7. Seven
SEVEN
Barry had been reticent when we asked to see the scene of the crime before leaving his office.
When we explained we had the sort of abilities that might help the overall investigation, he relented and agreed to figure out a way to get us into the Bishops’ house.
We had to wait until the crime scene team had processed it.
We got the all-clear after lunch, which meant a trip to Marigny. Charlie had probably been in Marigny but acted as if it was her first visit.
“This is where the locals hang out.” She swung her chin left and right as she took in the houses.
“What do you call those?” She pointed from her spot in the passenger seat.
Jack had insisted on driving so they could bring big bags of equipment with them.
I was still uncertain what sort of equipment.
“Creole cottages,” I replied from the backseat, where Lex and I sat side by side.
He’d insisted on going with us, and I had a suspicion that was because he wanted to avoid his current girlfriend problems. Referring to her as his “girlfriend” was going to get me in a world of trouble.
That’s why I was holding off until the exact right moment to drop the word. You know, to exert maximum damage.
“What does that mean?” Charlie asked. “Are they like ranch houses?”
“They were prevalent in the 18th and 19th centuries,” I started without realizing I was even going there. I knew the history because I lived in one. “They’re usually one to one-and-a -half-story houses, and the influences are all French-Caribbean and Spanish.
“I’m not an expert on the gabled roofs or dormers,” I continued. “What’s interesting is that they were built right to the property line.”
“I’ve noticed,” Jack said as he managed traffic. “There are no yards.”
“All of the historical cottages — and there is a difference from the more modern ones by developers who tried to copy the look — don’t have yards. Everything opens into everything else.”
“Really?” Charlie shifted on her seat. “How do you know so much about them? Did you study architecture?”
That struck me as funny. “No, but my father suggested that as an alternative to what I really wanted to do at one time. He said I had an eye for details. As for how I know, I own one.”
Charlie looked absolutely delighted. “Can I see it sometime?”
“Sure.” I nodded. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a house.”
“I love historical homes.” Charlie turned forward. “That’s why I love the house we just bought. I’m going to make it look amazing.”
Jack reached over and patted her knee. “You’re going to fill it with knick-knacks and ridiculous art, and I’m going to love every bit of it.”
“Yeah.” Charlie’s grin was wide. “It’s going to be awesome.”
“Totally awesome,” he agreed.
IT WASN’T DIFFICULT, ONCE WE WERE on the right street, for Jack to find the house.
There was police tape everywhere, and while the neighbors were no longer congregating on the street it was obvious they had watched the investigation unfold.
Paper coffee cups littered the street. I knew without a doubt that not all of them had held coffee.
“Almost no backyards here,” Jack noted as he looked around. “Do these walls mean there’s a backyard that way? Is it accessible from another backyard?”
I understood why he was asking. He was trying to imagine how the killer had entered. I had bad news for him.
“My guess is that it’s completely walled in back there,” I replied. “They normally are.”
“No access to other yards?” Jack deflated a bit.
“Not unless you can get over an eight-foot wall easily.”
“A shifter could, or a vampire.”
“But why would either use an axe?”
“Maybe they’re trying to send a message or spin a specific narrative.”
It was possible, so I shrugged. “Let’s see what they have going on inside.”
Jack parked down the street and we walked to the house. I scanned the other houses and apartment buildings in the neighborhood. Nothing stuck out. Everything was normal, or normal enough. Perhaps that was why this location was chosen.
“What do we know about the people who own the house?” I asked.
“We’ll have to ask Detective Barry,” Jack replied. “I don’t have anything on them yet.”
I saw Barry waiting for us at the end of the driveway.
He was acting helpful enough, but I remained suspicious of his motivations.
Why would he invite outsiders in? I should have asked before, but it would have to wait.
I didn’t want the man’s hackles going up, and that would definitely happen if I voiced my concern.
“Thank you for doing this,” Jack said when we arrived in front of the detective. He extended his hand. “We brought along another person.” He inclined his head toward Lex. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t know.” Barry eyed Lex. “What do you offer the team?”
I stepped in to answer before Lex could. He liked to mouth off to authority figures. “Lex works with me. He has a solid knowledge base and … he can scent for various paranormals.”
