Deadly Curiosities (16 page)

Just wait until word of a serial killer gets out if you want to see slow,
a little voice nagged in my head, but I resolutely ignored it.

“How was the Charleston City Market?” Teag asked with a knowing glance. I sighed. He knows me too well. “Who says I went to the Market?” I bluffed.

Teag cocked his head and rolled his eyes. “I know what your errands are like. They include a stroll through the Charleston City Market and a visit to Honeysuckle Café.”

“Guilty as charged,” I said with a sigh. I had bolstered my morning latte with several cups of coffee from the coffee maker in the back room, but the last of my cup was cold. “I did pick up some info, so it almost counts as work.”

I filled Teag in on what I’d heard from Rick, and then told him about Hat Man and Mrs. Teller. Then I pulled the bottle with the kufwa dust and clay dirt in it and held it up. “I don’t know if Sorren and his friends can make anything out of this, but Mrs. Teller thought we could jinx him at least.”

“I’m more interested in what you saw when you touched him,” Teag said with a pointed glance.

I had been avoiding thinking about that. “Nothing good,” I replied, sipping the last of my now-cold latte. “Not right,” I said slowly, trying to wrap words around the images in my mind. “Polluted. Foul. Not really dead but… putrefying on the inside, if that makes any sense.”

“Have you ever gotten a read from Sorren? How did it compare since Sorren is, well, dead.”

Undead.
“I’ve only had a couple of glimpses of Sorren, and it’s not the same at all. He doesn’t feel dead, not like a real dead person,” I said, feeling like the English language was not built for this. “He feels ancient, sad. I get bits of stories jumbled together.” I shook my head. “Moran was more like rotting meat.”

“Yuck,” Teag said with a grimace. “I’ve got Anthony doing some digging and he promised to call when he wraps up work.” He gave a nervous grin. “And I’m flexing my Weaver talents to see what I can shake loose from the Internet.”

I nodded. “And whenever Sorren surfaces, we’ve got some news for him that he isn’t going to like.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally closed up for the night. Teag walked me to the bank to make the deposit. At first glance, he may look like a skateboarder, but I knew he had just won a national competition in Capoeira, a Brazilian style of fighting, after already mastering several other mixed martial arts. He’d competed at the international tournament level for Eskrima, a weapons-based Filipino fighting style, and he was also an instructor in several forms, which is where we met. Teag was my instructor before he became my assistant manager.

Teag told me once that he had been bullied in school for being gay and decided he wasn’t going to take another thrashing. I was sorry for his reason to want self-defense skills, but knowing how to defend himself was one more way he seemed perfect for the job.

Teag said Anthony would join us for dinner, so we headed over to Viva Venice, the best little Italian restaurant this side of Broad Street. I waved at Fioretto, the owner, and pointed toward the back. He nodded, and motioned for one of his servers to escort us to the rear-most table, where we could speak without interruption.

“How are some of my favorite customers?” Fioretto asked, stopping by the table. He was a short, wiry man with bright eyes and a thick head of dark hair.

“In the mood for some good food,” I replied.

Fioretto beamed. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Do you want the usual?”

Teag and I both nodded, and let Fioretto know that Anthony would be joining us.Knowing Anthony could be late, Teag and I dove into our food, and held off discussion until Anthony joined us so we didn’t have to repeat ourselves. Fioretto’s food was so good I could even approve of Teag’s favorite, a pizza with anchovies, sweet peppers, and capers.

“What did I miss?” Anthony said, sliding into the seat next to Teag, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He set his jacket and tie aside, but it was clear from his slightly rumpled shirt and creased slacks that he had just come from a long day at the office.

“Nothing but the view of us stuffing our faces,” I replied, dabbing a bit of sauce from my lips. “We pre ordered for you.” “Same old, same old,” Anthony joked, and Teag gave him a friendly poke in the ribs.

Fioretto must have spotted Anthony, because his food came out at the same time the server refreshed our sodas. While he ate, Teag and I made small talk, mostly about the horde of shoppers who descended on Trifles and Folly with their credit cards at the ready. Anthony wasn’t in retail, but he certainly understood the benefit of having a lot of clients, so he nodded at the appropriate places while he polished off his food.

