Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (9 page)

“To warn you,
Mon Petite
. Something is amiss in the city.”

“Duh! You’re talking about the murders.”

“Yes, and more. Isabella the stars have aligned,” Marie replied.

“Yes, I know. I was preparing for the world to end.”

“Do not joke, Isabella.”

Why did everyone assume she wasn’t serious?

“Something evil is about to descend on our fair city...something so horrible it will put them into a fit of chaos. More people will die before this is over.” She paused. “Perhaps the world may come to an end yet.”

“What are you talking about? Who is going to create all this chaos?”

Marie’s image started to fade. “Someone from beyond this world.”

“That is very vague, Marie.”

“It is all I can tell you now. You must use your talents and natural abilities if you wish to succeed.” The image grew fainter until it was mist again. “Be careful—the unknown days are coming.” Then she was gone.

Isabella sank back on the pillow and sighed. She liked seeing Marie but the woman had laid some heavy news on her. Isabella was used to being awakened during the night by spirits and apparitions. It had been happening since she was born. She wished they wouldn’t be so vague with the word they brought. Okay, something was coming to destroy New Orleans and possibly the world and it had been dropped into her lap. Well, she was tired. Whatever it was would have to wait until tomorrow. Isabella closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Ten

Malcolm shook hands with everyone who came through the doors of Lincoln House on Royal Street. He had invited a small group, maybe two-hundred or less and everyone had arrived except Isabella Denning. He guessed she was being fashionably late.

The sibling Petres had arrived and were off in a corner entertaining guests who had a morbid fascination with the occult, and might find their line of work interesting. Chief Anthony Norris and his wife Myrtle were seated at a table with Oliver Randall and his wife Anne, and Ernest Malloy and his wife Myra had joined him.

The jazz band he’d hired was good and there were a few couples dancing up a storm on the floor. It was a jubilant night but the memories of the murders were still heavy on the minds of everyone.

A few more bodies had been discovered this morning and the mode of demise were similar to the others. People were disappearing and graves were being robbed of their inhabitants…a new twist. Malcolm hoped everything said about PAK was true because he had the feeling there was something about these murders that were strange…abnormally strange. He walked away from the door and went to join the people from PAK.

A young woman about twenty-five years old walked in and his heart literally stopped. She was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen—a toffee brown angel with a curvy body and long, black hair that curled gently around her face with the rest pulled up in a long French braid. Ernie Malloy stopped talking with his wife and waved to the young woman.

The black gown she wore was elegant and didn’t need any frills. It dipped modestly low in front, providing a peek at her ample cleavage and it fitted her like a glove. There were no tell-tale lines and Malcolm wondered where she could possible hide a weapon. She wore a small silver cross around her neck on a silver chain. This he noted as she drew nearer. In her ears were matching silver crosses.

Malcolm watched Ernie leave his wife’s side and escort the young woman over to the table.

“You spruce up real well,” Malcolm overheard Ernie tell her. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Isn’t this the first time I’ve seen you in a tux?” the young woman asked him. “Talk about me; look at you all dolled up, looking like a million bucks.”

“Hell, if I knew you had curves I would have left Myra a long time ago.”

“Liar,” the young woman said. “You would never leave Myra. She’d kill you first.”

Ernie chuckled. “Are you ready to meet the Mayor?” He took her arm and headed toward the end of the table.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Do I look okay?”

“You look better than okay. By the way are you packing anything besides big hips, boobs and butt?”

The young woman giggled. “I’ve got a derringer taped to my thigh, a switchblade in this pushup bra and a switchblade in sheaths on both sides of my thighs.”

“Expecting trouble?” Ernie asked.

“No, just being prepared,” she answered.

“Mayor Boudreaux, I would like to introduce you to Miss. Denning.

Miss Denning, this is Mayor Malcolm Boudreaux.”

“Call me Malcolm,” he told her still holding her hand.

“Then you can call me Isabella. All my friends do.”

Malcolm released her. “Then Isabella it shall be. You do know Chief Norris, Mrs. Malloy, and Doctor Randall, so I’ll introduce you to their charming wives.” He rattled off the other two women’s names.

Isabella shook their hands.

“You’ve got to tell me where you got that dress,” Myra Malloy said to her after Isabella sat down. “I’m going to have to have this baby first, and then Ernie better look out.”

Isabella winked at her and smiled. It made Malcolm’s heart skip a beat again. He signaled the band to play something. “May I have this dance, Isabella?” he asked.

“How can I refuse?” she asked with a smile.

* * * *

Isabella knew what the mayor of New Orleans looked like from the television, but this was the first time she’d seen him in person. She had to admit, Malcolm Boudreaux impressed her with his black tuxedo, royal blue vest and handsome face. He wasn’t bad on the dance floor either.

Isabella was glad she’d worn flat heels which made her and the mayor about the same height. Her stomach was doing one of those bubbling butterfly things as they danced slowly to the music. The others from the table had joined them so she didn’t feel a bit awkward. She was glad she kept up on the latest dance crazes and wouldn’t look like a complete idiot tonight. The music ended and Malcolm led her back to the table in time for the meal to be served.

The caterers served a delicious Caesar Salad first, which was her favorite. Accompanying it was thick crusty French bread and butter, followed by Jambalaya, crawfish bisque, blackened red fish…all New Orleans’ staples. Dessert consisted of bread pudding rich in rum sauce, king cake and coffee.

Isabella knew she shouldn’t have had dessert but what the hell? It wasn’t everyday she got to dine with the mayor.

