“I put the word out that no matter where a knife job went down, it was mine. We lucked out this time because it’s our guy.”

  “Nothing about this resembles your guy.”

  When Sebastian saw the strange but simple symbol and learned that the blood was drawn by a knife, he cursed softly.

  “You were right, kid. This guy’s got a good taste and he’s found his gig. I know you’ll bitch, but you need some help, and tomorrow you’re going to get it.”

  Sept put her fists on her hips, matching Sebastian’s stance. “I’ll take whatever you want, but whoever you bring in understands Nathan and I are the primaries.”

  “Don’t worry about that, but unless you plan to work twenty-four-seven you need some help running everything down. Get back to it, and I’ll be at your office first thing in the morning.”

  If she nodded, Sebastian would be out the door and out of her way. Because he was her father, Sept knew he never wanted to appear to show favor, but he also didn’t want to give the impression that he doubted her ability.

  “Nathan wouldn’t forgive me if you left before he had the chance to tell you how wonderful you are.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Picking up a Tulane professor I need to talk to.”

  Her father laughed. “He’s not that bad, is he?”

  “A little eager, but that never hurt anyone.”

  “Did he tell you where I found him? Why he got what he asked for?” Sebastian asked. He had followed Sept to the other side of the room to look at the numbers and symbols on Tameka’s feet.

  “Where’d you find him?” Sept checked her notes as she moved around.

  “He was one of those elite cops who eventually brought the Dome under control when all hell broke loose in there.”

  The world had witnessed the city fall into chaos in the New Orleans Superdome and the convention center. Both had turned, during the moments before the storm came ashore, into the shelters of last resort. Thousands of people with little or no supplies and water huddled inside as downtown filled with water. As the winds peeled sections of the Dome’s roof off, some of those inside began to abuse the weak.

  Once the worst of the storm was over, it had taken the National Guard and the police inside to seize control of the building and the situation. Sept had fired her weapon in the line of duty, which was unusual.

  “I guess I was too busy to notice him.”

  “He noticed you, and while he didn’t rack up any heroics, he didn’t run from his post. I wish I could say that about every cop on duty that day. So when he found out who you were, he made an appointment with me and asked.”

  “And here I thought he promised to wash your car for the next year.”

  Sebastian laughed again and held his hand out to George. “Hey, brother, it’s like a family reunion in here,” he said to his brother-in-law.

  “If you suggest that to Camille, call me ahead of time so I can watch her kick your ass.”

  “Sept,” Nathan called from the door.

  “Excuse me,” Sept said to Sebastian and George. She walked out to the small cement portico at the entry of the house. Julio had his back to her and was staring at the media, who showed some life at their arrival. “Dr. Munez,” Sept said to get his attention. “I wanted to give you another chance to skip this. We could always cover the scene through pictures.”

  “If you trust me, I’d like to help in person.”

  “Go ahead, and we’ll cover it however you want.” Let’s just hope we don’t have to clean off the victim when you throw up on her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Whatever reaction Sept had expected, Julio Munez falling to his knees wasn’t it. She and Nathan looked at each other, and Nathan moved closer to Julio and put his hand on his shoulder. “You okay, Doc? Do you need to step out for some air?”

  “When was she found?” Julio asked.

  “This morning, and we think it happened sometime last night.”

  Julio didn’t get up, but he did turn around to look at her. “Why do you think that? Are you sure?”

  “I haven’t brought the coroner’s office in yet, but I’m fairly sure,” Sept said. “Drawing from my Catholic background, candles like that don’t last more than three days in warm weather, but bodies don’t either. From the level of decomposition, I’m sure she hasn’t been here that long.” She waited for him to stand, but he turned to Tameka instead. “Like my partner asked, are you all right?”

  “Are the marks you showed me somewhere on her?”

  “The soles of her feet. Does it make sense to you now?”

  “I recognize it, but none of this makes sense.”

  Sept nodded, even through Julio hadn’t turned around again. “Take your time, Dr. Munez, but when you’re ready I’d like for you to tell us what you think.”

  “May I get closer?” Julio asked from his position ten feet from the heart and candle.

  “George, you finished on this spot?”

  “There’s nothing there, but make sure he puts some gloves on.”

  Properly attired, Julio walked on his knees until he could lean down and almost lie on the floor to smell around where the heart was placed. “I thought so,” he said.

  “Anytime you’re ready,” Sept reminded him again.

  Julio got to his feet and took the gloves off, then reached inside his shirt and took out a strand of something he wore around his neck. “Are you familiar with the Santeria religion, Detective?”

  “Santeria, like voodoo?”

  “Only those who don’t understand Santeria call it voodoo.”

  “Explain it to me,” Sept said, then focused on the scene, trying to see it in a new way. “I’ve always thought they’re the same thing, but I didn’t know human sacrifices had anything to do with either.”

  “They don’t. In Santeria some rituals call for animal sacrifice, but no true practitioner would take a human life.”

  “But this looks like a ritual killing to you?” Sept asked. “If it does, I want everything you know.”

