Deadly Night (21 page)

“Really?” Kendall asked.
Just like Miss Ady.

But neither of them had dreamed of a sad man with skin the color of café au lait.

The same man who went to the bar. If he was a ghost…

She almost asked Aidan if he had ever noticed the man, but she bit her lip and kept silent. This was getting crazy, though. He was having dreams, and she was seeing ghosts.

Matty Burningham was already at the coffeehouse when he arrived. She told him she’d waited to order, and he decided to go ahead and have an omelet with her.

She was nervous, talking about the dress she’d bought for the gala, asking him about the house. At last he set his hand over hers and stopped her. “Matty, what’s up with you? Why did you want to see me?”

For a moment he thought she was going to cry, and he really hoped she wouldn’t, because he wasn’t much good with tears.

“It’s Jonas, of course.”

“Matty, I wouldn’t worry about anything. He loves you.”

“You think?” she asked a little bitterly. She looked at him squarely. “Aidan, is he cheating on me?”

“Matty, I haven’t seen an awful lot of Jonas lately, you know.”

“But you know him. You did work together once.”

“Matty, I’m sure he loves you,” Aidan said.

“I did everything for him,” she said. “Boobs, face—and it wasn’t as if I were wrinkled like a prune or anything.”

“Matty, you’re beautiful now, and you were beautiful before. It’s all a matter of how you feel about yourself.”

“That’s just it. I didn’t care. I did it for him, and it doesn’t seem as if…He doesn’t seem interested in
me
anymore. It’s as if…I don’t know. It’s as if he’s bored.”

“Matty, I’m sure things will work out. Have you tried talking to him?”

“Yeah, he acts as if there’s nothing wrong.”

“Maybe there isn’t.”

“Oh, Aidan. You’re just being sweet.”

“Matty, we can all be flirts.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “Not you,” she said softly. “When Serena was alive, you never…I’m sorry. It’s just that you never acted like…you even noticed any woman but her.”

He didn’t even know what to say to that. It was true, though.

“Aidan, there have been nights when he hasn’t come home.”

“What has he said to you?”

“That he was working.”

“Maybe he
was
working.”

“Right. At a bar.”

“Matty, honest to God, sometimes you do start working at a bar. Surveillance. And you have to act like you’re there for the good times and the show.”

“Talk to him, will you?” she asked.

“Matty, this has to be between the two of you.”

“If he’s cheating on me, yes. If he’s already called a divorce lawyer, I want to know.”

“I’ll talk to him and see if I can get him to talk to you. How’s that?”

“Thanks, Aidan. Only, please, don’t tell him that I called you. He’ll be furious.”

“I won’t say anything, Matty,” he promised. “I’ll be subtle.”

“He likes that place where Vinnie plays. He says he goes for the music. That it’s some of the best in the city.”

“I suppose it depends on what you like, but I can tell you this,” Aidan told her gently. “He really might be going for the music. Both my brothers—who know their stuff—agree that the Stakes are really good. So he’s not lying to you about that.”

Matty shivered suddenly. “I don’t know. Sometimes the place gives me the creeps.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’ve been in there with him a few times, you know, and I always feel like someone is watching me.”

“Well, I told you. You’re a beautiful woman. I’m sure lots of men watch you.”

She didn’t blush, smile or even thank him. “No, it’s not like that. Not even like…well, a drunken leer. I just feel like there’s someone who skulks in there and pictures all the women with their clothes off or something…. Oh, I don’t know. It’s just not a nice feeling.”

She gave herself a little shake and met his eyes again. “Anyway, thanks, Aidan. And I’m sorry about Serena, you know. So sorry. Isn’t life ironic? Here are Jonas and me, and it’s not looking so good for us. There were you and Serena, and everything about the two of you was perfect, and so life took a brutal swing at you.” She gasped then, as if she’d just realized she might be trespassing on territory that was too private. “Oh, that was a horrible thing to say, Aidan. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

She brightened. “Three years…and here you are, in New Orleans. I hope you find someone new, Aidan. The right person. She’ll be very lucky.”

