Sins of the Demon

  The skin around his eyes crinkled attractively as he smiled. “Probably a good strategy.”

  I headed down the trail and, as described, in another hundred yards the trail opened out into a clearing that had been made into a picnic site. Beyond this area I could see that the trail continued on to a deck where one could look out over the marsh. A concrete barbecue pit held old ashes and a dusting of snow that was melting into slush. A pair of picnic tables had been there long enough to collect an assortment of carvings in their surfaces on the order of “Jenny wuz here” and “Buddy N Chelsea 4eva.” And in the scruffy grass between the tables and the barbecue pit was the dead man.

  A gangly male officer wearing a jacket with Beaulac PD Crime Scene emblazoned across the back crouched by the body, snapping pictures. Brown curls peeked out from beneath a black Beaulac PD baseball cap, and when he turned I saw a scattering of freckles across a slightly crooked nose. I didn’t recognize him, but I sure as hell knew the slim, red-haired woman in a similar jacket standing beside him. This was Jill, one of my best friends and one of the very few who knew about the demon summoning. I had a feeling the crouching officer was a trainee of some sort—a guess that was somewhat confirmed when he straightened and looked to her for guidance.

  His eyes shifted to me as I approached, and Jill turned, flashing me a smile. “Heya, darlin’,” she said. “Lovely day for a nature walk!”

  I couldn’t help but note that she wore a dark blue knit hat, a black scarf wound around her neck and leather gloves. Apparently she had checked the weather before leaving her house this morning. And hadn’t been distracted by a demon attack. “Nature and walk should never be in a sentence together,” I retorted, grimacing as a burst of wind whipped through the trees and around us. I hunched my shoulders in an attempt to bury my ears in the borrowed scarf. “This sucks ass. Tell me what you’ve found so I can finish up and get the hell out of here.”

  She laughed. “Okay, grumpypants. Tracy already gave you the gist?” At my nod she continued, “It looks to me like our vic has been here since maybe late yesterday, but the CO folks will have to give the word on that. He wasn’t dressed for cold weather. No flies, but the cold is probably keeping them away.”

  I crouched by the body. He was lying on his stomach with one hand up near his face and the other down along his side. One leg was cocked awkwardly over the other in a way that made me think he might have stumbled and collapsed. I peered at what I could see of his face. Blond hair. A mustache stained red. “Looks like he had a nosebleed,” I said. “Not a whole lot of blood.” I skimmed my gaze over the rest of him, but there didn’t seem to be any obvious sign of trauma. No jacket, just a long-sleeved Henley-style shirt, jeans, and boots. “Maybe he overdosed, or had a stroke. Do those cause nosebleeds?”

  Jill shrugged. “Ask Dr. Lanza,” she said, referring to the parish pathologist. “Who knows, maybe there’s a big knife that we can’t see sticking into his belly. We won’t know anything for sure until the CO dudes roll this guy over.”

  I nodded. There’d be no touching the body until the coroner’s office personnel got here and everything was properly photographed and documented, which meant there wasn’t much I could do except interview whoever found him. “Does his name sound familiar to you?” I flicked a glance up at Jill.

  She frowned in thought then shook her head. “I don’t think so. Why? Do you know him?”

  “Not sure. The name Barry Landrieu rings a bell, and I kind of get the feeling I’ve seen him before, but…” I sighed and straightened. “Hell, I probably arrested him once or something.” Though even as I said it I knew that wasn’t it. Damn it, this was going to bug the ever-loving crap out of me until I figured it out.

  I turned my attention to the gangly young man. “Hi. I’m Kara Gillian. I’d shake your hand but I don’t want to take it out of my pocket.”

  He gave an awkward chuckle. “Drew Blackall. Nice to meet you.”

  “Drew’s fresh out of the Academy,” Jill informed me. “He told me he wanted to be just like the CSI people on TV,” she added, face completely neutral.

  He turned a bright shade of crimson, and I grinned. “And how long did it take for her to disabuse you of that notion?”

