Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Erasmus
Franklin came through on the name search a lot quicker than expected. Captain Cicely gave Officer Ebony Becks permission to help. I could do some checking from home as well now that I had names of the necromancers. I was on my fourth name. The first three were already deceased. One died not long after birth. The other two made it into their teens. One died due to suicide and the other was inconclusive. His death was deemed either accident or suicide. The ME wasn’t certain.
The fourth name was more promising. Leander Dun. I couldn’t find a death certificate on Leander, and it did look like he graduated from high school. The last known address was a little way outside Montgomery, Alabama. I had no idea if he was still there or not. I also couldn’t find a death certificate for his mother, one Roberta Dun. I’d found a social media site with Roberta’s information. Her public page had a fair number of photos, but none of them were of a man Leander’s age. Assuming he was still alive, Leander should be twenty-eight. I was so giddy I was damn near bouncing on my seat.
Unable to resist, I called Franklin.
“I think I’ve got one,” I shouted before Franklin could form a greeting.
“I need a little context, honey.”
Franklin had started with the infrequent endearments. I’d never considered if I was the kind of guy that wanted to be called sweet nicknames. I think if anyone else had tried, I would have smacked them upside the head. Franklin was different.
“A necromancer. One that might still be alive.”
I could hear the increased attention in Franklin’s voice when he asked, “Who?”
I rattled off Leander’s name as well as his mother’s. “Of course, we don’t know who his father is.” According to Pops, the Warlock Council didn’t keep track of that information, only the defective human mothers who gave birth to necromancers.
“What else have you got?”
I gave Franklin the high school where Leander graduated along with his last known address that I could find. “I have no idea if he’s still there or not. That information is six years old.”
“I’ll see if Becks has time to run it down for us. She’s got more resources than you do.”
“True. You sure she doesn’t mind?”
“Positive.” Franklin chuckled and the sound did funny, fizzy things to my insides. “She’d probably tell you we’re doing her a favor. Becks loves doing deep-dive shit like this.”
My grin hurt my cheeks. “Okay, as long as you’re sure.”
“Like I said, I’m positive.”
I blew out a relieved breath. “We might have one. And if we talk to Leander, maybe he knows others.” It was a long shot, but I couldn’t help holding out hope.
“Maybe.” I heard Franklin’s doubt and couldn’t really blame him for it. “Sorry, but I need to get going. The autopsy report is back on one of my cases and Dr. Stowe wants to speak to me personally.”
“Okay.” I didn’t tell Franklin I was sorry to bother him. I knew better than that and it would only make Franklin feel bad. “I probably need to get going too. I’ve got a client at two.”
“Don’t forget your candy and let me know when you’re done and on your way home. Try not to piss anybody off.”
It was my turn to chuckle. “It’s not me that makes them mad. It’s the soul that doesn’t tell them what they want to hear.” I was just a sort of messenger. Considering the soul they were truly upset with was already dead…I bore the brunt of the redirected anger.
“I get it. Just be careful.”
“Always,” I teased, and Franklin’s scoff told me exactly what he thought of that response. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” Franklin agreed before he ended the call.
I left the house feeling giddy and arrived at the Baymont Cemetery the same way. Baymont was an older cemetery that was still accepting a few new residents. You had to have some pull to be buried there nowadays. Daphne Beaumont held that type of old-money charm that got her buried with the rest of her family. I was here on bequest of her son, Harrison Beaumont. There was some discussion in the family, some unfinished business, regarding a young woman claiming to be Mrs. Daphne Beaumont’s grandchild. Thus far, the Beaumont family had refused DNA testing, claiming the young woman was simply a gold digger lying through her teeth. Given the times, I couldn’t believe someone would be so stupid. DNA testing would easily indicate if the woman was spinning tales or not.
The Beaumont crypt was beautifully ornate and immaculately kept. I had no doubt that when his time came, Harrison Beaumont intended to find his resting place within those walls.
“Mr. Beaumont,” I said by way of introduction. As usual, I didn’t offer my hand and Harrison Beaumont kept his deeply tucked within the warmth of his coat. The wind wasn’t exactly biting, but it was crisp. The temperatures had moderated and it was around fifty today. Still cool for our southern Mississippi blood.
“Necromancer Boone.” Harrison offered me a quick nod. The man was average size for a human, maybe a little shy of six feet tall. His blond hair was generously shot through with white that blended well. Harrison Beaumont gave the appearance of an assured man. Shoulders wide and held aloft, the man carried himself well. His light blue eyes were crinkled at the corners with deep grooves, and I got the impression he was quick with a smile. That grin was nowhere in sight today and I didn’t take offense.
