Page 107 of The Lady on Esplanade
Despite the chill in the unheated house, dots of perspiration beaded on my forehead as a wave of nausea passed over me, making me wonder if I was coming down with something.I sucked in a breath.“Sorry, Miss Pussycat.Zeus told someone to hide the key.I don’t know what key or where it goes, but considering your annoying habit of showing up everywhere, I’m going to guess you’ve been hiding it all along.”
Leaning against the armoire, I took the doll’s head in both hands and used what was left of my strength to twist it until it popped off.The head hit the wooden floor and rolled out of reach.A wave of dizziness overtook me and I thought I might fall.I waited for it to pass and then looked down at the headless torso in my hands.
Embedded in the soft stuffing of the body lay a silver key attached to a small chain with a plastic fob.Guidry Moving and Storagewas printed in red, with a 504 phone number beneath it.I clasped the key tightly and let the doll’s torso drop to the floor.In the part of my brain that was still functioning, I thought that a storage room would be a great place to hide a body.
I blinked, unspoken words swimming in front of me.I needed Beau.Even in my current mental state, I felt embarrassed by the admission.I needed him, and not just because of his psychic abilities.But not right now.Because all I could do at that moment was stay upright and not pass out.
Scampering footsteps ran down the stairs, followed by the heavier tread that I remembered from the last time I was there.A stench of rot sent an avalanche of fear through me, making me retch.“Mark?Are you here?”
I wasn’t sure when the pieces of the puzzle had finally clicked into place.Maybe when I’d learned that Mark wore a toupee.And that synthetic hair had been embedded in the bloodstained wooden floorboards.The blood wasn’t Sybil’s, and there had been a lot of it, with strands of the hair stuck in the congealing and drying blood.Which could mean only that the blood came from the person who’d worn the wig.Mark.And there was only one reason why he would have been murdered by someone who was supposed to love him.
Ice-cold air swept through the room, and my limbs vibrated with fear.The spirit emanated pure evil.The evil of someone wicked enough to kill his own mother.I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision, which had suddenly become blurry.Think.Think.
I remembered the family photographs lining the windowsill in the elderly sisters’ house, how only one was of Mark.He was their brother, yet they had chosen not to memorialize him in photographs.I squeezed my eyes shut so I could focus on a single train of thought.I recalled what the sisters had said about his relationship with Jessica and about how she’d moved out with Lynda to live with his mother, Sybil.How Sybil had been brutally murdered and the rest of the family had disappeared on the same night.But had they really disappeared?Maybe some of them had simply escaped after retribution for Sybil’s death had been exacted.Opening my hand, I looked down at the key chain in my sweaty palm and wondered what secret it might hold.And why the dark presence in the house didn’t want it revealed.
“Mark?”I said his name out loud without knowing why.Something was muddling my brain, but not enough not to know that I had just made a grave error.
A familiar scent of perfume wove its way through the gagging stench.I shoved the key chain into my jeans pocket while my fingers still functioned.I felt drunk but couldn’t remember drinking anything.What is wrong with me?An idea floated above my head, out of my grasp, unwilling to be dissected.
Heavy footsteps sounded from the adjacent bedroom as fear constricted my throat.I knew better than to say Mark’s name again.Irrationally, I thought he might forget about me and move on.Smaller footsteps scampered around the room like a child was playing hide-and-seek.I didn’t turn to look, my gaze fixed on the words on the mirror.They floated in and out of focus, as if I were looking at them underwater.An overwhelming exhaustion consumed me, and all I wanted to do was lie down on the floor and go to sleep.But I couldn’t.There was something…a memory.Or a thought.A piece of information that whirled around my exhausted brain, telling me to pay attention.
I tried to focus on the mirror as it caught an image of something behind me.But I couldn’t turn.I could barely stand on my one good leg.I braced my arms against the armoire so I wouldn’t fall.
Pay attention.The words came from a voice inside my head.A woman’s voice that I hadn’t heard in a long time.It made me want to cry.“Mom?”I said, the single syllable slurring.
Pay attention.Forcing my eyes to stay open, I focused hard on the memory or thought that wouldn’t stop poking me.I looked back at the mirror and saw a face behind me.I blinked, and the face disappeared.And that’s when I remembered.
Beau.And me.And Madame Zoe.She was giving us the bags of stones and telling us that she’d given some to Adele.Right before she disappeared.I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think.My good leg buckled, and I slid down the armoire onto my knees.
I had found the stones.Adele’s stones.She’d had them with her when she died, and her killer had taken them along with the diamond in her engagement ring.The diamond was long gone, no longer evidence of a murder.But the stones remained with her killer, a telling clue.As the wedding bands would be if Mimi got ahold of them.And I had just told Camille that only Sarah knew where they were.
I wiggled out of my backpack and struggled to stay awake as I dug into the outside pocket for my phone.I needed to call Sarah and warn her.
“You look sleepy.”Camille’s sweet voice came from somewhere above me as I felt her tug on my backpack to slide it off my arm.
I blinked up at her, each blink slower than the last.
“That’s right, Nola.Go to sleep.I put enough of your pain meds into the soup to make you sleep like a baby.”
My cloudy brain struggled to understand what she was talking about.What was it about the soup?I could still taste it in my mouth, feel the grit on my teeth.
“Nobody will question why there’s so much of the meds in your system when they find your body, since you have a history of substance abuse.Not your usual poison, but not uncommon.”
The word “body” echoed in my head, but I couldn’t latch onto its meaning.I just wanted to go to sleep.I closed my eyes, but a cold, icy hand on my cheek startled me awake.The scent of Youth-Dew was stronger now, hovering close to me.“Sybil,” I tried to say, but only air emerged.
“I like you,” Camille said in a friendly voice.“I really do.Which is why I don’t want it to hurt.I hoped if you were sound asleep you wouldn’t feel a thing.”
She raised something that reflected the weak light from the window, and I recognized my phone.I tried to reach for it, but my hand wouldn’t obey.
Camille’s features came into focus.“I’m not a fan of technology, but facial recognition sure can come in handy.”She held my phoneover my face.I tried to distort my features so it wouldn’t recognize me, but from her look of satisfaction, I knew she’d gained access.“I’m texting your sister so she can tell me where the rings are and I can clean up that loose end.”
I felt her tugging on my feet, and then the sensation of being dragged across the floor.Searing pain from my ankle shot up to my brain, bringing a cold blast of clarity.My head bumped against the strip of wood at the threshold, jolting me fully awake.I struggled to keep my eyes open, only barely aware of Camille stepping over me.
With one last futile effort, I tried to grab hold of the doorframe, but I felt myself sliding farther into the kitchen, next to a pile of salvaged millwork.“Just give in, Nola.Go on and go to sleep, and you won’t feel a thing.”
Somewhere on the floor above us, small feet ran in circles.With a punch of dread, I heard the heavy thud of bigger feet following them.I opened my mouth to scream, expelling only a small whine of air.
Camille straightened, and my phone slipped from her hand and hit the floor next to my head.“Is there anyone up there?”she shouted, a hint of fear in her voice.I listened as her footsteps cautiously ascended the bottom steps.I smelled the perfume and felt small hands on my cheek.They were sticky, as if they belonged to a small child.Two female voices whispered loudly, the location of the source changing with each word, like in a magic trick.
