Caprice pulled away and shouted, “Here’s what I saw. I saw you kill Elberta and Massah Lucas. James too. You dumped him in the hole alive. You gonna burn in hell, you devil woman!”
Now she spoke other words — words in her native tongue — and pointed a finger toward someone who stood in the bedroom behind Prosperine. He raised his hand as if defending himself against the words and she yelled, “You to blame, Charles. For me, for her, for everything!” She spoke in her language again as the man backed away in fright.
Prosperine slapped the girl hard, sending her head snapping backwards as she struggled to maintain her balance on the narrow balcony. Jack rushed to help, but his hand moved through her body like a ghost’s. Prosperine was right. He was dead.
The girl was no match for the taller, more powerful woman. “It’s your turn to die, Caprice,” she roared, lifting the terrified servant girl into the air.
Caprice screamed something — words Jack couldn’t understand — and Prosperine heaved the girl toward the railing. As she fell, she shouted other words lost in the melee.
“What have you done?” Jack cried as he saw the crumpled girl lying down there on the stones. “How many more must you kill before you’re satisfied?”
“Ah, Lucas, this is your fault, you know. If you had been a dutiful husband, none of this would have happened. You, your whore Elberta, that servant boy who buried you, and now the sneaking bitch Caprice. I had to kill them all because of you. Go back to hell, Lucas. Leave me alone. This is the world of the living, and you don’t belong here!”
As the evil creature went inside, Jack rushed down the stairs. He sat beside the fallen woman, felt a weak pulse, held her head in his lap and caressed her cheek.
“Caprice, Caprice! Speak to me. Can you hear me?”
His head spun as the veil was lifted from him. He looked up — there was no balcony, no staircase and no open bedroom door. There were only Jack and Tiffany Bertrand, whose broken body writhed in spasms. She pushed and screamed while Jack watched helplessly.
CHAPTER FORTY
Jack called at 12:46 a.m. Landry’s gut wrenched as he braced himself to hear a slobbering drunk say he was so very sorry and that it would never happen again.
Instead, he heard a frantic plea. “Landry, come to the building quickly. Something horrible has happened. Tiffany’s hurt!”
He yelled at Cate and they flew into the living room. Someone had pushed aside the furniture he’d used as a barrier, and the door stood open.
Cate screamed, “Oh God, she’s not here!”
They dressed in seconds and raced to Toulouse Street, where they found Jack on the patio with Tiffany’s head cradled in his lap.
“She’s gone,” he sobbed. “She was still breathing when I got to her, but she died.”
While Cate called 911, Landry knelt next to his friend. Jack was an emotional wreck, but it was imperative Landry learn what happened before the authorities arrived. Tiffany was dead, and the only other person in the building was Jack. He hoped for an explanation other than the obvious one.
Jack said, “I was pumped up after seeing you all. I had dinner — no drinks, in case you’re wondering — and I went to a meeting. When I started home, something brought me here. I know I was in a trance again, but this time I remember everything.
“I saw Prosperine and Caprice on the balcony, and I ran up the stairs to help her. It sounds crazy, but I knew what would happen. I had seen it before, in another time. Prosperine screamed at me and called me Lucas. Said I was dead and buried under the flagstones. Said it was my fault everyone died, because of my affair with Elberta. She told me to go back to hell and threw Caprice over the railing. When I ran down to help her, the scene disappeared. I was here, it was tonight, and there was Tiffany’s body. Please believe me, Landry. I haven’t been drinking —"
He sobbed as he stroked the dead girl’s hair. Sirens wailed from somewhere close, and Cate ran to the front door to let them in.
Landry said, “I believe you, but you’re in big trouble. I’ll help you as much as I can, but it will take time. You know what the cops will think. You must tell the truth, but they won’t believe you. You’re going to jail. I promise to do everything I can, and I won’t desert you, no matter what. Stay strong and be brave. Know that we’re on your side.”
The flashing lights lit up the street like a Christmas tree, and it seemed a hundred people descended on the building at once. Police officers took Jack aside while others interviewed Landry and Cate. EMTs spent only moments with Tiffany before packing up and summoning the medical examiner. Landry and Cate left before dawn, but the sun would be high in the sky before the building was empty again.
Tiffany went to the morgue.
Jack went to jail.
And Landry and Cate went back to the apartment to grieve over one lost soul and try to decide how best to help another.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Unable to sleep, Cate removed Tiffany’s few personal items from the guest bedroom. She cried as she placed them carefully in a box, where they would stay until she could find out where to send them.
Jack’s statements concerned her. Having seen it herself, she knew about paranormal activity in the courtyard, but she worried that he wasn’t telling the truth about her death. They hardly knew him, after all. What if he wasn’t
