The Forgotten (Krewe of Hunters)

“If I only had another specimen to compare him to,” Kinny told Brett, before quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry. Miguel Gomez was a human being, and I’m not trying to take that away from him. I am trying to help solve his murder. To that end, if we were just able to find out what’s happened to Randy Nicholson, I believe I could make further strides. In the meantime, I have our best neuro experts conferring with me on this.”

 

 

Brett couldn’t help but feel as if he had burst into a twisted version of The Princess Bride. A man could be mostly dead but not completely dead. Then The Princess Bride segued into a horror version of The Wizard of Oz.

 

If I only had another brain...

 

He and Diego had spent the day at the funeral home with Matt, and then the three of them had gone to the cemetery. Brett was growing more and more certain that Randy Nicholson’s body had disappeared from the funeral parlor, and not on the way to the cemetery or after its arrival. They’d found too many witnesses to attest to the coffin being sealed before being encased in cement. Diaz and Douglas had lawyered up, but under the circumstances, until they found direct evidence rather than plausible theory, there were no charges they could bring against the mortuary anyway.

 

The only thing in their favor right now was the power of social media. Randy Nicholson’s family was more than happy to vent their grievances online, and it was bound to have an effect, which might force Diaz and Douglas to be more forthcoming. After all, who wanted to bury a loved one out of a funeral home that didn’t actually get the dead into the ground?

 

By the end of the afternoon he’d traipsed over more ground and spoken with more people than he could count, and that was even with dividing the question-and-answer sessions with Matt and Diego. And none of it had turned up anything useful. He was convinced that someone at the Diaz-Douglas Mortuary Chapel knew more than they were saying; however, unless someone cracked under the pressure and gave him a clue, there was nothing he could do except keep investigating.

 

At six o’clock Matt suggested that they call it quits, at least for dinner and a breather. Just as Brett was about to agree, he got a call from Lara.

 

“Brett, Papa Joe just called me. He wants to meet—with me, I mean, and I told him about you, so he wants you there, too. And Meg, of course. He asked us to meet him at a little place called La Petite Bar. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so he’s going to come with a selection of jewelry to make it look as if he’s trying to sell something to us.”

 

“Papa Joe, who owns the voodoo store?” Brett asked.

 

“Yes. He says he may have some pertinent information.”

 

Brett was thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll come get you and Meg, and I’ll ask Diego and Matt to follow at a distance, then pull surveillance from outside or even inside, whatever they think will work. Where are you? At Sea Life?”

 

“No, we’re at my house.”

 

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

 

He filled the others in as they headed for their cars.

 

“This guy obviously feels he’s taking a chance,” Brett said quietly. “I don’t want to put a spotlight on him.”

 

“He could be guilty of something,” Diego commented.

 

“I don’t think so,” Brett told him. “He called Lara more or less out of the blue. We have absolutely nothing on the man, no reason to connect him to this case or anything else. I think he’s just trying to do the right thing.”

 

Diego shrugged. “I saw an article about him once. He’s a leader in the Haitian community, works with youth groups, that kind of thing. I’ll go with your faith in the man—with some careful reservations.”

 

“Careful reservations are always good,” Matt said.

 

They had two cars, Brett and Diego’s Bureau vehicle, which Brett took, and Matt’s rental. Diego and Matt would hang behind in the rental.

 

Brett called Lara back, and she and Meg were waiting by the gate when he arrived. He watched her as she walked to the car. She had dressed in jeans and a knit pullover. Casual wear, not designed to be provocative. And yet she moved with such natural elegance that not even a hazmat suit could be less than seductive on her. When she and Meg reached the car, he thought drily that there was no way he could be seen with these two women and not be noticed.

 

Meg stopped before getting into the car. “I was just thinking, I should ride in the backup car, too. There are people who might be watching you—just because of everything that’s going on—who know that I’m an agent. Thanks to Sonia Larson, some of those same people think Brett and Lara are a couple. It’s more natural for the two of them to be out together.”

 

“She’s got a point,” Diego said.

 

“All right,” Brett said. “We’ll make your apologies to Papa Joe.”

 

As Meg headed back to join Diego and Matt, Lara slid into the passenger seat.

 

She was wearing a light perfume, subtle rather than the overwhelming scents so many women chose. It immediately insinuated itself through his system and intoxicated his senses.

 

Yep, beyond a doubt, he was now totally infatuated with her. He felt a raw longing unlike anything he’d felt in a very long time.

 

If ever.

 

It wasn’t just her looks. Not just her eyes, her voice, her scent.

 

Maybe it was chemistry.

 

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