Barry was obviously in on the big secret — most of city law enforcement representatives I’d run into over the years were — and lying seemed a disservice to all of us.
“I see.” Barry nodded. “I’m familiar with your reputation,” he said to Jack after a beat. “The Legacy Foundation has swooped in on more than one occasion. I’ve been told to cooperate fully.”
That was interesting. The order was being issued from somewhere up the food chain. I made a mental note to ask Jack about his contacts later.
“Let’s go inside,” Barry said. “I’m going to ask that you not touch anything. If you feel that you need to touch something, put on gloves. Just in case we have to come back at a later date.”
“Of course,” Jack said. “We won’t touch anything.” He didn’t look over at Lex and me to see if we agreed. He was in charge, and he knew it.
Lex and I trailed Jack and Charlie as Barry led us into the house. The second we crossed the threshold, the scent of blood practically knocked me over.
I could feed like a normal vampire, but my witch genes made that unnecessary.
My father swore up and down that I would be stronger if I fed regularly.
I wasn’t a fan of that — I’d only tried it once or twice in my early twenties — so I politely declined his various offers.
He wasn’t about to give up on convincing me anytime soon.
My fangs came out, but I turned quickly to hide them. After a few seconds, they retracted. When I turned back, I was grateful to find nobody was looking at me. They were looking at the blood spattered from one end of the room to the other.
Jack moved closer to the mess, taking it all in.
Charlie hung back. She looked aghast. She had one of those faces that couldn’t hide her emotions.
She’d explained to me that she’d spent the majority of her life hiding who she was and what she could do.
The biggest risk of her life had been joining the Legacy Foundation.
She was hiding in the one place they were looking for her, and she pulled it off until she was ready to admit what she was.
It had worked out for her. The group had worked with her and acted as protectors, but this was beyond what she had seen with them.
I inhaled deeply, my nostrils flaring at the coppery scent. “What can you tell us about the couple?” I asked.
“Hmm?” Barry dragged his eyes to me. “Oh, um, let’s see here.
” He pulled out his phone. Nicholas worked at various hotels in the Quarter until he retired from the Royal Sonesta two years ago.
He started as a bellhop when he was a teenager and took three different hotel manager positions before his retirement. ”
“Any record?” Jack asked.
“Nope. Not even a drunk and disorderly, and you know how hard that is to pull off.”
Jack frowned, and Barry caught himself.
“Or maybe you don’t realize how hard it is,” Barry said on a weak half-laugh. “It’s New Orleans. We drink a lot here.”
“That’s like saying, ‘Hey, I’m a Kardashian, I like attention,’” Lex drawled as he hovered near the wall with the most blood splatter. His nose flared as he leaned forward. He looked puzzled when he pulled back.
“Anything?” I asked him. “They smell human to me but … .”
“You can’t always tell that by the scent of blood,” he finished.
I nodded.
“They don’t smell like shifters, not any that I’ve crossed paths with,” Lex said. He wasn’t looking at me, seemingly transfixed by the splatter pattern on the wall. “I can’t rule out witches. Maybe demons.”
“Demons?” Barry looked taken aback. “Are you kidding?”
“Not so much,” Lex replied. “But I can’t see a demon living here.” He studied the rest of the room.
The cottage was homey. The space had a lived-in feeling that I was familiar with. It wasn’t messy, and the trinkets and books that were dispersed around the room and on the shelves had been collected over the years, not during a single shopping trip.
“What about the wife?” I asked.
“Charlotte was a homemaker after they had children,” Barry replied. “She worked as a maid at one of the hotels — the first one Nicholas worked at. That’s how they met. They married a year later and she kept working until she took maternity leave for their son. She had the daughter two years later.”
“And never went back to work?” I asked. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I hastily added when Barry’s gaze sharpened. I really didn’t have anything against homemakers. That’s the hardest job in the world. “I’m just looking for ties she might have in the community.”
“Because you believe it was a targeted attack?” Jack asked.
I held out my hands. “There’s a lot of rage in an attack like this. It feels like it shouldn’t be coincidental. It’s just … .”
“The Axeman thing,” Barry guessed. “That’s not something that accidentally happens.”