Hacienda Moon (The Path Seekers) (8 page)

7

Eric parked his Jeep just outside the club and jumped out. Eyes glued to the scene ahead, he fought back the terror clouding his mind.
Virgil’s dead
Abby’s text had read. No fucking way! He refused to believe it. But the yellow tape strewn around the outside of the club shouted all the words he didn’t want to hear.

“Where’s Virgil?” he shouted at Detective Leroy Newman.

“You can’t see the body. I’m sorry, Eric,” Leroy said in a monotone voice, his accent bland. The three of them had never been good friends. Leroy lost two girlfriends to Virgil back when they were all in high school. Tonight he seemed almost happy to deliver the verdict that someone attacked and killed Eric’s friend.

Shoving past Leroy, Eric stalked over to the ambulance where the paramedics were loading a stretcher with a black bag sitting on top. Just one look was all Eric needed. Closure never came for him until he saw the person in a lifeless state, a self-serving confirmation he guessed. The same way he gazed at his father lying in the coffin during his wake.

“Hold on! Wait!” he demanded, startling the man lifting the gurney. Eric unzipped the bag and gagged at the sight before him.  Layers of blazing red flesh were exposed on his friend’s throat, as if someone or something peeled them back in pieces. Virgil’s mouth gaped open, his face frozen in an eternal ode to the pain he must have suffered. Memories of the way his mother screamed the night his father died surged inside his mind, and he felt like doing the same thing.

“All of this is happening because that witch moved back down here.” Abby stumbled over to Eric and collapsed in his arms. “She’s the reason all those old spirits are back in Bolivia.”

“Abby, what the hell? You shouldn’t be over here,” Eric snapped, moving her away from the ambulance and back toward Leroy.
 
“Your brother is dead, and the only thing you can think about is an old wives’ tale?”

“Don’t you be chastising me about what’s real, and trying to make me think I’m crazy. I saw her. She was standing right up on that there rooftop, watching for that boat again.”

“You’re delirious. What are you saying?” Eric demanded.

She started pounding on his chest. “Don’t you do that to me, Eric Fontalvo. You and your cursed family should have just stayed away.”

“Calm down, Abby,” he said, restraining her arms. “Stop acting like this and get it together.”

At once she collapsed in his arms, her body pressing into his, sobs jerking through her. Leroy motioned toward a couple of paramedics who came over and coaxed Abby away from Eric. The syringe the female paramedic held would soothe her nerves for a while, but nothing like that would work for him.

“The psychic will need to stay in town,” Leroy said to Eric. Just what had Abby told him about Ms. Harrison?

“What? Come on, Leroy. Don’t tell me you bought tickets for the witchcraft train too,” Eric tried to laugh.

“No, I’m saying that strange things have happened since she moved into that house two weeks ago. But in this case a witness placed her at the scene of your friend’s death.”

Eric’s blood pressure shot up. “That’s a fucking lie! What witness? I just left her house.”

“This was earlier in the evening when Abby spotted her.” The detective glanced over at Abby.

Eric scoffed, but he had to consider the detective’s words.

“She wasn’t the only one who saw the woman. Virgil’s old lady, Shania, also said she saw our fortune teller walking along the beach.”

Abby was jealous, her motives transparent; but Shania’s observation threw him. “I’m sorry, Eric. I’ve always respected you and your family. Hell, our mothers crocheted together before your father moved you all away. I’m just stating the facts. People are uneasy. This time of year always brings out the freaks. But some of those fears are valid.”

“Right, but Ms. Harrison isn’t a freak. She’s a grieving mother, somebody that’s trying to put her life back together. I can understand that. You want to pick on her for being human or because she’s different?” Eric demanded, his body trembling and nausea inching up his throat.

“Chill, Eric.” Leroy moved closer to him. He always managed to stay remarkably controlled. Eric had never been that way. He supposed if he would’ve been then maybe he’d still be engaged.

“Didn’t you see your friend’s body? His throat is ripped out. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. I can bet your pretty waitress’s ass over there that the coroner will come back and say there’s not an animal around here that makes blunt cuts that way.”

Eric’s heart sped up. “What are you saying?”

“Those marks were made by human teeth.”

“You’re trying to tell me we’ve got a man running around who thinks he’s an animal?” Eric asked incredulously.

“It could also be a woman,” Leroy said, his gaze locked on Eric’s face.

Eric threw his hands up. “I know what to do. Even better, I’ll help you figure out your next move. Find the son of a bitch that killed my best friend, and leave Ms. Harrison alone.”

Leroy’s dark eyes lit up. “Go tell that to your buddy’s sister. You two are close. Explain to her how you want me to start axing suspects just because you’re sweet on one of them.”

Eric glanced back at Abby sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, her legs pulled up to her chest as she rocked back and forth. She looked so fragile and innocent, reminding him of the way she was during their high school years. It was a time when he and Virgil got together after studying to discuss lacrosse, volleyball, and of course, the school’s hottest girls. Eric was never good with math or science. His strongest subject was English just like his ancestors before him. Learning how to use a snap ruler to measure a tile became a task he worked hard to conquer. If it weren’t for Virgil, then he’d probably be flipping burgers instead of running his own business.

