“I was going to head over as soon as I got dressed.” His voice oozed sexuality, even when his thoughts were light years from mating.
Or perhaps he only has that effect on me, she thought.
Bo cleared his throat. “What’s wrong?”
Silence. “Plenty.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can,” he reassured her.
“Great, thanks.” She let out a long sigh, pushing her hair behind her ears. She thought back to the words of love he’d whispered in that ear.
“Hey?” His voice soothed her frazzled nerves.
“Yeah, Boo?”
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “I wish you were still here with me.”
Raven smiled. “Me, too.”
Bianca came rushing into the office as Raven hung up the phone, practically knocking her over, her chestnut curls bouncing in every direction.
“The body is gone. It’s not here-not anywhere. The security team is still looking, but an immediate search shows nothing. What-how can that be?” Her voice lowered. “Do you think? Was he a…?”
“Lamai? No, definitely not-at least not when I was talking to him. He was human. Bo will be here soon. We’ll put our heads together and try to figure this out.” Sitting behind her desk, Raven handed Bianca her empty mug. “Could you, please? High test.” This day was turning out to be a living nightmare, complete with zombies. I should have stayed in bed.
“Of course,” Bianca answered. She filled Raven’s mug.
“How are Davis and Tracy?”
Bianca walked over to the coffee maker. “As you’d expect, Tracy is taking it in stride, but Davis…” Bianca poured fresh coffee into a cup from Raven’s personal machine and took a sip.
Raven nervously cracked her knuckles. “Gary Davis came highly recommended from St. Vincent’s in New York City. He’s fairly new to the area, right? That’s about all I know. What do you think? Is he up on the lore of the island?”
“He appears to know quite a bit. He was asking me the other day whether I knew there were sirens off the coast-and about how, two hundred years ago, the Nereids came and settled here, and then the fae. I don’t think he’s gotten to the meat of the history, though,” Bianca said, peering through the blinds. Raven came up behind her and gazed at the splashes of orange and crimson dotting the trees outside. “He definitely doesn’t know about the Lykans. Hell, I don’t know much about them. Do you?”
Raven smirked. “You taught me about the Lykans. My father avoided the subject of werewolves. Why do you think Gary doesn’t know about the other demons?”
“I don’t know. He just seems to be romanticizing the whole thing: beautiful sea creatures languishing on the rocks, brushing their hair and aiding the local fishermen. He hasn’t talked about the Empusas or Keris demons, either.”
Raven understood. “Hmm-the flip side. There are no love stories there. The Empusas are hideous in every sense of the word and, as luck would have it, Hekate has a soft side for them.”
Bianca rested her hip on the corner of Raven’s desk. “The Empusas have done her bidding for many centuries, but they stay away for the most part. Busy fighting with the gorgeous Keris, I suppose. Lucky for us, the patron goddess of the island has found the middle ground.”
“Has Davis claimed to see any of the sirens?” Raven asked.
“No. Not that he’s mentioned, and I’m fairly certain he would say something.”
Bianca and Raven simultaneously noticed the red blinking light on her phone. Bianca reached for it first.
“Dr. Strigoi’s office,” she answered in a professional tone. “Yes, sir…” She mouthed Mayor Dubois.
Raven winked and held out her hand, taking the phone call. “Hello, Frank, how’ve you been?”
“Raven, sweetheart. I’m good. How’s my favorite M.E.?”
“Chief M.E., remember? I’ve been better, but I guess you already know that. You heard?” Her head began to pound. This day was not off to a good start. Bianca left, closing the door behind her.
“What’s this I hear about a missing body? Is he Lamai?” Frank Dubois was Raven’s mentor, the only decent father figure she had in her life. Originally from New Orleans, Frank had close ties to the bokurs,houngans and manbos of the south. Exactly how close, Raven wasn’t sure. In spite of these connections-or maybe because of them-he and the Seacrest PD kept the island peaceful and fairly demon-free.
“Bo’s on his way, and we’re going to attempt to figure this out. Frank, I-I met the victim last night. He was alive and well when we parted ways. He did say he had something he wanted to talk to me about, but we were never able to continue the conversation.” Raven scribbled on a notepad as she recited the story of her meeting with Derrick to the mayor. Question marks filled the top half of the paper.
“Interesting. What exactly did he say?”
“Nothing, really, just that he wanted to-or rather, needed to-talk to me, and that he knew what I was. I didn’t get a chance to examine his body, obviously, but I noticed he was missing a bit of blood. Not much, and anyone else wouldn’t have noticed.”
The silence on the opposite end of the phone had her perplexed. Frank was rarely at a loss for words. “Raven, when Bo gets there, I need you two to meet me at my office.”
At that moment, Bo walked in.
“We’ll be on our way.”
Raven filled Bo in on the latest happenings at the O.C.M.E. as they headed out to his car, a sleek 1969 Ford Mustang, black and in mint condition. It had literally been owned and driven by a little old man who used it to get to the post office and the grocery store. The old man’s grandson had it in his garage for approximately twenty years and, after his grandfather passed in 1988, he sold it. Both men maintained it meticulously. Oh, and of course, it was a convertible. Bo loved his car.
Finally able to appreciate the colors of the season, Raven took in as much of the sights and smells surrounding them as she could with the top down while they drove to Town Hall. The scent of burning leaves filled the air as the sun beat down on them. A gentle breeze ran through their hair.
Roadside stands lined the landscape, bulging with bushels of the fall harvest. Signs boasting “Fresh Baked Pies” were everywhere. It was hard to believe the strange happenings that had recently plagued the office of the chief medical examiner. Then again, it was getting closer to el Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead.
The beauty of the island, including the Victorian-style homes, quaint shops, seaside cafés and Witches Rock lighthouse, was only part of its charm. Frank Dubois insisted the residents of the town of Seacrest maintain a certain style, true to its two-hundred-year history.
Holistic healers, herbalists and astrologers along with an enormous art community-not to mention fabulous restaurants-all found their businesses thriving. There were crystal shops, art galleries, antique shops, bakeries and bookstores on almost every block. Each one was successful.
It was a festive time of the year on the island of Mirabelle Cove with the upcoming Samhain/Halloween Fair. Mardi Gras in the French Quarter had nothing on Mirabelle. The islanders partied not just for one day, but from mid-October through the New Year. Most of the summer folk returned to winterize their homes and remained for the harvest fair, then they headed home for the holidays to be with their families and hunker down for the winter. Winters on the island could be, and often were, brutal.
Raven always looked forward to these months of celebration. She thought of years past, the amazing partying interrupted by hours of work, which eventually gave way to more partying. Memories tugged at her, more often than not of Bo. He was such an integral part of her life that nearly all memories included him.