Hoodoo Woman (Roxie Mathis Book 3) (7 page)

The house smelled pleasantly of sage. I packed away my supplies, satisfied at the work I’d done. The ghost of Britney Parker, or any other ghost for that matter, would not find Ray’s home agreeable to their presence. It wasn’t exactly a ward but close enough to it.

I found him in the kitchen, spooning food out of a crock pot.  I said, “You sure that Wiccan lady can’t do stuff like this?”

“I’m sure she can wave sage around with the best of ‘em but there’d be nothing behind it. She practices a religion, not magic.”

It impressed me that he knew the difference. There was a time when he didn’t. “It’s your home, so you have a certain power within its boundaries. I’ll leave you the sage and the spell to recite as you wave it around.”

He stopped halfway to the table, bowls in each hand. “What, you think this won’t take?”

“Stuff like this has to be redone periodically. You don’t clean your house just once.”

Placing the bowls on the table, he retrieved silverware and two glasses of sweet tea. Bringing them to the table, he set everything down and rubbed his hands down his thighs. “That Haschall business makes me nervous. Last thing I need is that thing getting loose.”

“He won’t. I’ll go out there and give the old wards a boost.” The idea made my blood cold but Ray was right, it needed doing.

He pulled a chair out for me and said, “Hope you still like beef stew.”

“Smells delicious.” I sat. “You’re pretty good at this bachelor stuff. How come you never got married?”

He froze for a second halfway to his chair. “I almost did once.”

That bothered me more than it should have. “What happened?”

“Didn’t work out,” mumbled the grumpy teddy bear. He furrowed his brow, tapping the table near his fork. “You mind if I say grace?”

“Of course not.” I reached for his hand.

He took it, fingers dwarfing mine. Bowing his head, he said, “Thank you, Lord, for this food and fellowship. Watch over Roxanne as she guides one of your children home. And please help me to do the right thing.” He paused as if he wanted to add more. “Amen.”

“Amen.” I hadn’t done that in a long time and it was longer still that it meant as much to me.

As we ate he asked questions about my life in Nashville. Mostly about my work. He steered clear of questions about my love life. I told him some of my favorite ghost eviction stories and he told me of some of his favorite arrests. We had each other laughing in no time. The laughter was nearly as cathartic as the earlier tears. Eventually, though, we had to get down to the matter at hand.

Back in the office in front of the white board, Ray handed me a file. “That’s all there is on her death. A transcript of the 911 call from the person who found her. My initial report. The coroner’s report, not that there’s much to that. The investigation was over before it could even get started.”

I flipped through the pages, not yet reading carefully but getting an idea of the shape of things. “Are you supposed to have this?”

He cleared his throat. “I made copies.”

“Deputy Travis.” I couldn’t keep the tease out of my voice.

“Her ghost was in my kitchen! Just get to reading and tell me what you think.”

“Still bossy as ever.” I flipped back to the first page.

“As I recall there were times when you liked that.”

I lowered the pages and stuck out my index finger. “You said no flirting!”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, turning away to give me a chance to read. But not before I saw the mischief in his eyes.

The transcript of the 911 call was hard enough to read, it made me glad Ray didn’t have a copy of the audio. Britney was found by an early morning jogger, a woman who lived on the road behind the marina, an area full of big houses and lots of money. She knew Britney, or recognized her at least as she was old enough to be the dead girl’s mother. She kept repeating
my daughter knows her, my daughter knows her
, after identifying Britney to the operator. Britney had been dead for several hours by then.

Ray’s report was careful, meticulous, thorough. And the epitome of professionalism, as I would expect from him. The things driving him to make unauthorized copies of this file and bring in a witch to help the dead girl’s ghost find justice were not in evidence. That I would have to get from him personally, though he’d already shared some of it.

The coroner’s report was equally professional and unpleasant. That this beautiful, seemingly vibrant young woman could be reduced to the weight of her organs and the amount of alcohol in her system was a cold slap in the face. There had been little residue of the ghost’s presence when I went through Ray’s house with the sage and protective blessing. The cheesiness of the website put up by her friends had been enough to keep the reality of the situation at bay. The coroner’s report allowed no such luxury.

I closed the file. “Other than the visitation of her ghost, is there anything else that makes you think she was murdered?”