“Thank you, Matty. And listen, things will work out.”

He wanted to leave it at that, but he couldn’t. “Matty, how long has this been going on? I mean, Jonas not coming home at night?”

“The first time was about three months ago. The last time? Let me think. Week before last. Oh, Aidan…”

“Matty, don’t worry. I’ll talk to him.”

When he left her, he thought she was happier. He wasn’t.

He was suddenly wondering just how his old friend
was
spending those nights out.

Saturday brought a continual flow of people in and out of the shop. Luckily Vinnie had come in and stayed to help.

Kendall had decided that she wasn’t going to do any readings that day. She told Mason from the start that she wouldn’t; any walk-ins who demanded her services specifically would just have to make an appointment for the next week. She was looking forward to the party that night, even though she wondered if she was becoming too dependent on Aidan’s company.

And she was already in a slightly weird place. Had she imagined the man in the kitchen? She must have, because she had checked the entire downstairs and there had been no one there.

She didn’t believe in ghosts, she told herself. She
didn’t
.

At two, when it trickled down to empty for a few minutes, she noticed Mason and Vinnie standing side by side and staring at her, grinning.

“Hey. Where did you go last night?” Mason asked her.

“Go?” she said.

“I went by your place to see if you felt like going out. You weren’t home. Your car was there, but you weren’t. Or at least, you didn’t answer when I rang your bell.” He moved closer, winking confidentially. “Were you sleeping? Or were you out?”

“She was out, all right,” Vinnie teased.

“Out at the plantation,” Mason said knowingly. They looked like a pair of boys hiding behind the bleachers and telling exaggerated tales of their dates.

“Yes, I was out at the plantation,” she said, staring back at them.

“Well, that was no fun. She gave in too easily,” Mason said.

Vinnie shrugged. “I thought we’d get her to blush, at least.”

“Hey, did you hear about the guy who threatened the Flynns on the radio last night?” Mason asked her.

“Yes, Zach came in and mentioned something about it,” she said.

“They’re not scared, right? Anything else weird happening out there?” Vinnie asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing last night,” she said casually.

This morning, though, she added silently, I thought I saw a ghost.

“You know, that story about the cousins is supposed to be true,” Mason said. “So somewhere along the line, you should be hearing the neighing of horses and the clash of sabers or something.”

“The Flynn cousins shot each other,” Vinnie said. “No sabers.”

“Hey, Vinnie,” Kendall said. “Is there anything in that story about a man of mixed blood?”

“Oh, no, she’s being haunted by the ghost of the caretaker!” Vinnie exclaimed with a laugh.

“I’m not being haunted by any ghost. I was just trying to remember the whole story. I remember the part about the Union soldiers attacking Fiona, and that’s why she jumped off the balcony.”

“Fiona, huh?” Mason teased.

“That was her name, I’m pretty sure,” Kendall said. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to admit, even to the two of them, that she had borrowed the old diary from the attic.

“Well, as a matter of fact,” Vinnie said, “the caretaker’s name was Henry. And he
was
a man of mixed blood. When everyone wound up dead, the soldiers who had been there ran back into the city. Henry had been with the family for years, but he was a free man. And he rescued the baby—Fiona and Sloan’s baby—who was the ancestor of Amelia. And the Flynn brothers, too, of course.”

All this talk of history made Kendall think about Sheila again. Shelia and the laughing card. Death.

Sheila was dead, she suddenly thought with complete certainty.

No! Sheila was on vacation; she would be back this weekend.

The bell above the door tinkled. “Customers,” she said firmly, forcing herself away from the scary direction her thoughts had taken.

The graveyard was a mess.

Aidan, dirty, sweaty and frustrated, sat on one of the low sarcophagi and stared around.

He’d dug some pretty deep holes.

He’d found four old graves in which the old wooden coffins had completely decayed and only skeletons remained.

He was certain that the work crew, glancing over now and then from the house, must think they were employed by a complete lunatic.

