Beneath a Blood Red Moon Page 41



“I’m a cop. I’m always in danger.”


Marie shook her head. “You are an old soul, Lieutenant, a very old soul.”


“Now, Marie—”


“Hear me out, Lieutenant,” she said quietly, raising a bony hand. “We see that there is black, and there is white. There is night, and there is day. There is evil, and there is good, just the same, even if ‘evil’ is not always seen, nor can we always touch ‘good.’ There are forces in the city now; good and evil. There is a fight.”


He hesitated, not quite believing what he was about to ask. “Is Maggie Montgomery evil?” To his relief she shook her head. “But guard yourself! Guard yourself well. She is not what she seems.”


“Is she a voodoo?”


Marie smiled, as if she laughed inwardly. She shook her head. “Pay heed to the nights, Lieutenant.”


“Now, Marie—”


“There is nothing more I can tell you. There has always been gris-gris in this place. Magic. Good and evil. Guard yourself, take care. Look to the beast, and think of what weapons you will need. Open your mind. That is the most important. Legends are usually based on fact. You believe in God, Lieutenant, right?”


“Yes, I’m from an old Catholic family myself—”


“You don’t see Him, you don’t know Him, but you believe He exists. Faith is believing in what you cannot see. We think that faith is something shared by intelligent men. Then know that there is more in this world than we can see with the naked eyes, that we can find in what is known and accepted. The world is not flat; men have walked on the moon. All things are possible. Look to the earth, the sky, the night. The black and the white. Remember, the red that flows throughout veins is our life’s blood. And take this magic that I give you.”


She reached for his hand, her bony one clenched around something she held.


She dropped it into his palm, curling his fingers around it.


“I can’t just take something from you—” He began to protest. She was old. Maybe she was a voodoo quack—she still needed an income.


“You take this.”


“Come on, now, what do I owe you?”


After all, this could even be a con between Mamie Johnson and Marie. Mamie procured “escorts” for those who needed them; perhaps she procured magic as well for a cut of the proceeds.


“You owe me nothing. Nothing at all. It is a gift. Because there is darkness and light. Good and evil. You are good. I am good. And we are all one. That is what matters.” She studied his eyes intently, then she turned quickly away from him, hobbling over to a young couple going through her vials of scented love oils and lotions.


He shook his head. He already felt foolish. Listening to a voodoo! What the hell had she given him?


Some kind of a talisman, a rabbit’s foot, a chicken claw?


There was a cross in his hand. Nothing more occult than a cross, silver, about two inches in length, and strung from a long chain.


He smiled. Well, she had mentioned that those of French, Catholic, or Island descent bore her name.


He started to turn away, and walk through the scattered tourists.


“Lieutenant!”


He turned. Old Marie Lescarre had called him back.


“Wear it!” she urged him.


She was so sincere. He had to smile back at her, nod.


And slip the chain around his neck. She hadn’t given him some silly amulet. It was a cross. He could live with that. If it had been some kind of an amulet...


Well, he was a cop. Okay, and he had a bit of an ego-macho thing.


But a cross ...


Actually—and quite oddly—he had to admit that he did feel more secure wearing the thing. What the hell. Couldn’t hurt.


Leaving Jackson Square, he was surprised to find himself venturing toward Mamie’s place.


He ordered a Coke and a sandwich, and when Mamie came to sit at the bar next to him, she assured him that she hadn’t seen the man again.


“I don’t think he’ll come back here.”


Sean shrugged. “He may.”


“He’s surely seen his face in the newspapers.”


“But he may think himself too good to get caught. If so, he might want to show you his face again.


Challenge you. See if we can get to him fast enough. You’re not scared, are you?”


“Maybe. Just a little. Can you help me fast enough if he comes for me?” He chewed roast beef on wheat and smiled at her. “You’ve got cops here all the time now, you do know?”


“I suspected. You’re ruining my trade.”


“I’m a cop. I’m supposed to be arresting you for your trade, you know.” Mamie grinned. “Thank God my chef is good.”


“I saw your friend in Jackson Square.”


“You went to see Marie?”


He nodded. “You told her I was coming?”


Mamie shook her head. “No.”


He half smiled. “She knew me.”


“She’s voodoo.”


“Come on, Mamie.”


