The Returned (6 page)

“Thanks, chere,” Benji said as his features went from very canine-esque to the normal face she'd seen all night.

“Just paying back you saving my drunk ass,” she said. “Thanks, by the way.”

“I figure it was only right, since I was the one what got you drunk.”

“Hey, that's right,” Wraith said and smiled. “It's okay. I appreciate you not trying to take advantage of my compromised judgment.”

“That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me,” Benji said and winked.

“I don't think you're really much of a gentleman,” Wraith said through what she thought was a sly smile.

Benji's smile vanished.

“No, that's not what I meant,” Wraith said. “I just—”

“It's okay, chere.” His smile returned. “I know what you meant.”

“Want me to drop them off someplace?” Wraith asked. “I could leave them at the north pole or something.”

Benji laughed. “That's all right, but I appreciate the offer.”

Wraith shrugged. “I'm going to leave them in a nearby swamp, then. Least they deserve.”

“Far be it from me to stop you getting yours for what they tried to do to you.”

“You okay to get where you're going?” Wraith asked.

“I try to avoid alleys when I'm on my own.”

“That's really sound advice.” Wraith looked at him. “Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?”

“That'd be nice, chere,” Benji said, then held out a bottle of water. “Take this. You'll thank me tomorrow.

Wraith smiled, took the offered bottle, then stepped over to the two unconscious men.

“You better step back a little bit.”

Benji did.

“See you later,” Wraith said and, with a little more effort than usual, drew the entropic equation around her. Reality spun, and she stepped into the universal junction point, leaving New Orleans behind. Before returning home, she dropped her passengers off at a small island she thought was in a nearby lake. Or, it could've been off the coast of Madagascar; she wasn't really sure.

She stepped into her room, fell onto the sofa, and was asleep before she touched it.

E
dward awoke to a soft kiss on the cheek. When he opened his eyes, Caitlin was smiling at him.

“Good morning,” she said, her green eyes twinkling.

“Yes, it is,” he said. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long. I didn't want to miss calling and checking on Fiona.”

He smiled and wrapped her tighter in his arms, running his hands over her back. “So, room service for breakfast?”

She gave him a wicked grin. “Tempting as that is, let's go out and get some coffee. I want to walk around a bit and see at least some of the city. But hold that thought.”

He nodded. “I suppose we could go for coffee and beignets. I'll call Henry and see if he and Hannah want to meet us someplace.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She kissed his lips, mouth closed.

“Brave woman.”

“Yes, I am. Now hand me my phone.”

Edward did, noticing the clock read just after seven. “So much for sleeping in, huh?”

She laughed. “I've been an early riser since Fiona was born. You married me. That's part of the deal.” She arched an eyebrow. “And if we're going to spend extra time in bed, we're not wasting it sleeping.”

Edward opened his mouth, but he had temporarily lost the ability to form words.

Caitlin dialed the phone and put it on speaker.

“Hello,” said Daniel.

“Morning, Daniel,” she said into the phone. “I didn't wake you, did I?”

“Not at all. Fiona and I are just having our coffee.”

Edward looked from the phone to Caitlin and mouthed, “Did my dad just make a joke?”

“Just make sure hers is half-caff,” Caitlin joked.

“Is that Mommy and Daddy?” Caitlin heard Fiona ask.

“Okay, I'll tell her,” Daniel said away from the phone. “My granddaughter says to tell you she is having so much fun that she doesn't have time to talk to you right now.”

“Taid, you know very well I did not say that,” Fiona said. “If you don't give me the phone, I'm telling Nana.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Daniel said.

“Hi, Mommy! Hi, Daddy!” Fiona said.

“Hi, honey,” Caitlin said.

“Morning, munchkin,” Edward said.

“I'm sorry I didn't talk to you last night,” Caitlin said. “Nana said you were all tired out and asleep.”

“I was,” Fiona said. “They ran me ragged yesterday.”

Caitlin and Edward both stifled a laugh.

“I heard you went to the Children's Museum.”

“Yep,” Fiona said. “And Nana even let me invite Carleigh too.”

“That was really nice of her,” Caitlin said. “Did you say thank you?”

“Mommy, of course I did,” Fiona said. “We had lunch before going to the museum and ice cream after that. I had vanilla. Then Carleigh and I built our own flying machines, and they really flew. Then we . . . ”

Edward and Caitlin snuggled close and listened to Fiona recount her adventures.

“How is New Orleans?” Fiona asked after her in-depth, if-not-always-linear detailing of her day. “Have you got my present yet?”

They laughed. “No, we haven't.”