  “The killer knew the basics of the rituals.” Julio stared at the candle, head, and rock. “Santeria is a religion the slaves brought here to keep their own beliefs even if they’d lost their freedom. So they wouldn’t get caught, though, they adopted a Catholic saint to represent each of their gods.”

  “Smart,” Sept said as she took notes. “If they were caught worshipping, then it was a saint instead of something that would’ve gotten them a beating.”

  “Perceptive, Detective. That’s exactly why they did it. The rituals have been handed down from one priest to another.”

  “Somebody went off the deep end of the crazy pool, then,” Sept said. “What does all this stuff mean? I appreciate the history lesson, but we need a place to start to find this freak.”

  “The symbol on the picture you showed me is the shepherd’s hook of Elegua, symbolized by the Holy Child of Atocha.” He pointed at the rock painted red and black. “Each god has his favorite colors, numbers, sacrificial animals, foods, herbs, and ornaments.”

  “This Elegua’s favorite colors are red and black?”

  “That’s right, as you can see not only by the rock, but also by the choice of candle container. If you smell the floor it’s aguardiente, or strong rum,” Julio said. George stepped forward and took more swabs than he had already. “Elegua loves that as well as standing water. The priest usually takes sips and spits it on the sacrifices he’s left.”

  When Sept opened her mouth, George said, “I got it. I’ll take plenty of samples for DNA testing.”

  “His numbers are three and twenty-one.” Julio pointed to Tameka’s forehead and feet. “His days are Monday or the third day of each month, so yesterday is correct on your part.”

  “So we can expect six more of these?”

  “There are more gods than days of the week, Detective. This person has committed blasphemy against the gods he wants to honor, but he obviously doesn’t care about that. He’ll do it until he gets what he wants.”

  A light rain started to fall, and when Sept heard it she hoped the crime unit had finished gathering evidence outside. The only good thing about rain now was that it brought with it cool winds that made the inside of the house bearable.

  “What else can you tell us?”

  “Why he chose Elegua,” Julio said. He had turned away from the body and was seemingly happy to stand close to the door.

  Sept could tell he’d had to force himself to look away, but the calmer he got, the more he ran his fingers along his necklace. “Can we get you some water or something?”

  “I don’t think I could swallow anything right now, but thanks.”

  “These things aren’t easy, but you’re doing great.” Sept put herself between him and the body to block his view. “You’d started to tell us why you think he did this.”

  “Elegua guards the path and the door,” Julio said, then took a deep breath.

  “The door to what?” Sept thought she’d have to rip Julio’s fingernails out to get him to speed up his answers.

  “For those who believe, Elegua and the others are called Orishas, and Elegua is the intermediary between us and the other Orishas. The ritual performed here was more elaborate than the picture you showed me earlier.”

  “If you had to guess, why’d someone do this?”

  “Find his offering and it might give you a clue.”

  Sept turned around and scanned the room. The guy took the time to clean where he’d be working, and kidnapped someone whom he then disemboweled. Granted, she was no voodoo expert, but the whole of what she saw was obvious to her.

  “The body wasn’t the offering?” she asked, and hoped she didn’t sound sarcastic.

  “Think of it this way, Detective. When you make a call, you need to put a dime in the phone.” Julio took a deep breath as if to find the courage to turn around. “She’s the dime,” he pointed to Tameka, “and the things you see are the area code and number he dialed. What you need now is the conversation he had. Elegua was summoned so he’d open the door. That I know for sure.”

  “But not why?” Sept nodded and took a few more notes. “Nathan, get the coroner in here and tell him from head to foot, and to take his time.”

  Nathan stepped around to where Gavin had been waiting right outside in front of the bay window.

  “If you don’t mind, Dr. Munez, I’ll have one of the officers give you a ride back to your office or home. Just tell him where you’d like to go.”

  “Will you call me if you find any more like this?”

  “Of course, you’ve been a big help.” Sept smiled, then realized how tight her face had become. “I do have one more question. Granted, you teach all this at Tulane, but you seem more versed in it than I would’ve thought. Why is that?”

  “I’m a professor by profession, but I’m a Bablawo by faith.”

  “Could you repeat that, only in English this time?”

  “A Bablawo is a high priest in the Santeria faith. That’s why I know a true believer didn’t do this.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sept said, and fought the urge to take him in for questioning. “Thank you for waiting until now to share that with all of us. Where you were last night? I’ll have to wait for time of death to pinpoint what part of the day I need an alibi for.”

  “I was in Baton Rouge from noon until early this morning. I’m teaching a class at LSU until Tulane starts up again. But like I said—”

  “I know, a true believer wouldn’t have done this. But you have to admit, for a nonbeliever, he had more than just the basics down. The only thing he got wrong was using a girl instead of a chicken.”

  “Elegua prefers goats and roosters. He finds chickens an insult.”

  “I’m Catholic, and the only sacrifice you make during mass is five bucks when they pass around the collection plate. The priests find chickens insulting too.”

  “You can joke, Detective, but whoever killed her was serious in what he wants from the Orishas.”

  “When the guys finish going through the room, what are we looking for as his offering?”