“There’s good, there’s evil. There’s religion, there’s hocus-hocus. All the same.” She sounded disturbingly like Marie. “Well, I’m wearing the cross she gave me, how’s that?”


“You’re going to need it,” Mamie assured him.


“A cross?”


Mamie nodded.


“Crosses scare away bad voodoo?”


“Now, boy, you had best learn to believe that there are forces beyond man. You want some garlic bread?”


He stared at her, frowning. “Mamie, I’m eating a roast beef sandwich.”


“Garlic bread would be good for you.”


“Mamie, I don’t want any garlic bread. I—”


“You should take her out tonight.”


“What?”


“Your girl. Take her out tonight. Nice Italian restaurant. Eat a lot of garlic.”


“Do you dislike Maggie, Mamie?”


“No, I like her just fine.”


“Then why do you want me to go spoiling a good relationship with breath to kill?” Mamie shook her head. “Like I said ...”


But she didn’t say. Her voice trailed away.


“Garlic?”


She shrugged.


“Mamie, we’ve been talking about good and evil. Voodoo. Now crosses and garlic. I saw lots of Hammer films with Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee when I was a kid. It’s starting to sound as if you think the city is infested with vampires.”


“Who are we to know?” Mamie asked innocently.


“Mamie, come on, we’re talking about a flesh and blood killer here. Don’t go getting sidetracked.” He slipped off his stool, reaching into his wallet for his money.


“On the house,” Mamie said.


“I think I should probably pay,” he said with a wink.


“Don’t pay me. It may be your last meal.”


He shook his head, leaning toward her, surprised that she was regarding him with such concern and affection. He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be okay. I’m wearing your friend’s cross.”


“Sure,” she said.


“Okay, now, Mamie, have some faith! I’m wearing Marie’s cross, right? I went to see a voodoo because you wanted me to.”


“Right. So?”


Mamie had nice eyes. Wide, dark brown with gold specks. “I want you to wear something for me.”


“What?”


He shrugged a bit sheepishly. “I got it from the FBI guy helping out down here. It’s a watch, but if you’re in trouble, you just push down on the face. It’s better than calling me, or paging me, or having anybody get me on the radio. It’s like a beeper, only it’s private, between you and me. You buzz, and it will vibrate on my end.”


Mamie laughed, delighted. “Oh, honey, I could buzz you and make things really vibrate, if you gave me half a chance. But then, you’re vibratin‘ enough as it is, aren’t you?” she demanded. “She’s something special, isn’t she? Your girl?”


“She’s different from anyone else, and that’s a fact.”


“Don’t go falling too deeply in love, Lieutenant,” Mamie warned.


“You keep your nose clean,” Sean warned her, leaving her at last. “Don’t forget, if you’re in trouble ...” Mamie grinned again. “I’ll be glad to buzz you, sir!” she said, and saluted playfully.


Leaving Mamie’s, Sean put in a call to Maggie’s office from his car. She was concerned, and wanted to know what had been happening. He told her that Callie was gone, and that Rutger had made no appearances to stop her from leaving. “Thankfully, he’s one bad penny that didn’t turn up again.”


“What happened at the morgue?”


“Oh, you know the morgue. It’s just full of dead bodies.”


“I know, but ...”


He liked the sound of her voice. He missed her. They’d only been apart a few hours, but he missed her.


Still, he suddenly felt that it was important to keep a certain distance from her.


Voodoo.


He didn’t believe in voodoo.


Of course, he’d often gone on gut feeling ...


“I’m going to be out kind of late tonight,” he told her.


“Oh.”


He hesitated, damning himself. “But then again, if you happen to be a night owl ...” A night owl. Hmm. The city crawled with night owls, people up at all hours. He grinned. Mamie was suggesting the city was filled with vampires along with voodoos. Well, they liked the night, didn’t they?


The murderer certainly did.


“Call me at any time,” Maggie said. “I mean it, Sean, any time.”


“Great,” he said.


“Sean?”


“Yeah?”


“I love you,” she said softly.


Everything inside him seemed to melt a little bit. “I love you, too.” He clicked off, and kept driving. He hadn’t even been sure at first where he was going, but he found himself on his way to Oakville Plantation. When he drove into the driveway, he saw that his father was sitting on the porch, slowly listing back and forth in the big old whitewashed swing.

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