The Hexorcist Read online

  She shot him a withering look. “I’m sure you already know that. But, since we’re pretending to be all friendly and stuff, it’s Debbie. I’m Debbie Darbin.”

  Sully’s smile never wavered. “It’s nice to meet you, Debbie. I’m glad that we have a chance to talk. I’m sure you have an opinion on Kim.”

  “Oh, I definitely have an opinion on her.” Debbie’s expression darkened when it landed on Stuart. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I told you she was trouble from the start. I always thought Brett could do better, although he was hardly a catch.”

  Sully had to stop himself from crowing. He figured the woman would be a fountain of information from the moment she opened her mouth. He wasn’t going to be disappointed. “What was wrong with Brett?”

  “Nothing,” Stuart replied hurriedly. “He was a good guy, a great friend.”

  “He was kind of boring,” Debbie countered. “He wasn’t the sort of guy you would consider fun. He wasn’t a bad guy. I should stress that. He was just weird sometimes. Kim made him weirder, though. I definitely didn’t like them as a couple because she seemed to be a control freak.”

  Sully tilted his head, considering. “You’re basically saying that she was the boss in the relationship.”

  “Oh, she was definitely the boss.” Debbie ran a hand through her snarled hair. “She told Brett what to do and he did it. Period. It was a little freaky at times because before she came into his life, Brett was pretty careful about the women he dated. He wanted a specific type ... and Kim was the opposite of that type.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Sure.” Debbie bobbed her head without hesitation. “I didn’t really like Brett when I first met him because that first party we were all at together, he took the opportunity to sit me down and ask if I had any friends he might like. He explained that he wanted a woman who was happy being a homemaker, didn’t want a power career, and who thought being a mother was the greatest thing in the world.”

  Sully was taken aback. He had no problem with homemakers — his mother was one, after all — but that seemed like an unenlightened attitude given the times. He was a firm believer that every woman should have the choice to be whatever they wanted to be and that men should keep their noses out of it because it had nothing to do with them. Of course, he was raised with a mother who wasn’t afraid to make her opinions known and three older sisters who had very clear ideas on what they wanted to do with their lives. His father was the easygoing sort who simply agreed with whatever was suggested to avoid a fight. Sully often found himself channeling his father when dealing with the women in his life.

  “And Kim isn’t like that?” he asked finally.

  Debbie let loose an unladylike snort. “Not even a little. She was the exact opposite of that. She was a career woman ... although she’s never even graduated from college.”

  “How does that work?”

  “She was a secretary at a law office. She’s taking classes to be a paralegal while working.”

  Sully hardly thought that was anything worth disparaging. “It sounds like she’s trying to better herself. Maybe she didn’t have the money to go to college straight out of high school.”

  “Oh, I have no problem with that,” Debbie offered hurriedly. “I’m not saying that I look down on her or anything. I actually find her pretty impressive. She’s the driven sort. I am, too. It’s not that I begrudge her a stepping stone to getting better things in life. It’s just ... she’s weird.”

  “Can you elaborate on that?”

  “Well, for starters, it took Brett a really long time to introduce her to us. Our group is fairly tight. We do a lot of things together. Brett was often the odd man out because he didn’t have a girlfriend for the longest time. He started dating Kim months before he introduced her to us, though.”

  “Maybe he was simply nervous,” Sully suggested. “You guys were obviously important to him. You were the main arc of his social circle. I can see being leery about introducing his new girlfriend to you guys, especially if he really liked her. If the introductions didn’t go well, it would’ve forced a change in the way your group interacted.”

  “Not really.” Debbie made a face. “It’s not as if we were going to be mean to her. We wouldn’t do that for the simple fact that it was always difficult when Brett was the odd fifth wheel. No matter what, we were going to like her because she made our lives easier. Okay, maybe ‘like’ isn’t the operative word. We were going to accept her, though.”

  “But you didn’t like her from the start,” Sully mused. “You were determined to like her and didn’t, which means you stuffed down your feelings.”

  “That’s exactly what we did,” Debbie agreed. “We wanted her in the group because it made things easier. We figured we could put up with her even if she was one of those women who ate her hair in public.”

  “I take it she did something else that annoyed you.”

  “Pretty much. The first night we met her, she made it a point to tell us about all the lawyers she dated before Brett. She made it seem as if she didn’t care about anything other than the fact that the man she was involved with happened to be a lawyer. It was like a status thing or something.”

  “That could be because she grew up poor,” Sully noted. “That wouldn’t be unheard of in certain circles.”

  “No, but she went into explicit detail. Like ... she told us stories about having sex with these guys and she made fun of any deficiencies they might have. She also reenacted Brett’s sex face for us, and we barely knew her. It made us uncomfortable.”

  Honestly, Sully could see that. “So ... she was an oversharer.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. We wrote it off that first night. We thought she might’ve been nervous. She got worse the more times we interacted with her, though. It was gross ... and uncomfortable.”

  “And how long had she been dating Brett before this trip?”

  “Four months,” Stuart volunteered. “He fell hard and fast for her, which was unlike him. He was usually the sort of guy who would date a woman casually for two months before even contemplating spending the night with her. He really wanted to get to know her first.

