Big Easy Murder (The Peyton Clark Series Book 3) (7 page)

“How many days passed between the argument you had with Adele about the property transaction and Adele’s murder?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Not that much time went by. Not at all. Perhaps a few days? A week at the very most.”

I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip. I realized the time had come for me to provide Peter with the answers he so desperately needed to know.

EIGHT

One Week Later

It was raining, which seemed pretty fitting.

As I stood in Greenwood Cemetery, centrally located at City Park Avenue and Canal Boulevard, I took some comfort in the sound of the plump raindrops as they landed on my umbrella. I was the only one here. The funeral service for Peter MacGregor occurred much earlier in the day. Now the sun was low in the sky, and in another thirty minutes or so, it would disappear altogether.

The old man’s death was not your fault, ma minette,
Drake said, his tone of voice in my head very somber.

I know,
I responded, but the truth of his words did nothing to make me feel any better.

Peter’s death was caused by a faulty heart that finally ceased. At least, that was according to the coroner’s report. I didn’t believe it, even though I pretended I did. I knew Peter’s heart broke in two because he couldn’t face the truth about the reason for Adele’s demise.

Not that I’d told him the whole truth …

I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell him everything. Instead, I’d said I believed Guarda had something to do with Adele’s murder. I explained that my visions had been cloudy so I couldn’t say for sure how much of a role she played. But as soon as I’d mentioned Guarda, Peter managed to solve the remainder of the puzzle for himself. I’d seen as much in the knowing expression on his face and the way he’d nodded as if he’d understood I didn’t have it within me to tell him the full truth.

Realizing the power Guarda possessed over him, it wasn’t much of a stretch for Peter to figure out she could have used her power to dispose of anyone standing between her and the property in Slidell; even Peter, himself.

I couldn’t stop replaying the last words Peter said to me before he left my house and I never saw him again.
Your heart is much too kind for this world, Ms. Peyton.

Mon chaton,
Drake started, no doubt suffering from the gravity of my guilt and gloominess.
You must not allow yourself to believe for one minute that you caused MacGregror’s death. You did not tell him anything! He figured it all out for himself!

Okay, but was that really any better than me just coming right out and telling him what happened? Either way, I’m the reason he learned the truth about Adele! The truth he obviously wasn’t prepared to handle!

Mon amour,
Drake continued while I riveted my eyes on the above-ground tomb that towered over me. The MacGregor family crypt had housed the MacGregor family for centuries, Adele included. And now Peter …

I’m okay, Drake,
I thought, even though I wasn’t.

Perhaps you are considering this from the wrong angle,
he continued. One thing I liked about Drake was how he always assumed the role of protector; and he played it very well.
Perhaps the old man finally came to terms with the past and decided he already fulfilled his purpose and was no longer needed here? Perhaps by ending the mystery of his wife’s passing, he could finally pass on, himself?

I guess that’s one way to look at it.

I believe it is the only way you should look at it, ma minette.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t convinced of the truth in Drake’s words.
All I can say is that I’m finished with this medium stuff,
I thought as my lips tightened on their own.
I don’t want to get involved in anyone’s business anymore. Sometimes, it’s better to let some mysteries just remain as such. Not all of them need to be solved.

Come now, ma minette, you know as well as I that you do not believe that! Whether you care to admit it or not, you helped that old man. He came to you with a problem and you provided him with an answer,
Drake insisted.

Maybe,
I started, loath to admit he could be right, even though I knew he was deep down.

Maybe!? Maybe nothing!
Drake sounded irritated.
This is your calling, mon chaton! You feel it, I know that you do. You like to help people and this is the best way you can help them!

What?! By telling husbands that they killed their own wives?
I spat the words back at him even though I knew it wasn’t fair of me.

Non,
he insisted.
You help people
by solving the mysteries that they, themselves, cannot solve,
he responded in a level tone.
You were blessed with a gift, ma minette, a gift that you should share. Use it wisely to help those who need it.

I sighed, long and hard. I couldn’t deny the truth in his words.
I’m just not ready to hear this yet, Drake,
I said after a few seconds.
I understand what you’re saying, but I just can’t handle it at the moment. Too much has happened and it’s still too fresh. The pain I feel is too much for me to deal with.

Very well, I understand,
he said. I suddenly felt like I could breathe a little more easily.

“Another one bites the dust, eh?”

I wheeled around at the sound of a woman’s voice. When I saw the young woman who stood smiling at me, I gasped.

“Guarda?” I said aloud without meaning to do so.

It is the voodoo witch!
Drake chirped from inside me, his tone of voice on high alert.

The woman laughed and shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Of course, I realized there was no plausible way this young woman, barely in her thirties, could really be Guarda. But she looked exactly like the Guarda I’d seen in my visions … I almost felt like I was hallucinating.

“This day be a long time comin’ for him,” she said, motioning to the tomb in front of us. I noticed she wasn’t carrying an umbrella and the rain was doing a fine job of soaking her entirely.

“Did you know Peter MacGregor?” I asked suspiciously. Taking in her tight, black tank top and the dark blue jeans that clung to her shapely lower body, I found her choice of clothing strange for a rainy day. What was even more strange was that she wasn’t wearing shoes …

“Ah know everyone in this town,” she answered without removing her gaze from the tomb. She looked at it longingly almost, staring with a mix of wistfulness and what appeared to be melancholy.

“Who are you?” I asked bluntly before shaking my head as I revised my question. “Er, what’s your name?”

“Ah’m everyone an’ Ah’m no one,” she answered with a strange laugh. Shaking her head, she pulled her attention away from the tomb. She glanced over and almost studied me for a few seconds, but nothing in her face revealed whether or not she liked what she saw. It almost seemed like she could see right through me.

Just like that, she started walking past me.

I wanted to say something to her, and demand she identify herself, or tell me why she looked so much like the Guarda of the past. I also wanted to ask why she seemed to know Peter, but words escaped me. It was all I could do just to stand there and watch her retreating across the grass threshold that separated the walking path from the graveyard itself. She began weaving in and out of the tombstones and vaults, dragging her hands over each one almost languorously.

“Wait!” I called out to her when I finally found my voice again.

She stopped walking. Resting her hands on two tombstones that flanked either side of her, she turned around to face me.

“You never told me what your name is, or how you knew Peter,” I started.

“None o’ that matters,” she answered as she shook her head. With that same knowing smile, she added, “We will meet again.”

Then she turned on her heels and continued to walk deeper into the graveyard. The sun set behind her, consuming everything in darkness.

If you missed the first two books in the Peyton Clark series, Ghouls Rush In and Once Haunted, Twice Shy, be sure to check them out on Amazon!

Stay tuned for the next book in the Peyton Clark series which will be coming soon!