[Mystic Caravan Mystery 05.0] Freaky Places
Page 13
Desdemona snagged the wig. “Fine. For the record, I wasn’t trying to play games. I was simply trying to feel you guys out. You’re obviously powerful.”
“We are,” I agreed. “What can you tell us about the girls?”
“They’re all young, between the ages of sixteen and twenty,” she answered. “They don’t look alike. They’re not all blonds or anything. They’re all thin.”
“That means what you inferred from that bulletin board is correct,” Raven said. “It’s not exactly earth shattering, but it is confirmation.”
I nodded. “How long?”
“Six months.”
“And there are no leads?”
Desdemona shook her head. “I’ve poked around in Walker’s head. There’s not a lot there. He’s aware something bad is happening. He knows the young women in this area are in danger. The mayor has severely limited what Walker can do.”
“Is that why no warnings have gone out?” Raven asked.
“Exactly.” Desdemona sipped her tea. “The mayor knows better than holding a news conference and announcing that possibly one-hundred girls have gone missing.”
“That seems like a large number,” I noted. “Surely some of the girls who have gone missing have done so voluntarily. The area is too big for it to be otherwise.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t argue with that. But most of them have been taken. I’ve tried to meditate in an effort to make contact with them – usually doing it as soon as possible after I find out someone has disappeared – but I haven’t come up with much.”
“Do you think they’re all dead?”
“No. However, I think they’re all changed.”
That was an odd phrase. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t sense who they used to be,” Desdemona explained. “Usually that’s not a problem for me. At first I chalked it up to the cancer weakening me, but I don’t think that’s it. Something else is happening that somehow alters their minds.”
That was mighty interesting. “Drugs?”
“I can’t rule that out.”
“It could also be magic,” Raven suggested. “Someone could be putting spells on them to keep them docile. Even if you knock that big number in half and assume only fifty girls have been taken, that means forty-seven are still out there. How do you control that many kidnapped girls?”
“This area is thick with witches,” I noted. “Maybe we should try to track down one of the covens.”
“That never goes well.” Raven made a face. “You know how I feel about witches. It’s the same way your boyfriend feels about clowns.”
Desdemona shuddered. “Who doesn’t hate clowns?”
I pointed at Raven. “Her boyfriend is a clown.”
“For real?” Desdemona cracked a genuine smile. “Maybe I should visit the circus this weekend. It sounds like you guys have fun.”
“We definitely have fun, and I have tickets for the big show if you want them. I think it’s a good idea for you to visit. We can keep each other updated.”
“So what are you going to do?” Desdemona asked. “How will you find who is doing this?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll figure something out, though.”
“We always do,” Raven said. “By the way, you look better without the wig. Be bold. Wear the scarf over your real hair.”
“But … people will stare.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Raven got to her feet. “We’ll be in touch. This one is going to take more legwork. We need to come up with a plan to track the missing girls, and I don’t think it’s going to be easy.”
“No,” I agreed. “Whoever did this put a lot of thought into it. We’re not going to luck into a solution. We need to think hard and fast if we’re going to outsmart him or her. We don’t have a lot of time.”
The serious nods from the other two women told me on that we could all agree.
14
Fourteen
After leaving Desdemona’s shop, we headed for the beach where Katie’s body washed up. Raven, who always preferred wearing black, seemed a bit overdressed, but she ignored the curious stares and doffed her shoes so she could wade in the water.
The immediate area where Katie washed ashore was cordoned off with police tape, but the beach was open down the way, so we picked a spot close but not near enough that we’d make people suspicious.
“Do you sense anything?” I curiously watched Raven slosh through the water. She seemed to be having a good time.
“No, but I didn’t really expect to. That would be too easy.” Raven bent over and slid her fingertips through the water. “I grew up by the ocean. I like when we visit a spot close to the beach like this. Of course, it would be more entertaining if we weren’t looking for a killer.”
“What did you think of Desdemona, other than the obvious, I mean?”
“I like her, but she’s not long for this world and she knows it. She’s weak, but holding on because of this case. It eats at her in ways she doesn’t understand. It also bolsters her. Once this is done, she will go … and I’m not sure she realizes it.”
“We can’t stop trying to help these girls because of her.”
“I didn’t say we should. It’s just … I hate it when I’m faced with mortality. It always leaves me feeling … blah.” Raven exhaled heavily as she shook off the heavy musings. “Well, enough of that. I hate deep thoughts.”
Despite the serious nature of our conversation, I found myself smiling. “You are an enigma.”
“I am,” Raven agreed. “The water is full of energy, and very little of it is good. I can’t follow magic in water. I think we need Naida for that.”
“Now there’s an idea.” I brightened. “We can send her out after dark tonight. She might be able to follow the trail.”
“That was my idea, too. The thing is, she wasn’t taken in the water. That means she left a trail on land. Because she’s dead, we might be able to follow it.”
“Is that a lamia thing?”