  “About ten minutes,” he admitted.

  I was almost surprised it had taken that long. Jill had several ready-made rants about the inaccurate ways her profession was portrayed on TV and how such portrayals were detrimental to law enforcement and forensic labs.

  Jill gave a pleased sigh. “Ah, I do love shaping young minds.”

  I snorted. “All right, I’m going to go talk to the witness. I’m freezing my tits off out here.”

  “He’s a celebrity,” Drew blurted out, then flushed as we both looked at him. “The witness. I mean, um, not like a movie star, but he’s on TV and people around here know him.…” he trailed off, face coloring.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” I said. “Who is he?”

  Drew gave an eager smile. “Roman Hatch!” he said. “He’s on ESPN and he used to play for—”

  “I know who he is,” I interrupted, unable to completely hide the slight wince. “Roman Hatch. Former linebacker at LSU. They called him ‘Hatchet Man.’ Played for Green Bay and went to the Pro Bowl twice. Two years ago he had a career-ending knee injury, and now he’s a color commentator for ESPN.”

  Jill cocked an eyebrow at me. “And here I thought you didn’t know anything about sports.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know anything about sports. But I know Roman.” I paused, shrugged. “I went to LSU. And I, uh, dated him for a couple of months during my senior year.”

  The look of astonishment on her face was almost enough to make me not mind the cold. “I think this shocks me more than…um…your house,” she said. I was pretty sure she’d been about to say something about my summoning demons and had caught herself just in time. Luckily Drew didn’t seem to be aware that Jill had censored herself. He stared at me in awe as if I’d just announced I was the new quarterback for the New Orleans Saints.

  Jill shook her head and let out a low whistle. “Wow. You just don’t strike me as the type who would ever date a football player.”

  “Yes. Because I’m not,” I said emphatically. “Hence the reason we aren’t still together.”

  Her eyes flashed with wicked humor, and I knew she was dying to say something obnoxious about the type of men I currently had in my life. Good thing—for my sake—that the tech was here, and she was forced to restrain herself.

  Any further commentary was cut short by the arrival of Coroner’s Office personnel as they maneuvered their stretcher over bumps and debris in the trail.

  The Coroner’s Investigator gave me a dour nod before stooping to peer at the body. Clearly he was just as thrilled to be out in the cold as I was. He pulled on latex gloves then gave a nod to his assistant. Together they rolled Mr. Landrieu onto his back while Drew dutifully snapped pictures, and I stood back and shivered. The Investigator crouched again and ran gloved hands over the victim’s skull and carefully examined the rest of the body.

  “No obvious sign of injury or foul play,” he finally stated. “Looks like the blood is from a nosebleed. Doc’ll have to figure out if that had anything to do with the cause of death.” He stood. “You need a looksee?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I replied. A shimmer of unease swept over me as I stepped toward the body and I shot a quick glance around, suddenly weirded out for absolutely no reason I could name. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No animals or movement. Anything with any sort of common sense was surely holed up in its nest. I shifted into othersight, but it didn’t reveal anything sinister.

  Still strangely unnerved, I crouched by the body. I felt as if something was pricking at my arcane senses, far too faint for me to be able to pinpoint. Too faint to even be sure that’s what was bothering me. Maybe I’m simply delirious from the cold.

  Familiarity tickled madly as I took a hard look at the man’s face, but his feat
ures were distorted from the way he’d been lying. Impressions from leaves and dirt marred his cheek, along with the dull red tinge of lividity from the settling of the blood in his body. An ant casually traipsed across the milky white surface of his eye. Another was busy at the dried blood by his nose. The flies would be on him as soon as it warmed up. A few more days out here and the eyes, nose and mouth would be teeming with maggots, busily helping the decomposition process along.

  “Kara… ?” Jill murmured. I abruptly realized that the Coroner’s Office people were waiting for me to finish my observations so that they could get him into the body bag. Mumbling an apology, I stood and backed away a couple of steps while they rolled the body smoothly into the bag and zipped it closed.