Ray swiveled his chair around. “Amber Donahue was the only one of her friends willing to say much beyond the usual. She told me Britney had quit drinking, quit smoking pot. She’d been completely clean for over a month.”

“She could have fallen off the wagon.”

“That’s what I said to Amber but she didn’t think so. I asked why and she clammed up.”

“Who was Britney dating at the time?”

“Her last public boyfriend was a fella named Brian Sutcliff.”

“Sutcliff? Wasn’t that the Parker family attorney’s name?” And probably the most powerful lawyer in town, of course.

“Yeah, Roger Sutcliff. Brian is his youngest son. He’s away at law school, totally alibi’ed out. They had an on again, off again thing. Long distance too, he’s been going to law school in Mississippi.”

“What about her last private boyfriend?”

He reclined the chair, tapping his fingers on the arm rest. “No one would give me a name. My guess is older and married. That’s what she was rumored to like.”

“I get the older but why married?”

“No commitment, I guess. Not one with any teeth to it, anyway. Oh, and another rumor is Brian’s gay and they were just friends. Covering for each other so their parents would stay off their backs. But again, I couldn’t get anyone to confirm that and I couldn’t get in the door with the Sutcliffs as soon as the coroner’s report came in.”

“How soon did that take?” I reopened the folder to look at the dates.

“Pretty much right after a phone call from Andrew Parker.”

Andrew Parker being the current patriarch of the Parker clan and Britney’s grandfather. Like something out of Tennessee Williams, he ran the family as a dictatorship and made no apologies for it. Tall, regal with silver-gray hair and a hawk nose in a patrician face, he was the lord of every room he entered. There was never any shortage of subjects to bow and scrape at his feet, either. Every boring town event Nadine dragged us to always had several Parkers in attendance. Nadine liked to fawn over them as much as any other social climber. Before she finally gave up on me she even shoved me in front of a few age appropriate members of the family. That always made me nauseous and embarrassed. Old Mr. Parker, however, scared the hell out of me.

Early on in my apprenticeship, Rozella had warned me to stay far away from the whole family and him in particular after I mentioned my mother speaking to them at some event or other. I had no trouble heeding my mentor’s advice, as I wanted nothing to do with the lot of them.

“Did he want things wrapped up in a hurry or covered up?”

“At first I thought covered up but then the toxicology report came in. That’s what I thought the family wanted hidden. But no, it was out there. I mean, not in the paper of course, but as far as everyone is concerned Britney got drunk and high and drowned by accident.”

“So if they weren’t covering up her substance abuse, what were they covering up?”

“I don’t know but whatever it is, Britney wants it out.” He leaned forward, the chair creaking. Elbows on his knees and blue eyes blazing, he turned the full measure of his intensity on me. “I don’t think she can rest until it’s out, Roxie. Her murder, whatever secrets she took to the grave. I think that’s what the hauntings are about, why she’s all over town and probably more places than even I know. She’s looking for more than justice. She’s looking to burn down whatever bridges it takes.”

The level of thought Ray had put into this was beginning to concern me. If I didn’t know better I’d wonder if he’d been involved with Britney himself, but he would admit it to me if he had. Especially after his confession of earlier in the evening.

“Tell me about the hauntings.”

He swiveled to face the computer, bringing up a document and pointing at the screen. As he stood he said, “Here, read what I’ve got so far.”

I switched chairs. The first couple of pages were about Britney’s appearance in his kitchen. He started with the facts, like what he’d already told me. Then he moved on to his thoughts and impressions and I began to see a whole different side of Ray I’d never been familiar with.

There were a dozen different emotions in her face, one after another like a waterfall. Anger, confusion, determination, sadness. Great sadness. Twenty-four years old, dead face down in three inches of water with her system full of chemicals. At one point she looked incredulous and I could almost hear her, though she didn’t speak, “Can you believe this shit?” Then a pleading, asking me for help. As if to say, this is not what my life was supposed to be. Help me fix this. But I can’t fix it. There’s no turning back the clock, no stopping her death. All I can do is try to solve her murder, if indeed it was murder.

