“Glad to hear that,” Kelly said, smiling back.
“But I knowed you’d be stopping in yesterday,” Madame Charlotte stated. “Saw it in the cards. Terrible cards, lately, just terrible. You need to watch your step, Sergeant Lockhart, the Reaper is your sign, him who takes the souls.”
“That’s because I’m so thin,” Kelly replied.
“Laugh if you will,” the medium replied. “But you be searching for Carlane. Hisself is gone from here, gone back to whence he come.”
“Where’s that?” Kelly asked. “And why’d he leave?”
“He has the sign of the Wizard,” Madame Charlotte said, laying out the card. “And the Hangman,” she added. “He messing with powerful magic and ain’t got the training. Powerful. I wouldn’t mess with nothin’ like this and I be a mistress of the arts.” The medium laid her cards out and pointed to one. “But there’s another. This be the sign of the Princess of Wands. She’s a powerful force for Good. Good will be by your side, Detective Sergeant Kelly Lockhart. Just you look sharp for the sign of the Princess or… you won’t be lookin’ no more.”
“Do you know where Carlane has gone?” Kelly pressed.
“Aye, back to the swamps that bore him,” Madame Charlotte said. “He’s from down Thibideau way. Look you there, Sergeant Lockhart, but you be watching you back. There’s powerful art stirring in the swamp, powerful and every man’s hand against you. Look for the sign of the Princess. She be your only hope.”
Chapter Four
The first good thing that had happened since getting to this forsaken burg was that when she got to the car the tow-truck had just arrived. The driver was a short man, swarthy and with lanky black hair. He could have been the brother of the convenience store clerk. In fact, thinking back, all of the locals had had the same look, like they were all from the same extended family. Come to think of it, she wished she’d never thought of it.
“It won’t turn over,” she said as the man got out of the truck.
“Could be the battery,” he said in a thick Cajun accent. “Could be the alternator. I’ll try to give it a jump.”
He uncoiled wires as she opened the hood, then hooked up and gave her a sign. Click.
“Connections are tight,” he called from under the hood then shut it. “Got to take it to the shop.”
“Is there a mechanic available?” she asked.
“I’m the mechanic,” the man said, giving his first grin. “Mechanic, tow truck driver and owner. Claude Thibideau. I’ll get you fixed, long as we got the part.”
“And if you can’t?” she asked.
“Order it from New Orleans,” he said, drawling the name as “Nawleen.” “Sometime they can’t get out this far on a Saturday. Don’t deliver on Sunday neither. Might be Monday before I can get it fixed. You okay with the hotel?”
“Just fine,” Barbara replied, lightly, trying not to curse. It was getting very hard. “Very nice atmosphere.”
“What you doin’ down here, anyway?” the mechanic asked as he hooked the car up to tow. The truck was the old fashioned kind that actually pulled the car rather than putting it up on a lift-bed.
“Just… traveling,” Barbara replied. “Seeing new sights. Do you want me to come with you?”
“Be best,” the man said from under the car. “If it’s a part, I’ll give you a ride back to town. Ain’t much to see. Send word when I can get it fixed.”
“I’ve got a book,” Barb replied. “Could I take just a minute?”
“Sure,” the mechanic replied. “Gots all day.”
Barbara had dressed for the anticipated drive in her boots, a pair of jeans, a cream silk blouse and a dark leather jacket. But the outfit was far too warm to go wandering around Thibideau; already the town was steaming in the morning heat. So she popped back in the hotel, tiptoeing past the sleeping attendant or owner or whatever she was and slipped into the bathroom.
A quick rummage in her bag showed that she’d failed to anticipate heat at all. All of the blouses were long sleeve. The jeans she could survive and the boots were fine but she really needed something lighter. Right at the bottom of the bag her hand closed on what felt like a T-shirt. Pulling it out she frowned and shook her head. The shirt had been given to her as a joke by her sister. Once upon a time, Barb had been madly smitten with Middle Earth. When she was fourteen she had sworn that she was going to name her first female daughter Galadriel and she’d wanted, badly, to be an elven princess.
So her sister Kate, who still read fantasy and even went to those convention things, had sent her the T-shirt. Sighing, she pulled it out and changed, quickly, making sure that the color of her bra didn’t show through. It was the coolest thing she had to wear so for once fashion was going to have to take a back seat to comfort. It wasn’t like she was planning on making this place a regular stop or had anyone to impress. And if Thibideau, Louisiana couldn’t handle a… well-stuffed T-shirt with the caption “Aloof Elven Princess” on it, they could… well, that was just too bad.
“Carlane Lancereau was born in Nitotar, which is in Thibideau Parish,” Kelly said, tossing a file on Lieutenant Chimot’s desk. “Madame Charlotte says he’s ‘gone back to the swamps from whence he come.’ ”
“That’s gotta be a quote,” Chimot said, opening the file and glancing in it. “You’ve never said whence in your life. Isn’t much of anything comes from Thibideau Parish.”
“Except hookers, drug dealers and pimps,” Kelly replied. “I want to go down there.”
“Way out of our jurisdiction, Sergeant,” Chimot said, raising an eyebrow. “Why? It’s not like you don’t have enough work here.”
“Gut?” Kelly replied. “I want to see if I can find him. He’s still only a material witness, not even a suspect. Not much we can do but ask questions. And Thibideau’s got almost nothing in the way of police; we can’t just drop the detain order on them and hope they track him down.”
“We got a make on one of the johns Claudette was seeing the evening of her disappearance,” the lieutenant said, rubbing his chin. “Previous arrest for battery and a kidnapping that got downgraded to a misdemeanor solicitation charge. Judge decided he was telling the truth that he’d just picked up a prostitute and had a misunderstanding about the price.”
“Fine,” Kelly said. “Let somebody else run it down, I want to go looking for Carlane. I’ll be back on Monday, latest.”
“Go,” the lieutenant said, shrugging. “But you draw a weapon and you’d better have an iron-clad reason. One that will survive Thibideau justice.”
“You mean they’ve got a judge down there?” Kelly said, grinning, as he picked up the file and walked out the door.
“Ma’am,” the mechanic said, walking into the dirty waiting room and wiping his hands on a towel that was so grungy it was adding to the mess, “can’t hardly tell you how sorry I am. It’s the alternator, all right, and the local warehouse is flat out. Be Monday before they can get one to me. I’ll get you going quick when it comes in, though.”
“Fine,” Barbara said, closing her book and setting it back in her purse. “That will be fine.”
“I can give you a ride back to the hotel…”
“Is there a restaurant around?” Barb asked, her stomach rumbling. There was a concession machine in the waiting room but one look at the contents had convinced her not to try it. She’d rarely seen fly-specks inside of one before.