  Jill turned to Drew. “Why don’t you go on back to the van and start in on the paperwork.” He nodded and obediently trotted after the CO people as they trundled the loaded stretcher carefully back down the trail. As soon as they were out of earshot she gave me a penetrating look. “You saw something wonky, didn’t you?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I thought I felt something strange, but I didn’t see anything.” I gave her a sharp look. “Why? Did you feel something?”

  “No. It’s just that your eyes go funny when you’re looking for your woowoo stuff.”

  I frowned at her. “Funny? What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “Hard to describe. It’s not like they glow or anything, but…they get super intense. I can almost feel it.”

  That was the first time I’d ever heard of anyone being able to tell when I was using othersight. Could Jill have some sort of sensitivity to the arcane? Or maybe it was simply that she knew what I was doing and thus read more into it.

  “Where’s your shadow?” she asked, and I knew she was referring to Eilahn. She knew about the demon and her role. That had been easy enough to share.

  “Around somewhere,” I muttered, still frowning. I didn’t worry about Eilahn. I knew that if something happened she’d be at my side in less than a heartbeat. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with this scene. I kept thinking I saw flickers of movement at the edges of my vision, easily explained by the movement of the wind through the grass and the trees. Except…

  Except it feels off.

  I fought back a shiver as I scanned the area again with othersight. Jill stood silently and patiently while I opened myself as much as possible to any arcane sensations.

  Nothing. It was simply woods. Sunlight fought to break through the clouds, scattering mottled shadows onto the carpet of leaves and pine needles. A branch scraped against a neighboring tree and droplets of moisture pattered down onto the picnic tables and the limp ashes in the barbecue pit.

  I sighed and gave her a wry smile. “Guess I’m nuts after all.”

  She chuckled. “In other words, business as usual for you.”

  I fell into step with her as we made our way back up the trail. “Life would be easier if I was nuts, I think,” I said.

  “Oh, just do what everyone else does—heavy drugs!”

  I began to laugh, then stopped dead. Barry Landrieu. Now I remembered where I knew him from.

  Jill turned back to me with a frown. “You okay?”

  I gave a slow nod. “Yeah. Sorry. I, um, just realized why the victim’s name seemed familiar.”

  She gave me a questioning look, but I hesitated. Had I ever told Jill about some of the more unpleasant parts of my past? Screw it, I decided. If she can tolerate the whole demon summoning thing, she’s not going to run screaming because of this.

  “After my dad was killed and my aunt became my guardian, I did a lot of acting out,” I told her. “Experimenting with drugs and that sort of thing. Mostly it was just smoking pot and sneaking alcohol, but sometimes it was painkillers or ADHD meds.”

  Her brow furrowed but she simply gave me a go on nod.

  “I used to hang with a girl named Tammy,” I said. “Tammy North—and she had an older brother. Half-brother actually. He had a different last name, which is why I couldn’t place it at first.” I lifted my chin in the direction the stretcher had gone. “Barry Landrieu. Tammy and I would smoke pot that he gave us. But one day when I went over there Barry gave me something new to try. Heroin. I overdosed and damn near died.”

  “Jesus,” she breathed.

  I scuffed a shoe in the dirt. “Yeah, it pretty much sucked ass.” Then I took a deep breath. “On the other hand, it was one hell of a wakeup call for me and my aunt.”

  “Is that when she tried to see if you could be a summoner?”

  “Not immediately, but about a year later Aunt Tessa ‘introduced’ me to demon summoning. She also called the narcs on Barry and they busted him pretty soon after. I thought he was still in jail, to be honest.”

  “What happened to his sister?” Jill asked.

  “Dunno. My aunt pulled strings and had me switch schools. I don’t think I ever saw Tammy again.” A sliver of guilt wormed through me. After recovering from the overdose I’d thrown myself into learning summoning, and I’d barely spared Tammy a second thought.

