GODDESS OF THE MOON (A Diana Racine Psychic Suspense) (15 page)

“Boyfriends?”
Diana asked.

“Not that I found. Compton
owns
houses all over the world, and they’re like fortresses. State of the art security systems keep out trespassers. Compton International
maintains
a fleet of private jets, so he never avails himself of public transportation.”

“So no one sees the wife or knows anything about offspring?”

“Selene Compton
does a lot of charity work. She
ventures out occasionally, mostly to
a play
or an art exhibit, an occasional shopping spree in Europe, but she’s
not
the social butterfly she was before she married. I dug up
a
recent picture of her at the symphony, alone, by the way. It’s pretty grainy, but she’s still a knockout.”

Diana was always amazed at how much information Jason unearth
ed
. Whatever floated around in cyberspace or in someone else’s computer, Jason would find a way to access it. If he couldn’t get the information, no one could.

“Good job, Jason.
Now
Slater?”
He was the one she was really interesting in.

“You were right. Those ten years were tough to research. Shortly after dropping out of divinity school, he stacked up major medical bills. I hacked into the hospital accounts, but his
personal
records
are
probably on microf
iche
in the hospital’s archives.
Even though h
e was still insured by his parents
because he was in college at the time, t
he bills were astronomical. I hacked into the insurance company but
like the hospital,
records
that old aren’t accessible.
”

Diana
knew what cost so much, and she couldn’t ignore what it must have been like for Slater to go through that.

Jason went on.

“I found half a dozen arrests,
drunk
tank stuff, nothing violent.
Also
a drug possession charge.
They held him for a few days and Mr. Anonymous bailed him out.”

“No name?”

“Uh-uh. Nothing after that until he started the Sunrise Mission eight years ago using the name Brother Osiris with money from, guess who?”

“Silas Compton
.
”

“
Bingo, a
mong others. How’d you know that? Don’t tell me you’ve got a psychic thing going with him.”

“No. Slater told me yesterday. Besides, that’s public record.”

“They get backing from the state, but most money is raised through donations.”

“Did you find out anything unusual about Slater? Love interests,
friends
?”

“Nothing.
The guy’s a monk.
Good-looking monk from the picture on his driver’s license.
His mug shot, not so good. Looks wasted.” Jason detailed Jeannine Highsmith’s lawsuit against the mission, and Diana told him what Lucier had found out.
“Plenty of recent articles in the paper, all praising his work.
Th
e
Brother Osiris moniker is a bit pretentious, but, hey, whatever works.

“Okay, Diana, what’s the story? You wouldn’t be checking into this if something damn interesting wasn’t going on.
Wanna
fill me in?”

“Not yet, because I have no idea what
all
this
means. When I know, I’ll
get back to you
.
F
air enough?”

“Sounds good.
Now my interest is piqued.”

“
Thanks for the info. Send me a bill. I emailed you my address, didn’t I?”

“No charge.
My pleasure.
Besides, I don’t think I got anything you couldn’t have gotten yourself.”

“I doubt that.
Besides
, you do it
fast and
thoroughly. Send me the bill, Jason. I mean it. I may need you again, and I don’t want to feel like I can’t call on you because you won’t charge me.”

“Okay, if you insist. I’ll fax you everything I found on Compton, credit card charges, etc.
Those things go
to his accountant.” Jason laughed. “His computer was tough but not impenetrable, except I couldn’t access Compton’s tax records.
His accountant
must remove them from his electronic database. Most everything else is tangled in that big
shell game I mentioned.
”

“What about Slater’s money?”

“
The man
doesn’t even
own
a credit card. The Mission does, but not Slater.
Most of the charges are
for supplies, food, like that. He draws an
annual salary of eight thousand dollars
, and doesn’t spend
much
of it. He rents a room in a boarding house, eats at the mission, and I suppose spends money for clothes. Looks lik
e the way he lives, he must have some money in an account
, but I couldn’t
find
it
.”

“Thanks, Jason. You know I love you.”

“Yeah, like a friend. I know.”

Diana tapped her phone shut. Why would someone like Silas Compton fund
the Sunrise M
ission?
What
was in it for him, and what
the hell did it mean?

The Invitation

L
ucier picked up the phone in his office.

“Lieutenant Lucier, Ralph Stallings here
.
Thought you’d be interested in one other set of prints we found at 107 Parkside besides Compton’s.”

“You bet.”

“Another big Louisiana name: Fernando Reyes.”

Lucier’s head went into a spin.
“Another multi-millionaire.
What’s going on here?”

“Haven’t a clue. What do you make of it?”

“Has he ever been connected to a fringe religious group or cult?”