“Thank you for coming today.”
Considering this was a paying job, I didn’t think Harrison owed me a lot of gratitude, but I was appreciative none the less.
“Of course,” I simply answered.
Lifting his shoulders impossibly higher, Harrison’s voice hardened as he said, “I expect the privacy clause I signed to be effective and for you to hold to its terms.”
I could have been offended. A lot of others would have been. The man had just questioned my honor and that wasn’t something a lot of Southern men took kindly. Then again, I was a necromancer, and Mr. Beaumont might not consider me worthy of the same respect.
Taking a deep breath, I took the high road and gave Harrison Beaumont my most reassuring smile. “As stated within the contract, I will not divulge any knowledge gained today unless said knowledge places someone’s life at risk or in some way relates to an ongoing murder investigation. I do reserve the right to make a judgment call regarding such situations.”
Harrison cocked his head to the side while his eyes clinically ran up and down my body. I doubt my appearance did much to impress him. My pants were clean but worn to the point of absolute comfort. My tennis shoes were the same way, and my coat hung from my shoulders, at least two sizes too big. My pockets bulged with Pops’s charms, and my hair perpetually needed a good trim. Honestly, I had no idea what Franklin saw in me.
With a firm nod, Harrison said, “I find your terms acceptable and honorable. Someone’s untimely demise is not what we are here for today.”
It was oddly phrased and made me wonder if Harrison Beaumont knew something I didn’t. If so, he seemed confident that secret wouldn’t be revealed today.
With the legalize out of the way, I swept my hand in the direction of the crypt and said, “Shall we?”
“Of course.” Harrison Beaumont pulled out a key, unlocking the crypt. The air was stale inside, but not humid like it would be during the spring or summer. I was used to damp, moldy crypts but the Beaumont one was dry and cool but not cold.
“Mother’s body is here.” Mrs. Daphne Beaumont hadn’t been cremated. Her body was embalmed and sealed within the crypt. Harrison had the seal broken and Daphne’s remains were laid out on a flat, stone surface within the crypt. Most likely Daphne was currently sprawled out on top of one of her ancestor’s tombs.
Daphne Beaumont’s body was covered by a thick, hunter green blanket. It was similar to all the other blankets I’d seen used in cemeteries. It was supposed to remind others of green grass. It just looked like a piece of fabric to me.
I didn’t need to get closer to her body, but I did anyway. It would be easier if her torso and head were uncovered before I started. Pulling down the blanket, I found myself staring into the preserved face of a woman who’d obviously been attractive while alive. Old age had barely diminished her beauty.
Buried in a pale pink blouse, Daphne’s hands rested on her lower abdomen, a beautiful platinum wedding band wrapped around her left ring finger. Black pearls draped her neck and dripped from her ears. I’d bet my life savings they were the real deal too.
Harrison’s breath caught when I pulled the blanket back. Mrs. Beaumont died seven years ago. It had been a while since he’d seen his mother. Her corpse was holding up well.
When the body of a loved one was revealed, I generally got one of two responses. The living either took a step back or forward. Harrison stepped forward and ran his fingers over his mother’s wedding ring.
“We debated burying her with her engagement ring also,” Harrison said, a catch in his voice. “There was never any doubt about her wedding ring, but my sister and I thought Mother would want her engagement ring saved for her grandchildren. I think that was the right decision, but I don’t know.”
“You can always ask her,” I said. When Harrison’s head snapped up, eyes wide, I shrugged. “I know that’s not the reason you want me to bring her soul back, but there’s no limit on what you can speak to her about. Not as far as I’m concerned.”
Harrison’s mouth opened but no words came out. The only response was a soft nod before he said, “Please proceed.”
Eyes slipping closed, I concentrated on the thread connecting Daphne’s body to her soul. Pushing my necromancer power into my voice, I said, “Daphne Olivia Beaumont, I call your soul to return.”
I wouldn’t say Daphne’s soul was reluctant, but it wasn’t eager either. Typically, the longer a soul had been gone, the more reluctant it was to return. That wasn’t the only reason, but I’d found it generally true over the years.
Blinking, Daphne’s eyes were milk pale. Her stiff skin made a sort of rubbing noise as she opened her mouth. I was pretty sure the woman had dental implants when I saw the perfection behind those lips.
“M-mother,” Harrison choked out.
Daphne Beaumont’s torso raised into a sitting position. “Harrison?” Daphne sounded confused. Some souls were when they were returned. Thankfully, I didn’t feel any anger or fear coming from Daphne’s soul.
