“They haven’t been able to give us anything yet on the place we found Tameka,” Nathan said. “That section of city hall partially flooded, so they’re cleaning up. The woman I spoke with said they’ll get back to us in about three weeks.”

  “Three weeks? They need to step it up. That might be a lead.”

  Nathan nodded and flipped to the front of his notebook. “I explained that to her, but I’ll try again.”

  While Nathan was on the phone Sept picked up the pictures of the knots around Erica’s ankles. They were the same ones used to tie Frieda Hearn down, and Sept tried to place where she’d seen something tied like that before. Nothing came to her so she Googled “intricate knots.” The third entry on the list was the Boy Scouts, and when she clicked on it, she found a page on their Web site that dealt with knots and their related badges. Novice had used the most difficult one on the page.

  Sept clicked on it and followed the directions to tie the knot. Even if the killer’s victims were unconscious from the Taser gun, this particular knot took time unless it was second nature. “Who practices something like this?” she asked herself.

  Even though this time Novice’s ritual had completely fallen apart, he hadn’t left behind one print that could identify him quicker than his DNA.

  Nathan ended his phone call. “After the housing division got more than a few calls from their higher-ups and the police chief, the woman I talked to said they may have something by either this afternoon or tomorrow at the latest.”

  “How about the knife? Anything on that yet?” Sept stopped at the picture of Erica’s forehead and the number seven Novice had put there in Erica’s blood.

  “The only true specialty knife store left in town is in the Riverwalk Shopping Mall, and the guy who runs it told the officer I sent over there that this model is mostly sold for display and not for hunting. The chrome finish isn’t practical in the field.”

  “He’s right.” Sept put a picture of the knife next to the one she’d been looking at. “It’s more like the finishes on swords you see in movies. Not practical for the field, but perfect for someone who thinks of himself as a warrior, don’t you think?”

  “I guess, and before I forget, Lourdes said her mom is available today if you want to finish the list you were working on the other day before Novice called.”

  Sept nodded but didn’t raise her head. “Where are Lourdes and Bruce?”

  “Helping George finish up at the scene, since he’s shorthanded.” Nathan dropped into the seat next to her and started to pet Mike. “Alex had to take a few days off because his little boy got sick, but he should be back by Monday.”

  “Tough break, but call Lourdes and tell her to pick her mother up before she comes back here. We can go through the last few names, and that’ll give us enough time to run by Tulane for our next crazy religion class.”

  “You think the seven has to do with one of the gods or you?”

  “I’m not that egotistical,” Sept said, and laughed. “But like my mother, seven must be one of the Orishas’ favorite number.”

  Mike got up when Sept did and went with them to the campus, where Julio reviewed the pictures and consulted a couple of books. He gave them the information they already had from Erica’s statement as to what god Novice had picked and what he stood for.

  “I was wrong,” Julio said as he handed back all the pictures she’d brought with her.

  “How so?” Sept asked.

  “I really thought he’d pick Chango next, not his brother. At least that’s what I speculated he was building up to.”

  “Why do you think he deviated?” Sept asked.

  Julio shrugged and fingered his necklace. “I’m not really sure, but he may have more to prove than we realized.”

  “Can I ask you something, professor?” Nathan asked, and Julio nodded. “If you teach different beliefs from around the world, why did you decide to practice Santeria?”

  “What faith are you, Detective?”

  “Baptist, but I’m not the best one out there.”

  Julio laughed along with Sept. “Then you’re one of the lucky few who get to pick what you believe and whether you want to follow what the church teaches you, since you had to agree to be baptized. I believe your partner is Catholic, and that set of beliefs is chosen for you at birth, when you’re baptized without giving consent.”

  “Fascinating, but what does that have to do with his question?” Sept asked.

  “Sometimes religion is chosen for you, and sometimes the religion chooses you. That’s what happened to me the first time I went to a Santeria ritual.”

  Sept bent forward in her seat, now more curious than Nathan to hear what Julio had to say. “Who took you to this ritual?”

  “I may appear white, but my grandmother is Matilda Rodriguez’s sister. I grew up around Santeria, but the Orishas didn’t take hold of my blood until I tried to turn away from it. No matter how far and hard we run, Sept, sometimes we can’t outrun who we are.”

  “Then you aren’t much different from me in that your religion was chosen for you,” Sept said with a smile. “Some of us just take it more seriously than others.”

  “Do you mean me or you?” Julio asked.

  “I’m not knocking what you believe, and I’m grateful for your help on this case, but I’ve never needed a priest or anyone else to show me what faith is about. So I’m talking about me when it comes to not taking the divine very seriously.” She stood up and shook hands with him.

  “I see my aunt has given you a present.” Julio pointed to the necklace Sept wore. “You wear the warrior’s colors well, Sept, but be careful when you find the guy you’re looking for that he doesn’t mistake you for a true believer.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “His last letter said he will kill the warrior who tries to stop him. The colors you wear around your neck mark you as the next sacrifice.”

  “If that happens, he’ll get his wish to see his wife again, only he won’t need a séance to get in touch with her,” Sept said before she left.

