Hallow Be the Haunt (Krewe of Hunters #22.5)(34)

Shelley Broussard.

“Help me, please,” Shelley whispered.

Ashley didn’t need to turn to see that the black mist, the cloud of birds, ebony evil, or whatever it might be, was coming.

“No,” Ashley begged. “Please help me, Shelley. I need your help so badly.”

Shelley stopped. “I am Shelley Broussard,” she said. “And I am dead. They murdered me.”

“Help me,” Ashley pleaded.

“Yes… I know. I am Shelley Broussard. And I am dead. And… I want to help you.”

She disappeared.

The black mist was coming.

Ashley almost felt it.

It was cold and had a horrible feel. Slimy, and somehow as evil as the menace it promised.

Cold…like death.

Ashley woke with a start. Jake was holding her, rocking with her.

And in his arms, she felt the cold burn away, and his warmth engulf her.





Chapter 11



“Shelley’s body hasn’t been released to the family—or to Marty and Nick Nicholson,” Jake said, pacing the floor in the bedroom. He stopped and stared at Ashley. “So, yes. It’s still possible to see her. To touch her.”

“I just feel that if…if I get a real chance, I’ll be able to communicate with her,” Ashley said. “And even if she can’t tell me who killed her, if they came at her from behind and she couldn’t see them—she might be able to tell me more about Jonathan Starling. We can find out if he is sincere. Or if the people at the art gallery really are practicing some kind of weird murder rituals—and Shelley just wound up in the way. I’m just afraid that if we ask to see her body again, they’re going to think we’re stark-raving mad.”

“No, it’s all right,” Jake said, waving a hand in the air. “Jude McCoy was with the NOLA office before he was with the Krewe—he’s good at dealing with Orleans Parish and the M.E.s here. We’ll be fine.” He offered her a lopsided smile. “Hey, we’re the Krewe of Hunters. We believe in…whatever needs to be believed in.”

“Thankfully. But shouldn’t you be in New Orleans? You know I really need to stay out here. The next five nights will be hard for everyone because it’s the end of the season. I mean, I want to go into New Orleans and back to the morgue, but after that, I need to be home. Still, as far as you going back…”

“Parks is a good detective. He’s had his men out and watching Picture This, and Nick and Marty Nicholson and the young artists working at the shop. They’ve all been quiet. Either cops or FBI have followed them all and they’ve done nothing but eat, buy supplies—and deliver paintings. Oh, the woman you met at Jackson Square—Geraldine Sands—has moved in. Jackson was by there and met her. She said that she has your painting and she can arrange to have it delivered or we can pick it up.”

“It’s a nice painting,” Ashley told him. “Not quite as haunting as the one I bought by Shelley.”

“Hmm. And you just had to wear the costume that made you appear to be the same person—hauntingly brought back to life?” he queried.

“She calls to me, Jake,” Ashley told him softly.

He inclined his head, and then nodded. “All right. We’ll get to the morgue. And then we’ll get you back here.” He hesitated, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. I just don’t like it.”

“What?”

“Halloween. Even here in this place, when it’s open to the public,” he murmured.

“We know everyone working here—and costumes other than on our actors are not allowed. We have a security company and a cop. And we have Cliff, and—trust me—Frazier knows how to use his double-barreled shotgun.”

“I know. Still… He might just be a damned good liar. But Jonathan Starling remains a person of interest, you know.”

“He’s one man. And there are three killers.”

“You have three witches working your gingerbread house.”

“That would equal four.”

“There could be one mastermind—and three carrying out the plans,” Jake said. “That would be four.”

“Go to work, Jake. Don’t worry so much about me. Nothing has happened out here. I mean, first take me to the morgue. Then go to work.”

He nodded. “Think we’ll actually make it to a wedding?” he asked her.

She nodded. “And a honeymoon.”

He grinned at that and put through a call to Jackson. They drove back into the city.

The same M.E. met them and watched curiously as they studied the body. It was just Jake and Ashley this time. Jake questioned the M.E. a bit, trying to distract her so that Ashley could get closer.

Shelley remained very cold. Icy to the touch. Ashley closed her eyes.

“I’m here. I feel you. Shelley, please let me help you.”

The corpse remained cold. Jake continued to speak with the medical examiner. They left a few minutes later.

“Anything?” Jake asked when they were outside.

“I know she’s here—somewhere,” Ashley said softly. “I don’t understand why I can’t see her, hear her, when I’m awake. I know it’s her, and I’m getting closer to her in my dreams.”