He was searching for a needle in a haystack, he knew. All the skeletons he had uncovered so far had been intact.

He had refilled the graves, and in doing so, he had discovered that many of the graves had shifted. Even if there were a plan for the graveyard, something that didn’t seem to exist, it would be no help in showing him where all the bodies were. Trying to discover if the thighbone had indeed come from an old skeleton didn’t seem like a logical plan.

But even as he sat there, he kept thinking that there was
something
he should be discovering here.

Jimmy had said that the ghosts came out in the cemetery.

He had found what he was certain was dried blood on a gravestone.

There was something here.

What was the connection between the plantation, Kendall’s shop, the bar where Vinnie played and a girl who had disappeared?

Maybe there was
no
connection. Or not a meaningful one, anyway. Sure, Vinnie had walked Jenny back to where she had been staying. But another guest had verified the fact that she had changed clothes and gone out again to meet someone.

He thought about what he knew about people, what he had seen and learned over the years. He didn’t believe that Vinnie would have been quite so forthcoming if he were guilty.

Not to mention that he didn’t even know if the ten missing women whose cases Zachary had found were related.

What did he really have so far?

Two human bones—that might or might not be recent. The knowledge that at least one young woman had disappeared from New Orleans without a trace.

A pattern of disappearances
most probably
from the same area, a pattern that had been escalating in the last few years.

And a nightmare in which a sea of dismembered corpses clutched at him and a woman in white begged for help.

He still felt the answer or at least a crucial clue lay buried somewhere in this graveyard, but it was getting late, and he had to give it up for the day.

As he walked back into the house, covered with dirt, even Zachary looked at him strangely.

“Don’t ask,” he told his brother.

“I won’t. I’m heading into the city now to get ready for Jeremy’s deal tonight.”

“I’ll see you there,” Aidan told him.

Upstairs, he showered again and dressed for the night. He walked back down to the formal dining room and looked at the family paintings and photos on the wall. Amelia had been captured in her mature years; she was a handsome woman still, slim, with a brilliant smile and a face lined with experience.

“I would deeply appreciate if you wouldn’t haunt my dreams,” he told the woman in the painting.

She continued to smile back at him, unperturbed.

It was nothing but a picture. A picture that had somehow haunted his sleep. Just his subconscious, he told himself. And yet he couldn’t escape the thought that the house—or at least the ghosts of the past that haunted it—was urging him to solve the mystery.

He began to study the paintings of the long-ago Flynns, pausing at one of a beautiful woman in a white gown with tiny roses embroidered on it. The little plaque at the bottom identified her as Fiona MacFarlane Flynn but “Flynn” had been etched on in a different and more primitive hand. Curious.

He remembered seeing the woman’s elaborate tomb in the graveyard, but the inscription there said only Fiona MacFarlane. He recalled that she was the one who had died jumping off the balcony. For some reason, he touched the painting, and as he stared at it, he had the odd sense that someone was standing behind him.

As he swung around swiftly, his peripheral vision seemed to catch a shadow just disappearing into the kitchen.

He followed, determined to find out if someone else was in the house.

The kitchen was empty.

It must have been a workman.

But the back door was locked, and the remaining workmen were all outside, packing up their tools for the night.

Obviously, he told himself, he hadn’t actually seen anyone, and no one had been standing behind him.

And if there were shadows in this house and they were human—and those voodoo dolls had definitely been left by human hands—they were in trouble. Because he was going to be wearing the Colt on his person at all times from now on.

T
he aquarium was done up in black and orange, since it was October and Halloween was coming, but none of the decorations were scary. The pumpkins all wore happy grins, and the only witches present were good witches, dressed in bright colors with cute hats. They were played by volunteers from the local colleges, and they were serving punch and special snacks for the kids. Since children were welcome guests tonight, there were many in attendance.

The city was represented by employees from every department. The band the radio station had brought in was good, though, in Kendall’s opinion, not nearly as good as the Stakes, and Vinnie agreed.

