The Keepers

Page 23

Fiona hesitated, but it was probably all going to come out eventually, and she felt she owed it to her sisters to be completely honest.
"Billy Harrington--you remember him from the meeting? The college student? He had just started working the night shift at the morgue. They knew each other. In fact, they were madly in love with each other, though neither one had had the guts to tell the other. Anyway, he was willing to fight for her."
"So? You didn't back down from a fight. I know you," Shauna said.
"No. But he offered to do it for her, and we chose to respect his...feelings. Besides, think about it. She was raised by nuns. She's a good kid, with a good soul and I believe in the existence of the soul."
Shauna looked as if she were about to speak, but just then Caitlin and Mrs. Vickery, her client, came from the back room into the shop proper.
"My dear, you are the most insightful reader I have ever met," Mrs. Vickery was saying. She was one of those people who seemed to have been sent into the world just to make it pleasant. She was about sixty, gray hair always coiffed, plump figure attractively attired. She loved children and animals, and was active in the community, constantly giving to others. She was always smiling, and she always came with her tiny Papillon in a designer bag. The dog was as sweet as her owner. Her hairy little head popped out the top of the bag as they neared the counter.
"Thank you," Caitlin said.
Mrs. Vickery smiled at Fiona and Caitlin. "Your sister is so wise. She sees what others don't." She looked down fondly at her dog. "I will find a mate for my little Mrs. Beasley here," she said, delighted.
Caitlin laughed softly. "You didn't need a tarot reader to tell you that, Mrs. Vickery. "You're going to find a mate for Mrs. Beasley because you're so determined."
Mrs. Vickery flushed happily. "Well, yes, there's that, too. Fiona, dear, one day next week, would you read the tea leaves for me? They tend to show such different possibilities."
"Of course. I'll fit you in wherever you like," Fiona assured her.
"I've just been so worried lately," Mrs. Vickery said.
"And," she added, looking at Shauna, "I'm looking forward to another palm reading, young lady."
"I'll give you a freebie right now," Shauna said, taking the older woman's hand. A look of concern briefly crossed her face, and she seemed to force a smile. "See this little line? It's new. It means that you're going in a new direction with a pet project, that you're going to do well, and others will embrace your ideas."
"Oh, how lovely. And it is a 'pet' project," Mrs. Vickery said. "I have a friend who owns one of those old plantations who's agreed to open up the old kennels as a shelter where no animal will ever be put to sleep."
"That's wonderful," Fiona approved.
"And it's so reassuring to know others will embrace the idea," Mrs. Vickery said happily.
"Kindness begets kindness," Fiona said.
Mrs. Vickery flushed. "Well, I inherited a fortune. In all honesty, with so much money at my disposal, I owe it to others to help them, at least in my own mind."
"It's a beautiful mind," Fiona assured her.
"I do worry these days," Mrs. Vickery said. "All this horrible business with women being killed, their bodies drained. And now that second girl's body was stolen. What on earth have we come to? I bet it's those cultists in the old Brewer mansion."
"What?" Fiona asked sharply.
"There's a group of so-called vampires living in Uptown, in the Brewer mansion. Can you believe it? They were in a documentary that aired just the other night! If the police don't deal with them, I'm sure someone will," she said knowingly.
Fiona groaned inwardly. Great. Just what they needed at a time like this.
"They're probably just a group of confused kids," Caitlin said reassuringly, glancing over at Fiona.
Mrs. Vickery sighed softly. "All I know is that too many frightening things are happening. And I'm having dreams. I saw a girl turning into a vampire--a real one, like in the movies--and walking down the street naked." She gave an exaggerated shudder. "Well, we'd best get going, my little one and I. Next week, girls."
As soon as the woman had left the store, Shauna turned to Fiona. "A dream, huh?"
Fiona frowned and asked, "What did you really see in her palm?"
"Probably the same thing I read in her cards," Caitlin said.
"What was that?" Fiona asked sharply.
"She's in danger," Caitlin said.
Fiona's heart sank. She hadn't realized that Mrs. Vickery was the woman on the street when she had been trying to corral Abigail back into Jagger's house.
"You...you didn't see her death, did you?" she asked.
"A jagged line," Shauna said.
"Danger--that could lead to death," Caitlin told her.
