As she put the vehicle in park, Sept didn’t know what shocked her more, the surrounding area or the house they’d stopped in front of. The lower Ninth Ward had received more coverage than any other part of the city from the time Katrina had come ashore because the area had swirled with more rumors than flood water. A barge had broken free in the canal and caused the levee to give way, and it was still sitting in the middle of one of New Orleans’s oldest neighborhoods.

  The rumors had sprung up when a lot of the citizens still in their homes, since they had no means of evacuating, heard a series of what they described as explosions, and then the water came crashing in. They believed the government was trying to get rid of an area comprising mostly poor African Americans by flooding them out and blaming Katrina. The mayor’s office and the Army Corps of Engineers blew it off as the overactive imaginations of a group already stressed by the situation.

  In the end, miles of homes were flooded, and in some cases the elevated homes were carried blocks from their original locations. Driving through the streets that had been cleared, it was hard to accept that so much had been lost in so little time, but the house in front of them appeared neat and totally lived in. The lawn was green, and the wrought-iron fence that surrounded it was freshly painted.

  “Either she knows the best contractor in the city or she really can control the gods,” Keegan said when Sept clicked open her door.

  “Or maybe the tea leaf–reading business is more lucrative than running a restaurant,” Jacqueline said.

  “Let’s see which of you is right,” Sept said.

  The house wasn’t very big, but it had a deep, large porch along the front, and before they reached the steps, Matilda Rodriguez came out carrying a tray with a pitcher and glasses on it. She poured a glass of lemonade for Sept first and handed it to her when she was close enough.

  “Detective Savoie, I’m glad you came,” Matilda said, with the slightest hint of a British accent. She was dressed in a bright yellow dress with matching head wrap, which wasn’t really appropriate for December, but it complemented her light brown skin so well that Sept had a hard time imagining her dressed any other way. “Welcome to my home,” she said as she continued to fill glasses and hand them out. “Please sit, since it’s so nice out today.” Matilda was slight, but her voice held an unmistakable strength.

  “Julio said you might be able to help us interpret some things,” Sept said as she joined Keegan on a two-seater piece of furniture.

  “Do you like your drink or does it need more sugar?” Matilda asked Keegan. “You might not be able to create many sweet things, but you like the taste of sugar just as much as all the condiments you use, don’t you?”

  “It’s fine,” Keegan said, and looked at Sept with wide eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t have any more card tricks to share with you to prove I know what I’m talking about,” Matilda said, and laughed. “Although you should know that you’ve chosen well. You two are well matched, but you’ll only stay that way by walking the path of truth. That won’t be hard, though, since you’ve fallen for what I believe is the noblest of warriors I’ve seen in a long time,” she said, her words for Keegan again.

  “Now that we’ve gotten Keegan’s love life cleared up, do you mind answering a few questions for me?” Sept asked, and opened her hand when Keegan reached for her.

  Matilda nodded toward Sept. “What would you like to know?”

  “I’m sure you’re familiar with Estella Mendoza.”

  “Estella is one of my dearest friends, as was her mother. Estella told me you had the pleasure of meeting her mother before her death.”

  “I did,” Sept said, then finished her lemonade. “I’m sure you know about Estella’s missing books.”

  “I’ll help you with whatever you ask of me, Detective, but I would like to ask you a favor in return.” Matilda placed her hand over Sept and Keegan’s.

  “If it’s something I can do, sure,” Sept said.

  “The books are evidence when you find the man who’s doing this, but after that, they must be returned to Estella for safekeeping. They are our only evidence of our history and our faith, and I’m sure you’ll do everything you can to get them back to her.”

  “That’s reasonable, Mrs. Rodriguez. What has Julio shared with you?”

  Matilda pulled her necklace from under the collar of her dress and ran her fingers along the glass beads. “Someone out there is committing murder in the name of our gods and has no business doing so. Julio didn’t share the details, but I could feel the disgust of what he’d seen, just like I could feel the unrest in the land of the dead.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sept was willing to give Matilda some leeway in what she believed, but what Sept needed was facts. “He’s been able to walk us through some of the crime scenes, and he thinks whoever is doing this is a beginner who’s bending the rituals for his own needs.”

  “We call them novices, and when they decide to use the faith for ill purposes they are sometimes as dangerous with a little information as a seasoned practitioner is when they decide to use the faith for ill purposes.” Matilda closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. “This novice might have started with the faith in mind, but now the taste of blood and the power that comes from it drive him.”

  “I’m a Catholic, ma’am, and I know that when a person confesses, a priest is bound by his faith to not reveal what that person has told him,” Sept said in an effort to steer the conversation in a useful direction. “Are you bound by those same rules?”

  “I saw you admiring my house when you arrived,” Matilda said, and Sept noticed that Keegan and Jacqueline seemed fascinated by this woman. “Do you know why I’m like an oasis in a desert of destruction?”

  “We had a few theories.”

  “From the day I returned here and found that the storm had washed away much of what my late husband and I worked so hard for, my children have strived to get me back to where I feel most comfortable. And I don’t mean just my biological children. From the day I started practicing Santeria, I’ve had a following of children who seek guidance to see them through hard times and help to find love and all the other things that make us human.”