“You won't forget, will you?” Fiona asked.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Edward said.

“What are you doing today?” Caitlin asked.

“Taid is taking me to the aquarium in Boston!”

“He is? Wow, you love the aquarium!”

“I know!” Fiona paused for a long moment. “I miss you.”

“We miss you too,” Edward said and stroked Caitlin's hair.

“Well, I have to get ready for the aquarium,” Fiona said.

“You'd better get hopping, then,” Caitlin said. “Be good. We'll call you later today.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“We love you too,” they both said.

“Just to be clear,” Daniel said when he got back on the phone, “I really was joking about the coffee. She's drinking milk.”

“We know,” Caitlin said. “We'll have our phones if you need us for anything.”

“Will do,” Daniel said. “Call anytime.”

Caitlin hung up.

“I have no idea who that was,” Edward said. “But that was not my father.”

Caitlin smiled, but it was a little forced.

“It sounds like she's having a good time with the aliens impersonating my parents.”

“I told you, it's the magic of a grandchild.”

“Not to take anything away from Fiona,” he said, “but I'm sticking with the theory they were replaced by aliens.”

Caitlin laughed and shook her head. “Okay, you call Henry. I'm going to get in the shower.” She slipped out of bed and retrieved a robe from the closet.

Edward admired the lines and curves of her naked body as she slipped the robe on. “I'd rather go with you.”

“Better be quick on the call, then,” she said and left the bedroom.

Edward dialed Henry, who picked up on the third ring.

“Good morning. I'm surprised to be hearing from you so early,” he said in a wry tone.

Edward was about to retort, but he heard the shower turn on. “Are you and Hannah up for coffee and beignets?”

“That's Hannah's weakness,” Henry said.

“Great, an hour and a half at Café Du Monde, then?”

“Sure, that sounds like a plan—”

“See you then,” Edward said, hung up the phone, and moved quickly to the bathroom.

“W
e're going to be a little late,” Edward said into the phone as he and Caitlin made their way down Royal Street. “We should be there in about fifteen minutes or so.” Edward smiled watching Caitlin look through the windows of the countless antiques shops. “See you soon.”

Edward let out a contented sigh. Everything felt perfect. The weather was warm but not hot, he was on his honeymoon with his beautiful wife, and Fiona was even having a good time without them. Then something tugged at the edge of his mind.

He stopped and looked around.

“What is it?” Caitlin asked, scanning the area too.

After a moment, he shook his head. “Nothing, sorry.” He made to resume walking, but Caitlin held fast.

“Tell me.”

He shrugged. “I just had a feeling like we were being watched.”

Caitlin looked around more intently this time.

“It was just for a second,” he said. “I was probably just imagining it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Positive. Come on.”

They resumed their walking, and Edward tried to ignore the stab of guilt when he looked at Caitlin. She'd slipped from carefree enjoyment to suspiciously observant.

Maybe seeing Henry and Hannah would put it out of her mind.

He glanced over his shoulder.

And out of his mind too.

“Hey, you,” said a pretty woman about Edward's age with chestnut-colored hair and a big smile. Next to her sat Henry, whom Caitlin had called a young Don Cheadle. Edward didn't really see it.

When Caitlin stepped close enough, Hannah threw her arms around Caitlin, and they hugged like old friends.

Henry and Edward shook hands and exchanged very manly one-armed hugs.

“It's so good to see y'all,” Hannah said.

“You too,” Caitlin said.

“Why don't you two catch up? I'll go get us our coffee,” Edward said to Caitlin, then turned to Henry and Hannah. “You want anything?”

“An order of beignets,” Hannah said.

Henry gave her a sidelong glance, and she wiped some powdered sugar from her lips.

“Yes, we had an order already,” she said. “Would you like to comment on that fact?”

“No, ma'am, I would not,” Henry said. “I was just going to ask for an order of my own.”

Edward laughed and went to the walk-up window. A few minutes later, he set down the two incredibly hot cups of café au lait and a triple order of light, delicious fried dough. After sitting down, he noticed Hannah's cup.

“Community Coffee?” he asked her.

“I thought the coffee here was famous,” Caitlin said.

“Sure, for tourists,” she said.

Henry laughed.

“This is what locals drink,” Hannah said, then pointed to the cups Edward brought. “We save that chicory stuff for you Yankees who don't know any better.”

Everyone laughed, then slipped into easy small talk: how nice the wedding was, embarrassing college stories, and what to see in New Orleans. After an hour or so, Hannah looked down at her phone.

“Oh, damn,” she said. “I've got to go.”

