Ghost Walking (A Maggie York Paranormal Mystery Book 1) (26 page)

Well, yeah, something like that. She shrugged but still hesitated. Dalia treated witchcraft as a normal part of life. She wouldn’t have any qualms about discussing it around Josh. Was he really ready for that?

“Quit thinking up excuses to put me off,” he said. “After my family and its problems, yours will be a welcome distraction.”

“OK, but remember I tried to spare you.”

He chuckled then. “You’re absolved from all responsibility.”

Dalia met them at the door in a lavender cotton blouse and black slacks. Her hair had curled into neat gray waves, but her eyes were dark with anxiety. She grabbed Maggie’s hand and drew her inside, ignoring Brandt, an unthinkable social miscue for Dalia’s generation.

“I’ve been worried sick.”

“Dalia, this is Detective Josh Brandt. A friend. Tell us what’s wrong.”

“Oh, my goodness.” The older woman covered her breast with one hand and looked at Josh as if seeing him for the first time. “Detective, I’m so sorry. Please come in. I didn’t intend to be rude. I’ve been so distracted. Actually, I’m relieved you’re here.”

“Josh,” he corrected with a smile. “I’m only Detective Brandt on duty. But perhaps we should dispense with the formalities while you tell us what’s troubling you.”

Apparently encouraged by his manner, Dalia turned to Maggie. “You’re in terrible danger, my dear.”

Oh, God. Maggie refrained from rolling her eyes. This was going to be something from the Beyond. Josh would be getting a taste of something even weirder than usual.

“Shall we sit down?” Maggie suggested. “I know my way around your kitchen. Let me fix you a cup of tea.”

“No, dear, we have to go now. Selena had trouble getting through to me, and she was nearly beside herself when she finally succeeded. She insisted I bring you to her with all haste.”

Maggie’s heart sank. This was going to be worse than she’d imagined. Selena didn’t have a phone, and it was doubtful she’d borrowed one with cell coverage so spotty in the bayou. So this message hadn’t come through normal channels. She threw an apologetic look at Josh. “I’d better go. Dalia has a car we can drive…”

“So do I, but we’ll take the truck. In case the mysterious Tahoe shows up again.” He held out a hand to Dalia. “I’ll make a quick stop to switch vehicles, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Yes.” The word gushed from Dalia on a breath of relief. “Selena is waiting.”

Maggie swallowed a protest. Josh and Dalia were already headed out the door.

Josh’s truck was a shiny, black monster with an extended cab. Maggie itched to get behind the wheel, but this wasn’t the time, and she spent most of the trip wondering what Selena was about to spring on them. With Dalia in the front seat next to Josh, there was no way Maggie could privately prepare him for meeting her swamp-loving relative, so she didn’t try.

When they parked behind the isolated shack, Dalia tapped once on Selena’s door, then entered without waiting for permission. Following behind her, Maggie stopped and stared. Any description she might have given Josh wouldn’t have done Selena justice.

The eclectic but cozy interior Maggie had visited before was draped in white—walls, ceiling, the single window, and floor, covered in a white, gauzy material. Hundreds of white candles burned, the air heavy with a musky incense. The music from a single lute played from somewhere, an ethereal sound, soft, moody. Selena knelt in the center of the floor, her large figure robed in shimmering white silk. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be in a trance.

“Selena?” Maggie said uncertainly.

“Shh, give her a moment,” Dalia whispered.

Josh’s fingers curled around Maggie’s hand and gave a firm squeeze. She locked her fingers with his, and they stood quietly for long moments until Selena’s eyes suddenly popped open.

The mystic stared wide-eyed into the distance, apparently not seeing them, then suddenly shuddered and focused on Maggie. Recognition flashed across her face.

“Thank the goddess you’re here. I’ve been praying for hours to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” Maggie started to kneel beside her, but Selena pushed upward with one hand and lurched to her feet. She teetered and might have fallen if Josh hadn’t caught her arm and helped her to the rattan rocking chair. Selena sat with a whoosh.

“Thank you. These old knees aren’t what they used to be. Not after kneeling that long.” Selena smiled up at Josh. “You must be Detective Brandt.”

“That’s right. But it’s Josh.”