  I blew out my breath. “Anyway. At least now I know why the name’s familiar.”

  Jill reached and rubbed my arm. “You should go let the Hatchet Man console you in your time of loss,” she said, then danced away, laughing, as I took a swing at her.

  “You are such a bitch,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but grin. However, my mood slipped a bit as we continued on to the parking lot. I knew the victim and the witness. What were the odds of that?

  Pretty high, actually, considering how small Beaulac is, I decided. I should probably be surprised that it didn’t happen more often. Sometimes a coincidence was just a coincidence.

  Still, it was one of those things that would make me take a closer look at everyone involved.

  Tracy was on his phone, and he simply gave us a slight wave as we passed him. Jill headed to her van while I hurried on to the shack. My haste had absolutely nothing to do with a desire to see Roman again—and everything to do with my desire to warm the hell up.

  I stepped into the shack and quickly pulled the door closed behind me, breathing a silent prayer of thanks to whatever powers would listen to me that there was a space heater in here and that it was working at maximum efficiency. Beyond that there wasn’t much appealing about the interior. A small metal desk against the far wall. Two office chairs that looked like they’d been in use during the seventies. Roman sat in one of the chairs, his attention on the phone in his hand. He had on jeans and expensive-looking cowboy boots, with a black sweater and a leather bomber jacket up top. He lifted his eyes to me as I entered, recognition flaring instantly.

  “Kara?” he exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face as he stood. He was still as good-looking as ever—broad-shouldered and tall with hazel eyes set in a square-jawed face. His sandy-blond hair nearly brushed the rafters, and it was clear he hadn’t slacked off on his workouts since leaving the Packers. His whole build pretty much screamed “former linebacker.” I suddenly felt absurdly tiny. “Holy shit, what are you doing here?” His gaze swept over me, taking in my belt with the gun and badge.

  I gave him a dutifully friendly smile. We hadn’t parted with any sort of animosity. It was more of a Holy crap we are SO not meant to be together sort of thing, but still, the potential for awkwardness was definitely strong, especially since I’d been the one to end it. “Hi, Roman. How’ve you been?”

  To my surprise he threw his arms around me in a hug before stepping back to give me a once-over, still grinning. “I’ve been awesome. You look great! And wow…a cop?”

  “Homicide detective,” I replied, a little proudly.

  “That’s fantastic!” he exclaimed. Then he seemed to remember where he was and what I was doing here, and he winced. “Sorry, I mean, it is, but it sucks that I have to find out like this.” He shook his head. “Anyway. It really is good to see you, Kara.”

  “You too, Ro
man,” I replied automatically, but I was surprised to realize that I actually kind of meant it. “Thanks for waiting around. I just need to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right?”

  “No problem,” he said, dropping back into the chair. “Anything I can do to help.”

  Taking a seat in the other chair, I asked him for his driver’s license and quickly jotted down his information. Michigan license. His cell phone had an out of state area code. “You in town visiting your folks?” I asked. We were both from this area, though he’d gone to a private all-boys high school on the other side of the parish while I’d suffered at Beaulac High.

  “My maw-maw’s doing a bit poorly,” he said. “Nothing serious, but my dad needed some help moving her into assisted living. I also have a couple of investments I’m working on down here, and figured I’d check in on them.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “I mean about your maw-maw, not about the investments,” I quickly added. I’d only met his grandmother a couple of times, but she’d seemed nice enough. My grandparents had all passed away either before I was born or when I was too young to remember them. “Can you tell me what you were doing out here?” I asked.

  He leaned back, exhaled. “I used to come out here all the time when I was in high school. It was just some trails back then—it wasn’t an official park or anything with the picnic tables and parking lot.” A flicker of a grimace crossed his face, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that he’d liked it better when no one else knew about it. “Anyway, whenever I’m home I try to get out here. I like coming out to watch the sun come up over the marsh. It’s really pretty. Clears my head, y’know?”