  *

  When they got back to the precinct, Sept had a hard time finding a parking place. Since the failed attempt on Erica’s life, Fritz Jernigan had assigned new officers to follow any new leads. He had told Sebastian to find the guy as soon as possible so he could stay ahead of any bad press.

  “This is about to become a nearly uncontrollable zoo,” Sept said as she circled the block again. “That crowd can cover everything that’s going on, so let’s swing by the lab and see if George has anything.”

  “Are you sure we don’t need to get in there?” Nathan glanced over his shoulder at the building as Sept turned the corner.

  “Trust me, we won’t be missed for a while.”

  A few newcomers were working in the lab, mostly watching computer screens as a series of prints flashed on the screen. George was swabbing the knife in different locations.

  “Anything?” Sept asked as Mike sat at her feet.

  “A few partials that could belong to the previous owners, but I want to be sure. As for this knife, I’ll probably get DNA off the handle that’ll match the blood at the scene, along with a good set of Erica’s prints on the blade.”

  Sept saw the same frustration she felt. Mike started pulling on his lead as he started to growl. He was acting so uncharacteristically she almost took him back to the car, then realized what was upsetting him. Mike was the only survivor, aside from Erica, who’d seen the killer, but he could identify clues not only by sight but by smell. The handle of the knife held no prints but it had a scent, one that even Novice’s injuries hadn’t erased.

  “It’s okay, boy, you’re okay,” Sept told him when she got on her knees to comfort him, but he wasn’t growling near the table where George was working.

  “What’s wrong with him?” George asked when Sept let the leash go and Mike walked to an office chair and bared his teeth.

  “Who sits here?” Sept asked as Mike barked and glanced back at her.

  “That’s Alex’s desk.”

  “Where is he again?”

  “His wife called and their son is sick. He hated to go now, but his family’s important to him.” George stepped closer and stood next to Sept. “I put some stuff down there earlier while I set up another scan on his computer for prints. Think that’s what he’s picking up on?”

  “It could be. I haven’t had him very long, but this is the first time I’ve seen him act this way.” Sept picked up the lead again and tried to get Mike to back away. “Come on, Nathan. Let’s go to the office and I’ll call Keegan to pick him up. Let me know if you find anything, Uncle George.”

  Mike wasn’t moving, and he alternated from barking to looking back at Sept like he desperately wanted to tell her something. When Nathan opened the door and Sept didn’t let up her gentle pressure, he finally relented.

  “I thought we were going back to the office,” Nathan said when Sept put Mike in the back seat, got in, flipped open her phone, but didn’t start the car.

  “We are, but I want to do something first.” She spoke to the operator who answered at police headquarters and asked for Alex’s home address. “There’s no way I’m right, but this will bug me all day if I don’t check it out.”

  Nathan took the note from her and shook his head. “If this is where he used to live, let’s take off before dark. I doubt anyone’s around, and there’s no streetlights.”

  It was five past five, and Nathan was right. “I want a quick look, then we’ll go back so we won’t keep Lourdes’s mother waiting.” Sept glanced at Mike, who was still agitated and pacing in the backseat.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The house wasn’t hard to find, even though it was in one of the most devastated areas in the city. About five blocks from the University of New Orleans, it was the only one for blocks with a FEMA trailer in front of it. On one side stood a line of dead shrubs, and on the other, half of a plastic playhouse that once resembled a medieval castle.

  Out front was a pile of trash that had probably resulted from Alex’s attempt to clean the inside of his house, but judging by its height it had been there for weeks. Sept saw no signs of regular trash pickups by contractors hired by FEMA. She stared at the place in the waning light and almost got back in the car, not wanting to walk through another mold-and trash-filled house, but it would take only a minute to ease her overactive imagination.

  She told Nathan, “Leave Mike in the car and check out back to see if you find anything out of the ordinary.” Her car door sounded extra loud when she shut it in the deserted neighborhood.

  “Holler if you do the same inside,” Nathan said, accepting the flashlight Sept held out.

  They knocked on the trailer door first, since what Sept assumed was Alex’s car was parked alongside it. No answer, so Sept pointed to the backyard. “Come inside when you’re done.” She clicked on her light and walked to the front door of the house.

  It was locked, and she was willing to buy Alex another one but she didn’t want to come back here if she could help it, so she put her shoulder into it. One sweep with the flashlight and she reached for her gun before she stepped inside. The house had been cleared of its clutter, which wasn’t strange, but the order Alex had left behind raised alarms in her head.

  He had put the rotting furniture back in place, including the magazines that still had some shape, and the only thing recognizable was the picture sitting on the warped coffee table. It had obviously been taken in the yard next to the castle playhouse.

  Alex stood next to the structure holding a little boy, who appeared to be about three, and next to them was a slight young woman, looking up at Alex instead of the camera. The pose was as surreal as the room it sat in, since the woman didn’t seem to adore Alex.

  “What the hell?” Sept said softly as she walked back to the kitchen and found the same order as in the front room. The table was covered in a thick layer of black and yellow mold, but it was still set for dinner, including a Spiderman plate and spoon. Upstairs, the bedrooms were in the same flooded but neat condition, except the master bedroom.