* * * *

Tiffany Jasper and her friend Morris Evans slipped away from the dinner party and decided to take a private tour of Lincoln House before the mayor led his scheduled tour. The building they were in was more than one hundred and fifty years old and considered to be the most haunted and the most frightening location in the French Quarters. Neither of them believed in ghosts and weren’t really interested in the house. They were just looking for a little privacy so they could be alone. The two of them had been in love for nearly four years and were to be married next year on Tiffany’s twenty-first birthday. They came to the party with their parents and slipped away when their folks weren’t looking.

They found a room on the second floor and walked out onto the balcony to look out at the stars. Tiffany and Morris were holding hands and kissing only a few minutes when Tiffany noticed they weren’t alone. She pointed over to the railing of the balcony about ten feet away.

Morris turned to see what she was pointing at. Before them sat a naked black man who appeared to be chained to the railing of the balcony.

“Do you need any help?” Morris asked the man.

The man shook his head ‘no’ and disappeared before their eyes.

Tiffany backed up into the room and Morris followed her. She stumbled over something on the floor. Morris caught her before she fell. The room had filled with a foul odor that made them gag.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tiffany told Morris. Something wet dripped on her shoulder. She ran into the hallway and Morris followed. They stopped in the hall to catch their breaths. “Something dripped on my gown,” she told Morris.

“It’s a red stain. It looks like blood.”

Tiffany screamed and ran down the stairs. Morris followed close on her heels.

* * * *

No one had to tell Isabella that something was wrong. She sensed it the moment she stepped inside Lincoln House. She knew the legend, yet not too many people believed it. The hysterical young woman named Tiffany crying on her father’s shoulders, told a tale that maybe only she and a few others present believed.

The mayor left the table to console his guests. Isabella and Ernie slipped away to do a little investigating.

“You felt it too?” Ernie asked her, as they hurried up to the second floor.

“As soon as I walked in. You know the tale. This place is full of big bad spirits. Madam Lincoln mistreated her slaves, chained them up, cut them up, and then burned them.”

“Yes, I know the morbid little tale, Bella. The spirits are still here.”

“I know,” Isabella said as she entered the room. “I can feel them and their hatred for Madam Lincoln. She was one real mean slave owner.” Isabella stopped talking and stepped further inside the room.

It was dark except for the moonlight beaming in through the patio glass. “There is something in the room and it smells awful.”

“I know,” Ernie agreed. “It’s different from all the others. It smells evil.”

Something dripped on Isabella’s arm. She raised her hand to the moonlight to get a better look. “It’s blood,” she announced.

Ernie walked over to the wall and turned on the light switch. “Oh, my God!” he said at what he saw.

* * * *

Blooded, butchered bodies of animals lay everywhere. Isabella’s stomach turned. “Now how do you suppose that happened?” Something dripped on her again. Isabella looked up. There was a huge dog stuck up on the ceiling. Its abdomen was cut open. Its bowels and innards were shredded and hanging out of its body.

Ernie looked up. “What the crap is going on here, Bella?”

“Damn place is haunted, Ernie.”

He pointed up. “These aren’t ghosts. They’re dead animals.”

“No one is going to believe this,” Isabella said.

Someone screamed in agony, followed by a loud commotion downstairs.

“Something is happening,” Isabella told Ernie.

They dashed out of the room and down the stairs. Isabella felt the adrenalin building up inside of her. They entered the dining room and froze in the doorway.

The lights flickered on and off and some of the guests ran out of the hall. The music stopped and everyone’s eyes were focused on the ghosts that materialized on the dance floor.

The coroner and the chief of police comforted their wives, while the mayor protected a crying Myra.

Someone screamed again as a naked black man in chains materialized and pointed at Isabella and Ernie.

Isabella and Ernie walked into the room and stopped near the table where the PAK personnel sat.

“What are they doing?” Isabella heard Malcolm asked Collena Petre. Collena and Joshua had moved over to help protect Myra.

“What they do best,” Collena answered.

“This can’t be happening,” Malcolm said. “There are no such things as ghosts.”

Something flew past his head, all the doors all around the great hall slammed shut and the lights flickered on and off.

“Oh no?” Collena said sarcastically to him. “Then how do you explain this?”

Isabella would have found the little scenario funny if she wasn’t busy trying to figure out what the ghosts wanted. “Why are you here?” she asked the naked man in chains.

“Because we cannot sleep,” he answered. “Something is keeping us here.”

Isabella felt what it was and she didn’t like it one bit. She began to chant and walk around the ghosts. “Spirits of long ago, protectors of the dead, hear my prayer. Return these poor lost souls to their graves. Free them from their torment.”

“No!” someone said in a voice so loud some of the guests yelped in surprise.

“Who are you?” Isabella asked the spirit. “Why won’t you let them rest?”

“None of your business and I chose not to,” it replied.

Blue flashing lights and sirens flared outside.

“They are no match for me,” the voices said. Blood poured out of the walls and flowed freely onto the floor.

“Show yourself,” Isabella ordered the voice.

“No,” it answered. “You are not prepared to see me.”

Ernie nudged her. “There are other ghosts appearing. They are crying for help.”

It was always so good to have a psychic as a partner. The doors slammed shut again. Women still cried and men were visibly shaken.

“What do you want?” Isabella asked.

“Your soul, Vanquisher,” it answered.

Isabella sighed. If she had a dime for every time a demon said that to her—. She started the chant again and this time Ernie joined her. The apparitions on the floor began to float. They rose from the ground and levitated in the air. Isabella raised her hands and blue flames emitted from the finger tips.