A Boat, a Banshee, and a Breakdown Page 4

  “Sounded like a bird to me.” Paul put his mug in the sink. “Be safe. I have to get to the office.”

  “Bye.” I kissed him quick and he was out the door.

  “Who has time to do all of these YouTube videos?” Matt asked.

  “Technology makes it pretty easy if you’re not too hung up on HD quality,” Gunner said. “They could’ve done this one for publicity. If they know you’re back in town and want you to take the case—it’s one more enticement.” Gunner frowned.

  I took the tablet from Matt. “Not so enticing. Seems awfully convenient that they were all out on that boat. Let me see it again.”

  I watched carefully and while people could be good actors, I noticed that everyone turned at the noise. It might be just a bird but everyone heard it.

  “I need to go there first and meet these people. See if they’re really scared. One of them could’ve set up the noise so they’d all react just to get a video. Wow, I’m very suspicious,” I said.

  Matt nodded. “Smart. But it could be a setup for someone to get away with murder and blame the supernatural, too. People, can’t trust anyone these days.”

  “On that happy thought...Gunner, let me know when you’re ready. I’m going to feed the fur babies and play with them in the library.” I needed a little quiet to clear my head.

  Gunner drove and I enjoyed the quiet. Saying they lived in the bayou was sort of like saying someone lived in the suburbs—it covered a lot of area. Luckily the SUV had GPS because my brain kept jumping back to Frankie not setting ghosts loose in my house, as well as back to Greg who should’ve been my top priority if potential murder weren’t an option.

  “I’m going to track him down,” I said.

  Gunner sighed. “Greg? He’s a grownup. Just like Ivy. They can handle their own stuff.”

  “Eli has something to do with this. I’m not blaming him. He might be even more possessed than I thought. I got one out, but he might have more. He might like it, letting demons back in—inviting more. The power that comes with demons. People who feel weak might really get off on it. I just can’t let someone like that hurt my friends. Eli seems to be making them weak and vulnerable. I must’ve let my guard down or something.” I shrugged.

  “Don’t start saying that it’s your fault. You’re not the guardian of Earth or even New Orleans. That’s too much for one person. Not fair. And really don’t start with ‘the wedding was a mistake. Paul is good for you. You’re stronger,” Gunner said.

  I nodded. “I agree, on all of it. Paul is good for me. I’m not trying to be Superman. But demons have some supernatural power and tricky crap, too. They pick on any opening you have. Self-esteem or addictions—anything.”

  “I’m sure they do but most of us stay good. Decent enough. Demon free,” Gunner said.

  “Full armor,” I muttered to myself. “Greg must’ve been seeing that, too.”

  “What?” Gunner asked.

  “Nothing. Just a random thing in Greg’s books. Eli had something. He hinted that I’d be married. It was weird. Like he’s integrated those demons deep into his psyche. It’s so terrifying how a possessed person could fake being a preacher or prophet—use that power to convince people and steal money and souls.”

  “Thinking of starting a church?” Gunner teased.

  “Please. I’m not a prophet. Prophetic powers aren’t the same thing—basically it’s like my psychic powers come from the Good Place and not demons. I know where my gifts come from and check in on that. If you ever doubt me, dump a bucket of Holy Water on me while I’m asleep,” I suggested.

  “Paul might not like that wet T-shirt contest approach,” Gunner laughed.

  I smiled. “He won’t care about me. You’re gay. He might not like the wet look but he’ll hop in the shower fast enough.”

  Gunner parked the car. “Looks like that’s it. The boat is probably docked a ways away but that’s the house.”

  It looked like a big two-story rundown shack. A couple of hound dogs started barking as soon as we opened our car doors.

  “Nothing weird here,” I muttered.

  “Matt knows where we are. Don’t worry, I’m armed.” Gunner was a former police officer and former stripper so he could be as charming or intimidating as the situation required.

  “No, I’m not afraid. It’s just weird. And not bayou swamp people weird. The mix of people and feelings I’m getting is weird.” I watched as a dozen people walked out of the house, some openly carrying shotguns.