“Kind of. I can follow the trail of the dead if I put my mind to it. We’re dealing with a limited timetable, so I figure it’s worth a shot. I’m not guaranteeing anything, but it won’t hurt to try … especially because Kade promised to make Melissa work in the House of Mirrors all afternoon. That means she’s doing my work and I have time to waste.”
I was surprised. “When did he promise that?”
“When I cornered him after breakfast. You were off getting your computer so we could look up area psychics.”
“You cornered him?”
Raven slipped on her shoes and marched up the beach. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It wasn’t like that. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a boyfriend of my own.”
I pictured Percival’s flabby white cheeks sagging out of the chaps. “Oh, I noticed.”
Raven’s smile was impish. “I saw what flashed through your mind just now. It was right on the surface. That was a breathtaking view, wasn’t it?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer. “It was … unique.”
“I’m guessing you and Kade don’t roleplay, huh?” Raven was breezy as she pointed us toward the crafts fair. “You should try it. It’s … invigorating.”
My discomfort was almost overwhelming. “I don’t think we should be talking about this.”
“Please. You’re such a prude.” Raven rolled her eyes. “If you think I’m embarrassed, I’m not. I like a guy who can think outside of the clown car.”
Now there was a troubling vision. “Well … good for you then.”
“Yes, I think so.”
We lapsed into silence as we walked past the various booths. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable feeling, but it was hardly taxing. Finally, Raven broke the quiet.
“I sense … something.”
“Do you want to be more specific?”
“I’m not sure I can. I’m not even sure it’s Katie. It’s just … something.”
“Like … ?”
&nb
sp; “Like a whisper under the wind.” Raven pressed her eyes shut and cocked her head. “It’s voices, more than one – I can’t really tell how many because they overlap – and they’re asking for help.”
I pushed thoughts of Raven and Percival’s rather unique relationship out of my mind. “Do they say anything about what happened to them?”
“No. It’s more a plea than anything else.” Raven stepped forward. “I’m lost. Please find me.” She took another step. “It’s dark. I can’t find my way.” Another step. “There’s someone here. We are not alone.” She turned to her left and focused on a booth. “We can’t get out without help.”
Raven’s voice was so eerie, nothing more than a raspy whisper, that it turned my blood to ice. “Is that what they’re saying?”
“They’re saying a lot of things, and it’s hard to make out.” Raven shook her head and focused on the booth. “I think Katie was in this area right before she disappeared. I’ve been trying to pick her out of the din, but it’s difficult.”
“So let’s look around here.” I allowed my gaze to land on the booth and internally cringed when I realized it was the doll booth. “Oh, well, great.”
“You don’t like dolls, do you?” Raven was amused.
I pictured the doll from my childhood and shivered. “Not particularly.”
Raven snapped her head in my direction. “What happened with that doll?”
I couldn’t shut down my shock. “You saw that?”
“You had a visceral response. You couldn’t hide it fast enough.”
“I killed that doll.” I offered up a hollow laugh. “I know that’s a weird way to put it, but I’m convinced it was alive.”
“I’ve heard weirder things. They made those Chucky movies for a reason. I’m sure something inspired them.”
“I think we would’ve heard if a doll went on a murderous rampage,” I pointed out dryly.
“Not that part.” Raven wrinkled her nose. “I’m talking about the part where the killer transferred his soul into the doll. I can guarantee that’s happened before.”
The notion caught me off guard. “But … how? Dolls aren’t real.”
“They’re not, but look at those voodoo dolls Nixie sells. They’re real humans before she shrinks them down and offers them for purchase. Granted, they’re evil humans, but they’re still alive. What do you think happens to those souls after the bodies are rendered inert?”
I opted for the truth. “I don’t like thinking about it. I know the people she uses her dust on have done wrong – most of them are murderers and rapists … oh, and the occasional sociopath thrown in for good measure – but it’s still weird to think about them trapped as dolls.”
“I think it’s fun.” Raven was never one for sentiment. “They’re also still stuck in there. As perhaps an unintended consequence of the pixie magic, the souls are trapped. They don’t escape … ever.”
“They don’t?” That was news to me. “So they’re stuck in there forever.”
“Or at least until the doll is destroyed. Then the soul is freed. Those dolls are technically possessed until that happens. I’m guessing that’s what happened to the doll from your childhood.”
“But how would that happen?”
Raven shrugged. “How does any of it happen? How do we do the things we do? You’ll probably never know how it occurred. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
I drifted closer to the doll booth, glaring at the one that caught my attention the first time I strolled through the area. It sat on the counter, its leg hanging over the side, and it seemed to be watching me. “I was never much of a doll person.”
“Me either. When I was a kid, dolls were made of corn cobs and looked even weirder than these things.” Raven picked up the doll and stared into its button eyes. “No soul here.”
That was a relief. “I swear I saw it move the other day.”
“That’s because you’re predisposed to be suspicious of dolls. This one is empty. Katie was here, though. I don’t know if it was her last stop. In fact … .” Raven trailed off when the man behind the counter straightened and fixed her with a curious look. “And who are you?”
