Big Easy Evil Read online

  He handed Quinn a little metal receptacle.

  Quinn got down on his knees, scooping out the ash and bits of bone, slipping them into the receptacle.

  “What the hell?” Eric muttered.

  It seemed that the darkness was slipping over them.

  Father Ryan spoke even more quickly.

  The darkness began to recede.

  “What…oh, Lord!” Eric said. He was breathing heavily; standing there shaking. He stared at Quinn, and then at Father Ryan. Ryan’s eyes were closed; he was still speaking softly in Latin.

  Father Ryan looked at Quinn. “I believe we’re through here.”

  Quinn nodded. “I want to get back to the shop.”

  “Of course,” Father Ryan said.

  They headed out to the cars. As they did so, Quinn’s phone rang. It was Larue.

  “Hey, my friend, I didn’t know if you were coming in or not, but…both Denton and Gill Martin are out of here. Both of them lawyered up. I had nothing.”

  “Thanks,” Quinn said tensely.

  “Let’s go,” he told the others.

  He knew it was imperative that he get back to the house on Royal Street.

  Chapter 10

  “Billie, Bo Ray?” Danni asked.

  She looked out the shop windows trying to peer around the various decorations and goods in The Cheshire Cat. Something had just made a strange noise in one of the windows. A crinkling noise, or a rustling noise.

  Bo Ray had just locked up and headed on into the kitchen to see if Billie had started anything up for dinner. She was alone.

  “Hey!” she called.

  No one answered her.

  “Wolf?” she murmured.

  The dog wasn’t there; she had made Quinn take him!

  Then, as she stood there perplexed, the house was suddenly pitched into complete darkness.

  There were no storms about; the wind wasn’t blowing. Someone had done something, shut down the circuit breaker…

  She had auxiliary lights, set up on an automatic generator, a safety against the storms that did plague the area.

  They would go on.

  But, for the moment, she was left in absolute darkness.

  And she felt strangely as if there was a shadow, even in the darkness, something that began to look over the house on Royal Street like an ebony blanket of pure evil.

  The dim floor lights flicked on, a strange, fluorescent green color. And when she looked toward the front of the shop—still so dim and pale, with only the green glow and the light filtering in from the street—she could have sworn that the mannequins had moved.

  Mr. and Mrs. Devil Demon. They were looking at her. And their faces had changed. Mrs. Devil Demon wasn’t smiling her come-hither smile.

  Her mouth was opened in an O of horror.

  “Danni!”

  She heard her name spoken. It wasn’t Billie, and it wasn’t Bo Ray. It was a sound like the wind through dry and brittle leaves.

  It was a sound like someone…dead.

  There was a bang on the window; she jerked around and saw someone outside, someone trying to reach her, to draw her attention. She walked toward the door.

  Mr. and Mrs. Devil Demon still seemed to be looking at her. Now, it seemed that they followed her movements, as if they were trying to reach out for her.

  The dolls were…almost touching her.

  And she saw Natasha was outside, her beautiful face pressed to the glass; she was screaming something.

  The door from the shop to the hallway suddenly burst open. She expected to see Billie or Bo Ray, someone who would calm her fear, make her realize the darkness didn’t mean that anything had changed.

  Someone came into the shop—through the kitchen hallway. And in that dim and pale light, she saw a woman standing there, staring at her.

  She was sweating and shaking and dripping with blood.

  And held an axe in her hand.

  ***

  Quinn thanked Father Ryan and promised to keep him in the loop on what was happening, and then dropped a very-shaken Eric Garfield back off at his own home.

  He got back in his car, but before he could get the automobile in gear, he got a call from Jez, Natasha’s assistant.

  “We think we’ve got something,” Jez told him. “One of Natasha’s friends just stopped in. She said she’d gotten very nervous. Two people had been in her shop asking about black magic. They were playing it cool, trying to pretend they just wanted to jinx a very bad friend who had been cruel to someone. They just wanted to find out where in NOLA they could find a shop with the ‘real’ thing. She was offended, of course—she’s the real deal, a priestess like Natasha. That’s why she remembered them.”