  “It’s Deanna!” shouted a preteen girl.

  “Will that episode of ‘Ghost Tamers’ never die? Always in reruns on random cable channels?” I asked.

  “You’re a New Orleans celebrity. Can’t change it, so use it for your good,” Gunner teased.

  “Ms. Oscar?” An older man stuck out his hand.

  “Deanna, please,” I said.

  His hand was rough. He wore a white stained T-shirt and worn jeans. His hat showed love to the Saints. “I’m Butch.”

  “Hi, Butch.” I nodded. “This is Gunner. He helps me out on cases. I understand you have a bit of a ghost problem.”

  “Can you really stop a banshee?” a young guy asked.

  “George, manners. Sorry about my son. I’m Butch’s wife. Everyone calls me Mrs. Butch.” A middle-aged woman with black hair in a ponytail shook my hand while her eyes darted around the yard at the kids.

  “Not Mrs. MacLand?” I asked.

  “No, nothing that formal. Would you like some sweet tea?” she offered.

  “No, thanks. I’d love to see the original video of the banshee cry, though. We saw that video just went live overnight,” I replied.

  “One of the grandbabies did that on his daddy’s phone. That’s my oldest, Kev. His wife Mary Jo and him have a bunch of kids around. George, you’ve met. Nick is my baby boy and Flo is my last baby baby. There are a couple of cousins around here too, but never mind all that.” She tried to usher me into the house.

  “Could it have been a bird or animal making that noise?” Gunner asked.

  “What?” Butch acted insulted.

  “Are you sure it was the cry of a banshee? Outside there are plenty of sounds from all areas. Animals and people,” I explained.

  “We’ve lived our whole lives around here. Bayou critters we know, I know everything around here. That sound didn’t match or come close to anything I’ve ever hunted or ran over with my truck,” he said.

  I smiled. “Good to know. No chance we could see the raw footage?” I asked Kev.

  “Kids run out the space on my phone fast. I loaded it to YouTube and deleted it off my phone. What you see is what you get.” Kev shrugged.

  “Proving if a video is real or not isn’t why we asked you here. My kids are scared. The grandbabies can’t sleep.” Butch moved in closer to me and I felt Gunner step in behind me. “I know people die, Miss Deanna. It happens every day. My work is mighty dangerous, I lost a finger to a gator when I was a teen but I didn’t stop. If it’s my turn, I’m not afraid but I don’t like seeing the little ones scared. The kids think it could be them and that’s not right. One year, we had three people die.”

  “How often does this happen?” I asked.

  “Every five years, more or less. What good is a warning if you don’t know who? You feel so helpless. It can take weeks or a month. But within a month, one person will die. We all heard LeeAnn,” Mrs. Butch said.

  “LeeAnn is the banshee? How recently did she die?” I asked.

  Butch shook his head. “Long time ago. My great-grandma’s baby sister. Died at sixteen. She was a sad girl always. Started five years after the girl died. But she’s not on the video so guess we can’t prove any of it.”

  “We just wanted to see if there were any other clues.” Gunner tried to smooth it all over.

  “This isn’t about a video.” Kev headed for the house.

  “I understand that. We just need to make sure this isn’t about publicity or attention. I’ve had people pla
y games before and it’s not fair,” I replied.

  Butch spit into the grass. “If you’re really what you say you are, then you know it’s real. Ain’t got to prove nothing. Or else you’re the fake. You don’t want to help or can’t, that’s on you missy. Thanks for coming out.”

  The banshee fear was real enough but the video was crap. No way was it taken on a cell phone. The distance would mean one of the kids was on shore while everyone else was in the boat. Or it was a rigged camera.

  “I wasn’t born yesterday,” I said. “I won’t be a joke on YouTube or help you get a reality TV show with some more exposure. A banshee is just a warning, she’s not the killer, so I’d say for now just be careful and look out for each other.”

  I turned and headed for the car.

  The family went inside, cursing and muttering about me under their breath.

  In the car, I closed the door firmly and turned on the A/C.