“Mrs. Daphne Olivia Beaumont,” I said. “I am Necromancer Erasmus Boone. Your son, Harrison, contracted me to return your soul because he has some questions he needs answered. Harrison will ask the questions but please be advised, I will know if you try and lie.” Inhaling deeply, I added, “I will not allow lies and I can force you to tell the truth. I believe the experience is…uncomfortable.”
Daphne’s eyes narrowed and she glared at me. I’ll bet it was an effective move when she was alive.
“Harrison, what on earth is this—”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Harrison interjected. “This was not my first choice, but Char and I discussed it and this is the decision we came to.”
“What does Charlotte have to do with this?”
I knew Charlotte, Char, as Harrison referred to her, was Daphne’s daughter. Harrison gave me a heads-up that Charlotte wouldn’t be here but was well aware of what he was doing and agreed with the plan.
“Nothing except I wanted you to know that it was a group decision.”
“I see,” Daphne sharply answered. “And what could be so important to do something like this?” Daphne waved a hand my direction as she said those words, disgust obvious.
Harrison winced, but I’ll give him this, he kept going, plowing through and ignoring his mother’s obvious irritation. When I brought a soul back, I had an up close and intimate relationship with them. Daphne Beaumont had been a force of nature while alive. I got the feeling she was well loved, but that was tempered with an unhealthy dose of fear.
“Jasmine Delaney,” Harrison said, his voice devoid of all emotion.
I felt the immediate slice of pain that went through Daphne’s soul. “Who?” she innocently asked.
“She knows who you’re talking about,” I interjected and if looks could kill, I’d wind up sharing eternity within the Beaumont crypt.
“I know,” Harrison answered. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
Daphne huffed and turned her head away from her son, stubbornly staring at the opposite wall. There was a lot more than anger wafting through Daphne’s soul. That anger was covering a well of pain. Had her husband cheated on her? It wouldn’t surprise me. There were plenty of “love children” out there floating about. Some went under the radar, their lives quietly paid for. Others were left floundering in the wind. Fewer still were welcomed into the main family fold.
“Mother.” Harrison took his mother’s cold, dead hand in his. Daphne stared at their joined hands. “I need to know the truth. Jasmine has a grandson who’s ill. Honestly, I don’t think she would have contacted anyone in the family if it weren’t for that. He needs a bone marrow transplant. She asked everyone in the family to be tested to see if we’re donors.”
Well shit, not what I expected. I’d gotten the impression that the Beaumont family thought this interloper was simply after their money. This was much, much different.
“Char and I need to know if this is true before we place any of our children or grandchildren in harm’s way. I don’t want to put them through testing if this is all bullshit.”
“Jasmine has a grandbaby?” Daphne’s voice was small and full of wistful regret.
“She has two. The youngest is the one who’s sick.”
Daphne’s sigh was a leftover of her mortal memory. There was no air to expel. “It’s not bullshit as you so crudely phrased. Honestly, Harrison, I taught you better than that.”
“You did.” Harrison’s grin was soft. “I’m sorry.”
Daphne patted her son’s hand. “It’s fine. I realize current circumstances are…unsettling.”
“You could say that.” Harrison was quiet a moment before he asked, “Who did Father get pregnant?”
Daphne’s harsh bark of laughter made us both jump. “Oh sweetie, it wasn’t your father. That man was as loyal as a guard dog.”
Harrison’s surprise equaled mine. “You?”
“It was before I met your father. I was young, just past my sixteenth birthday. I was so very foolish and I thought… Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter what I thought. Only the outcome matters and that outcome was Jasmine. Of course, back in those days, a disgraced, unwed teenager didn’t stay at home. I was sent away. Mother told friends and family I was in Europe, studying abroad. I don’t know if they believed her or not. If not, no one said a word. By the time I returned home, Jasmine was a month old and already adopted. I came home, went back to school, and Mother and Father acted as if nothing happened.”
Sweet Gaia . My heart ached for the deceased woman before me.
“There was no choice, Harrison. It was what needed to be done. I’ve heard people lament that times have changed and they wish things could be as they used to be.” Daphne shook her head. “But things were not wonderful then and often, change is good. It is needed. I am very thankful that young women today have more choices than I had.”
I gripped the fabric over my chest, squeezing tight and wishing Franklin were here with me. I could have used his steadying presence and strong hand on my back.
“Mother, I—”
She waved her son off. “It is what it is. I made peace with my life long ago.”
“Did Father know?”