When the plates were cleared, the server brought us all cups of Fioretto’s excellent Venetian coffee along with the light, crispy lemon cookies that were a house specialty.

I drew a deep breath, and launched into a recount of what had transpired at the Charleston City Market with Mrs. Teller. I finished with the news Rick had shared at the café.

On that note, Teag and I both looked expectantly at Anthony. He adjusted his collar, a mannerism I learned long ago meant that he was trying to decide how much he could share of what he knew.

“If I didn’t think that your haunted objects might help solve the murders, I wouldn’t tell you anything,”

he said, with an affectionate glower that was meant to be stern. “It’s an ongoing police investigation, so you can’t blab anything I share.”

Teag rolled his eyes. “We don’t blab.”

I held up my hands, palms out. “Absolute blab-free zone.”

Anthony sighed and shook his head. “Okay, here’s the scoop. The cops found another body by the old Navy yard. Dead, no sign of theft.”

“Natural causes?” I speculated. “Heart attack?”

Anthony shook his head. “Definitely not natural causes. Body was ripped apart. Pretty savage. They’re still trying to figure out what it would take to be able to do that in an alley.” He made a face. “Think ‘mauled by a pack of hungry tigers’ and that still doesn’t do it justice.” “Could they even identify who he was?” I asked.

Anthony nodded. “His wallet was nearby. Empty, but I don’t think he had anything in it to start with.

Like the other dead men, he had a record of petty crime: looting, theft, illegal betting, that sort of thing.

They think he owed the wrong people money.”

Teag frowned. “Did the dead man put up a fight? Any evidence of the attacker? DNA, hair, clothing, blood, footprints, anything?”

Anthony shook his head. “Not that they’ve been able to identify yet. That’s what’s started the rumors about monsters and black magic. It just doesn’t add up.”

Teag and I exchanged a glance. “It doesn’t – unless there’s some bad magic going on,” I replied. That was Sorren’s area of expertise, and I was antsy to find out what he had learned from his sources.

“There is one more thing,” Anthony said. “On a hunch, I called an old friend who heads up the cold case files. He said that the recent murders got him thinking, so he started to dig up other unsolved killings.”

“Did he find anything?” Teag asked, leaning forward, looking utterly innocent.

Anthony nodded. “Charleston doesn’t have a huge murder rate. Of the murders that happen each year, if you took out disputes related to criminal activity and domestic violence, the number of truly ‘random’ murders are pretty few.”

“Meaning?” Teag pressed.

“Meaning that he turned up three more deaths that couldn’t be explained away by a drug deal gone bad, for instance, or a love affair gone wrong, deaths where the bodies were mutilated in some way.”

He paused. “Two of the bodies were found near the old Navy yard. They aren’t included in the count for the more recent killings.”

“I can see why that would look like a serial killer,” I mused. “Similar locations, similar type of victim, and a similar style of death.” I tilted my head, thinking, and then looked at Anthony. “These old deaths – how far back did they go?”

Anthony shifted in his seat. “The oldest one was a little more than six months ago.”

A thought occurred to me. “Anthony,” I said slowly as the idea worked itself out in my mind, “did you get any idea of the pacing of the deaths? I mean, are they happening closer together now than before?”

He nodded. “I hear that’s what’s got the cops so spooked,” he said, then realized his own unintentional pun. “Sorry. Bad word choice. They’re worried that whoever – or whatever – is behind the deaths has a new sense of urgency, and might be working up to something big, like a bombing or a mass shooting.”

“The cops don’t think in terms of the kind of stuff we saw at Gardenia Landing,” Teag said with a glance toward Anthony. “They might joke about it, but if we tried to actually tell them there was a demon involved, they’d send us to the loony bin.”

“Recommend you for psychological evaluation,” Anthony corrected with a sigh. “Not very PC of you.”

Teag rolled his eyes, but I jumped in. “Moran’s got something to do with this, and in the past, he tried to call a demon. So odds are, there’s a demon involved again, and Moran or whoever raised it is trying to harness power through the deaths.”

Anthony’s expression grew grim. “And if you’re right, and nothing makes it stop, it’s going to be worse than a bomb or a shooting, isn’t it?” I nodded, feeling a sudden chill down my spine. “I’m afraid so. Much worse.”

