The Reckoning (21 page)

“She wasn’t dead,” Alex said, trying to absorb it all.

“No. She was just in a state of limbo between the spirit world and this one, drawing on their power.”

“But the scream…”

Mathilde nodded. “Mama said the potion burned like fire once it hit your stomach. That scream was her way of releasing the pain from her body.”

“Have you ever been rebirthed?” Holt asked Mathilde.

Mathilde shot him a derisive look. “’Course not. Who the hell would have buried me and dug me up?” She waved a hand at him. “You city folk have forgotten how to think.”

Alex smiled and picked up the silver bell, turning it over in her hands. It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from her body, and she couldn’t wait to tell Sarah. Hopefully, her conversation with Sarah would include news on Erika. It was a stretch for her to buy into Mathilde’s “powers,” but too many odd things had happened for her to ignore. And at the moment, they had no clue where Erika was. Alex was tilting over into desperation.

She handed Mathilde the sticks and placed the silver bell back on the shelf. Maybe things would be revealed tonight as they had been this evening. Maybe all the answers they were looking for would start to unfold tonight.

Maybe.

* * *

M
ATHILDE SET A MAKESHIFT ALTAR
at the edge of the bank near the old dock. On top of it, she placed the bowl she’d used for reading leaves and a jar of something she’d brewed that smelled awful and had made Alex’s eyes burn so badly she’d left the cabin. Two black candles completed the assortment of objects.

Mathilde had ditched her ragged jeans and T-shirt and replaced them with a black robe. Her silver hair seemed to glow in the dark as she arranged the items on the altar and checked the moon as it rose above the tree line.

“Only a few minutes more,” Mathilde said. “When the moonlight reaches the altar, I can begin.”

Alex watched nervously as the moonlight crept up the bank, inching toward the altar. The predicted storm was brewing overhead, and if it came up before Mathilde could do the reading, the dark clouds could completely block the moonlight, making the reading impossible.

Holt eased beside her and took her hand in his and squeezed. She knew he didn’t believe and was afraid of her disappointment if they found nothing to help find Erika. She also knew he was frustrated that he’d been unable to do more.

Mathilde pulled a box of matches from her pocket and lit the candles, placing them on each side of the bowl. The moonlight crept up the side of the altar, and she poured the liquid into the bowl then raised her arms toward the sky. As the moonlight inched into the bowl, she began chanting, first low and soft and increasing in volume as she continued.

Alex felt a pain in her chest and realized she was holding her breath. The air left her body in a whoosh and for a moment, she was afraid the sound would disturb the ceremony, but Mathilde was looking skyward, her eyes clenched and voice loud and clear. Alex remembered a little of the Creole language from her childhood and could make out the words
answers
,
child
,
mother
and
offering
.

Mathilde had a handmade necklace in her pocket that she was going to offer to the spirits in exchange for information on Erika. When the moonlight filled the bowl, she pulled out the necklace and placed it next to the bowl, then placed Erika’s barrette on top of the liquid.

Alex glanced at the sky, growing more anxious as the dark clouds swirled closer and closer to the moon. When Mathilde began to chant again, a flash of lightning tore right overhead and Alex jumped. The static electricity in the air made Mathilde’s hair stand on end like glowing silver strands in the moonlight, but even the booming thunder that followed didn’t cause her to pause.

Suddenly, Mathilde stopped chanting and stared down at the bowl, then watched the smoke from the candles as it whipped away in the stormy sky. “The child is close. So is the person who took her. The child’s in a dark place below the ground. She’s scared and cries for her mama.”

Mathilde looked over at them. “The person you seek has a dark heart. The spirits cannot determine the intent for the child, but it’s not good.”

“Is she on the island?” Alex asked.

“No, and she’s never been here. The barrette was placed here by the evil man to divert suspicion.”

Suddenly, Mathilde froze, then pointed west. “Danger is coming. We must get to safety.” She grabbed the necklace from the altar, then waved Holt and Alex toward the boat. “You must leave. He’s coming.”

Despite the incredulity of the situation, something in the woman’s voice sent Holt into action. He pulled Alex toward the dock with one hand, while yanking the boat keys from his pocket with the other. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the bayou, and thunder rolled across the sky, echoing across the water.