  “He was the exact opposite with Kim,” he continued. “He was basically in love with her after two dates and couldn’t stop gushing over her, to the point where we were confused when he refused to introduce us. One night, when we were all out having beers together, he admitted that was her idea. She didn’t want to meet us.”

  Sully didn’t know that the statement was enough to increase his suspicions about the woman, but it certainly didn’t make him feel better. “Witnesses said that Kim had a date last night. Who was that and where did he come from?”

  “I have no idea where she found him. His name was Lance. She didn’t volunteer a last name.”

  “Did you think it was weird she had a new boyfriend so quickly?”

  “She didn’t explain herself to us and we didn’t ask. The whole thing is uncomfortable. We feel as if we need to keep her with us even though we don’t like her. She traveled to New Orleans with us, though. We can’t just abandon her.”

  To Sully, the situation just got curiouser and curiouser. “Did she leave the bar with him last night?”

  “Yes,” Debbie answered. “She brought that guy back to the room Brett paid for. I know because I saw them getting on the elevator together. It was insulting to Brett’s memory.”

  “It definitely sounds that way.”

  OFELIA WAS ONLY IN THE COURTYARD for ten minutes before she caught sight of Kim. Despite having a late night, the woman looked bright-eyed and alert. She was alone, no man in sight, and she seemed to be focused on her destination more than anything else.

  Because she didn’t have time to dilly-dally, Ofelia made up her mind on the spot and followed. She intended to text Sully with her location but forgot about the plan relatively quickly. Kim didn’t paint the picture of a tourist as she cut through the streets. She seemed to kno
w exactly where she was going and didn’t as much as glance at her phone to check GPS.

  What was going on here?

  Ofelia made sure to keep a reasonable amount of space between them. Once they distanced themselves from Bourbon Street, it became more difficult to hide behind tourist groups. Kim was so focused on her trip, though, she never once glanced in Ofelia’s direction. That made things easier.

  After a few more blocks, Ofelia was relatively assured that she knew where Kim was going. She wasn’t disappointed. Sure enough, the woman didn’t stop until she was directly in front of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. There was a tour group meeting there, and Kim produced a ticket out of nowhere and handed it to the guide. Ofelia was legitimately surprised.

  Perhaps the tour had been planned from the start, she internally mused as she followed the group into the cemetery. She produced a bolt of magic strong enough to bamboozle the guide and convince the woman that she should be there — tour guides were necessary to enter the cemetery now thanks to graffiti problems — and she hung toward the back of the group as she watched Kim interact with other tourists.

  She wasn’t smiling. She didn’t seem happy. She showed polite interest as the tour guide pointed out various sights. She didn’t seem interested in the conversations the other tourists were engaged in, although she answered any questions directed at her. Instead, she appeared to be in her own little world. Ofelia was familiar with the cemetery — she’d spent her fair share of time there when it came time to participate in various rituals — and she figured she knew the history of the cemetery better than the guide. Her attention was always on Kim, however, who continued to act as if she was only mildly interested in what was happening as they made their way through the cemetery.

  Once they reached Marie Laveau’s tomb, Ofelia took a moment to pay her proper respects to the queen of Voodoo. When she turned to search the group again for Kim, she found the woman had managed to disappear. She was taken aback and took the time to scan each face in turn, wandering around so she could stare down the various paths throughout the cemetery. It was only after a full five minutes that she realized Kim was well and truly gone.

  She separated from the tour group at that point and engaged her magic. She was determined to track down the woman, who she realized had purposely disappeared. To her utter surprise, she came up empty. Either Kim had left the cemetery or she’d managed to cover her tracks in a manner that Ofelia wasn’t familiar with.

  The realization left Ofelia dumbfounded. Why did she run? How did she manage to do it without Ofelia noticing? Had she realized she was being followed all along?

  Those were all important questions and Ofelia had zero answers.

  Fourteen

  Ofelia wasn’t the sort who could hide her frustration. She sent a terse message to Sully once she was outside the cemetery, telling him she’d lost Kim — and still wasn’t sure how — and then promised to meet up with him for lunch later. Until then, she had a few sources she wanted to tap.

  The first was Scott Bishop. He worked as a tour guide for one of the top companies. He had three he regularly participated in, but his favorite was the Murder, Voodoo, and Vampire Tour. He once told Ofelia that nothing got his juices going more than the idea of creepy murders. She found that odd, but he was a good source, and a genuinely nice guy, so she didn’t hold it against him.

  She found him at his favorite bar — it was too early for tours, after all — and he was nursing a pale ale when she slid onto a stool next to him.

  “Oh, as I live and breathe,” he drawled. “If it isn’t my favorite witch.”

  Ofelia glanced around to see if anyone was listening, but the woman behind the bar, a heavily-tattooed siren with platinum hair and a rack so big Ofelia was surprised she could remain upright, was so focused on her phone Ofelia had to wonder if she even realized she had patrons. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t spread that information around,” she growled.

  Scott snorted. “Please. Anyone who has ever met you realizes that you’re a witch. You’re not fooling anybody.”