  “Did she tell you anything about these people?” Quinn asked. He wasn’t surprised that there were two of them.

  If Ned Denton was innocent, that meant Gill Martin and Chrissy Monroe might be…a murderous couple. It had happened before.

  But Chrissy had been at work all that day—or had she been there?

  “Yes, she said they were both men.”

  “Thanks, Jez. Where is Natasha?”

  “She’s gone to see Danni; to tell her. To see if she couldn’t figure out something once she knew two men might be involved—and that the Medusa costume might have thrown us all off.”

  “It did. Thanks, Jez. I’m on my way there now,” Quinn told him.

  Wolf, sitting in the passenger seat, barked and whined nervously.

  Quinn realized then that he, too, felt the need to hurry.

  ***

  “Help me!” the woman whispered, staggering forward.

  The axe dropped from her hand to the floor.

  Stunned, it took Danni a minute to react. Then she rushed forward, just as the woman started to fall. There was a wound in her head, it seemed, a wound that was causing the blood that dripped down her face and onto the floor.

  “Chrissy?” she whispered. She could still hear Natasha banging on the glass windows to the store.

  What was going on. Billie…Bo Ray…were they all right?

  “Yes, I’m Chrissy and I’m…oh, God, I’m dying! I’m bleeding and dying and…”

  “I’ll call 911. Hold on, hold on!” Danni said. She had left her cell in the basement! That was all right; the shop had a land line. She eased Chrissy to the floor, looking around for something with which to bind the wound. A dressed up “Gretel” was nearby; she ripped the cotton skirt off the large, collectible doll and wrapped Chrissy’s head as best she could.

  She rushed over and tried the phone.

  It was dead.

  No, not dead.

  That strange, rustling sound was coming over the line.

  A sound that seemed to form her name.

  “Danni…”

  She slammed the phone down and rushed back to Chrissy, hunkering down by her. “Chrissy, what happened? How did you get in here? Where is Billie…Bo Ray.”

  “Sean brought me…and then…”

  Her eyes closed. She had passed out.

  Danni prayed Chrissy had just passed out, that she hadn’t died.

  Danni didn’t want to go back to the hallway; whatever had happened to this woman had happened there, or in the kitchen or studio or out by the garage entrance.

  She ran back to the counter, anxious to get the keys to the front door, to get it open, get to Natasha…get help.

  Then, the door burst open again.

  And she saw a man standing there. He stood there for a moment, staring at her.

  And then he smiled, and, of course, she knew.

  “Dead, is she?” he asked, as lightly and politely as if he was asking if it was indeed raining.

  “Who the hell are you?” Danni demanded.

  The axe was still on the floor, right where it had fallen when Chrissy had dropped it.

  Far closer to the man than it was to her.

  “Son of Satan?” he asked her. “I go back; I am the spirit. I am flesh, but I walk with th
e devil, with the evil of the ages. I am essence, and I am power.”

  “You’re a bloody murderer, flesh and blood, and you will bleed and die,” Danni promised him.

  “Ah, the great Danielle Cafferty speaks! No, this is your time, my dear, your time to go.”

  A weapon, she needed a weapon…

  She slipped to the floor, ready to fly for the axe that he most likely had not seen as yet.

  But, as she did so…

  Black fog arose around her.

  For a moment, through that fog, she saw Mr. and Mrs. Devil Demon. They had moved again, coming closer, she thought…

  But, they still didn’t seem to be evil.

  As she moved, desperate to leap for the weapon, she saw the little jack-o-lanterns. The little jack-o-lanterns that had been dropped off by the local artist, hoping that she would sell them on commission.

  And she realized…

  The darkness, the shadows, and the evil…

  All were emitting from the jack-o-lanterns.

  ***

  Quinn knew there was something wrong before he reached Royal Street.

  He drove the car into the garage; Wolf leapt past him, almost knocking him back into the car. The dog was in such a hurry to get out.

  And then he saw the courtyard was a melee. Bloody bodies lay about; in the first moments, he didn’t even know to whom they belonged. He saw Wolf flying at someone who was battling Billie McDougall. For a moment, stunned, the man was down. Then he rose, and picked up Wolf, and threw him across the courtyard.

