The Hexorcist

by Lily Harper Hart

  Sully puzzled out the statement for a beat. “You’re saying you have nothing.”

  “I’m saying I have nothing,” he agreed. “There’s just ... nothing.”

  Sully wasn’t in the mood for games. “There has to be something. That man was twenty-four years old. He’s only been out of college for a year. He had his entire life in front of him. He didn’t just drop dead without a cause.”

  “Well, normally I would agree with you but ... I can’t find a cause.” Jimmy’s eyes were sullen over the mask he wore. “There’s nothing wrong with his heart. I see no signs of blood clots. There are no injuries. There’s nothing to suggest he was poisoned with a substance that caused organ failure ... although I will certainly send blood in for a toxicology report. Right now, though, I have nothing.”

  Sully merely shook his head. “There has to be something.”

  “If there was, I would’ve already told you. No offense, but I don’t generally like hanging around with detectives. You guys are weird. It makes me nervous.”

  “You’re elbow deep in that man’s chest and I’m the weird one?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Sully rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s just great,” he said finally, rolling his neck until it cracked. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “What would you do if I told you he was poisoned?”

  “Start looking for someone who had access to his food and drinks.”

  “Maybe you should do that.”

  “You just said he wasn’t poisoned.”

  “I did. I can’t find anything wrong with him, so I’m leaning away from natural causes. Right now it’s going down as undetermined. I would guess that means you have to keep investigating.”

  Annoyance bubbled up, causing Sully to scowl. “Thanks so much for your help.”

  “Always happy to be of service for the fine members of the New Orleans Police Department.”

  OFELIA WAS FAMILIAR WITH HENRIETTA. You couldn’t grow up in the French Quarter and not recognize the name. Henrietta was one of those women who managed to wear her reputation like a fancy Kentucky Derby hat. She always drew attention to herself ... and not necessarily for the right reasons. That made her nervous when she received the tip to track down the cranky older woman.

  Henrietta had a colorful past. She was a seer, which meant she could read palms and tarot cards. She claimed to be a touch psychic, too, but Ofelia never believed her when she started talking about the horrible things she’d seen inside people’s heads. Ofelia didn’t doubt Henrietta could read cards and maybe even runes with the best of them. She was not, however, magical ... at least not in the same sense Ofelia was. The magic available at Henrietta’s fingertips was learned. Ofelia’s was all inherent.

  Ofelia had to make two stops at various magic stores to ask questions about Henrietta’s current location. She was behind on the gossip because she had no idea Henrietta had been fired from the Grand Laveau. On her second stop, she got a tip that piqued her interest enough to have her pointing herself toward Jackson Square.

  A lot of New Orleans natives avoided the touristy spots in the city like the plague. Instead of drinking on Bourbon Street, they headed down to Frenchman to take in some jazz and a few well-mixed drinks. Instead of eating at one of the kitschy restaurants in the Quarter, they headed to the Central Business District for something equally good but boasting a quieter ambiance. Instead of visiting Jackson Square, they headed up to City Park because it wasn’t generally jam-packed with shoppers and photograph hounds.

  Ofelia was not one of those people. She believed the touristy areas were just as magical as the quiet ones and she was a frequent visitor to Jackson Square. She loved the atmosphere, the music and artists strewn about in every direction. She was also a big fan of Cafe du Monde, although even she couldn’t bring herself to visit in the run-up to Mardi Gras ... or the month after, for that matter, because it was spring break season.

  At this time of year, though, the square wasn’t packed with tourists. Sure, there were people milling about and shopping, but the energy wasn’t quite as frenetic as it was known to get at different times of the year. Given what Ofelia had to do, she was glad for the break.

  She found Henrietta within five minutes. She was set up at a table facing away from the Mississippi. The chair across from her was empty and the older woman looked dejected. Reading the signs well, Ofelia flopped into the open chair and dropped a twenty on the table.