  “You would be surprised at how many people I can fool. I’m not here to talk about me, though. I’m here to talk about Henrietta.”

  Scott didn’t overtly react, instead sipping his beer as he regarded her. The lights in the bar were neon, which gave his bald head an eerie pink glow. He started losing his hair in his thirties he once told her and decided to lean into it. There was an entire contingency of women who preferred bald men and he liked to appeal to his target demographic.

  “I heard about what happened to her.” His expression was grim. “That’s a sad thing. You want to know what’s really weird? I led one of my tours down Pirate Alley that same night. It must’ve only been a short time before she was killed in there. It’s creepy to think about ... although it’s going to add another story to my murder tour.”

  Ofelia made a face. “How wonderful for you,” she drawled. “As long as you get something out of the deal, Henrietta’s murder was obviously worth it.”

  “Oh, don’t get high and mighty.” Scott was in no mood to kowtow to Ofelia’s whims. “Everything in NOLA is a business. You know that as well as anybody. Henrietta knew it, too. She would be tickled to think that people will always remember her as part of the Quarter’s great lore. Don’t pretend that she wouldn’t have been thrilled with the turn of events.”

  Honestly, Ofelia had thought the same thing herself at some point. She’d at least had the grace to feel guilty about it, though. “I don’t think Henrietta was happy about being killed. I’m pretty sure she wanted to live a bit longer.”

  Scott’s expression darkened. “I don’t disagree with that,” he acknowledged. “She’d been struggling for weeks with the idea that she was dying. She still thought she had time, though. It seems especially cruel because she didn’t have long to live. I don’t know why that should be the case, but that’s what I find myself thinking about most often.”

  That was interesting, Ofelia internally mused. Scott was in on the big secret, too. At least part of it. “When did you find out she was sick?”

  “A few months ago. I saw her at the clinic and she had a huge bag of medication. She admitted it to me, probably only because I saw her in a weak moment. She was feeling especially down that day. She said the doctor only gave her a few months to live and then threatened me if I told anyone. She didn’t want to appear weak.”

  “That sounds like Henrietta.”

  “It does,” he agreed. “She was a tough old broad. I’m betting she put up a fight before going down in Pirate Alley.”

  “I don’t think she did,” Ofelia countered. “Whoever carried it out came up behind her and attacked from the rear. She didn’t even know what was happening until it was already too late.”

  Scott arched a brow. “That doesn’t sound like Henrietta. She wasn’t the type to turn her back on anyone.”

  “Unless, maybe, she was with someone she considered a friend.”

  Realization dawned on Scott’s face and with it was a hot flash of rage. “You’re saying one of us killed her.”

  “You and me? No. I don’t think you killed her and I know I didn’t.”

  “Not that.” His expression twisted into a grimace. “It wasn’t a tourist or one of the outsiders who regularly comes in and tries to cause trouble before we run him or her out. This was one of the regular faces we see in the Quarter.”

  Ofelia couldn’t deny the assumption. “That would be my guess. That’s one of the reasons I’m here. You keep your ear to the street. Have you heard any rumors about Henrietta of late?”

  He hesitated before answering. Ofelia could identify the moment he decided to play the game. “Normally I would call you a few names for digging into someone’s personal business — this is the Quarter after all, and that’s not allowed — but I’m guessing you’re trying to avenge Henrietta. Am I right?”

  He was only partially right, but Ofelia knew better than confiding everything to him.
“I need to know what happened. I was with her earlier in the day, before she died. We were at Cafe du Monde. I can’t help feeling that if things had gone down differently ... .” She didn’t finish the statement.

  “You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” Scott countered, lightly patting her hand. “I get why you would feel guilty. It’s human nature to look back and want to change things. That’s what we all do when faced with something like this.”

  It was more than that — by a long shot — but Ofelia needed to keep Scott from getting suspicious. “You should know that Henrietta wasn’t dying ... at least not any longer. Somehow she managed to get better.”

  Scott furrowed his brow. “How is that even possible? She was positive she was dying. I don’t think she would’ve believed anything of the sort without a legitimate medical diagnosis.”

  “Probably not,” Ofelia agreed. “My father had been hanging with her a bit. She wanted to talk to his estate lawyer, so at one time she believed she was dying. The next time he talked to her, though, she told him it was a medical error and she was fine.”

  “You’re being very careful in how you’re phrasing things,” he noted. “To me that seems to indicate that you don’t believe that story.”

  “Some things have come up.”

  “Like?”

  “Like ... do you think it’s possible Henrietta was selling hexes for money? I know that doesn’t seem like something she would’ve done, but I’ve heard from multiple sources that she might’ve been doing just that.” Technically, that was a lie. She had conjecture about the hexes but no gossip. However, Ofelia didn’t feel guilty about feeling Scott out in the least.

  “I heard that, too.” Scott’s grin was rueful. “I didn’t believe it the first few times because Henrietta was such a stickler about those witchcraft rules she was always bandying about. Once I heard it a few more times, though, I couldn’t exactly pretend it wasn’t a possibility.”