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Blue Diablo

Page 25

   



“If what you said about Saldana is true, only the gifted have access to this site.” He didn’t sound jealous, just quiet and remote.
I’ve heard that tone more than once over the years, and I used to think it signified indifference. Now I wondered if he withdrew when he anticipated being hurt, distance to avoid vulnerability. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought. God, I refused to face the idea that I might’ve run from him because I was afraid.
We don’t have time for this. Min’s clock might be winding down.
“Yeah.”
I ripped the page off the yellow legal pad and went back to the kitchen. By this time, Chuch and Jesse had finished their dessert and looked like they were just waiting on the fun to begin. Taking stock, I decided the kitchen table would do, even though it had a glass top, not wood, but evidently the round shape was good. We needed six candles and—
“So,” I said aloud, “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“Bad,” Eva said promptly. “The good should smooth it over afterward.”
“Fair enough. According to Madame Claudine, we need one more person to do this or two of us should leave. The number of people involved in a séance should always be divisible by three.”
“What? Why?” Chuch protested. “That’s crazy. There were about fifty people running around when my tia Rosario—”
“You sure it wasn’t fifty-one?” I raised a brow.
“No, he’s not.” Eva frowned at her husband. “Three is a sacred number. Even I know that. The Power of Three is the highest connection to the Creator, the Holy Trinity, all that. You ever look at a Star of David? It’s all triangles.”
The way Jesse smiled at me as he stood, I knew he meant to start trouble. “I’ll take Corine to the movies. Let us know how it goes.”
Raising the Dead
“No,” Eva said at once. “I’m sure I can get somebody over here. We need another woman to balance us out. What’s the good news?”
“Well, otherwise we seem to be set. We have the table”—I rapped on the glass top—“but we need some fresh bread or warm soup as an offering to the recently deceased. Apparently minestrone is best. Do you have any?”
In her message, Madame Claudine went on at length about the best soups. If there was no minestrone, then chicken noodle would do. Under no circumstances should we ever offer a spirit cream of mushroom. I didn’t take time to ask why. She also included a list of breads, which must be fresh. Apparently spirits don’t take kindly to sourdough either.
“Hm . . .” Eva went to the cupboards, rummaged, and then produced a can of Progresso with a triumphant air. “Will this do? I’m not making homemade for a dead lady. No offense, Officer Saldana. I’m sure she was a lovely person.”
“None taken.” Jesse eyed me up and down as if wondering whether we were all crazy. We might be. Maybe the movies would’ve been a better bet, except I wouldn’t go off with a guy I suspected might have whacked his ex.
“We’ll also need candles.” Chance glanced up from perusing the notes from Madame Claudine’s list. “Six—one for each of us, since we’re using the Power of Three.”
“We have some bug repelling ones from the last barbeque,” Chuch put in. “They’re citronella, though, so they’re kind of stinky.”
I sighed. “Go get them. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“They can,” Chuch said, heading for the garage. “They’ll just be hungry beggars.”
“Hey!” Eva hurried after him, soup still in hand. “What about your cousin Dolores? She used to be into crystals, right?”
“Forget the séance part. Tell her you have ice cream—she’ll come.”
As she went to look for the woman’s phone number, Eva muttered, “Cabrón.”
I gave Saldana a look.
“What?” Jesse spread his hands, palms up. “I would’ve shown you a good time.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Did you bring it?” Whatever it was. Damn, it was hard to keep my emotions on an even keel. He’d pick it up if I didn’t.
“Sure did.” He patted his jeans pocket. “It should do the trick.”
“It’s not medicine, I hope. I’m not sure a prescription is personal enough.”
At that he choked. “Oh, it doesn’t get much more personal.”
After Eva made her call, we set up. First a warm bowl of soup centered on the table, and then the candles ringed around it. We argued about whether we should light more, as Madame Claudine said spirits crave light and warmth, but I couldn’t stand the smell. In fact I had to crack a window just to tolerate the six we had. We scrounged two folding chairs from the garage, and it looked like we were ready.
Dolores arrived within fifteen minutes and came in without knocking.
“Buenas noches!” I expected a big woman, based on Chuch’s joke, but she looked like she had a tapeworm, all bones, angles, and jutting nose. She wore ten pounds in bangles and scarves, another ten in jewelry. I’d never seen a woman sporting twelve rings before and tried not to stare.
She made the rounds, kissing all the men soundly. I thought she spent entirely too long hugging Chance, who gave me a half smile over her thin shoulders. Then she smushed Chuch’s face between her palms and called him her primo gordito.
“It’s muscle.” Chuch pushed her away and tugged his shirt down over his belly.