They were standing by a tank displaying hundreds of tiny octopi. Vinnie was mournfully watching the band, while Mason was watching a pretty young blonde. Kendall was watching Aidan, who was deep in conversation with a man with slicked-back dark hair and his Kewpie-doll companion. Frowning, she tried to place the man, who looked naggingly familiar.

As she stood there, Kendall felt a nudge and heard someone say, “Hey there, girl.”

She turned. It was Rebecca. “Hey, yourself.”

“We dress up pretty good, huh?” Rebecca said.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Kendall said with pleasure.

“Honey, I’m not sure all these people would be thrilled to know that half the morgue is here,” Rebecca told her, grinning.

“Is Miss Ady here, too?” Kendall asked.

“No, this is too much bash—and too many young children running around—for my mama these days. No, I’m here as a supportive civil servant. And what are you three doing, moping around here like a trio of logs? Let’s get on that floor and dance.”

“Why, Rebecca, what an idea,” Mason said approvingly. “Think you can dance me over to that blonde?”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised.

“I guess that leaves you and me,” Vinnie said to Kendall.

“Oh, cheer up, we’re good together,” Kendall said, and laughed. “Remember Miss Louisa’s Cotillion for Young Southern Citizens?”

“I do,” he said, groaning.

They headed for the floor, and she realized she enjoyed dancing with Vinnie. Before the number ended, though, Aidan cut in.

“Having fun?” he asked her.

“Yes. Well, except for when Vinnie is whining about the band.”

Aidan laughed. “The Stakes
are
better.”

“It seems like a huge success.”

“It is. Jeremy is thrilled.”

“That’s who it is!” Kendall said suddenly, noticing the dark-haired man over Aidan’s shoulder and finally placing him.

“Who
who
is?” Aidan asked her.

“Dr. Abel. He looks terrific in a tux. I’ve only ever seen him with his hair wild, his glasses halfway down his nose and wearing a lab coat. I’ve met him a few times, but I’ve never seen him cleaned up. He’s not half so creepy like this.”

Aidan grinned. “Maybe not so creepy, but he’s still a jerk. Doesn’t matter. Thanks to Rebecca, I’ve got Jonas stepping in to tell him that the Feds are taking over. The bones are going to some experts up in the D.C. area. I’m going to pick them up on Monday and oversee the transfer myself, along with a dried blood scraping and a dress that I hope will produce some skin flakes.”

Before she could reply, Rebecca was cutting in on her. “Excuse me, there’s a fox-trot coming up, and this man looks like a fox to me.”

“Please, enjoy,” Kendall said with a laugh.

She danced with Mason. Then, to her surprise, when Mason finally got a chance to dance with his blonde, she found herself on the floor alone, facing Dr. Jon Abel, who had apparently just lost his partner, too.

“Miss Montgomery, right?” he said.

“Yes. Hello, Dr. Abel.”

He offered her a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Nice affair, isn’t it?” he asked cheerfully. “I’m glad to see people out in force for the benefit of New Orleans.”

“How are things? Is the crime rate still high?”

“We’re not the worst in the country, but a lot of the parish is still struggling.” He smiled. “I’ll let you in on a secret.”

“Oh?”

“You came with Aidan Flynn, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I know he’s frustrated that I haven’t gotten some results for him yet. And I’m sure he thinks I’ll be angry about turning the work over to the Federal lab. Here’s the secret. I’m not angry at all. I’m relieved. We’re still too busy with the present.”

She nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

She’d already noticed that he was a smooth dancer, and now she was pleased to discover that he was also a pleasant man. Rebecca had said a few times that he could be fierce, but that probably just came with the territory.

“This is a lovely party, don’t you think? I hear they’re going to announce another one tonight, something out at that place they inherited,” he said.

“Oh?”

“You don’t know?”

“I’d heard they were talking about it.”

“It should be good, casual instead of formal like tonight. Don’t tell Aidan I applaud his family’s efforts, though. It’s better if he keeps thinking I’m an old grouch.”

“My lips are sealed,” she assured him.