  “It can be wrapped in a shepherd’s hook, which could be a small stick that resembles the design under her feet, or it could be something as simple as a top or marble. Elegua is considered playful, so don’t discount any children’s toy. The offerings are usually left at an entryway, and for the Orisha to have accepted the offering, one has to have been left. Otherwise the asking for something was all for nothing.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, Sept, but the guys are finished outside and we’d like to start in here,” Alex said. He and three other crime scene investigators with him were all in their socks. They knew better than to track mud into a crime scene, and their shoes were caked.

  “Let Gavin remove the body first,” Sept said, then explained what else to look for.

  “And this offering, you sure it’s here?” George asked. He had walked over when Alex showed up.

  “He followed the rest of the ritual, so it should be,” Julio said. “But then, he wasn’t supposed to kill someone, so who knows?”

  “I appreciate all the information, Dr. Munez, and please remember what I said about not speaking to anyone about this. Have a good night and we’ll talk soon,” Sept said and walked him to the street to the waiting patrolman.

  “Sept, if we find something I’ll call you, but we’ll stay until we’re done,” George said when she got back to the front door.

  “Thanks. I’ll be up if you need anything. She was one of Brandi’s girls, so I’m going by to talk to her.” Sept moved aside as Gavin’s assistants came in with a body bag. “See you in the morning, Dad.”

  “Good call on the professor,” he told her. “Go home after Brandi’s. You two aren’t going to solve this tonight, so get some sleep.”

  Nathan followed her to the car and sat in the passenger side. “You want me to come with you for the death notification?”

  “You heard the boss, get some sleep. I’ll handle the visit and get a lead on who Tameka was out with last night. After our meeting with my father in the morning, we’ll start there.” Sept waved to him as he ran for his car, then put her hand down on the container Keegan had given her earlier. Two pieces were left, but she had to agree with Julio. No way could she swallow anything right now.

  “Just my luck to meet a woman who actually knows how to cook, and I get some religious wing nut who kills my appetite.” Sept started the car and headed for the Quarter. It was late, but for Brandi and her girls, the day was just beginning.

  *

  Wilson still had his tie on, but he’d answered the door without his suit coat. “Aren’t you up past your bedtime?” he asked Sept.

  “Crime never sleeps in this town, you know that.”

  “But neither does the fun.” He let her in and walked her to the kitchen where his dinner plate was waiting. “If you’re here for Brandi, she’s gonna be busy for a while. You want a drink or something?”

  “Maybe later, and you know I wouldn’t ask you to bother her unless it was really important.” Wilson nodded and let out a long sigh. “It’s important, Wilson.”

  He picked up the phone on the wall by the door and spoke softly. “She said to wait in the office, and she’ll be right down. You want me to walk you?”

  “Finish up,” Sept pointed to his plate, “and thanks. Again, if I could’ve waited, I would’ve.”

  “Don’t apologize, Sept. You treat Brandi and me with respect, so you always gonna get the same in return. Tell her to call me if it’s something bad.” He shook his head. “Brandi’s tough as they come, but bad news puts her out.”

  “Will do.” Sept walked to the room at the other end of the house and sat in one of the leather wingback chairs across from Brandi’s desk. The mahogany walls were lined with books, and the matted frames held an array of pictures of Brandi with political and business leaders. To them her money was just as green as everyone else’s, no matter how she earned it.

  “The only reason a detective shows up at my house at this hour is if they want a freebie or they’ve got bad news.” Brandi took a seat next to her and crossed her legs. She had on a long silk nightgown and her feet were bare, but her hair wasn’t as perfect as Sept was used to seeing it. “Considering I’ve been offering you a taste since you got out of the academy, only to be turned down, you’re here to tell me something’s wrong.”

  “Tameka Bishop” was all Sept said. Brandi squeezed the arms of her chair. “She still one of yours?”

  “I rent her a room upstairs.”

  “Come on, Brandi, I’m not here to fuck with you. Is she one of your girls?”

  “She left for a date last night, and since she’s reliable I figured the gentleman wanted more than one night. He’s a regular and she’s never had any problem.”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “No,” Brandi said, her voice close to a shout. “You know better than that, no matter how much I like you.”

  “I just left a hellhole where some asshole did things to her that were beyond cruel, and Tameka’s probably only the first of many. What’s his name?” When Brandi’s lips started to tremble, Sept slid off her chair to her knees in front of her. “He can come here, and he only has to talk to me, but I do need to see him.”

  “She’s dead?” Brandi asked.

  Sept held her hands and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “She was one of the ones who would make it out of this life. She was so close.”

  “That’s why we have to work together. This is a seriously twisted guy, Brandi, and I’ve got to find him before he kills someone else.” The tears ran down Brandi’s face but she smiled at what Sept had said. “I promise whoever her date was won’t be mentioned in any report, and I won’t embarrass him, but I need a name.”

  “When you see him you won’t need one,” Brandi said as she wiped her face. “Tomorrow night at ten I’ll invite him over for a drink. Why don’t you join us then?”

  “Thanks, and if you could do me another favor. Tell Wilson to call the girls who are out tonight. Give them the message to be extra careful and have their dates walk them to the door. If they can’t, or someone’s not back in time, call me.”