  “I’m glad they have such faith and obvious love for you, ma’am, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “If you came to me, would you like it if I shared your secrets with someone, even if they were in a position of authority?”

  Sept laughed. “That answers my question. What if I tell you my theory of this case and you add any insights. Sort of like one of your consultations.”

  “Like I said, I’ll be happy to help in any way possible, but I can’t make you listen to me, especially since you’ve made up your mind.”

  “I may not understand Santeria, but I do promise to listen,” Sept said as earnestly as she could.

  Matilda laughed and all of them smiled. “I wasn’t talking about the faith, Detective. I was referring to your case. You’ve made up your mind and you’re not willing to bend. But if you don’t, you’ll never find the truth, even though it’s right in front of you. As for what I believe and how I worship, you’re going to be like a donkey.”

  “You have a polite way of calling someone a jackass,” Sept said. She decided even if this was a wasted trip when it came to the case, she was glad she had come.

  “I would never do that, but donkeys are stubborn creatures you have to lead to water and sometimes knock them in the head to make them drink. You won’t believe what I’m telling you until you catch your killer. That is the true difference between the true believer and the skeptic—faith.”

  “I agree with you about that and about the fact that this guy is using Santeria as an excuse to kill. But I believe he’ll keep using the ritual because in his sick mind he wants what the religion can give him. He lost someone dear to him, and he wants that last conversation with her that all of us would like if we realized someone close is going to die.”

  “If you know all that, what do you need from me?” Matilda asked as she took a cigar from her pocket and prepared it to smoke.

  “I want a place to start looking for someone who might be my killer. Please don’t think I’m asking for someone’s secrets. I want what my parish priest would tell anyone if someone asked him if I was Catholic. There’s no sin in that, is there?” Sept relaxed back into the seat and put her arm around Keegan.

  “What do you think you’ll get from that list, your killer?”

  “Actually, I don’t believe that at all.”

  Matilda struck a match and puffed on her cigar to light it. “Then again, why ask me?”

  “Like you said, I have my theory of who, but if I’m wrong, something you and Julio said could lead me in the direction I need to take. A novice is someone who might not know much, but someone in his or her life sparked the quest for knowledge. Your list of names probably won’t contain the killer, but I do believe it contains the person who touched this person’s life and introduced him to your faith.”

  “Interesting train of thought,” Matilda said. From her other pocket she took a necklace similar to the one she wore and had been touching earlier. She took a deep puff from the cigar and blew the smoke on the strand of red and white glass beads. “I’ll give you what you ask for, as well as this.” Matilda held the necklace in front of Sept’s face. After she took another deep drag from the cigar, she blew around Sept and Keegan’s heads.

  “I’ve seen Julio with one of these on, but it was a different color. What are they?”

  “You wear a badge so people will know you’re a police officer, but this shows believers which Orisha guides your life. You are not a believer, but I want you to wear this for protection. After you leave here you can take it off and have a good laugh at the crazy lady who speaks nonsense, but you are a child of Chango whether you choose to accept it or not.”

  “Why do you think that?” Sept asked, before Matilda had a chance to place it around her neck.

  “His colors are red and white, his image so we’ll know him is Saint Barbara, and he is the most popular of the Orishas, but his attacks are sudden and devastating. He is the one Orisha everyone wants to follow. But true children of Chango aren’t recruited, they are born. They are unbending in their strength and beliefs, and they will not back down from any situation no matter their fear. Those are the qualities of a true Chango child, and that is you.” Matilda placed the necklace around Sept’s neck, and Sept didn’t stop her. “I want you to recognize all the signs of Chango’s identity because I believe he is the next god your killer will sacrifice to, and you will need the protection of your Orisha.”

  “Thanks, and when this is over I’ll bring this back to you.” Sept didn’t move as Matilda tucked it into her shirt and patted the area over her chest.

  “It’s my gift to you, Detective, because I want you to know what Santeria truly is. What this man is doing in its name is a travesty, but you will deliver us from this heretic.” She then took a sheet of paper off the tray she’d used to bring out the drinks. “Here is your list.”

  “Thank you.” Sept accepted the list and handed it to Nathan.

  “Only one more thing, then I’ll let you get back to your day.” Matilda stepped back so she could address both Sept and Nathan. “Who you seek will only be found by family.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” Sept asked, and came close to shaking her head. This woman wasn’t very different from the card readers around Jackson Square. Anything could become the truth they told you if they were vague enough.

  “That’s simple enough for you to remember.”

  “Thanks for your time, ma’am,” Sept said as Keegan stood after she’d squeezed her shoulder.

  “Please call me Matilda, for you will be no stranger here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Do you think she knows who it is?” Nathan asked as they drove back uptown.

  “She’ll tell you once we do all the legwork and finish our investigation. This guy wasn’t hatched, so of course he has a family,” Sept said with a laugh.

  “Don’t make fun of her, baby. She did give you a pretty necklace,” Keegan said, then brought their linked hands up so she could kiss the back of Sept’s. “Do you recognize any names on that list, Nathan?”

