The Hexed (Krewe of Hunters)

“I don’t believe he was back in the area yet when Carly Henderson was killed.”

 

 

“You may not believe,” Brent said, “but you don’t know.”

 

He hung up before she could reply. Exasperated, she almost called him back to tell him she wasn’t coming.

 

But she didn’t.

 

She was about to get back to work when her phone rang. Rocky. He wanted her to know that two of his fellow agents were on the way. One was a sketch artist who wanted to work with Aunt Mina.

 

“What?” Devin said.

 

“She wants to work with your aunt,” he repeated.

 

She stared at the phone. “My aunt is dead.”

 

“That’s fine. They won’t mind. They’re both great, and I know you’ll like them. So will your aunt.” She felt his hesitation before he spoke again. “We’re all with a special unit of the FBI, Devin. The Krewe was formed because there are people out there who can see and talk to the dead. By working together, we’re able to do better work. We don’t have to pretend to one another, or come up with some ridiculous explanation for why we know something. And of course, as we’re seeing, it doesn’t solve everything. Some souls do stay as ghosts, and some don’t, but...well, I can’t tell you how great it is that you’re one of us.”

 

“One of you?”

 

“That you can see,” he added quietly.

 

“Yes, I suppose. I mean...it’s not easy.”

 

“No,” he agreed. “See you soon.”

 

That was all. He was gone.

 

And he hadn’t given her much warning. She’d barely hung up when she heard the doorbell chime.

 

“Who is it, dear?” Aunt Mina called from the back room, where she was watching television.

 

“Two more FBI agents, Auntie.”

 

Aunt Mina giggled. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

 

“No,” Devin said dryly. “They’re coming to see you.”

 

“How lovely,” Aunt Mina said.

 

Devin wasn’t sure that any of it was lovely at all. She gave her aunt a weak smile and went to the door, looking carefully through the peephole before opening it. The two women on her doorstep were attractive and dressed in what people called business casual. The blonde introduced herself as Angela Hawkins, and the brunette was Jane Everett, the forensic artist.

 

To Devin’s absolute astonishment, even though she knew from what Rocky had told her that they could see ghosts, they greeted Aunt Mina as if she were as corporeal as they were.

 

But she prepared coffee and tea, then―when she wasn’t quick enough and Aunt Mina reminded her that they should offer their guests something to eat―went back to the kitchen and found some scones.

 

Jane was sitting on the sofa with Auntie Mina, working on a sketch as Aunt Mina described the woman she’d seen. Angela smiled at Devin and said softly, “It looks like you’re in shock.”

 

Devin admitted, “A little.”

 

“Are you having trouble accepting your gift?”

 

“I’m not sure I see this as a gift,” Devin said.

 

“Have you seen spirits before? Before your aunt’s reappearance, I mean?” Angela asked her.

 

“She did, she just didn’t admit that she did,” Aunt Mina piped in. “Comes from me, of course. And my family line. It skips a generation in our family. But the ability is very strong in Devin.”

 

“Now, Miss Lyle, I need you to focus,” Jane said.

 

“Of course, dear, of course,” Aunt Mina said.

 

Angela grinned at Devin. “So...you accepted your talent late, I take it? Not to worry—many of us did. And it’s not always easy to understand what’s really going on, since there are spirits out there we never see, and others are shy or just haven’t learned yet how to make themselves visible—not to mention audible―to the living. Even the most gifted among us.” She shook her head and smiled. “Those of us in the Krewes have been at this awhile, and we still don’t understand everything. We try, and then we hope for the best.”

 

Devin glanced over at her aunt. “I don’t know what to think. Aunt Mina saw a woman in Puritan dress. It might have been an actress, of course—there are reenactors all around the city. But...if she saw a ghost, what would that mean? Whoever the killer is, he or she might have been around thirteen years ago—but not three-hundred-plus years ago.”

 

“No, that’s very true. But if we can identify the woman you found or your aunt’s Puritan, we might be able to find out how they’re related, and that could help us solve our case.”

 

“Okay,” Jane announced, breaking into the conversation. “Here’s what I have so far,” she said, then turned her sketch pad around, showing them what she’d drawn.

 

The woman in the sketch was pretty and delicate. She had fine features, and large, light-colored eyes. She wore the cap typical of the Puritans and a white pinafore over a dark dress.

 

“Close?” she asked Aunt Mina.

 

Aunt Mina sighed softly. “Close? She’s nearly exact. But I’ve never seen her before—or since—that night.”

 

“Have you ever seen her?” Jane asked, looking at Devin.

 

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