Page 41 of No Surrender
“Leanne is expecting us. I told her a little about you so she wouldn’t be blindsided.” Michelle took a few sips and gave a satisfied moan.
“Good?” Simon asked, laughing.
Michelle sighed contentedly. “Oh yeah. Fine coffee is a thing of beauty.”
“So Leanne didn’t freak out over talking to a ghost whisperer?” Simon’s tone held a note of self-mocking.
“Please. We’re in the Lowcountry. People herebelieve.”
Michelle and Simon ducked through a “staff only” door into the service corridors that ran behind the areas guests saw. They passed the back entrance to the kitchen, then headed deeper into the interior of the hotel until they reached the large laundry facility.
They stopped at an office door with the plaque that readLeanne North, Director of Housekeeping. Michelle knocked. Simon cocked his head, trying to tune into the low buzz of energies his abilities picked up.
“Come in.”
Leanne sat behind an old desk that looked like a post-war relic. Close-cropped white hair accentuated her dark skin. Her lined face and corded neck suggested her age, but the ram-rod straight posture, strong forearms, and imperious lift to her head made it clear Leanne dealt with age—and life—on her own terms.
“This is for you,” Simon said, holding out the third coffee, which Leanne accepted with a pleased smile.
“Miss North—” Michelle began.
“Y’all call me Leanne.” She had the heavy drawl of a Lowcountry native, with a measured cadence that made each word important. Leanne looked Simon up and down. “Miss Eppie speaks highly of you, Simon.”
As soon as he entered the office, Simon placed the frisson of power from hoodoo protections. He suspected that gris-gris bags, a sprinkling of red brick dust, and other root work contributed to the strong sense of calm safety inside the small office.
“You know each other?”
She laughed, a low rumble. “Oh, yes. For a very long time. She is blessed with special gifts, and I consider her to be a wise counselor.” Leanne gestured toward the two wooden chairs across from her desk. “Please, sit. Ask your questions. I’ll tell you what I recall.”
Simon and Michelle took their seats, and Simon looked up. “Do you remember Lisa Murdock?”
Leanne’s dark eyes grew sad. “I do. That poor, lost girl. Evil took her.”
“I know it was a long time ago, but we might have new information that could help us bring closure to Lisa’s death and the other women who disappeared back then.”
“You’ve seen her ghost? You know she’s dead?”
Simon shook his head. “I haven’t talked with Lisa’s spirit, but I did talk to others from the group that went missing. I don’t have any doubt that Lisa died not long after she vanished.”
Leanne sighed but didn’t look surprised. “I wanted to hope for better, but deep down I always knew.”
Since Leanne embraced the root work protections, Simon wondered if she had a touch of heightened intuition as well. He questioned whether Thompson used magic to trap his victims or merely the sick skills of a predator.
“What do you remember about Lisa’s disappearance? Did anything unusual happen around that time?”
Leanne stared into the distance for a while before answering. “Lisa came here from a very small town. I worried about her because she wasn’t street smart, not the way some of the girls were. Myrtle Beach isn’t Las Vegas or Atlantic City, but there’s bad here with the good, just the same.”
She hesitated. “The last time I saw her was when she got on the evening shuttle. I felt a chill like someone walked across my grave. I tried to call out to her, but the door closed, and the bus took off. Then, she was gone.”
“You said she waslost?” Simon prompted.
Leanne nodded. “I suspected she was a runaway. She was like a stray dog that wants attention but doesn’t get too close because they’ve been kicked. I tried to encourage her where I could, but this is a big hotel and a large staff, and we didn’t cross paths often.”
“So no one looked for her?”
“I called her when she didn’t show up for her shift. When she didn’t answer, I stopped by her apartment, but the landlady said she didn’t know anything.”
Simon recalled Vic saying that the retired detective suspected the landlady as an accomplice—or at least someone willing to look the other way.