  Henrietta’s eyes widened when she realized who was sitting in front of her. “Oh, what do you want?” Even though she was in her late sixties, her black skin was smooth, to the point where Ofelia found herself marveling at the texture and color. Her hair was tucked under a vibrant turban, and she wore an ankle-length dress that was straight out of a movie.

  “Oh, that doesn’t sound like happiness to see me,” Ofelia chided, grinning. “You can do better than that.”

  Henrietta left the money where it landed. “I’m not snitching for you. I don’t care how bad things get. I’m not snitching.”

  Ofelia made a face. “Why would you assume I want you to snitch?”

  “Because you have your snitch face on.”

  “I don’t have a snitch face.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t you six weeks ago who stopped by the hotel to ask me what your brother was doing with that woman from New York? You paid me then, too. Your brother wasn’t happy I snitched on him. I made a promise, then and there, to never snitch again.”

  “That doesn’t count. My brother needs supervision at times. You did him a favor.”

  “I. Ain’t. Snitching.”

  Ofelia pursed her lips. “Who did you make this promise to?”

  “Myself.”

  “Then you’re not really hurting anyone if you go back on your word.” Ofelia dug for another twenty and enticingly dropped it next to the first bill. “I need some information.”

  “Oh, well, you need some information.” To buy herself time, Henrietta worked her jaw and stared at the money. She was in a bad spot — something Ofelia clearly recognized — and she couldn’t very well turn down forty dollars ... especially when the busy season was still weeks away.

  “Fine.” Henrietta grabbed the money and stuck it down her blouse, making sure to put it in a place Ofelia was unlikely to dig if she wanted to retrieve it. “Who are you spying on this time? If it’s your brother, I don’t have any information for you. I haven’t seen him in days ... although I hear he’s been driving one of the horse carriages. That ain’t no good living if you ask me.”

  “You’re sitting in front of a card table in the Square reading fortunes for scratch,” Ofelia reminded her. “I don’t think you should be casting aspersions on anyone else’s choice of vocation.”

  “Oh, you talk so fancy.” Henrietta rolled her eyes so hard Ofelia was surprised she didn’t fall over. “You make me feel stupid because you’re so smart. That was your intention, right?”

  “Actually, it wasn’t. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed information from you. And, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t need information about Felix.”

  Henrietta’s gaze was speculative. “This sounds serious,” she said finally. “I’m going to need something to drink if we’re going to talk about something serious.”

  “I just gave you forty bucks. You can buy something to drink with that.”

  “No, I need something good ... from over there.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of Cafe du Monde. You’re buying because you like me.”

  Ofelia thought about putting up a fight but recognized that it would take her longer to argue with Henrietta than doing as she asked. “Fine.” She threw up her hands and stood. “Let’s get you some coffee.”

  “You need to say it nicer than that.”

  Ofelia gritted her teeth to keep from spouting off. “Please, may I buy you a coffee at Cafe du Monde?”

  “And beignets.”

  “And beignets.”

&nb
sp; Henrietta’s grin was so wide — and smug — that it encompassed her entire face. “I think that sounds lovely.” She swooped to her feet, her skirt swishing as she stood, and then turned to the woman at the next table. “I’ll be back in twenty, Zelda. Make sure nobody steals my cards ... or table.”

  Zelda flashed her a thumbs-up but was clearly more interested in drinking from her flask.

  Ofelia and Henrietta fell in step together as they made the trip toward Cafe du Monde.

  “If this isn’t about your brother, what is it about?” Henrietta asked, her voice low.

  It was only then that Ofelia realized what the woman was really doing. She didn’t want to risk being seen delivering information in front of people who might recognize what was going down. This way, it simply looked as if they were two friends getting coffee ... unless witnesses knew either of them well, which seemed unlikely at this time of day.

  “I heard you got fired from the Grand Laveau.”

  “That’s hardly news ... and I was railroaded. I didn’t do what they accused me of. I would never. I have standards.”

  “I honestly don’t care about that,” Ofelia said. “I want to know if you’ve been plotting against the hotel, or the guests staying there. Before you deny it, remember I’ve heard all the stories ... some from my own mother. I know you have a vindictive streak a mile long and you’ve gone after former employers before.”

