The Cursed (16 page)

Dallas looked at Hannah. He loved the empathy in her. She honestly felt for others—maybe that was why lost souls sought her out.

Jose looked back at her. “No. I don’t feel her.” He looked relieved.

“And I died because...?” Yerby asked.

“We think you were a warning,” Dallas told her.

“A warning?” she asked.

“In case someone in your group knew something and might have talked,” Dallas said.

“Oh, please! A young couple escaping their kids for a few days? A wimp like Shelly—or even Stuart? And trust me, Mark doesn’t know any more than I do, and I miss him so much.” She broke off with a sob.

Jose embraced her with a ghostly arm. “We’re all mortal,” he reminded her. “Some of us just find that out...early.”

“Everyone dies,” Melody assured her.

“I guess I just wanted to live, first,” Yerby said.

Dallas cleared his throat. “All right, Yerby. We know you were killed by a big man, white, with blue eyes. We’ll find out if the police came up with any leads when we head into the task force meeting later this morning. Katie will work with an artist to give us a new sketch of the man she believes was in the bar and then changed his appearance to take the ghost tour.” He turned to look at Hannah. “Cancel any reservations you have for the upcoming week. Have your service do it. They can offer your guests a big discount on a later visit.”

Hannah didn’t argue. But then she asked, “What about the ghost tours?”

Dallas hesitated, looking over at Logan. “The ghost tours could continue,” he said.

“They could?” Hannah asked.

Kelsey spoke up. “Hannah, we could close down the Siren and you could move to another state, but the Wolf would still be out there.”

“In other words, our best chance of finding the man behind this is to allow the killer to come close,” Logan said.

“Can’t get much closer than yesterday,” Hannah murmured.

“It’s your call, Hannah,” Dallas said.

“Why not?” she said. “Everyone loves a good ghost tour—even hit men. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go start the coffee. And make breakfast. If there’s one thing we’re good at here, it’s breakfast.”

When she left the room, Yerby let out what sounded like a sigh. “I know you need to arrest the Wolf, but please...find out who did this to me, too.”

“We will,” Dallas said.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice fading along with her ghostly presence.

“She’s just not that strong,” Jose said. “She didn’t deserve this.” He stood. “I’m going to go haunt the town again. It’s all I can do now, but who knows? Maybe I’ll find something. I’ll leave you to all things physical. Dallas, my notes are in my desk at the local office. There may be something there I’m not remembering.”

“Thanks,” Dallas told him.

No sooner had Jose vanished than Hannah was back in the doorway between the kitchen and the parlor. “Breakfast’s ready,” she announced.

“Thank heaven for coffee,” Logan said, heading for the kitchen.

They all followed, and for a few moments they were all silent as they filled their plates. Soon everyone had coffee and something to eat. Hannah hadn’t had time to cook, but she’d set out Danish and bagels, along with cereal and fruit. She’d even come up with an assortment of power bars.

Logan filled a bowl with cereal but remained standing to eat. Kelsey sat down to nibble at a bagel. Dallas grabbed something that promised to be full of protein, fiber and Vitamin C.

Hannah herself didn’t eat. She sat, cradling her cup in her hands. Melody and Hagen hovered behind her. Petrie walked over to her, and she picked him up and held him close.

“We’ll get going as soon as everyone is ready,” Dallas said.

“We?” Hannah asked him.

“We can’t leave you here alone,” he said.

To his surprise, she smiled at him. “You won’t be leaving me alone. Kelsey will stay.”

Dallas was startled and stared at Kelsey, who met his gaze somewhat defensively. Something in his gut seemed to tighten. He wanted to protest. He wasn’t a chauvinist in any way, but he just couldn’t forget what had happened to Adrian.

“I’ll keep the doors locked, and we’ll give Liam a call and have a patrol officer park out front,” Kelsey said.

“But that means you won’t be in on the meeting,” he said.

She smiled. “You and Logan will be there.”

Hannah stood. “You said we have to be—to be obvious.”

Yes, but not when I’m not here!
he thought.

He didn’t say it, though. He knew he had to believe in his fellow agent’s ability to do the job.