I moved on to the next pages. In addition to the high school basketball game there were several other incidents. One of the older married men Britney was rumored to have had an affair with was seemingly harassed by her ghost in a grocery store. There were several witnesses to that one, providing many gleeful quotes about canned goods and boxes of condoms being hurled at the hapless philanderer. Witnesses described a group of her friends being pelted with popcorn and candy at the movie theater by an invisible entity. A rumor of cars full of teenagers being run off the back nine of the country club’s golf course could have been the ghost, security guards, or nothing at all.

“The woods behind the country club still a place to go parking?”

Ray nodded. “I’m not convinced that was her but I included it anyway. It’s getting to where sightings of her ghost are about as popular as Elvis.”

Strange noises in the apartment where she lived downtown had been heard by the owner of the antique store below it. The Parker family sold her Mini Cooper, the new owner reporting that the stereo turned itself on and off at random as well as changing stations.

The closest the hauntings came to the family was an incident at a book club of which her mother was a member. The meeting was supposed to discuss
Eat, Pray, Love
. Instead the ladies wound up dodging books and wine glasses as the power flickered “like a seizure” as one witness described it.

Joanne Parker had nothing to say on the matter, though according to the same unnamed witness she was the focus of the ghost’s wrath that night. None of the Parkers had anything to say, at least not to Ray.

“Do they know you’re doing this?”

“I’d been wondering that myself, until today.” He sat in the chair I’d vacated. “Sheriff Taylor had me in his office this afternoon. Suggested I might need to pursue another hobby.”

“What’s he like? The new sheriff.” The last one ended his term going to jail for something or other, I couldn’t remember what.

“He’s not a bad guy but he’s more politician than cop. You’d have to be to want the job. He didn’t like having to talk to me about this and the fact that he did it at all tells me he was put under a lot of pressure. I’m not worried about him, though.”

“You worried about old man Parker?” I was and I was barely involved at this point.

“If he is covering something up, he needs to think I’m done nosing around after being called on the carpet today. And he needs to either not know about you at all or think you’re harmless. So we need to figure out how to do this on the down low.”

“Did you just say down low?”

“I have cable. I’m a very hip guy.”

I laughed. The slow smile that used to make my knees weak spread across his face.

A loud knock at the front door ended the moment. We exchanged a look, then he flicked his gaze to the screen. I started closing documents and tucked the paper folder between books on the shelf while he left the room. Something told me he would answer the door with a gun in one hand. Chalk it up to nerves maybe but I kind of hoped he did.

After a moment Ray called my name. I ventured out to the foyer. Daniel stood on the other side of the threshold, looking like trouble with his collar popped, a cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and an open beer bottle in one hand.

The vampire grinned. “Officer, can Roxie come out and play?”

The look Ray gave me would have made me burst out laughing, if not for the vampire on the porch. Grumpy teddy bear, indeed. He leaned close and said in a low voice, “You’re not dating this one too, are you?”

I choked on a mix of laughter and righteous indignation. “Of course not! He’s my.”
Cousin
was on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t say that here. Daniel cocked a smug eyebrow while I scrambled to come up with something. “He’s my friend. My best friend, like a brother to me.” Gesturing from one to the other I said, “Ray Travis, this is Daniel Rambin. Daniel, this is Ray.”

Ray said dubiously, “Nice to meet you.”

Daniel’s grin broadened. “Good to meet you too. Any friend of Roxie’s and all that. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I got some information on our latest case we need to discuss.”

Ray gave me another withering look. I said, “Daniel writes a blog about ghost stories and supernatural legends in the South. He likes to work with me sometimes.”

Daniel said, “I’m working on turning my blog into a book so this is the perfect opportunity to write about something new, rather than old stuff. I picked up a juicy little tidbit at the pool hall tonight I’d love to talk to you both about.” His tone became conciliatory. “If you wouldn’t mind inviting me in.”

I held my breath. Daniel couldn’t enter someone’s private residence without being invited. After a moment’s hesitation and another look at me, Ray said, “Yeah, come on in out of the cold. I was just about to make coffee.”

Daniel stepped across the threshold. I could feel the push against the spell I’d woven with sage earlier. To Daniel it probably felt like mild electric shock even with the invitation, but he showed no reaction. Smiling, he said, “Thank you. I know it’s old fashioned but I don’t feel right stepping into someone’s house without an invitation.”

Ray nodded, his face guarded and body language tight. “Kitchen’s this way.” He walked ahead.