“He did.” Daphne’s soul softened and for lack of a better word, warmed. “He didn’t care. Your father was a gift. I wish every woman could feel as loved as I did. Oh, that doesn’t mean we didn’t fight and that he catered to everything I wanted or asked for. But the fighting was never cruel or abusive. It was simple disagreement and resolved itself with time, laughter and love.” Turning her milk-white eyes to her son, Daphne’s tone was somber. “I kept track of my first child as best as I could. Jasmine Delaney is your older, half sister. That is the God’s honest truth. What you choose to do with that information is between you and your sister.”
“Mother.” Harrison’s tone was soft and full of emotion. I wasn’t sure if they’d been close while Daphne was alive, but there was definitely love there. Suddenly I understood the need to bring Daphne’s soul back. DNA tests could certainly have been done, but that wouldn’t explain what happened. It wouldn’t have been closure.
Harrison and Daphne conversed for a few minutes longer. Harrison wound up asking his mother about the engagement ring and was obviously relieved when she agreed with his decision. I almost regretted when it was time to let Daphne’s soul go. When Harrison gave me the go-ahead, I said, “Daphne Olivia Beaumont, I release your soul. Go in peace.”
Daphne’s body slumped and her son gently laid her flat against the stone surface below, covering her torso and face with the green blanket but not before placing a kiss on Daphne’s forehead.
When Harrison pulled away, there were tears in his eyes. He stood there, staring at the empty spot his mother would be placed back into. When he spoke, I got the feeling he was speaking to himself more than me. “I’m glad Char didn’t come. It’s like losing you all over again.”
I’d heard that before and inwardly cringed, feeling guilty. I’m not sure why. Momma said I had no reason to, but reason didn’t always influence emotion like it should.
“I’m sorry,” I said because I didn’t honestly know what else to say.
Harrison’s body snapped to attention, like he’d forgotten I was there. Shoulders back and pulling himself up to his full height, Harrison Beaumont collected himself before turning to me and saying, “Thank you, but you have no reason to be sorry. You did the job I requested and brought my mother back and released her soul with dignity. It was more than I expected and worth the fee.”
My customers weren’t always happy when everything was said and done, and while I wouldn’t say Harrison was happy , he was satisfied.
While it technically wasn’t any of my business, I still asked, “What will you do?”
Harrison was reluctant to leave his mother and kept staring at the blanket shrouding her form. “About my nephew?” I knew right then and there what the answer would be. “I’ll speak with Char, but we’ll go through the testing. It will be up to our children if they want to do so and if they want their children tested also. I can’t imagine our kids saying no, but I’m not certain what they’ll do with the grandkids. If one of them is a match…”
“It’s a lot to go through.”
Harrison gave a slow nod. “Then again, if it were one of my grandkids—” He inhaled deeply. “I would hope and pray for any miracle.”
I had a feeling everyone in the Beaumont family was about to descend on the testing facility.
“Thank you again, Necromancer Boone. You are everything advertised and more.” Good reviews were always welcome, although, admittedly, my job was a difficult one to review.
“You’re welcome. Would you like me to stay with your mother until the cemetery crew arrives?”
Harrison’s smile was brittle. “Kind, but no. I will stay with her.”
“Okay. Please be careful driving home and let me know if there’s anything more I can do for you.”
“You as well,” Harrison woodenly answered. It was time for me to go. A fine mist hung in the air when I exited the crypt. The ground was damp, but not soaked. The next few days were supposed to be the same. Cool, cloudy, and misty. Not the most pleasant weather but Franklin told me it beat snow. I had to take his word for it.
I checked my phone while walking back to my car. I had to keep looking up to make sure I didn’t bump into a headstone or fall into a hole that had been prepared while waiting for its occupant. Gaia, Momma would kill me if I broke a leg falling into a gravesite hole. Franklin would be right beside her.
There were no new text messages but I sent one to Franklin letting him know I was done and on my way home. I also reminded him about Harvest Day tomorrow. I did have a new voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize but knew the area code was from Louisiana. I hit the play button and listened to Detective Emmanuel Cardoza ask me to give him a call at my convenience regarding the Titus McMahon/Thomas Speedler case. He left a number and I knew that my convenience was a polite way of saying we need to speak with you soon.
Tabling that phone call, I checked my e-mails and found a submitted request for a job I’d need to look into. Finally at my car, I sat down, closed and locked my door, and read through the details. It sounded simple enough. Janet Meeker needed to speak with her deceased grandfather regarding family financials that were not made clear in his will. Those kinds of jobs were my bread and butter.
I saved the e-mail and started my car, ramping up the heat. Easing out of Baymont Cemetery, I savored the heat already filling the car. Baymont Cemetery was lovely and quiet, ranking a two, maybe three on my scale. I wouldn’t mind wandering its grounds later. Maybe Franklin would have time when the weather was nicer to take a walk with me.