  The bed linens were starting to tear, but they looked slept in. But that wasn’t the strangest thing in the room. Two candles, one red and the other white, burned under the mirror, giving off a soft light that flickered and danced on the walls. Finally Sept stepped in to examine the undamaged, handwritten book laid out and open on the dresser.

  A beautifully drawn sketch of Saint Barbara dominated the top of the left page, followed by a recipe of what needed to be done to sacrifice to Chango. Sept staggered back a step. Novice wasn’t just a cop. He was part of her team. “Holy mother of God,” she said softly, but hesitated to call Nathan or any kind of backup.

  “The mother of God has no place here,” Alex said as he shot the probes of his Taser into Sept’s back. He laughed as she fell to the floor and twitched. “You’re early, but I’m sure Chango won’t mind that this isn’t Friday.”

  “Don’t even think of waiting until then,” Teacher warned.

  “Why would I do that when the ‘great warrior’ made this so easy?” From the nightstand he retrieved a set of handcuffs and leg shackles and put them on Sept, not wanting to take any chances she’d come to quickly.

  Alex held his side as Sept’s chest rose and fell, still shocked that he was looking at her. At first the closing car doors had panicked him from the one place his son had always said was the best spot on the property. From the castle outside he’d watched Sept do her usual scan of an area before she took her first step, and when she turned away from him, Alex had looked to the sky and sent a silent thank-you to his son. He’d been in the castle with the spirit of his child, trying to think of his next move.

  “He was thanking me for setting him free of the bitch who was his mother,” Alex said, trying to decide how to get Sept downstairs. With his injury he couldn’t even drag her the whole way.

  “Let her do all the heavy lifting,” Teacher said, and he finally materialized in front of him in the form of his late grandfather, but just as quickly morphed into the shape of his late wife. “We’re so close now that you don’t want anything to go wrong.”

  “We’ll see if death has made you any smarter,” Alex said in disgust. “I hope so, because it’s your fault I’m in this mess.”

  “I’m sorry,” the image of Sonia Perlis said from where she hovered near the mirror.

  “Not as much as you’re going to be.”

  *

  Sept kept her body relaxed as she listened to Alex talk to someone who seemed to be across the room. The stun gun had left her with a wicked headache and a body as sore as the first time she’d been Tasered, part of her police training. With her eyes closed and from what little she remembered of the room, she tried to place him. The creaking indicated he was sitting on the bed, most probably rocking, to make the springs move like that.

  The conversation Erica had described about Teacher didn’t sound like what she was hearing now. In that short time Alex had apparently gone from the underling to the aggressor, since his accomplice was somewhere in the room taking the abuse Alex was dishing out.

  “You’ve slept long enough,” Alex said, and kicked Sept’s rib cage.

  No matter how much longer she wanted to play possum, the gasp she let out at the sudden attack gave her up. “Relax, Alex, I won’t hurt you,” she said, and almost laughed, since she could feel the cold metal encircling her hands and ankles.

  “You’re a riot,” Alex said, and kicked her again. “Get up and don’t make me wait too long, or I’ll kill you up here and be done with the whole thing.”

  “Where are we going?” Sept asked as she sat up and saw he had his uniform on. The crime scene guys wore it only for official occasions since they usually preferred dark pants and a polo shirt underneath a vest with enough pockets to carry all their equipment. “And why can’t we talk here?”

  “Do I need to cut you to prove who’s in charge?”

  Since the knife he’d used for the other murders was sitting in George’s lab, Alex had replaced it with what looked like a regular kitchen knife with a rusty blade, probably from one of the drawers downstairs. Sept glanced at it but stayed focused on Alex.

  “Why are you doing this, Alex?” Sept got on her knees, still wobbly from the Taser shot. “Think about your family.”

  “I’m doing this for my family, so don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” With Sept’s gun in his other hand, he started walking backward toward the stairs. “Don’t make any sudden moves or you won’t get your surprise.”

  “You’ve murdered six people and you’ve got nothing to say? I find that hard to believe.” Sept decided that she might have a better chance to try to free herself out in the open, so she shuffled along.

  “You call it murder, but I did what was necessary. Besides, most of them were a waste of humanity.” When Alex reached the bottom of the stairs, he disappeared for a moment but was back quickly with the picture she’d seen on the coffee table. “I needed to make the sacrifices to get my family back.”

  “Like I told you on the phone, if they died in the storm it’s not your fault, and all you need is help to accept their loss.”

  Alex pushed her toward the back door, causing Sept to stumble into the small table and bring the dishes down with a crash. “Shut up and move.”

  It was now fully dark outside, but Alex had set up three spotlights that shone on an area near a swing set that measured about five feet by five feet. The rest of the yard was covered with weeds and dead grass, but there the dirt was level and as black as the night sky. As strange as that was to Sept, it wasn’t what captured her attention.

  Two silhouettes were up in the air under the swing set. One of them had to be Nathan, which destroyed any chance that he’d gotten away to call for backup.