“Coffee?” she asked Devin.
“I can wait,” Devin told her. “I already made some at Griffin’s place. But we’re going to go talk to the waitress who knew Alex and mentioned him last night, right? That means I can get a coffee there. Except we don’t know the waitress’s name, and it’s really unlikely that she works nights and mornings.”
“I’m hoping that the manager who is on duty now will at least know who she is—and possibly call her for us. If not... Devin, Griffin told me that you still write your series of children’s books featuring Auntie Mina, but that you went through the academy, joined the FBI and became Krewe of Hunters, too. You can throw some weight around, right?” Vickie asked.
Devin laughed. “I can show my badge. And yes, most of the time, people become cooperative. We’re only trying to reach one of their employees for help. I doubt we’ll need to throw any weight around.”
“Let’s hope not!”
They opted to walk to the café; it was far easier to go the distance than it was to try to find parking any closer to their destination.
“So, I haven’t met your haunting residents yet,” Devin said lightly.
Vickie glanced at her uneasily. Knowing—and conversing with!—others who saw and spoke to the dead was still a new situation for her.
“Dylan—and now Darlene,” Vickie murmured.
Devin flashed her a warm smile. “For me, it’s my auntie Mina. I love her dearly—I loved her when she was alive, and...now, too! She’s great. I use her as my main character in my children’s books. Sometimes we find her hitching a ride to head down to Virginia with us, and sometimes she chooses to stay in the cottage on the outskirts of Salem.”
“Devin, I understand about the Krewe—and the rest of the world, really. There are actually many people out there with a sixth sense, the ability to talk to the dead, find spirits, see ghosts. But last night I had a nightmare. It was horrible. I was looking for Alex because he was calling me. I wasn’t in the city—I was out in the woods somewhere. And there was water. A river or a lake. I could hear Alex crying out to me, but when I came to a clearing, I saw an inverted cross with a woman hanging from it. Her throat had been slit—and the river and the lake were blood. It was terrible. But the freakiest part is that this morning, when I got into the shower, I thought that the water started to run red—like blood. And there was dirt on my feet. Real dirt, as if I had walked through a forest. Then...it was all gone, just like that.”
“What did Griffin say?” Devin asked her.
“That I’d had a nightmare. But—”
“You think Alex is really calling out to you.”
“Yes. Griffin didn’t deny that there are all kinds of possibilities out there. I mean, if we can see the dead, maybe we can hear the living? I’ve heard of twins who each react when something has happened to only one, or cases of a mother knowing when a son or daughter in the military has been injured on foreign soil.”
“So, if the dream means anything, we’re not going to find Alex anywhere in the city. But in the dream, the person dead on the cross was a woman, right? Definitely not Alex?”
“Definitely not Alex.”
“Let’s see what we find out today.”
“I keep thinking about the words written on the victims’ chests,” Vickie said. “And that they date back to one of the first men we might consider a fanatic—twisting religion to what he wanted it to be. Ezekiel Martin. And Jehovah.”
“Maybe Jehovah is where we need to be, then,” Devin said.
They’d reached the coffee shop. Devin opened the door and Vickie entered first. Naturally, there was a line at the register and she headed for it.
“Busy time of morning,” Devin said.
“Yep. I’m usually here later in the afternoon,” Vickie told her.
They reached the register and the young woman taking orders. Vickie opened her mouth and the young woman said, “Medium latte, extra shot of espresso?”
Vickie laughed. “Yes, thank you. That would be terrific.”
“And you, miss?” the cashier asked Devin. “Are you together? Same check?”
“Coffee with a little cream,” Devin said. “And yes, we’re together. We’re actually looking for someone.” She nodded at Vickie to go ahead.
“A waitress who works here later—night shift, I believe. She’s very pretty and has dark hair. She’s about five feet six inches. Nice, polite, very efficient,” Vickie said.
“Audrey Benson,” the girl behind the cash register said. “I’m afraid she doesn’t come on until about two in the afternoon. She works the late shift.”
“It’s really important that we speak with her. We don’t want you doing anything that wouldn’t be right, but if you could call her...?” Vickie suggested.
“It’s a little busy!” the girl whispered to her.
“Is there a manager on?” Devin asked.
“You’re looking at her. And I am really sorry, but—”
Devin reached into her shoulder bag and produced her badge.
“It’s really important,” she said.
“Can you give me ten minutes and let us catch up with the rush? Then I’ll be right with you.”
“Of course,” Vickie and Devin said in unison.
They headed to the end of the bar and waited for their drinks.
A young man brought their coffees to the end of the counter. “Hey,” he said to Vickie. “I know you ordered at the counter, but you look as if you’d like to sit. Please, right over there. My table, and I don’t mind. We see you here all the time.”
“Thanks,” Vickie said. “Sure. And...really? I’m here that often?”
He laughed. “Yep—you and your friend. Alex. Well, Professor Maple to me!”
“You know Alex?”
“I have a class with him.”
Vickie studied the man speaking to her. He was, she thought, in his midtwenties, maybe even as young as twenty-one or twenty-two. He was lean and about six feet even with close-cropped black hair and warm brown eyes.
“Political science major—working my way through school,” he told them. He offered them his hand. “My name is Manny,” he told them.
Vickie introduced herself and then Devin, adding, “Devin is actually Special Agent Lyle. She’s with the FBI. We’re looking for Alex.”
“Oh?” Manny asked. “Well. He missed a class this morning. I know because a friend of mind dropped by about an hour ago to say that he was cutting class because there wasn’t a class. But I didn’t know that Professor Maple was missing. He was in here Saturday night.”
“You were working Saturday night?” Vickie asked him. “You work days and nights?”
Manny nodded. “I work whatever shift I can each week. I have some scholarship money, but college—especially this college!—isn’t cheap.”
“Good for you. And us,” Devin murmured, glancing at Vickie. “So, did you see Alex do anything out of the ordinary on Saturday night? I realize that’s probably not an easy question—hard to tell what is usual or ordinary for someone else!—but it does sound as if you somewhat know Alex.”
“Saturday was a big night. We had the music duo, the Dearborn sister and brother, Cathy and Ron.”
“A lot of people came to see the show? To stay?” Devin asked.
“Yes.”
“Did Alex speak with anyone? Did he come in with anyone? Did anyone seem to be bothering him? Did he...did he look okay?” Vickie pursued anxiously.
“Come to think of it, he was a little off. Friendly as ever—the professor is a great guy!—but he started to seem a little out of it. As if we were serving booze instead of coffee,” Manny told them.
Vickie glanced at Devin anxiously.
Could that mean something? she asked with her look.
Devin gave her a barely perceptible shrug. Maybe.
“Did you see him when he left?” Devin asked.
“No,” Manny said. “I was running around like crazy, and I wasn’t Alex’s server on Saturday night. Audrey had his table—Audrey Benson.”
“So we heard. We’re just waiting on the manager to help us get in contact with her,” Vickie said. “You don’t happen to have her number or a way to reach her, do you?”