He realized something more than speaking with the dead had been going on that morning; Kelsey and Hannah hadn’t talked about their plan to stay, yet they had both known it. Maybe he should have, too.

He nodded curtly. “Kelsey—”

“You’re on speed dial, Dallas. And you’re lead. I’ll ring you before Logan if there’s the slightest reason. And remember, this is Key West. You won’t be far, just over on North Roosevelt.”

He turned to Hannah. “Just one thing, then. Don’t let anyone in while I’m gone. Got that?” She nodded, and he said to Logan, “I’m ready, then—as soon as that patrol car sets up out front.”

* * *

Watch the house. Well, that was easy enough for him to do.

Machete watched.

And as he watched, he kept praying that his phone wouldn’t ring.

The two men left the house, which meant the two women were alone inside. But, of course, one was armed.

The Wolf had been making mistakes recently. Until recently he’d been in control, never setting a foot wrong. But every order he’d given lately had only made things worse. Machete could have handled it all so much better. He wouldn’t have made a commotion everywhere. He would have taken care of the undercover agent in a very different way.

Instead, the Wolf had caused a mess.

He was losing control.

Machete took out his phone, which seemed to burn in his hands. He knew he should call the Wolf. He should tell him that the women were alone.

Machete had been contemplating his situation for a while now. He’d forced himself to admit he was obsessed with Hannah O’Brien. He warned himself that, if it came to his life versus hers, he didn’t want to die.

But he was worried. He didn’t want to end up like the man who had died on the bridge last night. It used to be that people only died if they were disloyal or if they failed.

Now...

Now they were all disposable. Send them out, let them die. None of it touched the Wolf.

The Wolf was out of control.

But...

His phone continued to burn in his hands. Call the Wolf?

Or just keep watching—and wait for the Wolf to call him?

* * *

There were at least forty officers gathered in the conference room at the station. Dallas spoke first, telling everyone how long the FBI had been tracking the Wolf and Los Lobos and how hard it had been to even know when a case involved them.

Katie had come in early with Liam and her husband to work with a police artist and they’d created a new image of the man she was nearly certain she had seen at the bar on the night of Jose’s death and again on the ghost tour last night. Copies of the image were passed around, along with the FBI file on the case.

When Dallas had finished presenting all the information he had, Liam stood to give his report on what the police had discovered in the wake of Yerby’s death. Every person on every dive boat that had been out at the time had been questioned. None of them had seen anything. The dive captains and the fishing charter captains had all been questioned, as well, but none of them had seen anything unusual, such as an unfamiliar craft or a dive boat anchored without a flag. Liam looked over at Dallas when he finished. “In short, everyone out there was accounted for, and none of them are our killer or killers.”

Dallas thanked him and turned to the assembled officers again. “Someone may still know something they don’t realize they know. Use the fact that we’re a small community. Use all your relationships. Engage with both tourists and locals whenever you can. Remember, most members of Los Lobos are isolated. They communicate with the Wolf by cell phone, using a number that changes constantly, but if we can get just one person’s phone, we’ll be a few steps closer.”

One of the officers cleared his throat, “Dave Levin, police diver,” he said. “I have a boat at the wharf—I’m berthed next to the boat our victim went out on. I also interviewed the married couple Yerby was partnered with, since she was alone on the dive. They swear she was with them when they went by the
Jefferson,
then, when they turned around, she was gone.”

“And they didn’t go back for her?”

“They didn’t realize she was missing ’til they were back on the boat. They’re pretty devastated. I told them that they’d be questioned again and they’re more than willing to help.”

Dallas thanked him.

A beat cop explained that, as yet, the knife Jose Rodriguez had wielded against his attacker hadn’t been found, but they were still searching the area, going through trash and brush and everything else.

Another officer stood next to tell them he’d investigated Robert Brown, the man who’d been shot down on the bridge. Amazingly, that had turned out to be his real name. He had a record for petty theft; he’d served time but been out for over ten years. He worked occasionally on construction. His apartment, however, was on Fort Lauderdale Beach—about a hundred and fifty miles north of the scene of the accident—and cost several thousand a month. He’d been living far beyond his apparent means but wasn’t carrying any debt. Not married, no children, and—according to his neighbors—he kept to himself.