“Hurry!” Mathilde yelled, as they ran for the dock.

“Too late.” Martin Rommel stepped out from a patch of marsh grass just to the side of the dock, holding a nine-millimeter.

Chapter Seventeen

He leveled the gun at them and stood directly in the path to the boat. “That little show the witch put on was quite interesting. Not very revealing, but then that’s the whole point of magic, right? Leaving everything open to interpretation so that you’re always right.”

“She knew you were here,” Alex said.

“A little too late,” Rommel said and motioned to Holt. “Remove your gun from your waist and toss it over here. Nice and slow, or your girlfriend takes a bullet to the head.”

Alex saw the muscles in Holt’s jaw clench as he removed his pistol and tossed it at Rommel’s feet. She had Ms. Maude’s pistol tucked in the back waistband of her jeans. If only Rommel didn’t realize she was armed, they may have a chance.

“You too, honey,” he directed Alex. “Slow and gentle—give me that nine-millimeter.”

Deflated, she pulled the nine-millimeter from her waistband and tossed it on the ground in front of Rommel, certain that they’d just lost their last chance at getting away.

“Is my niece still alive?” Alex asked, determined to know no matter the outcome.

“Yes.”

“Why? Why would you kidnap a child? Are you some sort of pervert?”

Rommel gave her a disgusted look. “Of course not. She’ll be sold to a Russian family next week, and will likely make a very beautiful slave.”

“I guess even a murderer has standards,” Holt said.

Rommel smiled. “You should know. After all, soldiers are merely killers with permission. It’s all business, after all.”

“Kidnapping little girls is hardly the same as fighting a war against terrorists,” Alex said. “Only a person with no morals would compare the two.”

“Morals?” Rommel laughed. “The last time I checked, morals didn’t make one rich. My boss had a problem with your niece, so I eliminated the problem. It’s a business transaction. That’s all.”

“What kind of person has a problem with a child?” Alex asked. “Your boss is a sick man.”

“Most certainly, but the pay is extraordinary.” Rommel waved his pistol at Mathilde. “Move over closer to the other two so I can get this over with. I don’t feel like getting caught out here in the storm.”

Mathilde didn’t move and when Alex looked over, she realized the woman’s eyes were closed and her lips were moving. Whether she was praying or chanting, Alex couldn’t say, but all of a sudden, the wind picked up speed.

“Now!” Rommel yelled at Mathilde as dark clouds started moving over the moon.

The light in the clearing began to dissipate from the outside in, leaving a smaller and smaller area of light. Alex glanced over at Holt, so many things racing through her mind that she wished she could say, but the only thing that mattered now was staying alive. Holt gave her a barely imperceptible nod, and she knew he was thinking what she was. As soon as the light was gone, they were going to make a break for it.

Alex hoped Mathilde would come to the same conclusion, but the woman’s eyes were clenched tight. Silently, she willed Mathilde to open her eyes before the slim opportunity they had to get away disappeared completely.

Suddenly, Mathilde opened her eyes and flung the necklace she held out into the bayou. That action was all it took to make Rommel fire, but at the same time, Mathilde dove into the deep brush of the swamp, seeming to defy her age and gravity with her leap.

Before Alex could even spin around to run, a giant surge of water rose from the bank and Grand launched from the bayou, grabbing Rommel in his giant jaws. Rommel screamed and pounded on the giant reptile with his hands, his gun lost during the attack. Alex watched in horror as the alligator shook the man back and forth and a loud crack echoed across the clearing. Rommel went limp and Alex knew his neck was broken. The alligator immediately backed into the water, dragging his prize down in the murky depths.

The sound of Mathilde thrashing about in the brush brought Alex out of her trance, and she and Holt hurried over to help the woman up. She had scratches on her face and hands from the brush, but Alex was relieved to see that she hadn’t been shot.

“Are you all right?” Alex asked.

“I guess I’m not in as good a shape as I thought,” Mathilde said ruefully, as Alex helped steady her, “but I’m alive. That’s a sight better than I can say for him.” She motioned to the bayou then looked over at Holt. “I thought you was checking up on him?”