Daniel wagged his eyebrows, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “Deputy Hot Pants, whoo-ee.”

I slapped at his arm. “How drunk are you?”

“Not too drunk at all and getting more sober by the minute, thanks to my special metabolism.”

“Just, please, try to behave. Explaining you is going to be hard enough. Ray’s a cop and he’s not stupid.”

We reached the kitchen before Daniel could reply. Ray had the coffee pot going and was busy clearing dishes from our earlier meal. Daniel helped himself to a seat at the table. I snagged his beer, tossing it in the garbage. He gave me the side-eye but said nothing.

Ray said, “You from Nashville?”

“That’s where I live now. Got a house on the lake though. That’s where we’re staying.”

Ray didn’t miss a beat but I saw the tightness around his eyes. “How long y’all been friends?”

“A few years now. Roxie’s like a little sister to me.” Daniel laughed, the sound fake and forced. “I can be so old-fashioned about some things, sometimes it’s more like she’s my granddaughter or something.” The fake humor died, replaced with steel in his voice. “You two dated, she tells me.”

“We did.” Ray placed his hands on the counter, meeting Daniel’s gaze, not cowed in the least.

“You look like you’re a little older than her.”

I could have cheerfully kicked Daniel for pulling this shit but it’d probably just break my foot. “You said something about picking up info at the pool hall?”

The two men continued their calm staring contest. Right before I was about to suggest they both drop their pants and I get a tape measure, Daniel relented. “The coroner’s got himself a nice new house boat.”

A muscle in Ray’s cheek twitched. “Is that right?”

“Got a space for it at the marina today. Public servants must make better than I thought. Hell, maybe I should go into public service. You got a house boat, Officer Travis?”

“It’s deputy, and no. Nice little fishing boat but no house boat. I keep mine out in the back shed, not at the marina.” The coffee finished percolating and Ray began to make three cups. “I gotta tell you, that’s about the most interesting thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Makes one mighty curious.” The good ol’ boy in Daniel’s voice told me two things. He was relaxed, and he liked Ray. I found that curious.

I said, “I forget, who is the coroner? Is it a name I’d know?”

“Fella named Martin Holt,” Ray said. “He’s from somewhere in Arkansas originally.”

“And he’s friends with the Parkers?” I took my cup and added milk and sugar.

“He and Terry are part of a group that plays golf every other Saturday at the country club.”

Terrance Parker was Britney’s father. “How have her parents handled all this? There was nothing in your files about any of the family having any kind of public reaction.”

“They didn’t have much to say about her death. The haunting stuff, they won’t go near it.”

“I sure would like to know if Britney’s been haunting any of the Parker homes.”

Ray carried a cup to Daniel. “Mackie might talk if properly persuaded.”

Daniel nodded his thanks for the coffee. “I’m guessing with that family you don’t mean money.”

Ray said, “If he’s in the mood to piss off his father and brother he might talk. I’ve tried a couple times and couldn’t get anything out of him. I aim to keep trying.”

I joined Daniel at the table. “We need to decide what’s first. Who we talk to, how we go about it. I mean, the whole ghost book thing is a decent enough cover I guess.”

Ray addressed Daniel, “Do you have an actual blog?”

“Yeah and I need to update it tonight. It’s called Blood Shots.”

“That’s you? Well, hell, I read that.” Ray looked at me. “I had no idea you were the witch he’s talking about. Damn, you have done some tricky jobs.”

All my questions about the case full of metaphysical books in the other room came back. “Since when do you read blogs about ghost hunting? And all those books?” I was really hoping Ray hadn’t been reading the blog back when it was still half full of blood infused drink recipes for vampires. Daniel had gotten away from that over time and the content shifted to supernatural lore.

Ray shrugged. “I was curious.” He sipped his coffee. “What about trying to draw out Britney? Is there something you can do along those lines, rather than wait around for her to show up somewhere and maybe if we hear about it in time we can get there before she’s gone?”

Daniel rubbed his hands together in mock glee. “Sounds like séance time.”

I said, “I can’t do a séance.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been doing them since you set up the Madame Roxella thing.”

“Well, yeah, but.” I stopped. How did I explain Stack to Ray? Or give Daniel a more in depth explanation, for that matter? “I only did a couple and they were. Um.”