“Not that we can find. When we asked both men what their prints were doing in that house, Compton divulged that he and Reyes were the owners, saving us a lot of trouble unraveling the mess of paperwork. He said they went to look
the place over
before they bought it.
Their
plans fell through, so they
hired an agency to
rent it out. Only knew of Deems by name. Never met him, they said.”

“How could Deems afford a house like that on a janitor’s salary?” Lucier asked. “And if he rented
it
, why was he trading off a bed at the mission for work? It doesn’t make sense.”

“The guy offed himself before anyone had a chance to ask.”

“Damn. I suppose Reyes didn’t know anything about the drawings on the wall.”

“Right you are. Compton received no complaints from the agency. The renter paid on time, and that’s all he cared about.”

“Sorry, but that doesn’t ring true.
S
atanic meetings went on there, and Compton knows about them. Deems didn’t have friends with
the
expensive cars
parked at the house during what he called their
card games
.”

“Why would a guy like Compton be involved in the black arts and kidnapping babies? If he is, we’d sure like to know. He’s a major thorn in the side of government. My bosses in Washington
are
salivat
ing
to get something on him.
I don’t suppose Ms. Racine would go with you while you interviewed Compton, would she? I know she stopped helping law enforcement long before
that serial killer
debacle, but maybe if she met him, she might tune into things we can’t. We
can’t use anything she comes up with, but it might give us an edge.
”

“I don’t know. I’ve been worried ever since she got that note.
Diana, we await you.
Someone wants her involved in this investigation, and they’re doing everything to draw her into it. They must know
she has the curiosity of the proverbial cat
.” Lucier
knew, though.
Diana was nothing if not predictable. “Besides, you guys have already interviewed Compton. Why would he agree to one with a New Orleans cop?”

“Two words.
Diana Racine. The man’s got a hard on for famous people. I guarantee he’ll want to meet her.”

“Hmm.
I’ll ask her, but I already know the answer.
Any idea how to incorporate her into the meeting?”

“Compton doesn’t forget anything. Just say your name clearly. He’ll know you were the cop who saved Ms. Racine’s life, and sorry, Lieutenant, but everyone in town knows you two have a thing going. He’ll ask you to bring her along.”

Everyone in town?
Had they been that obvious?
“You play the ponies?”

“How’d you know?”

“Sounds like you’re a betting man.”

Stallings laughed.

“Any luck tracking those two women?” Lucier asked.

“Not a whisper. One of our agents checked back at the Sunrise Mission, but no one there has seen either one of them. Slater was upset that the girl Brigid hadn’t shown up. ’Course it’d help if we knew her real name. The one on her employment record is a phony
, at least the last name is
. Those places expect a number of false names from people who don’t want to be found. She stayed there for room and board. He paid her a small amount for her services out of a miscellaneous fund. I hope those girls don’t wind up like Deems.”

“Me too.”
He remembered Deems gasping for breath, the pungent almond odor sharp in his nose. “What about other properties Compton owns under the dummy corporation?”

“Try conglomerates. We’ve got our Corporate Crimes Division untangling them, but his people are good. We’re still trying. That man has his fingers into more pies than Sara Lee, with lawyers and bankers in his pocket to protect his interests. He’s made a lot of people rich, and you can bet your pension no one’s talking.

* * * * *

L
ucier was relieved to see that Diana had either forgotten his sharp exit the other night or she chose not to bring it up. She
curled up
next to him
on the sofa
, coffee cup in
hand,
legs tucked beneath her, and listened to what
he
learned earlier in the d
ay. She looked like a teenager.

“Silas Compton, huh?”

“Stallings said when I make the appointment he’s bound to connect me with you
. Hell, the story was in the news for days
. Did you know that people around town think the two of us are an item?”

She ti
lted her head, flaunting a half
smile.
“We are.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know
we were
common knowledge.”

“Does that bother you?”

Lucier noted the edge in Diana’s voice.
Better tread lightly
. “Not really, but you’ve been in the public eye since you were a child; I’m not used to being
common knowledge.
Makes me feel like something I’m not.”

“You had to know this would happen.”

“Guess I didn’t think
that far
.” She smiled, and his heart rate ticked up. “I’ll get used to it.”

She jabbed a playful finger in his arm. “You better, buster,
cuz
I’m here to stay.”

He leaned over and kissed her. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“
Good.
Got
that straight
.
Now,
what else did Stallings say?”

“That Compton’s like Francine
Marigny
―obsessed with famous people. If my name doesn’t ring bells, Stallings said I should say something about you finding the house from the key in Deems’s pocket. He’ll want me to bring you along.” Lucier
drained
his coffee and put the empty cup on the cocktail table. “That’s if you want to go.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Predictable as the sunrise
.
“That note you received would have spooked nearly everyone else off this case.
Everyone but you.
Anyone following the h
unt for
a vicious killer
knew
that.”

* * * * *