“Right, Sancho.” His cousin exchanged a glance with Eva and laughed, flashing crooked white teeth. “So we’re all set? Let’s do this. I haven’t been to one of these since we summoned Tio Juan to ask if he meant to leave all his money to that floozy he married.”
“Did he?” Sometimes I just had to ask.
“Sí.” Dolores sighed. “She was a good floozy.”
All business, Eva switched off the overhead light. It was full dark outside, so shadows danced on the far wall and six tiny twin flames flickered on the tabletop, giving it an oddly ethereal air.
Seeing we were ready, I sat on Chuch’s left. Chance took a seat on my other side, and Eva dropped down next to him. Jesse and Dolores sat so that we alternated the man-woman pattern.
“According to this”—I squinted at the notes I’d made—“we need to join hands. Who’s leading this thing?”
“You.” Chuch grinned at me. “You have the instructions.”
“Okay, but . . .” I hesitated. “Madame Claudine also said never to have more than one sensitive present. Things can easily get out of hand if the spirits have too much power to feed from. I’m a handler—does that count?”
“I’m an empath,” Saldana added.
He gained points for trusting my friends with the information, but maybe he’d done it for exactly that reason? Act like you have nothing to hide—
I snipped that thought before I could reveal my agitation to the cop sitting across from me. Nobody seemed to know whether those combined gifts would overload Maris and turn her into a banshee, however. I didn’t want to delay the process by waiting for another message from Madame Claudine.
Finally Dolores said, “Let’s just get on with it. Eva said we’re having ice cream after we do this.”
What the hell.
“Jesse, do you have the focus?”
With a nod, he dug into his pocket and reached across Dolores to drop something in Chuch’s hand. “Here you go.”
The mechanic peered at it and then flipped it away from him. It hit the table, bounced, and nearly went into the sacred soup. “Are you kidding me, primo? I’m not touching that.”
“Why, what is it?” I leaned for a closer look and saw everyone else do the same. “Her diaphragm? You brought her diaphragm to a séance?”
In the dark it was hard to tell who snickered loudest.
Saldana glared at me. “That’s what she left at my place, okay? Do you want my help or not?”
“Fine.” A look at Chuch confirmed he did not intend to pick up the latex cap for love or money. “Maybe just having it here will be enough. Jesse, you knew her best, so try to form a mental picture of her. Let’s join hands.” When we formed the circle, I murmured, “Now that six are one, let none falter until all is said and done. Dear Maris, we offer you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Maris, and move among us.”
The candles flickered the first time I said her name. A cool wind poured through the open kitchen window, and I motioned for them to repeat the chant with me. We spoke it softly seven times and then Chuch twitched violently to the right. His hand almost pulled from mine, but I held on. Madame Claudine had been vehement on that point. The circle must not be broken until the séance ended.
Or it would get ugly.
He opened his mouth and a soft, pretty soprano voice spilled forth. “That’s not mine! You bastard!” Chuch glared at Jesse, looked as if he might claw his eyes out. The sight of such purely feminine outrage on the mechanic’s rough features sent a chill coursing through me.
“Maris?” Saldana seemed astonished that this had worked. I was too, actually. “What’s not yours?”
“That!” The diaphragm did bounce off the table and into the soup then. And then the whole bowl upended into Jesse’s lap. “I never used one of those. I was on the pill, you pig! You called me here with something that belonged to one of your other whores?”
I cringed. Maris wasn’t in any mood to answer our questions to say the least. Knives on the kitchen counter rattled ominously. Shit. I needed to shut this thing down before she killed him. Leaning forward, I tried to make out my notes. Why didn’t I memorize this?
“Are you sure?” Only a cop would argue with a deranged and vengeful spirit.
“Of course I’m sure, you ass. Oh, you’re going to pay for this. Every one of you is going to pay. They ripped me apart!” Chuch’s face contorted as if in memory of the pain.
“Who did?” Chance asked quietly. If anyone could salvage this mess, he could, so I held my tongue for a moment, ready to start the banishment process if things got worse.
“Shadows,” Maris said in a little girl voice. “Shadows with teeth and claws that burned like fire. I’m so cold.” Chuch tried to put his hand over the candles and I moved with him, but I didn’t let go.
“Do you know who sent them?” I hadn’t expected Dolores to contribute anything of note, so I raised my estimate of her a notch.
“Yes, I—” And then Chuch went rigid, screaming like a woman. His back arched and he almost flipped his chair, writhing in unspeakable agony.
“Do something,” Eva pleaded. “It looks like she’s killing him.”
Terror chilled me and I almost couldn’t remember the words. If anything happened to him, Eva would murder me.
“Our time is done, we break our bonds, six no longer one. We bid you go in peace,” I said quickly. “Go in peace, Maris.”