  Gunner climbed in and locked the door behind him. “You sure you want to blow it off this fast?”

  I shook my head. “It got heated. We need to cool things down. Too many of them all wanting to be heard or sticking up for each other, we’ll never get a straight or full story from one of them. We need to conduct some private interviews. What was that Ms. Oscar thing?”

  “I should’ve corrected him. You’re Dr. Oscar.” Gunner nodded.

  “No, I’m not that hung up on titles. I just never thought much about...I’m technically a Mrs. but I’m not changing my name. It’s weird.” I fastened my seatbelt. “Let’s go up the road about a block. We won’t get far before someone wants to talk. The case is real enough.”

  Someone would be coming after us before we got to anything like a main road.

  Chapter Five

  I checked my messages while we waited.

  “We could’ve gone in. Got a better sense of their living situation,” Gunner said.

  I shook my head. “That’s what they wanted. They wanted to gang up on us. Push their view and get a cute video. I’d be shocked if they don’t have cameras in the house.”

  “Probably but there are so many videos out there that it’s not a big deal.” Gunner shrugged it off.

  “They don’t get to yank me into their promotion crap or games. This has been happening for generations and they’re just looking for help now? It’s a convenient story. It’s true there is a banshee. I can feel the fear and there is a ghost but it’s probably not doing the killing,” I explained.

  Gunner pointed to the rearview mirror. The girl was coming on a bike. Gunner rolled down both of our windows and Flo came by my side.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Don’t leave, please,” she said.

  “Someone isn’t being straight with me,” I said.

  “Dad and the boys recreated the video for attention but it’s not a joke. We heard the banshee. She scares me,” Flo said.

  “Did you see her?” I asked.

  Flo looked around. “I can feel her. She’s mean.”

  “Mean? Or sad?” I asked.

  “Both. Normally, it’s men who are killed so they get more defensive and weirder.” Flo rubbed her eyes. “I don’t want to lose my dad. Can’t you talk to her and find out who’s going to die? How many? Maybe avoid some?”

  That poor girl. “I can try but ghosts can refuse to talk. They can go anywhere. You said her name is LeeAnn. You think she’s mean?”

  “She’s doing part of it,” Flo whispered.

  I wasn’t sure about that part but it wasn’t what our research showed about banshees.

  “Okay, I’ll try to contact her and find out. But I’m not part of your family’s videos and YouTube stuff. That’s not part of this case,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s part of everything. The guys love it. Like they’re movie stars.”

  “I understand but that’s not what I want.”

  “Florence!” shouted a man from down the street.

  “Gotta go. Thanks.” Flor turned her bike and rode off quickly.

  “That was weird,” Gunner said.

  “Yeah, I need to figure out this LeeAnn and how I’m going to interact with this family. I’m not sure there are crimes. If we stop the banshee, that won’t necessarily stop the deaths.”

  “But you said Death didn’t have anyone in the family on their list right now,” Gunner pointed out.

  I nodded. “But it changes. We’ll see. I need to get in touch with Greg.”

  I texted Greg: Need help with a case and research. Are you available or do I need to file a missing person’s report?

  Greg: Fine. Meet you for lunch.

  I smiled. “Progress.”

  Greg looked thinner. He was dressed all in black but no collar. I joined him at the open-air café. He stood up as I approached. I hugged him and he was slow to react.

  “What’s going on?” I asked softly.

  We sat down and ordered quickly so we could be left to talk.

  “How was your honeymoon?” Greg asked.

  “Good, I’m all good and back to work. Have you heard from Ivy?” I asked.

  Greg shrugged. “Sometimes. I know she’s struggling but she’s okay.”

  “You’re sure?” I pressed.

  “People go through things, De. Not every relationship works out. Even ones that do hit bumps.” Greg sounded like a priest giving me advice.

  “Cut the crap. Where is Eli?” I asked.

  “It’s not all his fault,” Greg defended.

  I sat back and tried to remain calm. “That’s not what I asked. You know where he is. You’re in contact with him?”