  “All of those instances were misunderstandings ... on their part. They never should’ve fired me. I’m a good worker and I have a great reputation. People come from all over to listen to Henrietta’s happenings because I’m the best there is.”

  In a city that boasted hundreds of people saying the same thing, that was quite the declaration. Ofelia didn’t believe it for a second. She also didn’t care. “I want the truth, Henrietta.” Her voice was low as they stopped to monitor the traffic on Decatur Street. “It would be just like you to drop hexes on the guests to cause trouble for management.”

  “I don’t think I like your tone.”

  “I’m not a big fan of it either,” Ofelia admitted. “I don’t have a choice, though. A body dropped in the alley by Krewe last night and the cops are sniffing around. The body smelled of a hex bag, and when I went to the hotel to search the dead guy’s room, I found this.” She whipped out the bag she’d confiscated from Brett’s room and held it up for inspection. “Does this look familiar?”

  Henrietta widened her eyes and then belted out a laugh. It was so loud it jolted one of the nearby carriage horses, causing him to drop a huge load.

  “Oh, nice.” Ofelia waved her hand in front of her face. “That was just ... uncalled for.”

  “Well, if you don’t want me to laugh, you shouldn’t say funny things. And that, my girl, is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.”

  “I don’t see why. It was a legitimate question. You know how to make hex bags and this one seems relatively powerful ... although I’m not entirely sure what it does.”

  Henrietta snagged the bag from Ofelia as they crossed the street, giving it a long look before handing it back. “That’s not mine. The detailing is poor on the corners, something I would never do, and I prefer purple thread because it anchors the hex better. That is red thread, which is a no-no.”

  Ofelia had a passing knowledge of hex bags, although she’d never made any herself. She’d forgotten that the color of the thread played into the spell. “What does red mean?”

  “Evil intent.”

  “All hex bags have evil intent.”

  “Yes, but some are more evil than others. There’s a bunch of people who prefer dishing out revenge in hex bags, but making the curses funny rather than dangerous. Remember when old Madge Puckney’s wig got stolen by that rabid squirrel? That was a funny hex. She was in no real danger.”

  Ofelia remembered the incident well. “Was that your work?”

  “Who can say?” Henrietta took on a far-off expression. “That was one for the record books, though.”

  “If that squirrel had bitten her, then your theory would go right out the window. She would’ve been in danger of losing her life.”

  “The squirrel didn’t bite her, though. It took her wig and ran. All she had to do was order another one ... and live through all the laughter.”

  Ofelia swished her lips but refrained from giving Henrietta further grief over the hex. That was old news and she was dealing with a new problem. “If you didn’t make the bag, who did? I mean ... who else would have it in for the Grand Laveau?”

  “How do you even know that’s the correct question to ask?” Henrietta challenged. “Maybe it had nothing to do with the hotel and everything to do with the man.” They got in line, which thankfully wasn’t too long today. “It seems to me that you came straight for me even though you have no proof I was involved. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  Ofelia had to admit it wasn’t fair at all. “I’m just trying to figure out what happened. The guy was young ... and I don’t like it when people bite it so close to my club.”

  “Yes, well, that’s something I can understand. I ... oh, well, will you look at this tall drink of water. Is he not the finest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  Momentarily confused, Ofelia slid her eyes in the direction Henrietta was staring and found her heart had skipped a beat. To her utter surprise, Detective Sully was heading in their direction ... and he didn’t look happy.

  “Oh, geez.” Ofelia rolled her neck and focused on the menu above them. “That’s the detective handling the murder case.”

  “Really?” Henrietta didn’t appear bothered by the news. “He’s handsome, isn’t he? What’s his story?”

  “He doesn’t know I lifted the hex bag. Keep that to yourself.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Henrietta offered up a dismissive wave for Ofelia and focused on Sully. “Let me guess.” She dramatically pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “You’re in law enforcement and you’re trying to right a wrong on a cosmic scale. Murder, right?”