“Now?” asked Caitlin. “But it's Saturday.”

“Life of a professor,” Hannah said.

“Professor, hell,” Henry said. “You didn't have a tenth of these meetings before you became the department head.”

Hannah looked from Edward to Henry. “Yes, because doctors have such reasonable hours.”

“This is the point in the conversation where you stop talking,” Caitlin said through a grin.

Henry nodded. “And I wish my wife a good day and kiss her good-bye.” He did just that.

“We'll do dinner sometime this week,” Hannah said to Caitlin. “Promise.”

“Absolutely,” Caitlin said.

Hannah gave her good-bye hugs and cheek kisses, then darted off to her car.

“I really like her,” Caitlin said.

“She is something special,” Henry said.

The casual conversation resumed, but ten minutes later, Henry glanced down at his phone.

“Did Hannah forget something?” Edward asked and reached to eat the last beignet.

Caitlin snatched it before he could.

“Huh?” Henry looked up. “No, it's a friend of mine,” he said, clearly distracted as he read the text. “I've been offering advice and consults on some—” He shook his head. “No, I'm not ruining your honeymoon with this business. We're not talking shop.”

Caitlin snorted. “Please. It's not like any of us have regular jobs. It's the talking about it that keeps us sane.”

Henry let out a long sigh. “In this case, I think talking about it would have the opposite effect.”

Caitlin and Edward exchanged a glance.

“Well, that's not intriguing at all,” Edward said.

“No kidding,” Caitlin agreed. “You've really got to work on your dissuasion skills.”

Henry shook his head. “No way, I am not sharing this weirdness with you.”

“I see what you mean,” Edward said to Caitlin but still looking at Henry. “With every word, he just makes it sound more and more interesting.”

“You really should just spill it,” Caitlin said. “The sooner you give in, the better it'll be for you.”

“Resistance is futile and all that?” Henry asked.

“Spill it, Henry,” Caitlin said with a grin.

He took a sip of coffee. “Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Again, that isn't helping.” Edward said.

“You remember after medical school I went into forensic pathology,” Henry said.

“You were an ME?” Caitlin asked.

“No,” Henry said. “I just went through the residency and board certifications. After that I was hired on with a private consulting firm.”

“Why'd you leave?” Caitlin asked.

“Honestly, money is better as a practicing MD,” Henry said. “And I like connecting with patients. But my certification doesn't expire for another three years, so I sometimes consult with the Orleans parish coroner. He's an old friend. It's nothing exciting, but occasionally he wants a second opinion or needs something peer reviewed. If it's serious, he usually outsources to someone he doesn't have a friendship with.”

“Makes sense,” Edward said. “Isn't the city under stricter review since Katrina?”

Henry nodded. “That's one of the reasons he calls on me. Lab work has to go through the FBI, and autopsy records have to be randomly checked by outside reviewers. He was elected a couple of months ago, and he wants to show he takes the job, and the city's history, seriously. I check his reports sometimes, make sure he hasn't missed anything that would make him look bad.” Henry lifted his hands. “Nothing untoward, you understand. But everyone makes mistakes, and he can't afford any.”

“We got it,” Caitlin said. “He's a good guy, doesn't cover things up, and you don't help him cover things up. Tell me this isn't the story.”

Henry went to take another drink of his coffee, only to find that it was empty.

Edward leaned forward. “Okay, all fun aside, something is really bothering you. What is it?”

“Two weeks ago, a body came into the morgue,” Henry said, eyes on the table. “Male in his early twenties, multiple gunshot wounds, found at the scene of a terrible shoot-out at a known gang house.” Henry began fiddling with the empty cup. “Terrible mess, dozens of victims, but not exactly unheard of in this city.”

“But,” Caitlin prompted.

“But,” Henry said, “when performing the autopsy, John, the coroner, noticed the healed scars of a Y incision.”

“What?” Edward asked.

Henry nodded. “Not the kind of incision you'd see outside of an autopsy. At first he didn't recognize it.” Henry shrugged. “It's not like you ever really see those after they've healed.”

“But this one was?” Caitlin asked. “Was it some kind of scarification?”

“That was the theory,” Henry said. “But after running the ID, it turned out that young man had come through the morgue once already, a couple of months before.”

Edward opened his mouth.

“Yes, he checked the fingerprints,” Henry said. “And had them rechecked, twice. Then he ran the DNA, both from this case and the previous. Then he had those checked twice. All the results confirmed it was the same person.”

“So they made a mistake the first time,” Edward said. “Misidentified the body. It's not a nice thought, but it does happen sometimes.”