Jonas looked up at him. “If you think that she was murdered here,” he said, “it’s a matter for the local police.”
Aidan leaned on the desk. “Jonas, in the first place, Hal Vincent refuses to pay any attention to me. And in the second place, if what Zach turned up is right, she’s part of a serial case, and that puts it right smack under the Bureau’s jurisdiction, so do you think you could help me out here?”
Jonas straightened. “Yes. All right. I’ll give Hal a call. I’ll get him moving. And I’ll start looking into it, too.” He reached for the backpack.
“I’ll take it over. You just call and let him know that I’m coming. And do me another favor.”
“Of course.”
“Call that M.E. Jon Abel. If he doesn’t want to work on this, tell him to hand those bones over to someone who isn’t as famous but actually wants to work.”
“Yeah, of course.” He hesitated, then said, “Listen, Aidan, you’re not going to say anything to Matty, are you?”
“What the hell would I say to her, Jonas? Confessing to your wife is your job.”
Physical activity was always good, Kendall decided. By the time Mason returned from his extended lunch, she’d opened all the boxes, and finished restocking and redecorating the store. One customer had come in to have her tea leaves read and been so disappointed that Kendall was the only one in the store that Kendall had relented and done the reading at one of the little café tables in the main room.
The tea leaves had been tea leaves, and she’d felt ridiculously relieved. Still, the first thing she asked Mason when he walked in was what had happened to the dolls.
“What dolls?” he asked.
“The voodoo dolls. We’re missing three of them,” she told him.
“No, we’re not.”
“We are.”
He looked at the shelf, then stared at her as if she were crazy.
“I just put those up there. There were only two left, and there should have been five.”
“Oh, yeah. I sold three of them yesterday afternoon.”
“To who?”
“Some woman in a scarf.”
“What was her name?”
“I don’t know,” Mason said impatiently. “I don’t give all our customers the third degree, you know. Neither do you!”
“Did she pay with a credit card?”
“No, she had cash.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “She was really weird, come to think of it. Even for New Orleans. I thought she might be part of one of those silly vampire cults. She was wearing big dark glasses and a black cloak, with a big black scarf over her head. She had a wheezy voice, like she had a cold or something. I tried not to touch her, in case she was contagious.” He shivered, grinned, and said, “I was afraid to let her touch the dolls, but she wanted three of them. I told her they were expensive, and she just produced a roll of cash, so I sold them to her. This is a business, after all. And you’ve got to admit, we’ve sold things to creepy people before.”
Creepy people.
But could the dolls he had sold be the same dolls Zach had found? Wouldn’t it be just great if Aidan decided she had arranged for someone—Vinnie, maybe—to turn the dolls into some kind of death caricatures and leave them on his lawn?
No. The Flynns were too smart for that, and Aidan knew her too well now to think something so stupid. Didn’t he?
Yeah, he knew she believed the Death card had come to life.
“You know, I wondered if she had a skin disease or something,” Mason said thoughtfully.
“Why?”
“She wore black gloves, too.”
He looked at her, his frown deepening when he saw the worried look on her face. “Okay, so I sold the dolls to a weirdo. Big deal. What the hell is the matter with you?”
“The Flynns found three of these voodoo dolls on their front lawn this morning. I guess they were pretty messed up. Like three death warnings.”
Mason laughed. “And you’re worried?” he asked her.
“Well…”
“Only an idiot would think the Flynns could be scared off by dolls.”
That was true, she knew.
Still, the whole thing was unsettling. She decided she should call Aidan and let him know what had happened. She picked up the phone, then she set it back down.
She didn’t have his number.
“What are you doing now?” Mason asked her.
“I was going to call Aidan, and tell him about the sale and your weird woman.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know his number.”
“That’s easily solved.”
“How?”
“Call Vinnie, get Jeremy’s number, and Jeremy will know Aidan’s,” Mason said. “Heck, I’ll do it for you.”
He picked up the phone, then looked at her thoughtfully when he finished dialing.
“What?”
“Do you think the woman who bought those dolls was wearing a costume?” he asked. She didn’t get a chance to answer. “Hey, Vinnie, can you give me Jeremy Flynn’s number?” After a moment, “Yeah, it’s for Kendall. She wants to call Aidan.”