  Sully arched an eyebrow, surprised at the greeting. “Um ... were you expecting me?”

  “Oh, I’m crushed. I don’t think you remember me.”

  “I know I would remember you if we’d been properly introduced before.” His gaze shifted to Ofelia. “Not that it’s any of my business, but what are you doing here?”

  Ofelia feigned surprise. “Hello, Detective Sully. I didn’t see you there. What am I doing here?” She pointed toward the menu. “They have the best coffee and beignets in town. I’m indulging in some sugar and caffeine.”

  “That is the New Orleans way,” Henrietta volunteered. “She’s buying some for me, too, because she has a heart the size of Wyoming.”

  Ofelia shot her a withering look. “Let’s not go overboard.” She flicked her eyes back to Sully. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was actually looking for Henrietta,” Sully replied, not missing a beat. “I was hoping to talk to her about her time at the Grand Laveau. I’m more curious how you managed to get here before me.” He thought about the faint scent of anise and cloves he detected in Brett’s room and grew suspicious. “I didn’t realize the two of you were so friendly.”

  “You didn’t meet me until this morning,” Ofelia reminded him. “Of course you don’t know who I’m tight with.”

  “Still, you showing up here feels fortuitous,” Sully noted. “I have a few more questions for you. And, of course, I have a few questions for Henrietta as well. I think we should all order coffee and beignets and have a discussion. How does that sound?”

  “Other than the coffee and beignets, it sounds hellish,” Henrietta answered. “Do I have a choice?”

  Sully was firm. “No.”

  “Then coffee, beignets, and chatter sound great.” Henrietta put as much fake enthusiasm as she could muster on display. “I love having deep discussions at Cafe du Monde. There’s nothing better.”

  Sully gave her a sidelong look and then shook his head. “Grea
t. How about you place the order, Henrietta, and Ms. Archer and I will find a table?”

  “I have a better idea,” Henrietta countered. “How about you place the order and I run to the bathroom. I ain’t no spring chicken anymore and I have a bladder the size of a grape. No joke. The doctor showed it to me on an X-ray the last time I was in. I can prove it to you.”

  Ofelia pursed her lips in amusement as Sully shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable.

  “That won’t be necessary,” he said finally. “We’ll place the order and you run to the bathroom. We’ll also find a table over there that can accommodate us with a little privacy.”

  “Great.” Henrietta shot him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Get me my usual, Ofelia. Make sure to get extra beignets, too. I’ve got a fierce hunger going on.”

  Ofelia rolled her eyes. “I’m on it.”

  Sully waited until Henrietta disappeared down the hallway that led to the bathrooms to speak again. “This really is a fantastic coincidence. I’m looking forward to hearing how this came about.”

  Ofelia managed to maintain a straight face, but just barely. “I’m looking forward to telling you how it came about.”

  “Great. I can’t wait.”

  Five

  Ofelia’s discomfort was hard to ignore and Sully found he enjoyed messing with her ... and looking at her. She was a beautiful woman, but her looks weren’t the only thing drawing him in. There was something else about her ... he just couldn’t put his finger on what.

  “How long have you known Henrietta?” he asked finally. The line at Cafe du Monde moved relatively fast, but they were still five groups deep.

  “I’ve known Henrietta since I was a kid,” Ofelia replied. “My mother used to take me to Jackson Square when I was a kid because she liked the ambiance. She fancies herself an artist. Henrietta used to work the tables back then.”

  “And now she’s back working the tables,” Sully noted as they moved up a spot in line. “I guess everything comes full circle, huh?”

  Ofelia shrugged. Sully’s sudden appearance had her flummoxed. Instinctively she knew he was looking to talk to Henrietta. The hotel manager mentioned her for a reason. Ofelia assumed that she would have time before Sully tracked down the older seer, though. She expected he would continue chasing his tail for a bit before coming to the conclusion that a discussion with Henrietta was a necessary evil. Something must have happened, she mused. But what?