Dalia handed Selena a bottle of water from the fridge and hovered while the exhausted woman took a long drink, emptying half the container, and handed it back.

Maggie dropped Josh’s hand and stepped forward to touch Selena’s shoulder. “What makes you think I’m in danger?”

“Ophelia told me. Early this morning. I’ve been praying for your protection since then.”

Maggie swiveled her head to look at Dalia, her voice flat. “Dead Ophelia?”

Dalia gave her a what-can-I-say look. “I told you she hears voices.”

“Yes, but you didn’t mention that they tell her about the future.”

“Oh, not really the future,” Selena said, sitting up straight. “At least not the distant future. The present. Bits and pieces of the near present. Someone you know and trust wants to harm you, is actively plotting against you as we speak.”

Maggie stared at her. A chill flitted across her back. Was this why she’d felt so…well, spooky all morning? Did that mean she’d sensed Ophelia’s… She shook her head. No, it didn’t mean anything, and this was just the same mystical stuff dished out by carnival vendors. She couldn’t believe they’d driven all the way to the bayou to hear the vague portents of terrible danger and great evil without substance. Where were the facts she could relate to—the when, where, how or most importantly, who. “I don’t suppose Ophelia gave you a name.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Dalia said gently. “Those who’ve crossed the veil cannot speak the names of the living, even to one like Selena.”

“So tell me how it does work. A warning isn’t much good without specifics.”

Josh put a hand on her back, its warmth penetrating through her shirt. “Why don’t we let Selena tell this in her own way?”

He sounded so at ease, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation. It wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination. But Dalia and Selena were genuinely upset, and she needed to calm their fears before she could leave.

“You’re right.” She flashed him a grateful smile before focusing on Selena. “I’m sorry if I sounded impatient. Can you start when Ophelia first appeared?”

“I didn’t see her. Her voice woke me just before dawn.” While Selena talked, Josh found chairs from somewhere, and they sat in the small room listening to Selena retell her visit from the Beyond. “Once Ophelia had my attention, I drifted into a vision of two shadowy men, one portrayed as huge as if he held much power over the smaller image, the one who does his bidding. They were whispering, conspiring. I felt a great sense of evil. In the background, I clearly saw Maggie and one, perhaps two, other men. Then the vision switched briefly to a crime scene with police and yellow tape.” Selena sighed. “The vision faded, but Ophelia wasn’t done.”

“Before you go on, can you describe these people?” Maggie asked.

Selena frowned. “Of course not. My visions are painted by Ophelia’s voice, but I can’t form a detailed image of something or someone I haven’t seen. Yours was the only clear image.”

“So why the vision? Couldn’t she have just told you?”

Selena nodded. “Ophelia wanted me to feel their evil so I could convey it to you.” The woman held out a hand toward Maggie. “These men are determined to kill you.”

Maggie’s mouth went dry. She’d known that, but the way Selena said it…sounded so real.

“You must not despair,” Selena went on quickly. “Your fate is not decided…only if you do nothing. But be cautious, listen to your instincts. Your actions will place another in danger, and you’ll need help if you hope to avoid another tragedy.”

It had to be Josh. “Who’s in danger? What happens to him?”

Selena shrugged. “Even Ophelia cannot tell you that. The future is always in flux until it happens.”

Maggie frowned. That wasn’t helpful. “Did she say why this is happening? What have I done?”

“Something in your past. Not what you’ve done. Perhaps what you’ve seen.”

Josh stiffened, and Maggie glanced at his tense profile. It’s what he’d been saying all along. She leaned forward. If Ophelia could fill in this piece… “What is it? What could be that important?”

Selena shook her head. “Ophelia didn’t know. Her voice started to drift away as if her visit was over, then she returned to mention a figure in a gold and black hood. She said you’d know who it was. His killer is now stalking you.” Selena lifted her massive shoulders. “That’s everything she said.”

Maggie sucked in her breath. Had she ever mentioned the hoodie to Dalia or Selena? Was Selena’s…vision, nightmare, conversation…an unconscious result of things she’d been told?

But a nagging voice reminded her Hurst was real. Why not Ophelia?

