“That’s exactly what I’m saying. She was a happy, bubbly, excited young lady the day she left to go party with her friends. By the next afternoon, she looked like death. I’m worried something traumatic happened to her, and rather than talk about it, she’s letting it eat her from the inside out.”
“What kind of traumatic event are you thinking could’ve happened?”
“I don’t know.” The woman dropped her gaze to the dark liquid in her cup again. In a smaller voice, she asked, “Maybe she was sexually assaulted?”
Victoria gasped and pretended to scribble that on her notepad. No way was it sexual assault.
“We’ll certainly look into it, ma’am. Is there anything else you can remember that she might have said or done? Or perhaps she mentioned what bar she and her friends went to?” Vance asked.
“No. She didn’t tell me, and the only things that were different were her looks and behavior. She was sullen and snapped at me when I tried to run her out of bed. That’s never happened—not even when she was a teenager. I don’t ask her questions anymore. After all, she’s twenty-one years old. What she does is none of my business, really.”
Vance and Victoria shared a look. They knew they’d get nothing more and couldn’t afford to waste time on Natalie when there were so many on the list.
Rather than get up and leave right away, they continued with idle chitchat for about ten minutes before standing, thanking the woman, and showing themselves out.
“She seemed really distressed. I know I would be if it were my daughter.” Victoria shivered. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever have children, but she knew if she ever did, she’d worry for his or her safety. Children were something she often contemplated since she and Vance got married, but she knew such offspring would be the un-holiest of creatures. If God had wanted that to happen, He would’ve made it possible. She and Vance had never used protection, so if it were meant to be, it would’ve already been. They’d been together since the fifteen hundreds; that was a long time to not have a happy accident.
“I know exactly what you mean.” Vance’s hand squeezed her knee. They’d talked about children often in the beginning. “Who’s next on the list?”
“It looks like her name is Krystal Jones. Make a left at the stop sign.”
As he drove toward the next house on the list, Victoria’s apprehension grew. She knew they had to find the source, soon, or scads more people would lose their souls. In a city like New Orleans, where people came to get in trouble, having someone stealing souls was absolutely terrifying. I just wonder who’s behind it all.
Their next target’s house was only about five miles away. When they drove up, Victoria took note of how beautiful the house was. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
Her husband’s bottom jaw dropped as he gazed at the huge house at the end of the tiny dirt driveway. “I am.”
“Do you think this house has always been here?”
“It certainly doesn’t look like it, does it?”
“Nope.” She gestured at the ground where there were several marks that looked like heavy equipment had recently driven over it. “This looks like new construction.”
They parked and got out of the car, making their way to the front door where Vance knocked. When no one answered after a few minutes, he pressed the doorbell. Two loud chimes could be heard echoing through what was probably a massive hall on the other side of the door. He lifted an eyebrow at Victoria.
She shook her head, her eyes darting left and right as she tried to take in the grandeur of it all. All the while, something was gnawing at her belly. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it could be though. Something just felt off.
When the door opened, there was a glamorous woman with perfectly coiffed hair standing on the other side, both fists on her hips, her long, fake nails sparkling in the sunshine. “Can I help y’all?”
“Yes, ma’am. We are agents Smith and Hardy from the FBI, and we’re following up on a report that was filed about your daughter, Krystal.”
“Oh! There’ve been so many people coming to my door over the last two days, I wasn’t sure if you were looking for money or what. Y’all come on in.” She turned on her four-inch Louboutin heels and clickety-clacked through the foyer.
Victoria shot a look at Vance that could’ve withered a flower because she saw his eyes firmly glued to the beautiful woman’s rear end.
He shrugged and laughed. “Hey, it’s better than Gabriel, right? At least I don’t have a pass with her.”
“Drop it.”
“As you wish.”
Victoria’s eyes were everywhere as she and Vance made their way through the foyer, following the lady who was leading them deeper into the house. There were expensive paintings, vases, and Persian rugs everywhere. Everything was brand-spanking new. There was no way someone living in the backwoods of Louisiana could’ve afforded all that unless they’d hit the lottery.
When the couple walked into the kitchen, Victoria was taken aback by the sheer amount of stainless steel surrounding them. Vance skittered away toward the windows, probably in an attempt to keep anyone from noticing he didn’t have a reflection. She laughed under her breath and thought of how many other scenarios they could possibly be caught up in where he’d have to hide.
He caught her eye and grimaced.
In a swirl of sparkling robes, the lady of the house floated through the kitchen, pressing buttons on machines. “I’ll just make us a little coffee.”
“That would be lovely,” Victoria said.
Again, she shot a look at her husband. It appeared they’d be drinking a lot of coffee that day since every person in Louisiana seem to want to share a cup of the strong brew over conversation.
“Y’all sit down.” The lady gestured to the bar.
They took their seats and waited while she poured three cups of the steaming liquid and placed the drinks in front of them, asking if either one would like milk or sugar.
Both declined and pretended to sip from their cups. Victoria knew if they consumed too much caffeine, they’d be all jittery and wouldn’t be able to do their job properly. She pulled out her notepad and poised herself to write.
That was the signal to Vance to start asking questions. He rested his forearms on the bar and focused on the woman.
“Ma’am, can you tell us anything about your call to the Bureau? Assuming it was you. What happened? Why did you make the report? What are the specific things you notice going on with your daughter, Crystal?”
“It was me. That’s a lot of questions right off the bat. Let me see…” She tapped her chin with one well-manicured finger and tilted her head toward the ceiling as she thought. “Well, the first night I noticed a change in her was about three weeks ago, right after she went out with her friends to party. When she came home, she went right to bed, and I had to chase her out the next afternoon. It was nearly four!”
“And did you notice a change in her appearance?” Vance narrowed his eyes.
“Not really, but she’s always been a bit of a goth girl. You know, dark hair, dark clothes, dark makeup?”
“I do. I’ve seen several in my time.” He nudged his wife under the counter, sharing the joke.