Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

S kylar watched Travis sleeping. He was gorgeous—far more beautiful than any man had a right to be and he said all the right things. Did he really mean them? Could he understand what drove her? Could he be happy with a she-wolf who wouldn't conform? Was he truly his mother's son?

Her cell phone vibrated next to her on the repurposed sewing machine cabinet they'd put on her side of the bed as a nightstand. Skylar picked it up and glanced at the caller ID. It was Robyn and it was three in the morning. Sliding out of the bed, she went to the far side kitchen area, where a bay of windows overlooked the private courtyard.

"Robyn?" she said quietly.

"My grandmother called. She says the vibrations have been disturbed from St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. I can't tell dispatch that my crazy voodoo priestess grandma thinks they should check it out."

"No, but you can tell me."

"Skylar, I really debated calling you. But Mawmaw is never wrong."

"It'll be okay, Robyn. I'll get dressed and head down there and I'll call you before I go inside. If it looks dicey, I'll call for help."

Quickly and silently, Skylar dressed, picked up her gun, put it into her waistband holster, and slipped out of the loft. This was police work, and it didn't include Travis. She'd spotted a gate made for a person to slip through on one wall of the underground parking area and decided to see where it led. Taking Travis's truck would have been easier, but it also would have meant the patrol car outside would spot her. And she was sure that would have meant waking Travis. He might be an alpha wolf and an ex special forces operative, but this was police work and Travis was a civilian.

Out of nowhere, his hard hand connected with her backside. God, he moved quietly for such a large man. Surprise and arousal fought for supremacy within her body. Arousal won.

"You and I need to come to an understanding about how this is going to work," he growled.

"Can we do that later? A friend of mine's mother is a voodoo priestess, and she says there's something off in one of the cemeteries."

"So, you sneak out?"

"I didn't sneak…" Travis arched his eyebrow at her in a gesture she had come to learn was one of annoyance and recognition that she was playing loose with the truth. "Okay, maybe I did, but this is police business."

"And you were planning to avoid the two officers out front? Try again, Sky. This is some kind of wild goose chase, and you didn't want me or the cops involved." She started to speak, and he placed his index finger against her lips. "I'm talking, you're listening. I understand and will support to a certain extent you not involving them until you know what's going on. What I won't allow is you sneaking out of our bed and running off into some potentially dangerous situation. From now on, when I wake up, I'd better be able to see you or hear you in the bath. If I don't, regardless of where you've gone or how long it takes me to catch up with you, I'll put you over my knee and you'll get disciplined. Clear?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course, you do. You can understand and agree to the consequences of not behaving, or you can choose to get your butt blistered every time you disobey. And you should know that each time will be worse than the one before it."

"Not much of a choice."

"More than most alpha wolves would give their fated mate."

"Fine. Now what?"

He grinned. "First, when we get back, you're going to get spanked." He raised his hand. "Second, that door only leads into the courtyard and there's no way out to the street from there."

"Then we have no choice but to involve the cops. Travis, this is too important and not just to my career. If we spook this guy, he could go underground or move on to another city. You aren't from New Orleans, but voodoo is an accepted form of worship here, and Chantal is well known for the accuracy of her visions."

"She has your phone number? She called you?"

"No, her granddaughter works in dispatch and Chantal has known about me and my visions since I was a child. My mother even took me to meet her many, many years ago. Her understanding of what I was seeing was eerily accurate." Skylar laughed. "Scared the hell out of my parents, but it actually made me less afraid. It's still not exactly something I want to hang my career on though."

"You need to understand that you are not to go after this guy or do anything involving this case without at least telling me what you're up to." She nodded. "You are to be where I can see you." She nodded again. "Violate either of those rules and you'll have earned yourself a spanking, and not one of the fun kind." She nodded again. "All right then, come on."

Travis led her downstairs into what would soon be the restaurant's kitchen.

"At one time," he said, as if leading a guided tour, "this warehouse was a meat packing facility and there's a locker in the back where they hung carcasses. There's a hidden door there, just in case someone got locked in by accident."

"Kind of a funny location for a meat packing place."

"Yes and no. It's convenient to the waterfront, and it's not far from train service. Back when it was built, this was a far more industrialized area than it is now."

"You seem to know a lot about this neighborhood."

Travis nodded. "When you open a restaurant, one of the most important things is its location. If it has a cool history of not always being a restaurant, all the better. The location of this place, plus the storage, size, the private courtyard, and the off-street loading area made it an ideal choice. And the loft closed the deal."

"Did your mother know your plans for me?"

"Not really. I mean, she's always known you were my fated mate, but she didn't set you up, if that's what you're asking."

"Not asking," said Skylar. "Just curious."

The door at the back of the cold storage area was smaller than an average door. She was certain Travis couldn't use it without crouching, and she was right. The door opened to a narrow alley—one where she could touch both sides with arms stretched wide. Each end of the alley was blocked by an iron gate and seemed to be overgrown with moss and greenery.

"Will those open?" she asked.

"Not without some help, but we don't have to try," he said as he took another small alley between two buildings that almost abutted the building for the restaurant. This alley was even more narrow than the first, but the gate at the end of it could be opened, and allowed them to escape without being seen by the patrol officers.

"Come on," she said. "We're going to have to hustle to get there."

Travis chuckled. "Apparently you forget how much I like to prepare," he said as he opened the door of a small building that had been completely hidden by foliage to reveal a small motor scooter in an empty storage room. "Not as speedy as the truck, but it'll do the job and we can take it places we can't take the truck."