  Quinn had been a cop before he’d been a P.I.

  And he acted on instinct.

  He swiftly drew his Smith & Wesson 9 mil, aimed—

  And fired.

  He hit his target, the man going back after Billie McDougall.

  Then the man dropped down.

  And got right back up. And Quinn saw it was Ned Denton, but a Ned Denton looking nothing like the man he had been before. His face was twisted and warped with rage; his body jerked and moved like that of an automaton.

  Bullets were doing nothing to him.

  And then, of course, Quinn reached into his pocket, for the blessed ashes of Marc Henson.

  He raced forward, heedless of the raging man coming at him.

  He drew out some of the ash and threw it at Ned Denton.

  The man dead stopped.

  He stared at Quinn, that horrible rage still in his eyes.

  Along with disbelief.

  Then he fell, dead.

  Quinn spun around—there were three bodies on the ground. He could discern them all now; Sean DeMille, Casey Cormier, and Bo Ray! He started to kneel down by Casey first, but, Billie rushed over, shouting.

  “Quinn, Quinn, get into the house! The second one…Gill. Gill Martin, he’s gone after his girl, Chrissy…and Danni’s in there!”

  At that same moment, Natasha came running around to the courtyard, panting and in a sheer panic.

  “The shop, Quinn! He’s in the shop!”

  Quinn didn’t need another word. He tore on into the house, so dimly lit now in an eerie green glow from their auxiliary lights.

  ***

  “I have come,” the man said. “To bring you to hell!”

  Danni tried to move; she felt as if she was submerged in the dark fog, as if her limbs couldn’t move. She could only watch as the man came forward, smiling.

  Just staring at her. Smiling that smile. Dropping down to kick Chrissy’s arm aside, and pick up the axe.

  She couldn’t move; she absolutely couldn’t move. She tried, and it was like trying to swim through a tar field.

  The axe was coming, but…

  There was suddenly something between her and the man.

  The mannequins. Mr. Devil Demon, there, the other behind him, trying to block the man who was coming, so determined.

  He laughed, and slammed Mr. Devil Demon out of the way.

  He raised the axe…

  But, Mrs. Devil Demon was there.

  He threw his arm out, sending her hurling over a barrel with a display containing a scarecrow and corncobs, and tiny Styrofoam tombstones.

  He was facing Danni.

  And she could just…stare.

  Then suddenly, she heard the sound of a gun firing.

  The man’s eyes widened, and he staggered back.

  But, then he smiled, and just kept coming forward again.

  “Danni!” Quinn shouted.

  “No, careful, the fog…it will paralyze you!” she warned, her voice as thick as the shadow; she could hardly move her lip, hardly make sound.

  Then something seemed to fly through the air like confetti.

  Ashes and tiny bits of bone and more ashes…

  And to Danni’s vast relief; he stopped. He stared at her.

  And he wasn’t smiling. His eyes were purely incredulous—and filled with a fire and fury.

  “Evil will live forever! For I am spirit!”

  “You are flesh and blood!” Danni said. “And we’ll burn every one of these wretched little jack-o-lanterns with the ashes of the past, and this evil will die forever.”

  He let out a scream unlike anything she had ever heard before. A scream that seemed to rip from the bowels of Hell, as if all the souls in damnation had risen to cry out as well.

  And then he dropped, flat to the ground, his eyes open.

  He was dead.

  Quinn stepped over the fallen “Devil Demon” dolls, hurrying toward her. But she was behind the counter; there, with the cute little jack-o-lanterns, dropped off by…a woman.

  And evil beyond comprehension.

  “Quinn, the jack-o-lanterns!”

  “The jack-o-lanterns?”

  “Yes, do you have…”

  “Ash!” he said.

  And there, on the old mahogany bar turned into a sales counter, he doused the jack-o-lanterns in the ash he still had from the little metal receptacle he carried.

  A scream echoed on the air, no real voice, just a rustle…

  Like dry leaves.

  Then the fog was gone.

  And the darkness was gone.

