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“Yeah, let’s.” She dropped my hand, and I felt the loss like a punch to the gut. What in the world was it about Hanlen Arbor that had me nearly tied in knots after only knowing her for a handful of hours? The coming days would be interesting in more ways than one. But first, I needed to get to the bottom of this suffocating wrongness plaguing me right now.
I caught up with her before she reached the edge of the trees, and the sickly-sweet smell of old blood and decay reached me. I knew that Hanlen smelled it, too, because she put a wrist to her nose and stopped in her tracks.
She groaned. “God, what is that? It smells like metal left out in the sun for too long combined with baby powder and sprouted potatoes.”
I was sure she knew what it was, she just wasn’t willing to acknowledge it quite yet. “Death.” It was the only answer I could give. For some reason, I didn’t want to lie to Hanlen. She may not understand or accept the world I lived in, but she would grasp facts. And we were about to be inundated with some gruesome ones.
We walked side by side into the tree line, and Hanlen activated the flashlight app on her cell phone. The LED light lit up the area to reveal absolute horror.
“Sweet Jesus,” Hanlen gasped as she took a stumbling step back, brushing into the bag of liquor I held and making it clank and clatter.
A body lay on the ground in front of us, nearly translucent in its twilight-lit death pallor, arms and legs arranged in a macabre tableau. The corpse had something resting on its forehead, right over the third eye. I flipped on my phone as well and took a careful step forward, shining the light on the face. Milky eyes stared up at me, the ghastly gash in the man’s throat like a sinister second smile. When I bent over to take a better look at the object on his face, I saw that it was an octagonal coin or token. I couldn’t see more in the low light, but I knew immediately that this wasn’t good, and had a feeling I knew exactly what it was. Even if it wasn’t what I thought, this was definitely ritualistic. It wasn’t just some person who’d wandered into the woods and died of a heart attack, or a bliss-seeker who’d taken a bit too much of their preferred reality escape. This was grisly murder. And sadly familiar. I rubbed my forehead with the hand holding my phone and blew out a breath.
Hanlen suddenly gasped next to me, and I lowered my hand and turned to her once more. “What is it . . . beyond the obvious?” I asked.
“That’s . . .” She hesitated a beat. “That’s my mark. The fugitive. That’s the guy I hoped to find while here in New Orleans. My skiptrace case.” She shook her head. “Well, it seems I found him—though not at all like I or his parole officer hoped.”
Chapter 6
Hanlen
My first night in New Orleans, and I spent the last hours of it at the police station, giving my statement and sharing everything I had on Dustin Reynolds with the NOPD. The man had a seedy past, and I’d never invite him to family dinner, but nobody deserved to die like that.
Dev was somewhere in the station as well, giving his statement and account of what’d happened. It seemed most of the force knew him, and I gleaned from the snippets of conversations I overheard that he’d helped them with cases in the past. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. On the one hand, as a private investigator, I knew that leads and assistance sometimes came from the most unlikely places and people, and when clues dried up, grasping at straws was a natural reaction. On the other hand, Dev was a fricking ghost hunter. Was the New Orleans Police Department actually using psychics and mediums to solve their cases now? Then again, what did I care? If it worked, that’s all that mattered. I might have even entertained employing some if I knew it would help me solve Reagan’s case. Maybe.
Detective Miller finished what she was doing and passed me a typed statement to sign. As I did that, she went to photocopy my file on Dustin that I’d luckily had in my purse, and then came back to return the originals to me, Dev on her heels.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Dev asked, placing a hand on the back of my chair.
“Fine. Just exhausted,” I answered truthfully. I stood and faced him, taking in his Caribbean blue eyes that looked a little tired, as well. I turned to Detective Miller. “Are we finished?” I asked, hoping the answer was yes.
“You are,” she said, and I almost sighed in relief. “We have your contact information—both of you,”—she faced Dev for a second—“and we’ll call if anything happens or if we need anything else.”
“Is there any way you can keep me abreast of the progress?” I asked. “I know I don’t really have that kind of clearance, but I have to go back and tell my client that his quarry is dead. And not just dead . . . murdered. He’s probably going to be pissed that I’m keeping the deposit.”
She smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.” She turned to face Dev again. “Nice to see you again, Dev. Tell your grandma hi for me, and thank her for the muffins she sent over last month.”
Dev flashed her that smile that made my knees weak. “Will do, Stephanie.”
Dev and I walked outside and took the steps down to Broad Avenue. I saw him glancing behind me a few times with a strange look on his face and shifted to see what had caught his attention, but I didn’t see anything. When I turned to face him again, he looked a little nervous. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he said with a sigh. “Just tired, I guess.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, at least, not entirely, but I wouldn’t push. I really was exhausted, too. This had been one hell of a first day back in my old haunts—no pun intended.
I shivered a little from the chill in the air, and Dev reached out and rubbed my jacket-covered arms. Normally, I wasn’t a touchy-feely person and usually shied away from uninvited contact. Even going so far as to call out people who touched me too familiarly and without consent. But something about Dev made me hold in those words. Both earlier and now, despite my body’s natural knee-jerk reactions. Because I didn’twanthim to stop, I realized. That wasn’t something I’d ever felt before, and I didn’t know how to process it. I wasn’t sure if it was the excitement, the fatigue, or just Dev. I decided not to dwell on it too much. It really wasn’t important . . . the whys of it. We had chemistry, there was no denying that, and I would let it unfold as it would. If it did . . .
“I should head back to the hotel,” I said and stuffed my hands into my pockets.
“And I should get home. I have about a dozen missed calls and texts from the team, and still need to do some research on the history of Arborwood before we really get started. Will you be okay making your way to The Ravisan alone?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I pulled out my phone. “Just a couple of taps and I’ll have a rideshare whisk me away.”
He waved his cell. “Same. But I need to run into the all-night market for a couple of things first. I never did finish my errand when I ran into you earlier.” He smiled.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said, honestly feeling bad for derailing his afternoon. Though the deviation had been his idea, so I probably shouldn’t feel too badly.
“No worries at all. An afternoon and evening in your company was better than any trip to the food shop—despite how our night ended. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can set up a time to meet at the property for the walk-through. I’d like you to show me around before I let the rest of the team in. Is that okay?”