Fiona groaned aloud. "All right, I've got to get going. I need to see what's going on with that cult. Listen for your cell phones. I might need help at any time."
As she grabbed her bag, Shauna went over to the computer and logged onto a local news site.
"Hey!"
Shauna called, and turned up the volume.
Fiona and Caitlin ran to join her.
Jagger was speaking to the press, and Fiona's heart practically stopped. How was he going to explain things to the public when he didn't know who the killer was but he did know what.
And when that "what" wasn't human...
"It's unfortunate for our city that a certain documentary that was shown recently seems to have put some strange ideas in people's heads. Only concrete evidence can lead us to the perpetrator of these heinous crimes, and the police are working diligently to find that evidence," Jagger assured the media.
"But this group claims to drink blood!" one of the newscasters shouted.
"Claiming and doing are two different things," Jagger pointed out. "Listen, please. Protecting these people from a potential lynch mob is costing us police man hours. I'm begging the public to work with us, not against us."
"What about the corpse that was stolen?" another reporter asked, thrusting a microphone closer to Jagger.
"The police are investigating that, as well, I assure you. All I'm asking is that you and everyone in this city stay calm and help us do our work. Don't become an accusing mob, and do inform us if you see anything out of the ordinary, anything that looks dangerous. The police are trying to help the city, and we ask that you all do the same. And now I thank you for your attention, but you'll have to excuse me. I'm needed on the streets."
Jagger walked away, followed by a barrage of questions, but he was firm, politely lifting a hand until he could make it to his car. Fiona saw that his partner was waiting behind the wheel as Jagger slipped into the passenger seat.
The press conference was definitely over.
"I've got to get moving," Fiona said, and hurried out of the store.
"Wait," Caitlin said. "Shauna, cover for us, please. Fiona, I don't want you going alone. I'm coming with you."
Jagger and Tony drew up in front of the cult house. Sean O'Casey--the world's largest leprechaun--was partnered with shapeshifter Michael Shrine as part of the task force that had been assembled to deal with the murders and the possible rise of violence in the city. They were parked by the entry to the cult house.
Michael Shrine, six feet four of muscle in his human form, was leaning against one side of the car. Sean O'Casey, stretched to his top height of an amazing six even, was just as implacably entrenched on the other side of the car, arms crossed over his chest.
Both men looked grim.
Jagger didn't blame them.
There wasn't a city employee who wasn't worried about the possibility of violence. Of course, most of them were worried that human beings--Baptist, Catholic, nondenominational Christian, Jewish, Hindu, atheist, alien-worshipping or even run-of-the-mill New Orleans voodoo practitioners--would attack other human beings.
Those who haunted the city's underground knew that the situation might be far worse.
"Any trouble?" Jagger asked, approaching the car, with Tony a step behind.
"Well, a truckload of high school kids went by--looked as if they were going to hurl eggs, but they saw us and drove on by," Shrine said.
"Then there was the crazy woman," O'Casey told them. "And her crazy followers."
"What? Who?" Tony asked.
Sean shook his head. "Skinny woman, walked from that way--" he pointed "--to get here, had about ten people behind her. They were all carrying Bibles and saying that disbelievers would burn in hell."
"Scarier than our would-be vampires, if you ask me," Shrine said.
"Fanatics are always scary," Jagger said. "But no one attempted to go to the house, or attack the residents in any way?"
"Not yet. No one in, no one out," Shrine assured him.
"Thanks," Jagger said. He started toward the front door, then turned around so quickly that Tony almost crashed into him.
"Go on, I'll be right along," he told Tony.
Tony headed for the door as Jagger walked back to Sean O'Casey. "How the hell did you get to be so tall?" he asked.
Sean O'Casey shrugged. "Must be the hormones in the milk over here. I've two brothers back home who aren't a full four feet. And my sisters are tiny little things."
Jagger grinned, asked the two of them to be sure to write up full descriptions of everyone who'd come by, then thanked them again and headed back to the door.
Tony had already knocked.
A woman with dyed black hair opened the door.
She was wearing a black dress and looked like a younger Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.
"Hello. I'm Detective Jagger DeFarge, and this is my partner, Detective Tony Miro. We'd like to talk to you and your...group for a few minutes, if we could."