  “It’s my fault. I brought him into our lives. He had the right training. He was young and strong. It’s my fault, don’t blame him,” Greg said.

  “But he’s the problem. He needs to get help. Why did you bail on my house and Mary Lou? You blew up your life because you made a bad friend? That’s not logical,” I said.

  “Life isn’t logical. I’ve been pulled back to the religious for a while. Mary Lou saw it first. You didn’t want to,” Greg replied.

  Our food arrived but I had no appetite. Once the server was gone, I pushed food around my plate a bit trying to find a new angle. Had I just missed stuff?

  “Okay, you want a religious life, fine. But that limits what cases you can work on. The church has its own rules. That’s part of why you left.”

  “I know.” Greg glared at me and for a split-second fear gripped me.

  “Greg, I’m not trying to be rude or treat you like a child but you’re my friend. I feel like I failed you and Ivy. I didn’t see what Eli was. I didn’t see what was going on. You’re both part of my team and maybe I was relying on you both too much. I’m sorry. Let me help you now. Tell me what you need.”

  Greg shook his head. “You still blame Eli.”

  “He did have a demon in him. Running around like an expert and he’s infected? That’s Vatican arrogance. I’m not trying to trash any one religion but all of them—all are run by men. Men aren’t perfect and they can let greed or power go to their heads. If the system doesn’t have checks and balances, it’ll let people take advantage. Hell, even with checks and balances our government is crazy. Religion is more dangerous because people will go on faith.” I put my hand on his and he didn’t flinch. “You don’t need to take vows or submit to the rules of others to be useful to God or to be good.”

  “I know.” He pulled his hand away. “I’m not infected with demons. I can’t be with Mary Lou. It won’t work.”

  “Okay, that’s not my biggest concern. You want to be single, fine. You want to work with monks and priests who exorcise for the diocese, fine. But you need to stay independent. To help people like Eli. How can you be sure someone is safe and test things if you’re blindly trusting the church and its training?” I asked.

  “God stopped talking to me,” he said.

  People at the next table glanced over.

  “Greg, are you hearing voice
s?” I asked.

  “No, not like that. I used to feel what was right. Pray and God would lead me to the answer. It worked. It’s not working anymore. I can’t feel it or hear it. Do you hear it?” he asked.

  “I don’t hear it like I hear you. I hear angels talk and demons. Ghosts, sure. God...I never got that deep into Heaven.”

  “No, here. Can you hear it?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and went deep into myself. That place where your conscience and soul reside. “The words sort of appear. The answers come as thoughts, not a voice.”

  “But it’s God. You know it.”

  I looked Greg straight in the eyes. “Yes. You want to know what I get?”

  Greg shook his head. “No. It’ll serve your purpose.”

  “No. You think I’m going to lie about what I’m getting? I don’t want to be struck by lightning.”

  Greg smiled. “I don’t think I want to know.”

  “You need to come to my place.”

  “A mansion is too luxurious. I don’t need that,” Greg said.

  “Right, the austerity. I saw your room. Paul and I slept there last night. We’re doing a little remodel on my bedroom for more closets and another bathroom for Paul. I’m fine with you wanting a simple life but God made Gran rich so she could devote her life to helping people. True?” I asked.

  “True,” he said.

  “I inherited it all so I can spend my life doing the same. Is that okay or should I move to a simple tiny house and sell the mansion?” I asked.

  Greg shook his head. “You are not me.”

  “You aren’t greedy. You’re not materialistic,” I said.

  “But I am. I wanted Mary Lou and her money. Her status. Her freedom from cares about any of it. I didn’t mind working but the luxury of things—everyone has a weakness. I knew mine young. I wanted everything the rich kids had that we didn’t,” Greg confessed.

  “Okay. You’ve done a great job of hiding that from me. Do you ever really know someone?” I joked.

  “You might. But I buried that desire. I loved Mary Lou but not the right way. Not the way she deserves. I go from wanting it all to wanting to give it all away. You’re right. Power. Pride. Living religious forces me to be simple.”