  “A few, but the only one I’ve met is Maria Garcia. That’s Lourdes’s mother.”

  “We’ll need her working with us this week,” Sept said. They had reached St. Charles Avenue and weren’t far from the Blanchard girls’ house. “Just one second and we’ll leave for brunch,” Sept told Keegan, once they were next to Nathan’s car. She turned to her partner. “It’s Sunday and I can’t ask you to work, Nathan, but if you have some time, drive around and try to spot Damien where I showed you this week. As soon as I’m through with my family obligations, I’ll pick up your slack.”

  “Will do.”

  “Tomorrow let’s meet with Lourdes and review this list. Matilda probably didn’t give us everyone, because it took money to transform that place. I bet a month’s pay that the people who paid for it aren’t on there.”

  Nathan folded the paper and put it in his jacket pocket. “You think Lourdes and her mom can expand on this?”

  “Can’t hurt to try. If it’s Damien, I know where the idea would’ve come from, but if it’s not him, maybe we’ll see another link.”

  “Go have fun and I’ll get started.”

  “Call me later, and if you’re still out I’ll meet you.”

  When Sept got back into the car, Keegan said, “You could’ve invited Nathan, Seven. He looked hungry enough.”

  “I’m sure Nathan wants to take a drive, then spend the rest of the day with his family. If he’s smart, that’s what he’ll do. We have a hell week ahead of us, even if there aren’t any more murders.”

  They arrived at Le Coquille D’Huîte ten minutes ahead of time, but Della and Melinda were already waiting. “Where’s Carla?” Sept asked under her breath as they approached the table.

  “She usually has rounds on Sunday mornings, so she can’t make it,” Jacqueline answered.

  “Either that or she can’t stand facing Gran every week, so she gets dressed and pretends to go to the hospital,” Keegan added.

  “We can lay bets on who’s right and I’ll let you know next week, if you want to,” Sept said. “I can get Nathan to follow her.”

  “Follow who?” Della asked.

  Keegan kissed Della and Melinda hello. “Sept was telling us war stories, Gran, but it’s not dinner conversation. Are we late?”

  “I see that you’re trainable, Detective,” Della said, and opened her arms to Sept.

  “I woke up extra early, not to repeat my mistakes,” Sept said. She kissed Della, then Melinda, when Keegan cocked her head in her mother’s direction. “Good morning, Ms. Blanchard.”

  “Please, Sept, you’re a regular. Call me Melinda.”

  “She’s a regular as long as she doesn’t screw up,” Della added, and the staff came to attention when Della sat down.

  “Gran, you promised to behave,” Keegan said as Sept pulled out her chair, then Jacqueline’s, and ended up behind Melinda’s.

  “I will, as soon as Sept answers a few questions.” Della gave the headwaiter a small wave. “What happened at your apartment last night?”

  “The paper should hire you,” Sept said, nodding to the waiter when he placed a bowl of soup in front of her. “I thought we did a decent job of keeping it quiet, so how did you know?”

  “I have my ways, so please answer my question.”

  “There was an incident that involved a fellow officer, and that’s all I can tell you right now,” Sept said, then tried Jacques’s method of evasion and shoved a spoonful of soup in her mouth.

  “A dead girl in your bed doesn’t sound like a small incident, Sept, and I hope you have the common sense to stay with the girls until this is all over,” Della said, watching Sept scoop up more soup. “If you haven’t already moved in, let me know and I’ll have your things delivered immediately.”

  “That’s so open-minded of you, ma’am.”

  “I need you there protecting my family. No one said anything about any fringe benefits.”

  Sept opened her mouth to respond and Keegan kicked her under the table. “You don’t have to fall for everything she tells you,” she told Sept. “And do we need to review Jacqueline and my ages again?” she asked Della.

  “Keegan, I love you but you’re ruining my fun.” Della appeared in a good mood until Sept’s cell phone went off. “I thought we had a deal?”

  “I’m not usually this rude, but I can’t turn off my phone in the middle of an investigation.” Sept stood and handed her napkin to the waiter who was waiting behind her. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Promise me you’ll keep your cool when I tell you this, especially since you’re coming over this afternoon.”

  “What did Mom do?”

  “Damien came by late last night while I was still at your place.”

  Sept felt like punching the wall but contented herself by biting her bottom lip. “I thought you said one of the boys agreed to sit with her?”

  “Your mother talked Joel into going to the store for her right after the phone rang. Before you start, I explained why we want to talk to him.”

  “Was this before or after she told you we were crazy and Damien could no more kill someone than she could grow horns and moo?”

  Sebastian laughed from his end. “It was before, and that’s not important.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “He wants to meet, but on his terms, and he left a number where you can reach him.” Sebastian gave her the number and she wrote it on the back of a matchbook. “Let me know what he says,” Sebastian said before he hung up.

  “You look like you’re about to bolt,” Keegan said when she joined her in the entrance to the restaurant.

  “Could I use the office to make a call? I don’t want to bother anyone if I have to yell.” Sept was completely serious. “Depending on how that goes, I’ll be right back.”