ofelia prodded. “I don’t suppose you know who bought them, do you?”
“Not off the top of my head.” Trudi was suddenly uncomfortable. “What’s going on? You usually don’t bring cops into my store when asking questions. Is this something I should be worried about?”
“I don’t know.” Ofelia saw no reason to lie. “Have you been watching the news? The rings were found with the six bodies hidden behind the wall in the building next to mine. They’d been there since before Katrina.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Trudi’s face as she glanced back at Sully. “That explains why he’s here.”
“I’m also going to date Ofelia as soon as this case is behind us,” Sully volunteered. “You might be seeing me around. You should probably get comfortable with that.”
Ofelia shot him a look. “Don’t be a pain. Not everybody is comfortable hanging out with cops, even if you are one of the good ones.”
“I’m just saying.” Sully was blasé. “We haven’t been able to positively identify any of the girls. If you can help us ... .”
“I honestly don’t sell jewelry to a lot of women,” Trudi volunteered. “It’s usually men looking for gifts for significant others ... or temporary dalliances. I mean ... can you give me a hint about these dead girls? What did they look like? It’s been a long time, but anything is possible.”
“We don’t know anything about them, other than they were probably street girls.”
“There’s no way street girls could’ve afforded my stuff, even back then,” Trudi countered. “Nothing of mine was ever stolen. I was careful about that. Is it possible someone else bought the rings and gave them to the girls?”
That was something Ofelia hadn’t considered. Sully, however, stirred.
“What about Robert Windsor?” he asked, drawing the woman’s attention to him. “Did you ever sell him any jewelry?”
“Robert? Yeah. He stopped in every six months or so and bought a few pieces.” She went back to staring at the rings. “I don’t specifically remember
selling those to him, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”
“Is there a way for you to check?” Ofelia pressed. “I mean ... you probably kept credit card records, right?”
“From fifteen years ago?” Trudi was dubious. “Do you know how many sales transactions I go through in a month?”
“It would just be in the few months before Katrina. I know it’s a pain but ... those girls were shoved in a wall and forgotten. They deserve more than that.”
Trudi let loose a huge sigh. “Oh, geez. I hate it when you say things like that.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and stared at the fan as she scratched her chin. “I can give it a shot. I can’t guarantee anything, though.”
“Thank you.” Ofelia beamed at her. “I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I like you.” Trudi turned gruff as she focused on Sully. “As for you, I’m only trusting you because this one obviously does. That doesn’t mean I’m behind her dating you. Technically, I think dating a cop is always a mistake. I’m going to tell her that every chance I get.”
Sully found he liked her honesty. “It’s okay. She’s still going to date me. I’m too charming for her to stay away from.”
That was enough to make Trudi laugh. “Something tells me you’re right. Either way, I’ll go through my records tonight and see if I can find anything. I’m warning you right now, though, it’s a long shot.”
“That’s okay,” Ofelia reassured her. “We’ll take anything we can get.”
Fourteen
Ofelia and Sully stopped by the hospital once finished with Trudi. They both had a lot to think about, but Bernie was still a consideration. The doctor stood outside the room, staring at a report from one of the nurses, and when he shifted his gaze to Ofelia, there was wonder reflected there rather than annoyance.
“How did you know?”
Ofelia was taken aback and glanced over her shoulder to see if someone was trailing behind them. “Know what?” she asked finally.
“Know how to treat his fever.”
“Oh, um, it’s an old family recipe that has never let me down.” She felt put on the spot. “Does that mean he’s doing better?”
Witch Confidential Page 13