But then, his father moved the family away, his solution to running from that damn curse. “You’re not going to win,” he said under his breath.

“What’s that?” Leroy asked.

“Nothing,” Eric muttered and headed over to check on Abby.

* * *

Vigorous taps beat inside Tandie’s mind. She’d hardly had any sleep last night and now that idiot contractor was out there again, disturbing the rest of her morning. The day after the storm brought a sun bright enough to light the entire house.

Slipping into her bedroom shoes, she grabbed her robe and headed toward the hallway. Head pounding, she trudged to the front door and ripped it open.

“Didn’t I tell you I don’t need any damn services!” she spat, regretting her words right away.

Saul Chelby stood outside the front door, his gold hair gleaming in the morning sun. He glanced over Tandie’s bed clothes and averted his eyes at once.

Hmph. True gentlemen do really exist in this day and age.
She’d almost given up hope.
 

Tandie stepped behind the door, hiding her body. “Mr. Chelby. I mean, Saul. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“I only stopped by for a moment,” Saul said, his gaze slowly rising away from the porch, a boyish smile spreading over his full lips.

“Oh?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right. That was quite a storm we had last night.”

“Yes. I--I’m fine, thanks.”

He shuffled his feet, stuffed his hands into his pocket, and hesitated before speaking. “I wanted to warn you. Someone was killed last night.
Virgil was an idiot at times, but it’s messed up how he died.” Saul shook his head then continued, “The Aeneid’s regulars are all shook up about this one.”

Saul mentioning the Aeneid caught Tandie’s attention. Forgetting about her bathrobe, she stepped out on to the porch. “Did you say the Aeneid?”

“I did.” He didn’t avert his eyes this time. Instead, he moved his handsome, but boyish gaze over Tandie’s robe. Frieda told her that he was a player hidden behind southern charm, a man known to be a swinger in kinky sex circles. Tandie found it hard to believe the humble person standing before her could be anything other than a businessman who worked too much; a powerful man targeted by the local gossip mill because of his last name. That was until he glanced at her as if she were a new dessert on a forbidden menu.

As if he heard her thoughts, he slowly lowered his eyes.

“That’s weird. I dreamed that I was standing outside the Aeneid last night.” Tandie recalled the experience that was as clear as if she were experiencing it in person.

Saul moved closer to her, leaned in and said, “With all due respect, Ms. Harrison, I don’t think I’d make an awful lot of fuss about having a dream like that. Somebody might get the wrong idea.”

And he was right. She already had people accusing her of being a witch, even going so far as to confront her without saying a word in introduction. Even New Yorkers weren’t that bold.

“I do appreciate you taking the time to stop by Mr. Che--Saul.”

He beamed a grin that lit up his face so that his entire aura seemed to radiate sunshine. With his thin top lip, pouty bottom one, and a smile that swam in his bright blue eyes, it wasn’t hard for Tandie to see exactly what Freida meant. A person like Saul probably won business deals and the hearts that gave in to his conquests on a regular basis.

“Where are my manners?” I should invite you in. I mean, this is still your house,” Tandie said, feeling exposed under his iron-tight gaze.

“Actually, I wanted to ask how things were going for you two,” Saul said. Tandie made a light laugh.

“What is it? What’s funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. It’s just the way you talk about the house. I feel like I should be telling you about a new relationship rather than talking about repair issues,” Tandie said. “I guess you could say it’s coming along, but very wet in the process.”

“Well, getting a little wet every now and then can be interesting, with all due respect, Ms. Harrison.” The most devilish-sexy grin she’d ever seen played across his lips, making her face flush. This time, Tandie lowered her eyes. “I do apologize for embarrassing you.”

Is there no shame in this man’s game?
“I’m not embarrassed,” Tandie lied, working hard to refocus her thoughts. “I take it you got my messages about the leaking faucets?”

Sighing, he looked disappointed. “I did. The contractor finally accepted my offer. He’ll start in a few days. I apologize for taking so long to get back to you.”

“You apologize a lot,” Tandie said.

“That’s because I’m a southern gentlemen. My kind is rare.” He bowed his head a bit.

“Okay. Feel free to be even more humble if you like,” Tandie said. “Besides, my grandmother always told me that actions speak louder than words.”

“Why, Ms. Harrison--”

“Call me Tandie. Ms. Harrison was an old woman somewhere who wasn’t even related to me by blood.” They both shared a laugh at her reference to the joke he made the day they first met.

“All right, Tandie. Allow me to demonstrate your philosophy. I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the Governor’s Dinner this Saturday.”

Tandie’s smile faded, a surge of dread rushing through her. “I’m not sure--I don’t know about a date. Going out with the rent man is like bagging the boss. Is it not?”