I
TOOK IT
easy on Friday, figuring I deserved a little R&R. By the time I packed my bags the following day to leave Gardenia Landing, I felt a little wistful. I now counted Rebecca as a friend, and was utterly charmed by the inn. Picking up Baxter from the puppy spa was a chaotic reunion. Baxter just about wagged out of his silky white fur to see me, and the staff assured me Baxter had been a good boarder.

Since it was Saturday, he came to the shop with me. Fortunately, things were uneventful.

Teag insisted on helping me move Baxter and my suitcases into the house. “Anthony and I are considering having the floors done at his place, too. He told me I had to see what kind of job the refinishers did,” he said with a shrug. I figured it was his cover story so I wouldn’t mind him making sure I got home safely.

We reached my house just after sunset. Teag grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and I took my purse and Baxter’s kennel from the backseat. I paused for a moment before heading up the steps to the piazza.

“Something wrong?” Teag asked, picking up on my hesitation.

I shrugged. “Have you ever just been able to feel that someone else has been in your house?” I asked.

“I mean, I hired them to come, I saw them working, so it’s not exactly a surprise. But still –”

“Someone’s been in your private space,” Teag finished for me. I nodded.

I opened the door, expecting to be bowled over by the smell of polyurethane. I was pleasantly surprised to find that while the smell was strong it was bearable, and the floors looked fantastic.

“Wow,” Teag said. “They did a great job.”

Teag set down the suitcase as I put Baxter’s kennel on the floor and opened its door. “I promised Anthony I’d help you do a walk through before I left, just in case,” Teag said. I was just about to protest when Baxter began a deep-throated growl.

“I’ve already made a complete check. The house is secure.” Sorren said as he stepped from the shadows, coming from the direction of the kitchen.

Baxter went ballistic. Maltese are small in stature, but inside, Bax has the heart of a Mastiff. He barked and growled, sensitive to the supernatural.

Sorren regarded Baxter with affectionate resignation. He knelt down and looked right at Baxter. “What a good dog,” Sorren said in a calm voice. “A good protector. But you remember me. I’m your friend.”

Immediately, Baxter stopped in his tracks, sat down and began to wag his tail, with a happy expression that looked a little loopy. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Sorren using his vampire mojo on my dog.

He can’t glamor me (and he says he wouldn’t as a matter of honor), but glamoring Baxter doesn’t seem to bother his conscience one whit.

“That’s cheating.”

Sorren shrugged. “In my mortal days, many a dog got a piece of me – or nearly did – as I made it over a fence. Since I learned to make friends, it goes better for both of us.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked, with a nod toward the rest of the house.

“Inside, yes. I sense no one except the workmen have been here, which is as it should be. But outside...”

“What?” I asked, feeling fear rise in my throat.

“There is a residue of something supernatural and... unhealthy.”

“Unhealthy how?” Teag asked. He had unconsciously fallen into a defensive pose from his martial arts training. But if Sorren was concerned about a threat, even ninja moves weren’t enough.

“Bad magic. What people when I was alive called ‘bad night air’. A hint of evil,” Sorren replied.

I shivered. “How did it find me? And do you think it’s connected?”

Sorren frowned. “Yes, I think it’s related, but I don’t know how. All the more reason to take steps to make sure it causes no harm.”

“Is it Moran? The demon?” Teag asked.

Sorren shrugged. “Very possibly Moran. It may be that my arrival scared him off.”

“How do I cleanse it?” I asked.

Just then, there was a knock at my door. I looked to Sorren, but he just nodded. Obviously, he had been expecting someone.

“It’s Lucinda, the mambo I told you about,” he said. “Invite her in. That will grant permission for her to use her magic to project you.”

I’d had to do the same when Sorren first visited me. All those stories about vampires not being able to enter without permission are mostly true, it turns out. Mostly. Sorren gave me reason to suspect there are loopholes and technicalities if the vampire doesn’t want to be polite.

I went to the door. Baxter, still enthralled with Sorren, never moved, staring at my business partner with a look of slightly glazed admiration.

When I opened the door, I found a slim, vibrant looking woman with a mane of hundreds of tight braids and skin the color of espresso. She wore a simple white shift with a necklace made of onyx disks and carved ebony and she carried a large tote bag. If I had to guess her age, I’d have said mid-forties, but Sorren had taught me how much looks could be deceiving.