2. Chapter Two
The scene at the Sheriff’s Department was chaotic. It was a bustling landscape of officers and administrative staff moving through the day and dealing with criminals, concerned citizens, and government officials who needed to keep their fingers in the goings-on of the local police force. It had a rhythm of its own, just like the city of New Orleans.
The office chatter was like white noise to Sheriff Grace Cooper as she walked through the building to her office. It was only eight in the morning, but it promised another hot and muggy day. The jazz bands were already out and warming up, and she enjoyed listening to one as she waited for her coffee and beignets at Cafe du Monde. It was her morning ritual, and the bag she carried was still warm with the tasty breakfast treats. But now it was time to get down to business.
She closed the door to her office, shutting out the hustle and bustle behind her. She set her coffee cup and the bag of beignets on her desk and turned to the wall to her right. It was covered with maps of New Orleans, close-ups of the French Quarter, crime scene photos, wanted posters, and sticky notes filled with her handwriting. In the middle of the chaos was the photo of the strange symbol she and Boudreaux found at the crime scene. She sat down in her worn-out leather chair, leaning back as she opened the lid of her coffee, her eyes focused on that symbol as she sipped. Her mind was racing. What did the symbol mean? Why did the killer leave it? What was the killer trying to tell her?
And why did the symbol glow with an eerie light on the alleys wall?
To anyone else, that question would’ve been a very scary one. But not to Grace. She had grown up on the streets of the French Quarter. She was raised on stories of Delphine LaLaurie and her torturing of slaves. She had been to the St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 and Marie Laveau’s tomb many times throughout her life, although she had never been brave enough to put her red “X” on the crypt asking for the voodoo Queen’s help from the grave. She knew of the vampires and the witches, the Grunch and the Rougarou, and the casket girls of Ursuline Convent. Haunted mansions, restless spirits, and anything supernatural was just another day for the Sheriff.
Now, she was facing a possible serial killer who knew of New Orleans’s dark and supernatural past and wasn’t afraid to tap into it. She opened the bag of beignets and pulled one out, taking a bite as she stared at the wall. It was at times like these she wished her father was still alive. He had also been a sheriff, and when she decided to join the force, he had been so proud. He had faced his share of New Orleans’s demons during his tenure, and his unwavering dedication to the people of the Big Easy, his sense of justice and determination to protect them all, rubbed off on Grace. She carried his badge with pride, knowing that the Cooper family’s commitment to New Orleans ran as deep as their family roots.
She was shaken from her thoughts by a knock on the door. “Yeah, come in.”
Captain Brody Whalen stepped inside the office, the folder Grace had left with him clutched tightly in one hand. His green uniform shirt fit snugly across his shoulders, but he didn’t care. What he cared about was the information in the folder. “Good morning, Sheriff. Got a minute?”
Grace looked up at Brody and smiled. He had definitely cleaned up since she had seen him painting the crown molding in his home the other day. “If you have something for me on this case, I’ve all the time in the world for you.”
“Well, I think I do.” He stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. He paused at the collection of information she had gathered on her wall and tapped on the crime scene photo of the victim from the Spotted Cat Music Club in November. “Yes, actually, I do.” He pulled the picture from the board and brought it over, standing next to Grace. “We have a serial killer. I know you didn’t want to hear that, but…” He opened the folder and set the two photos side by side.
Grace looked over the pictures. She shook her head. “I’m not seeing it.”
Brody nodded. “I didn’t at first, either, but the same person killed these two women.” He pointed to the pattern of stab wounds on both bodies. “The marks are, eerily, the same. In the same place, same depth. The Stigmata marks on the hands and feet are exactly the same size, same depth, same placement. Whoever our killer is, he is precise and has favored tools. “ He nodded toward the symbol on the board. “I’ll almost bet there was also a symbol left at the Spotted Cat. “
Grace could see the pattern now. Brody was right. They were the same. “Look at you. Not even on the job a full twenty-four hours, and you’ve managed to put together more clues than we have. Good work.” She leaned back in her chair. “Now to just figure out what the symbol means and how it relates to our killer.”
Brody plopped down into the chair before Grace’s desk. “That one is beyond me, but you mentioned it seemed to glow?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, I noticed something odd in the scrapings the team pulled off the wall. There were traces of some bioluminescent compound in the blood. I sent it off to the lab to have tested, get a fix on what it is, and where our killer might’ve got it.”
“You said ‘he’ before. What makes you think it’s a man?” Grace asked in curiosity.
Brody pointed to the photos. “The angle the Stigmata marks were made. It would take someone very strong to get whatever they used through the muscles and tendons in the feet. Same with the stab to the heart. It’s straight down. Cutting through tendon and bone would take a lot of strength.”
Grace couldn’t argue with his point. His arguments were valid. “Regardless, we need answers, and we need them now. Let’s start with the symbol. I have a friend who knows a little something about symbols and witchcraft and voodoo.” She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a number she knew by heart. It rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
“Bonjou,“ said the voice cheerfully.
“Marie, it’s Grace,” the sheriff responded. She stared at the two photos on her desk before closing the folder. Her eyes met Brody’s.
“Grace! It’s been a long time since you called me. What can I do for you, cher?“ Marie LeBlanc’s voice was filled with warmth and concern. “Are you bringing me something interesting?”
“You could say that. We found a strange symbol at a crime scene. My gut is telling me it is connected to something dark. Can you meet me and my new partner at the Voodoo Emporium?” She motioned to Brody to get the symbols photo off the board. She slipped the folder into her desk dr and locked it. She didn’t want to take the chance the folder would suddenly come up missing.
Marie was silent for a few moments before finally answering. “Of course, cher. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And since you are passing the cafe, you know what I like.“ The phone clicked, and the connection was severed.
Grace sighed with relief and set the receiver on the cradle. She grabbed her badge and gun from the top desk drawer and stood up. “Let’s go. She’s going to meet us at the Voodoo Emporium. It’s her shop, but typically, it doesn’t open until the afternoon.” She walked towards the door, Brody falling into step behind her.
“Sounds like a fun place,” he replied as they walked through the station. “Think we might find something more helpful there, too?” he asked.
Grace pulled her sunglasses from her shirt pocket and put them on before opening the driver’s side door to the cruiser. “There is a good possibility. Marie has some of the most unique things in the shop.” She started the car as Brody slipped into the passenger’s seat. “Let’s hope she can tell us what that symbol is.”