She stood and impulsively hugged the large woman. “Thank you for caring about me. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but please don’t worry anymore. Josh and I will handle this. I promise. And, uh, tell Ophelia, I said thanks. If she could find out what it is I’m supposed to know…well, keep in touch.”

The drive back to New Orleans was relatively quiet. They let Dalia off in her driveway and watched until she’d safely entered the house. It wasn’t until they were halfway to Maggie’s apartment that Josh asked, “Why did you change the meeting with Toby this morning?”

“What?” That was about the last question she’d expected. “I don’t know. A funny feeling, I guess.”

“Like somebody was warning you to be extra cautious?”

She swung her head to look at him. He was concentrating on traffic, but his profile didn’t give her a clue to his thoughts. “You think it was Selena…or Ophelia?”

His tone was level. “Why not? It’s becoming clearer all the time anything is possible. We should heed the warning, take extra precautions now instead of waiting until our plan is fully formed. After all, this is exactly what we’ve expected. Let’s move you to my place tonight. There’s no reason to make it easy to be found. And we’re not telling anyone, not after Selena said it’s someone you know and trust. Since I know it isn’t me, I’m reluctant to let anyone else around you.”

Maggie sighed and slumped back in the seat. “I don’t think you can put me in isolation, but yeah, OK. I
did
feel something unusual this morning. And who am I to remain so skeptical? I have Hurst to prove me wrong.”

* * *

When Brandt returned to District 13 on Tuesday morning, the department hummed as it settled into the ninth day of searching for a cop killer. The detectives manned the phones, talking with informants and checking out leads from the tip line, or they were pounding the pavement looking for potential witnesses. Several of Castile’s known associates were brought in for questioning but were released when lawyers arrived or bail was posted by their boss.

Instead of moving on to regular business, the precinct’s tension and frustration grew every day. Any hope the man Brandt had shot was Wernier’s sniper deteriorated when a search of the intruder’s apartment failed to turn up a rifle or rifle ammo, and they couldn’t find links between the two men or to Wernier’s prior cases. The two handguns recovered weren’t in the system. A petty thug, likely to be on Castile’s payroll, but another dead end.

Of particular annoyance to Brandt was the gossip in the break room. News of the lab investigation had leaked throughout the building. Any chance of catching the culprit by surprise had vanished.

But the news wasn’t all bad. Internal Affairs stopped by Brandt’s desk to return his pistol. His shooting of the intruder was ruled as justified. He hadn’t been worried—although dealings with IA were never comfortable, but it was nice to have his Beretta back where it belonged.

Mid-morning, Toby Sloane stopped by and dropped a paper on his desk. “I copied this from my partner’s file on the lab leak. Check out the phone number hallway down the page. Although Shank’s phone is still missing, his provider gave us a list of recent calls, and that number is the last one he called.” Sloane tapped his finger on the page. “It traces to an inactive burner. Not much to go on, but finding it in that file suggests our hunch was right. He was hunting Castile’s mole that morning.”

Brandt sighed. “This discovery is how the word on the lab investigation got out. I wondered.”

“Yeah, the commander’s got detectives down in the lab now, questioning everyone.”

“So much for keeping it low-key.”

Sloane shrugged. “Maybe they’ll learn something. I can’t see any of our techs as a professional hit man, but we might get Castile for tampering with evidence.”

After Sloane left, Brandt read over Wernier’s page of notes. Most of it focused on a case with missing footprint evidence and included a list of potential witnesses and their phone numbers. Two names had been scratched out, including the one next to the relevant phone number. Could mean Wernier was through with them, but since he’d retained the phone number, it was more likely he’d decided to keep the one confidential.

Brandt peered closely at the redacted name—even used a magnifier—but couldn’t come up with more than a possible final s. He called Sloane.

“Where’s the original page? We might be able to recover a name to go with the phone number.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. His entire file’s a photocopy. We’ve tried to lift the name without any success.”

“Was he in the habit of keeping files at home?”

“Nope. And his wife already looked.”

Brandt tapped his finger on the page. “So when was the substitution made? Did Wernier hide the original? Or did someone take it? And why leave a copy?”

“All good questions. If you come up with any answers, I’d love to hear them. We’ve reported the irregularity, in case it’s linked to the lab problem.”