“I am…was,” Holt replied. “I had someone watching him this morning. He was at the restaurant when we left.”

“Then how’d he come to know where we were?”

“She’s right,” Alex said. “Rommel couldn’t have followed us, so how did he know where we were? The only person I told was Sarah, and she wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“I ain’t got no one to tell,” Mathilde said, “and wouldn’t have besides.”

They both looked at Holt. “I only told the state trooper shadowing Rommel. If something happened, he needed to know we couldn’t be reached.”

“But he wouldn’t tell anyone, would he?” Alex asked.

“He’s not even from Vodoun,” Holt said.

He frowned and stared out across the bayou, then his face contorted with rage. “But if Jasper called in, the trooper would have told him. He had no reason not to.”

“You can’t really think…” Alex gasped. “Someone above reproach.”

“I don’t know anything for certain, but you can bet we’re going to find out.” Holt ran to the boat and lifted the rope from the pylon.

“Are you okay here?” Alex asked Mathilde.

“Of course,” Mathilde replied. “You go find that little girl, and then you come back and tell me.”

“I promise,” Alex said.

* * *

H
OLT THREW THE RENTAL CAR
in drive and tore away from his cabin, tires spinning on the dirt road. He had no idea what he was going to say to his uncle, but he’d figure it out when he got there. His mind was still reeling from the revelation that Jasper had to be the source of the information. He hadn’t yet come to grips with the fact that his uncle might actually be the guilty party, and even as little as he liked the man, he didn’t want to believe him capable of all that had happened.

But it fit. His uncle would have known Rommel through his mother, and he wouldn’t question the man’s lack of identity if he was using him to carry out his own nefarious plans. But why? What could he possibly gain from kidnapping a child?

Holt could feel Alex’s gaze on him, and he knew she was worried about what he’d do when they reached his uncle’s house. If he could reassure her, he would, but he wasn’t about to offer any promises he might not be able to keep. If Jasper was responsible for all this horror, Holt wasn’t sure how he was going to react.

His uncle’s house was only a couple of miles from his cabin where they docked the boat, and he made the drive in no time, screeching to a stop in the driveway. The lights were on in the living room and he could see the television flickering through the open blinds. His uncle was slouched on a recliner in the corner. Could he really be so relaxed if he’d sent a man to kill them?

Before he could open the car door, Alex placed her hand on his arm. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“You mean like find out where the hell Erika is?”

Alex bit her lip. “No, I want to know where Erika is, I just don’t want you to get in trouble doing it. Or shot. If your uncle was paying Rommel for his dirty work, he’s not going down without a fight once he sees we’re alive.”

“That broken leg of his puts him at a disadvantage. I will try reasoning first, but one way or another, he’s going to answer every question I ask.”

Holt pushed the car door open and stalked to the front door. He pounded on the door, yelling out, “It’s Holt. Open up.”

“It’s unlocked,” Jasper yelled back.

“Be careful,” Alex said. “He may have a gun.”

Holt nodded then pushed the door open and stepped inside. His uncle didn’t make an effort to move, and Holt was relieved to see that the only thing he clutched in his hand was a beer. He looked a little confused at Holt’s presence but didn’t seem surprised or alarmed. Surely, if he’d hired Rommel, he’d be shocked that they were standing in his living room.

“What in the world has got you ruffled this late at night?” Jasper asked.

“I ran into some problems on the island.”

Jasper shook his head. “I told you that woman was crazy. Floored me when that trooper told me you were taking her back there. The sheriff’s department is not a taxi service. Any of the fishermen could have dropped her off.”

“It wasn’t Mathilde that was the problem. It was Martin Rommel.”

Sheriff Conroy frowned, clearly confused. “What does Rommel have to do with any of it?”

Holt stared directly at his uncle, watching him closely before he said, “He tried to kill us tonight on the island.”

Jasper sat straight up in his chair, the look of shock on his face so genuine that Holt didn’t believe he was faking.

“What?”

“Rommel showed up and said he worked for the person who had Erika kidnapped. He said his ‘boss’ insisted that Alex and I had to die. Apparently, we were getting too close in our investigation.”