  And the lights came back up.

  Danni and Quinn ran into one another’s arms. And for long, long moments, they simply held one another.

  And those moments were very beautiful, and very good.

  Epilogue

  Largely thanks to Natasha, no one at the house on Royal Street, in the courtyard or in the street—other than the bad guys!—died that night.

  By the time Billie had started trying to tend to the others, Natasha had already called the police and the paramedics.

  Neither Gill Martin nor Ned Denton had managed to get a good aim at anyone with the one axe they had procured before coming over.

  Sean DeMille had taken a good swing to his side, but, while he’d bled a lot, his wounds had been superficial. The axe blade had sheered the side of Bo Ray’s head; he told them all that it was a damned good thing he’d been hard-headed. Casey had been slammed down on the ground—left for later, once Billie McDougall had been taken out.

  Apparently, Sean had picked Casey and Chrissy up from work; then Gill had come on over and Chrissy had opened the door for him. Ned Denton had been with him.

  And all hell had broken out.

  It was two days later; Halloween was just around the corner. Chrissy was in the hospital still—where she would be for some time, Quinn thought. She wasn’t only going to need medical care; she would need some serious therapy.

  He had suspected her. He had thought maybe she’d been jealous of Casey’s work, and thus, Casey had become a victim to tease with another victim—her murder planned for later.

  “It’s hard to ken, hard to ken,” Billie said.

  They were sitting around the dining room table. Their group—Father Ryan, Natasha, Jez, Billie, Bo Ray, Danni, and himself—and Sean DeMille and Casey Cormier.

  Sean and Casey had talked about leaving the second they were out of the hospital, but
Danni had insisted that they not.

  Halloween could still be a good holiday. There were children counting on Sean. And Hattie had been so kind.

  And, so, they were just finishing up dinner—half of their group well-bandaged and filled with aspirin—getting ready to head over for a special viewing of Hattie’s yard and Sean’s open house. They had a few minutes and lingered over coffee.

  “This is what we discovered,” Danni explained. “There was a man who the police had actually suspected of the axe murders years ago. His descendent was Gretchen Avery, and she knew to find her father’s ashes and use evil to awaken them. The cult leader—Marc Henson—was one of her children, but he had gone away and changed his name. His family was horrified by him—and hid his name when they interred him. Anyway, it turns out that Gill Martin discovered he was a grandchild of Gretchen Avery, and he followed the trail to Marc Henson—and finally found the right spell at a shop somewhere in New Orleans—and dug up Marc Henson’s ashes. What caused the damage was the jack-o-lanterns.”

  “I could have sworn it was a woman who brought them in!” Bo Ray moaned.

  “And I thought Medusa was a woman!” Jez reminded him.

  “It was never Chrissy,” Quinn said.

  “Never Chrissy,” Danni agreed.

  “Well, my jack-o-lantern and all the jack-o-lanterns you had have been destroyed along with the blessed ash,” Casey said. ”But, how do we know…”

  “That there aren’t more out there?” Quinn asked. “There may be. But, without the flesh and blood men alive who awoke the evil, they really haven’t any power. We’ll try to find them, of course, if there are more. But, they will be powerless now. Even if they were paper mache—mixed with ashes.”

  “How did the two get together?” Sean asked. “I thought Ned was a great guy. I thought Gill was our friend.”

  “Poor Chrissy. She’ll never get over this,” Casey said.

  “I’ll be seeing to her,” Father Ryan promised.

  “The two didn’t even meet at your house, Sean, so you weren’t to blame—you were just used. You were Gill’s friend and Ned’s work associate. Apparently, well, Natasha?”

  “They met at a black-market shop somewhere in the city; Larue is on that. He’ll be looking into getting it closed down—they have all kinds of horrible animal sacrifices and sell hardcore drugs, according to my very scared source,” Natasha said. “And they discovered they both knew you, Sean, through Chrissy, and thought your house would be a wonderful way to begin. They did intend a mass murder somewhere on Halloween. They thought they needed to rid the world of Quinn and Danni first, and if they got to Danni—well, Quinn would walk into a trap.”