She hopped on behind him and using mostly back alleys, they arrived at St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 on Basin Street ten minutes later. The gate into the graveyard was unlocked.

"Stay behind me," she whispered.

"Not a chance."

"I have the gun," she hissed, pulling it from the holster.

"So do I," said Travis, revealing a Glock. "As I said, I come prepared. I also brought these," he said, brandishing two small tactical flashlights. "Any idea what we're looking for or where?"

"Not a clue. Only that the vibrations from the cemetery were off. I suggest we start at Marie Laveau's tomb. Chantal and Robyn are direct descendants. My guess is if there's a disturbance, it started there. And you don't know where the tomb is, I do."

"We stay together, side-by-side."

They crept through the maze of tombs until at last they came to Marie Laveau's. They flashed their lights around the area, each walking around the grave from opposite directions until they met behind it.

"Anything?" he said.

"I wish. My gift, if it's even that, is that I've had dreams of darkness since childhood. Nothing specific, just a general dread of something bad happening. And where Chantal calls the visions or premonitions to her, mine just come randomly often with no rhyme or reason."

Skylar directed her light away from the tomb and saw what she'd feared she might find. Stifling a small gasp, she used the flashlight and her gun to make a sweeping examination of the area. Travis followed suit, inhaling sharply when he saw it.

On the iron fencing surrounding one of the tombs by Marie Laveau's, was the body of a naked woman. She had been positioned so that her torso was behind the fence, and she was leaning over it. Her wrists had been impaled on the spikes at the end of two vertical fence rails.

Skylar removed her phone from her back pocket and called Robyn in Dispatch.

"Robyn, your grandmother was right. There's a young woman, dead, impaled on the fence of the tomb across from Marie Laveau's. You send the squad cars. I'll secure the scene and call the forensics unit."

"I can call them."

"No. I recognize the victim. It's Jenny Braddock."

"Oh my God. I always thought she looked like you."

"Yeah. So did a lot of people. I'd like to call Tom personally. I think he'll want to choose who comes."

She disconnected and called the head of forensics, Tom Shadburn.

"Tom? It's Skylar."

"This better be good, Gautier. It's way too early for any of your hunches."

"It isn't good, Tom. It's bad. Jenny Braddock has been murdered. I've talked to Dispatch, they'll call patrol units and the medical examiner, but I wanted to give you a heads up. I figured you'd want to pick your team."

"You're sure it's Jenny?"

"From what I can see without moving her, yes. He left her face mostly intact, but she's impaled on one of the tomb fences across from Marie Laveau's."

"Shit. You know more than you've been letting on," he said with quiet accusation.

"I got an anonymous tip that was pretty vague. I was trying to make sure I knew what I was talking about."

"You know everyone said she was your Mini Me."

"I know. I'm worried that they're going to see this as a threat to me…"

"Because it is."

"Yes, but I know more about this guy. I spotted a pattern among several murders, but wanted to be sure before I said anything."

"You need to get somewhere safe and do it now."

"Not to worry" said Skylar. "My fiancé, the ex-Delta Force guy, and his Glock are here with me."

Tom laughed softly. "I'd feel better if you were involved as long as the danger to you can be minimized. Get on the horn with Malloy. Make your case to him. I'll do the same."

"You will?"

"Hell yes. You may be a pain in the ass, but you're the best rookie I've seen in the last twenty years. I want this bastard caught and someone with a vested interest would be of help."

"Thanks, Tom. And I'm sorry about Jenny."

"Me too. I'll make sure we have official identification and then I'll tell her family myself."

Skylar disconnected and called Chief Malloy, filling him in.

When she had finished giving him a brief summary of what they'd found, the chief said, "Shit. Put me on speaker."

Pressing the button, she said, "You're on, Chief. Travis is here with me."

"Nichols? What the hell were you thinking? There's a patrol car right outside your building."

"I know, and Skylar wasn't going to bring them or anyone in on this based on a bad dream and a hunch. She's got me for backup."

"We have rules and protocols. I can bar her from the investigation."

"You can and she can quit the force, in which case she'll just do this on her own. This sick fuck has thrown down the gauntlet. You know Sky well enough to know she's picked it up."

The chief let out an exasperated breath. "I'm holding you responsible if anything happens to her, and I pity you having to deal with her father."

"Jean-Michel knows better than to interfere with a wolf and his mate. Skylar is my responsibility now. In theory I would have liked it better if she'd wanted to be my sous chef, but I respect that she has a calling to protect the innocent and bring those to justice who seek to harm them. This is her territory. If she can't do it within your department, she will do it outside of it."

There was a shocked silence from both the chief and Skylar.

"I have no intention of losing her. She's one of the best detectives I've ever seen. What isn't she telling me?"

"Sky, that's your cue."

"He's a serial killer. There are five other murders in Orleans Parish that I believe are linked to Jenny's. I think the attacks on my car and my apartment are indications that he knows I'm on to him. I think he was looking for anything I might have on him."

"You sure you're up for this?" he asked.

"Yes, Chief."

"Can you give a briefing tomorrow, say about noon? I'll authorize a task force. You make your presentation and if a majority of the task force believes you're onto something, we'll make it official, and you'll be part of the investigation. I'll expect a list of names of those you would recommend for the team."

"Yes, sir. I'll be ready."

She hung up just as sirens and lights raced toward the cemetery.