No phone had been found on him.

“He was probably ordered to ditch it right before the accident,” Liam noted. “And that’s one of the most important things. If you apprehend anyone suspected of being a member of Los Lobos, do anything you can to get hold of his phone.”

“We’re sure they’re buying prepaid burner phones,” Dallas said. “But our tech experts can learn a lot from them anyway, so let’s get what we can.”

As soon as he finished, Logan motioned to him from the rear of the room. Dallas thanked the attendees and walked over to join him.

“Something?” he asked.

“They’ve got him, the guy who was at the bar and on the tour. He’s in an interrogation room now—spouting his civil rights and demanding a lawyer,” Logan said. “Go see what you can get him to spill. We may not have much time if we can’t find cause to hold him.”

* * *

Hannah was glad she had chosen to stay at the house with Kelsey and that Dallas hadn’t fought her decision.

She needed time to do what needed to be done business-wise, and maybe, if there was time, just try to calm down, chill out. She was determined not to analyze everything she had done or what she was feeling, not to mention what she thought she should or shouldn’t be feeling. And she definitely didn’t want to try to analyze what
he
was feeling. Besides, she was afraid she might not even have a future, so the analysis of anything was moot. Better just to keep moving.

She called her service and found out that tonight’s tour was full. In fact, they’d been turning down reservations for hours. It was always popular, but her tour was the hottest thing in town these days.

She didn’t go outside, and she and Kelsey were keeping the house locked, so they would hear anyone trying to enter.

“I like your guy,” she told Kelsey after her cousin had done one of what she called her walk-arounds, moving through the house, checking on the patrol officer on the street and peeking out back.

“My guy? You mean Logan?” Kelsey asked, and smiled.

“You work so well together. Are you really going to get married?”

“Really.”

“You don’t wear a ring.”

“I do.” She produced her engagement ring, which she wore on a chain around her neck. It was a beautiful stone, but a sapphire, not a diamond. Hannah noted that there was a second ring on the chain.

“My favorite,” Kelsey said, indicating the stone.

“Bucking tradition.”

“Actually, I
am
pretty traditional. I believe in marriage.”

“And you went off and got married without telling anyone—if I’m reading this right,” Hannah said.

“We still plan on doing something special with our friends—soon. We haven’t announced that we’re married. I think our close friends have figured it out, though.”

“Will the FBI let you continue working together once they know you’re married?”

Kelsey smiled and nodded. “We’re all handpicked. There are dangers, yes, and we have to follow a lot of extra procedures. But because we’re a special unit, we’re not subject to all the same rules as everyone else. Unlike the standard field office, we’re not limited to a particular territory. Since we’re an offshoot of the behavioral analysis unit, we’re on call, ready to go wherever we’re needed. And while we’re not officially ‘the unit that talks to ghosts,’ it’s common knowledge that we handle ‘special cases.’ Our director knows that people like us aren’t the norm, so he doesn’t mess with what works. Logan and I work well together.”

“But...?”

“But what?”

“Do you ever feel a conflict? Like...it must rip you to pieces when you’re both in dangerous situations,” Hannah told her.

Kelsey was thoughtful for a minute. “A little. But no job comes with a guarantee. You can play it safe and never take chances, and then a car jumps a curb and crashes through a storefront, and it kills you and half a dozen others. You can die a thousand natural deaths—hurricane, earthquake, tornado, blizzard—”

“Falling piece of the space shuttle, asteroid collision?” Hannah said.

“Anything can happen,” Kelsey said softly. “We had an agent survive cancer, and she was hit by a bus the week after she finished chemo. There are no guarantees. I want to make a difference and so does Logan, so...

“Everyone in the Krewes winds up being very close. We’re different from other people, but we share that difference with each other. It’s like the kinship between robotics geeks or animal trainers or...jugglers or specialists in any field. You speak the same language. So we tend to get emotionally involved with each other. For us, it works.”