“You don’t get it. It’s not just an old building. Evil things hide in there. I can’t explain how I know, but it’s true. Why do you want to put me through that? It’s a haunted building! Don’t you think ghosts exist? Can’t you understand?”
Landry said, “Of course, but nothing so far tells me that’s what we have here. I went inside the other day, all the way to the courtyard. I had to leave when Jack Blair yelled at me to get out. It scares him too, but for me to believe, I have to see it myself.”
Tiffany said, “Remember when I ran back to Jack? I asked him to describe the girl in the building. She’s the same person who’s in my memories. Same face, same dress, everything. She’s a ghost, she’s haunting the building, and you want me to go inside to face her.”
“I don’t mean to pressure you. I’m trying to help.”
“Help who? You or me? You’re dying to find out if something happens to me inside. Go by yourself. I’ll pass. Let’s get out of here. How about giving me a tour of your TV station?”
As they walked, Landry pondered why he kept pushing her. That wasn’t how he worked, but it appeared something was also enticing him into those ancient walls.
He introduced her to his co-workers as a friend from California. She watched their team broadcast the four o’clock news, after which he drove her to the airport. Promising to stay in touch, she waved goodbye as she entered the terminal.
In one respect Landry considered this a day wasted, but he also knew staying with Tiffany had been the right thing to do. She was lost and confused, and in a way so was he. Her dreams were significant, but how? She and Jack claimed to have seen a sign that didn’t exist. They both saw the same girl. And what about the nagging feeling he was also being drawn in?
On his way back to town, he crafted a plan. He called Cate and learned her father had had prior dealings with the same listing agent. He’d bought several distressed properties through the firm, and the Realtor provided the code without hesitation. They saw her dad as a potential buyer with the means to give them a quick sale.
They talked about Tiffany’s seemingly hopeless situation. If she could be believed, her dream sequences had brought her to the Toulouse building where she found Jack Blair, a man with experiences eerily similar to hers.
She had returned to New Orleans in an apparently somnambulistic state, which he explained was frightening but not unique. There were documented cases of patients sleepwalking, going outside, talking to others and even getting on a plane. Medical journals believed somnambulism could be related to high levels of stress or anxiety. Landry suggested that be why Tiffany woke up on an airplane with no recollection of being there.
Tiffany’s situation differed from typical somnambulism because of the direct connection between her dreams and the building. She was drawn to an unfamiliar city and a particular place, and Landry thought it something worth investigating.
“What are you going to do with the lockbox code?” Cate asked, and he said he intended to look around inside the building later tonight after the crowds died down and Jack was asleep. He wanted to visit with an open mind. The only things he’d learned last time were that the fountain still existed, but the balcony didn’t. That was a start, but there was much more to learn.
She told him to be careful and laughed when he feigned disappointment that she believed he took unnecessary risks. Back at his apartment, he ordered a pizza and tried to watch a documentary while his mind wandered back to the building.
He left around ten. A light drizzle earlier had turned to steady rain as Landry went downstairs, raised his umbrella and stepped out onto St. Philip Street. The night before Mardi Gras was among the busiest of the year in the French Quarter. As he navigated the narrow streets, he noticed that although some rowdy folks were still outdoors, most had sought refuge from the rain in the noisy bars he passed.
He approached the building and looked into Jack’s doorway. A pair of legs covered by a tarp stuck out of the box. The rain was coming down in sheets, but Jack seemed oblivious. That suited Landry; he didn’t want company.
He found the lockbox hanging wide open on a slat. The open padlock had a key in it and the gate stood open. It appeared someone was inside — maybe an agent and his client. He pushed the gate open and looked down the dark hallway. There were no voices and no footsteps. The building appeared deserted.
He closed the gate and walked down the hallway. The shadowy courtyard was punctuated by slashes of lightning that tore across the sky as the rain intensified. Raising his umbrella, he stood near the fountain and examined the side of the building.
What is that? What am I seeing?
Between the darkness and the downpour, it was difficult to make anything out. For a moment he thought he saw a balcony, but he knew better. They’d torn it down years ago.
As he stared, a huge streak of lightning lit the patio for several seconds. It was there! He stepped back to get a better angle and stumbled over something on the ground behind him. He fell, landing hard on his left hip next to whatever he tripped over. He reached out and felt cloth.
He fumbled for his phone and directed the light.
On the hard stones in the rain lay Tiffany Bertrand.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Landry shook her and called her name, but Tiffany