Daniel furrowed his brow in disapproval. “Don’t tell me you’ve been scamming people.”

“There was a spirit in the room,” I hedged. “Just not necessarily the one the client expected.”

The vampire tipped his chair back, shaking his head. “God damn insurance company, screwing you over and leading you to moral turpitude like this.”

“Moral turpitude? Really,
Grandpa
?” Being lectured on morals by a drunk vampire. Was this really what my life had come to? I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Ray broke in on our argument. “I’m sure Roxanne is doing the best she can with the tools at her disposal. You said there’s a spirit present during these séances you’ve done. Can it help us contact Britney?”

Daniel made a point of looking from me to Ray and back to me, all expression carefully wiped from his face. I hid behind my coffee for a moment, trying to think. “I don’t know. I’d have to ask him.”

Ray said, “Him?”

“I almost drowned in the flood. I used magic to propel myself out of the water. That was the start. There’s more to it but it’s a long story. His name is Stack and he’s sort of a supernatural assistant. That’s the best way I can think to explain it.” I stared at the floor, waiting for the accusations and recriminations and whatever else Ray wanted to throw at me.

He was quiet for over a minute, the silence heavier as the seconds ticked by. “Why Stack? It doesn’t sound very, I dunno, magical or what have you.”

“The land my house was on, it used to have a juke joint on it decades ago. When Stack’s around I can smell smoke and booze, even hear a little music.”

Ray rubbed his stubble. “
Stack-O-Lee
. Is that what the name’s from?”

One thing Ray and I had in common was a love of old blues. “Yeah. But like I said, I don’t know if he can help. Or will. My control over him only goes so far.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“He’s temperamental but he’s never hurt me or even suggested he might. I feel safe working with him.”

Daniel murmured, “He sure don’t like Blake, though.”

“And Blake doesn’t like him.” The taste of the coffee turned bitter.

Ray asked, “Why’s that?”

I said, “He thinks I should banish Stack. He summoned a demon once and it turned out about as bad as you’d expect. But Stack isn’t a demon.”

Ray said, “You always knew what you were doing. Probably know even better now than back then. So when do we do this séance?”

“Do you still have access to her apartment? It would probably work better if we had something of hers. An object that meant a lot to her if possible.”

“The place is locked up. There’s no way I’d get a warrant or permission from the family.”

The alternative hung unspoken in the air for a long moment. Daniel said, “I’m always up for a little B and E.”

I said, “What happened to moral turpitude?”

He grinned, thankfully taking care to keep his fangs in check. “What can I say? You’ve corrupted me.”

I looked at the law enforcement officer in the room. “Is this something you can live with? I can find another way or try it without anything of hers.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the floor. Finally he said, “Don’t get too crazy and leave any evidence. I want you to wait until my next night shift so I can be on patrol at the time, just in case.”

Not only was he going for it, he was offering to help cover for us. “You sure?”

Raising his eyes to meet mine, I could tell he was working to suppress a smile. “You corrupted me a long time ago.”

I resisted the urge to throw my coffee cup. “Is Hot Ink still in business? I feel like I should get
fallen woman
tattooed on my ass or someplace.”

He drew a heart shape in the air with his index fingers. “Inside a nice red heart. Maybe some roses to really pretty it up.”

Daniel snickered. “I don’t feel like I have anything to add to that.”

“Good,” I said. “Because we’re going. I’ve had enough for one night.”

“Don’t forget your old books,” Ray said.

Reluctant to leave them alone, I nonetheless took a lightning trip to the office to grab my stuff. They were laughing about something when I returned. Ray escorted us to the door, giving me a quick half hug as we said good night.

Daniel must have walked because there was no other vehicle. We climbed into the SUV, me behind the wheel. Speedy vampire metabolism be damned, I didn’t relish the thought of letting him drive still under the influence. Once on the highway I got tired of waiting.

“So?”

“So what?”

“No lectures? No dire warnings? Come on. You’ve got to have some kind of opinion.”

He fiddled with the radio dial. “I think I finally get why you left Blythe.”

That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “What do you mean?”

Satisfied with a station playing Dwight Yoakam, Daniel settled back into the seat and closed his eyes. “We’ll talk about it later. I need my beauty rest.”

I rolled my eyes and drove us back to the lake house.