Unsympathetic Magic - Laura Resnick [140]
“Martin and her first husband were cremated, and Darius’ body is missing, which means I’ll never be able to prove anything,” Lopez said in frustration. “So you can’t repeat this to anyone. Do you understand me? But I’m telling you, Esther, she killed those three men. I know she did. I can see it in her face. She got away with it, and she’s gloating. So I don’t want you anywhere near her. She’s a dangerous woman.”
My lips where trembling. My throat felt swollen. My gaze was locked with Catherine’s.
“Esther?” Lopez said. “Esther?”
“I’m with—”
There was a deafening clap of thunder overhead, and a blinding bolt of lightning split the gray sky. The lights went out and the phone went dead as rain started pouring down heavily.
“Lopez?” I said into my phone. “Lopez!”
But he was gone. The connection had been lost.
“Oh, goodness,” said Catherine. “The city has lost power.”
I shook my head, wondering frantically why I couldn’t get up. Why couldn’t I make my own legs work? “It’s probably just this neighborhood.”
“No, it’s the whole city. It must be.” The window was behind her. Although it wasn’t yet evening, the sky was so dark, now that the lights were dead, that I couldn’t see her facial expression. But I heard a chilling satisfaction in her choice as she said, “Later, you’ll see for yourself.”
“Later?” My teeth chattered with fear. Why couldn’t I move?
“When true darkness descends.”
“It’s you, isn’t it?” I was panting with terror now, like a trapped animal. “You’re the bokor, aren’t you? Celeste was just . . .”
“A tool,” she said. “In the end, a decoy. You and your friends are . . . dreadfully nosy, Esther. Darius goes missing one night, and the very next day, you, Dr. Zadok, and Detective Lopez all show up, full of detailed questions. Academics aren’t children, for goodness’ sake. I knew what you were after from the moment you arrived here.”
“Then why hire me?” I asked, trying with all my might to move my foot.
“I acted in accordance with a wise old saying: Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.” In the dim light coming through the window, I could see Catherine shake her head. “You ask me questions about Mama Brigitte, and then—what a coincidence!—Shondolyn’s mother calls me the next day to say the girl is leaving town. Good God, did you really think I haven’t known every day since you came here what you were up to?”
“I’ve only been here a few days,” I pointed out. “What were you trying to do to Shondolyn anyway?”
“Ah! You still don’t know?” She sounded smug. “Well, well. What an interesting evening this will be for you.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Celeste wouldn’t have explored these avenues on her own,” I said, breathing hard as I struggled to move my legs. “We should have realized that before now. She was too rigid. Too traditional. Her horizons were broadened by someone with a wider education. Someone who was knowledgeable about many traditions, not just the one. Black magic, ritual poisons, multiple religions, different branches of Vodou, the voodoo dolls that Celeste despised . . .” I nodded with certainty. “It all came from you, you syncretic slut!”
“I don’t think I like your tone,” said Catherine.
“And setting my bed on fire last night?” I said in outrage. “What was that?”
“Setting your bed on . . .” Catherine made a sound of amusement. “Someone set your bed on fire? My, what an interesting life you do lead.”
“That wasn’t you?” I said in surprise. “Then it must have been Celeste.”
“You overestimate her. Her skills were limited and, as you should recall, she was quite busy last night.”
“Why did she help you? Serve you?” I asked. “Whatever.”
“She wanted what everyone wants—influence, importance, respect.”
“She thought you could give her those things?”
“I encouraged her to think it. Celeste was never that well liked, you know. Not even by her own houngan. Her gifts were not well-suited to serving others. I was the one who showed her a better path to the recognition she craved.”
I heard the past tense again. The sense of finality, of a life story ended. “Where