The music stopped, and it looked to Kendall as if there were going to be some announcements. Sure enough, the mayor got up on the stage, thanking everyone for making the city great again. Then he turned the mike over to Al Fisher, the DJ emceeing the event, who in turn gave it over to Jeremy.

Jeremy promised to keep his remarks brief, saying he didn’t want to stop the evening with a speech. He talked a little about Children’s House, then said, “I know this is short notice, folks, and it will be first come, first served, but I want to announce a benefit bash out at the Flynn plantation on the thirty-first. We’re calling it our Haunted Holiday Happening, and we’re hoping to raise a lot more money while everyone has a lot more fun.”

The DJ came back then to talk about how, where and when people could buy tickets, and while he was talking, Vinnie reappeared at Kendall’s side.

“They have to hire us this time, Kendall. You’ve got pull. Tell them they’ve got to hire the Stakes.”

“Vinnie, I can suggest it,” she said. “You know Jeremy pretty well. Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

“Yeah, but I think your boy calls the shots where that house is concerned.”

“That’s not true at all. And who knows? The radio station hired this group, maybe they’re in charge for the next party, too.”

“Just ask Aidan, would you?”

“Ask Aidan what?”

He was back at her side. She glanced up at him and felt very warm all of a sudden. The room was full of beautiful people tonight, but Aidan wore his tux exceptionally well. His hair was so dark and his eyes so deep a blue, and his broad shoulders, tapering hips and sheer height gave him a James Bond quality. And once, she realized, he really had been a G-man, even if not a British one.

“Vinnie wants me to ask you if the Stakes can play at the Halloween benefit,” she said. “He thinks they should.”

“So do I,” Aidan said.

Vinnie stared at him. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll ask Jeremy what he has in mind. It’s his decision. Kendall, care to dance?”

“You’ve made his day,” she said as she swept out on the floor with Aidan.

She wanted to ask if he’d totally cleared Vinnie of suspicion, but she decided not to. They seemed to be getting along, and she wanted to keep it that way. After all, maybe he just wanted to keep a close eye on Vinnie.

He could dance so well that at first she didn’t realize he had maneuvered them into a spot where he could watch Mason, who was dancing with the blonde again.

“Are you always like this?” she asked him.

“Like what?”

“Conducting surveillance?”

He had the grace to grimace. “Not always. I won’t be later, I promise.”

“Later?”

“Aren’t you coming back out to the plantation with me? Tomorrow is Sunday, and Mason said you decided to close tomorrow so you could both take a break after the gala. I admit, workmen will be clomping around the house, but…” His brows knit into a frown as his words trailed away. “I didn’t scare you off, did I? I mean, I suppose it’s rather bizarre when your first night in a man’s house ends with him sleepwalking.”

“No. And yes, but we have to go to my place first. I need some things—and the poor cat. She looked at me today as if I were a traitor.”

“She can come, too.”

“Too many workmen. She’ll have to learn that cats are supposed to be independent.”

Soon after, while Aidan was talking to Jon Abel—a conversation that looked pleasant, at least from a distance—Kendall found herself standing with Hal Vincent and a few of the other police officers she’d known forever. Hal rolled his eyes when the upcoming event at the Flynn plantation came up. “They’re going to have to hire some outside security. That place is dark as hell, and you’re sure to have a few idiots who think it would be fun to go play in the graveyard or get lost in the woods down by the river.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. This went well, but I think they’re pushing it, having something out at that old place.”

“But the plantation is a piece of history, and it’s for a good cause,” Kendall objected.

“People are people. There are idiots in every crowd. Haven’t you ever seen any of those teen slasher movies? The kids keep going back out to the woods to fool around, even knowing there’s a killer on the loose. And when you watch those movies, you think nobody is that stupid. Sad thing is, people actually are,” Hal said. “And that place? It’s haunted,” he assured her in a dead-serious tone.

“This from a jaded homicide detective?”

“I may mess with the living, but I don’t go up against ghosts,” Hal told her. “Hey, my mama taught me there are some things best left alone, and that includes ghosts.”