If the artisan was insulted by Raven’s direct approach, he didn’t show it. He seemed amused more than anything else. “My name is Charles Bates.”
“Bates, huh?” Raven dropped the doll on the counter, keeping her full focus on him. “Are you like Norman Bates?”
Bates chuckled, causing his eyes to cross a bit and give him a mildly sinister look that made me think of a bad horror movie. “Not last time I checked.”
“And you made these?”
I let Raven keep up the conversation, mostly because I was too distracted by the odd ragdolls hanging about. They sat patiently on shelves, waiting for someone to come and give them a forever home, yet I couldn’t shake the idea that they were watching me. I knew it was ridiculous, but I felt it all the same.
Raven flicked the spot between my eyebrows. “Stop that. They’re not watching you.”
My mouth dropped open as I rubbed the spot. “Did you just flick me?”
“Shutter better or stop complaining.” Raven turned back to Bates. “I have to ask … why dolls?”
Bates shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because you’re a grown man and no one trusts an adult male who makes dolls for a living,” Raven replied, refusing to back down.
Bates barked out a laugh that was so hoarse it caused my stomach to turn. “You’re funny. I like that.”
“Don’t even think about getting perverted,” Raven warned. “I’m already dating a clown. I draw the line at doll maker.”
Bates clutched at his heart. “You wound me.”
“At least you have a good sense of humor.” Raven was droll. “You’ll need to hold onto that as long as you insist on making dolls. Still, what’s the story with these things? What gave you the idea to make them in the first place, let alone sell them at a crafts fair?”
Bates shrugged. “I made the first one for my daughter when she was three. My mother taught me to sew as a young boy and it’s a skill I never forgot. I didn’t have a lot of money, but I did have some crafts supplies around, so I made my daughter a doll … and she carried it everywhere until she was five. She even had it with her when she tried to cross the road by herself – without looking – and was struck down. I buried it with her.”
I was horrified. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
Raven made a face. “He’s making it up. That didn’t happen.”
Bates widened his eyes. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, but you’re a masterful storyteller,” Raven replied. “I bet you dust off that story whenever you’re in danger of losing a sale, huh?”
“It’s the truth.”
“You’ve never been married,” Raven countered. “You’ve never had a daughter, at least to your knowledge. You’ve spent the better part of your life staring down the bottom of a bottle. You’re fine with that and are not inclined to change.”
“You’re good.” Bates folded his arms over his chest. “How is it you know that?”
“I was struck by lightning as a child and ever since I’ve been able to see the pasts of others,” Raven replied wryly.
“Why really?”
“Because I’m with Mystic Caravan Circus,” Raven explained. “We all have a bit of … shine … to us.”
“I can see that.” Bates’ friendly demeanor had all but disappeared. “I would appreciate it if you minded your business where my dolls are concerned.”
“That’s no problem at all.” Raven nudged me to the left with her hip. “Make sure you stick to touching dolls and nothing else.”
Bates was offended. “I would never … !”
Raven waved off his outrage. “Keep it that way. I’ll know if you break from your promise. I’m good when it comes to stuff like that.”
“And now you know why I stick to dolls,” Bates sneered. “Real wom
en are way too much work.”
Raven offered up a half salute. “On behalf of the female population, we thank you.”
“WHAT WAS THAT?”
I barely managed to contain myself until we were out of earshot.
“I don’t like him.” Raven’s response was simple. “We need to watch him. He managed to shutter his mind relatively well after I conducted my initial reading, which shouldn’t be possible for a mere mortal without a bit of coaching. I saw a few things before that.”
“Like what?”
“Like he’d be more than happy to be the salami in a sandwich if you and I wanted to be the bread.”
Ugh. That was stomach turning. “So he’s a pervert.”
“He’s also a champion liar. That story he spun was well thought out, and I’m sure he’s sold more than a few dolls on the back of it.”
“We’re technically liars, too,” I reminded her. “We lie to protect ourselves. Maybe he does the same.”
“Yes, but I don’t think the things he wants to hide can be misconstrued as altruistic by any stretch of the imagination. It hardly matters.” Raven slowed her pace and glanced over her shoulder. “And look who he’s talking to now.”
I followed her gaze, frowning when I caught sight of Barney and Paige. The young woman looked bored, but her father was in the middle of some story – that seemed to be his favorite hobby, after all – and Bates appeared to be listening even though his gaze was fixed on us.
“It’s probably just a coincidence. Barney’s booth is only two down. They’ve most likely been hanging out.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like Barney either,” Raven supplied. “He’s hiding something, too. He’s much better at it than Bates. Also … there’s something up with that kid.”
I felt the same way, so I was understandably intrigued. “She’s a witch.”
“Interesting.”
“I don’t know that she knows she’s a witch,” I added. “She heard the lullaby when we unleashed it the night of the dreamcatcher spell. She kept tilting her head, as if she was trying to pick up the refrain and couldn’t quite do it.”