“I’m sure they’ll arrange for good security.”

“They’ll be paying for it, too,” Hal said grimly.

As they were speaking, Jonas and his wife approached them.

“Miss Montgomery,” Jonas said, and introduced himself, “you may not remember me, but we’ve crossed paths a few times. I’d like you to meet my wife, Matty.”

Matty looked as if she’d probably paid for her plastic surgeon’s newest Mercedes, but her smile, as she took Kendall’s hand, was warm and genuine. “I’ve read about you,” she said.

“You’ve read about me?”

“In the ‘Neighbors’ section of the paper,” Matty explained. “After Amelia died. There was a real nice article in there about the way she’d helped you when you’d been orphaned and then opening your shop, and how you returned that favor, caring for her. It was a nice write-up. Anyway, when I read it, I felt kind of like I knew you. I lost my folks when I was young, too.”

“I’m sorry. It’s nice to meet you. And I’ll have to look up that article. I never saw it.”

“Are you really a psychic?” Matty asked.

Kendall hesitated. “I really know how to read a tarot deck,” she said.

“Great. I’ve been wanting to check out your shop. I’ll come by next week.” She smiled.

Eventually the party wound down, and Kendall left with Vinnie, Mason and the three Flynn brothers. It was late, but Café du Monde stayed open to all hours, so they headed in that direction for coffee and beignets. When Kendall and Aidan got up to leave, she asked Mason about his blonde. “Did you get her name and number?”

He grinned. “You bet. I’ll be seeing her again.”

It had been a long day. Kendall was still keyed up when they finally returned to the plantation after a stop at her place to pick up clothes and spend a few minutes with Jezebel. Once again the windows were shining from within, and she could see that a light had been rigged back by the old slave quarters, too. But it was just a house, she told herself. Just a house.

It was welcoming, beautiful. And besides, Aidan was wearing his gun. She knew because she had felt the bulge beneath his jacket.

Inside the front door, Aidan paused and kissed her. “You need anything?” he asked her.

She smiled.
Just you
was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t say it.

“Have you got any water in the fridge?” she asked.

“Should have,” he said. They walked through the dining room to reach the kitchen, and she was surprised when Aidan slowed to look at the family portraits as they passed. He stopped by the portrait of Fiona MacFarlane Flynn.

“You know, she’s got a beautiful tomb in the graveyard, but she was buried as Fiona MacFarlane.”

“Her marriage was a secret, because of the war. Her husband, who owned this place, was fighting for the South, but with the Union closing in, he probably thought she’d be in more danger here if they arrived and thought she was married to a Confederate soldier,” Kendall told him. “I guess that was the reason, anyway.”

“I think we should have her name corrected, don’t you?” Aidan asked.

Kendall was surprised. He had never seemed like the sentimental type, especially not over something that had occurred over a century and a half ago.

“That would be a nice touch,” she agreed.

They grabbed a couple of bottles of water, then moved casually and sedately enough up the stairs, but once inside the master bedroom, they were in one another’s arms in seconds. Their relationship was still so new that just touching him intimately was absolutely fascinating. Feeling his lips on her naked flesh was like lightning striking. She wondered if she would ever tire of him, and she thought it just wasn’t possible. Nor would she grow weary of the sound of his voice, the look in his eyes, the ripple of his laughter. He made love aggressively at first, then with an almost awed tenderness, but every climax was equally cataclysmic.

She would never tire of lying beside him, or of the sense of being one with him. And sleep…Even sleep was better in his arms. Deep, complete.

Until the dream came.

They had been looking at Fiona’s portrait earlier. That explained the first vision that played out in her dreams. She was just there, watching, as if she were a fly on the wall, a pair of eyes in the breeze. She heard the pounding of a horse’s hooves, and then there were shouts and men in Union officers’ uniforms, while only one man—a man who looked so much like Aidan—was decked out in butternut and gray, his cavalry insignia threadbare and worn. It was his horse she had heard, as he galloped to reach the house. And there, on the upper balcony, was a beautiful woman in white. Fiona.