Out of Body

Marley was convinced she must be very careful what she said. The agitation she caused Sidney came from her having something the other woman needed and she could only think it was the red house—yet Sidney had seen it on the workbench and shown no interest.

There could be only one explanation: Sidney had no idea that the miniature was significant.

Carefully, Marley asked, “You wanted us to believe Danny was involved.”

Sidney waved a dismissive hand. “You and Gray will have mentioned that to the police by now. I did what I wanted to do. Suspicion of Danny will divert them when the time comes.”

Spoken as if Sidney was certain Marley wouldn’t be around to interfere.

Marley’s courage wavered, but if she didn’t stay strong, she would be finished. “But you don’t really think Danny has anything to do with anything?”

Sidney laughed. “You made it so easy.” But there were dark marks under her eyes and a tightness about her mouth. Sidney Fournier was very afraid of something.

A thought and an image came to Marley unbidden. Her mind felt clearer. She made herself weigh the wisdom of it before she said, “I want to see the little girl,” Marley said. It was worth a try and she watched Sidney carefully for her reaction.

That came immediately. Sidney’s face blanched and she turned away.

She spun back, the corners of her mouth drawn down. “Who do you know in this house? Who’s telling you things?”

Bingo. Marley pressed on. “I’d like to see Erin, please.”

Sidney’s mouth worked.

“Now,” Marley said.

Sidney rushed at her and pummeled her head and shoulders. “Shut up! Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about. What have you done to make…? You’ve made people angry. I won’t suffer for what you’ve done.”

“Don’t,” Marley said, bowing her head to avoid the blows.

She stumbled sideways and fell, heard the door open as she hit the floor.

“What’s this?” A man’s deep voice asked. “What are you doing, Sidney? Oh, this poor girl, let me help you.”

Marley struggled to raise her head and shoulders. The man had thin, white hair and a lined face, but gave the impression he was not as old as he seemed although he used a cane. The hand he extended was smooth.

He patted her shoulder and looked at Sidney. “Are you mad?” he said. “Is this a friend of yours you’ve brought here to treat like this?”

“I’m sorry,” Sidney mumbled.

“Help me,” he told her. He sank awkwardly to his knees and untied Marley’s hands. “Give them time for the blood to flow back. My, my, what must you think of us?”

While he helped her sit up, Sidney loosened the knots at her ankles. When the rope was removed it left red marks behind to match the ones on Marley’s wrists.

“She asked to see Erin,” Sidney said, sullen.

“How nice,” he said and to Marley, “I am Bolivar Fournier, Sidney’s grandfather. Who are you, young lady?”

“Marley Millet,” she told him without hesitation. Disoriented, she tried to reconcile her treatment at the hands of his granddaughter with this distinguished and charming man.

He looked at her sharply, but with kindness in his eyes. “Not Antoine Millet’s daughter? Or one of them, should I say?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, evidently delighted, and shook his head. “How is my old friend? I haven’t seen him in many a year.”

“He’s well and living in London.”

“Ah,” Mr. Fournier said as if she had explained a great mystery. “Well, you must see the little girl. You know all about this nastiness here in New Orleans, I suppose?”

Marley swallowed. “The missing singers? Yes.”

“Sidney’s a singer, you know,” Mr. Fournier said. “Pipes is her new partner since, well, her former partner is one of the women who disappeared. A terrible thing. We took in Pipes and her daughter because Pipes didn’t feel safe living alone in the Quarter anymore. We’ve got plenty of room here as you can see, and we can keep the child safe.”

He got to his feet, planted his cane with a sharp rap on wood and helped Marley up with surprising strength. “Marley,” he said. “There is a sickness in New Orleans. So many people are afraid. I would have expected the police to solve the problem by now, but just like the last time, they seem helpless.”

Marley nodded. If she asked to leave now and go home, what would happen? Chances were that the risk of disaster was too high.

Eric slipped into the room and stopped as if he needed a new battery—just inside the door.

“This is Marley Millet,” Mr. Fournier said. “I knew her father. Take her to visit Pipes’s little girl.”

Eric nodded, backing from the room, and Marley followed on feet that tingled.

“You, too,” she heard Mr. Fournier say, and Sidney caught up.

Neither brother nor sister would look at Marley. They walked into a circular, white marble entry hall. As soon as they were alone, Eric and Sidney hovered, looking at each other.

“Hi!”

Marley turned to see Pipes Dupuis running downstairs.

“We’re taking Marley to meet Erin,” Sidney said through lips that barely moved.

“She’s downstairs. I was on my way there.” Pipes’s voice shook. She couldn’t get any paler.

Marley glanced at Eric to find him staring at Pipes with complete absorption. What glowed in his eyes resembled possessiveness. It also spoke to lust—and perhaps frustration.

“Hey,” he said. “Great. We’ll come with you.”

Pipes looked blank. She stood in the impressive hall with its marble busts and looked from Eric to Sidney, as if waiting for instructions.

Eric laughed into the silence and Marley’s stomach turned at the sound.

“We’d best get on,” Eric said, but he smiled at Pipes and touched her face lightly.

Marley’s skin crawled. He was obsessed with the singer.

‘“This way,” Pipes said and sped on behind the base of the other staircase and along a corridor. Marble gave way to dark paneling and still they kept hurrying along.

The nerves in Marley’s spine jumped. She got an impression. She remembered it all because she’d been there before. Then she heard what she’d longed for, the whispers that were beloved now. Nothing she could actually make out, but the familiar excited tumbling of sibilant voices.

She kept moving, but she concentrated hard. Her inner awareness was opening wider by the instant. Deliberately, she brought Gray’s face into focus. They were Bonded. It was to him she should turn now. Together they had the promise of enormous strength.

His scars showed and she felt the impact of a blow. He was hurting and that’s why she could see those hateful marks.

The vision of his face turned toward her so that she looked directly at him. Slowly the shades of gray turned to color and his brilliant eyes pleaded with her. His mouth moved.

“Gray?” She tried to reach him. He showed no sign of hearing her and no answer came.

A door lay ahead. Pipes pushed it open and Marley followed into a kitchen with Eric and Sidney.

She shrank back, head light, sweat breaking out on her neck and brow.

“Where is she?” she managed to say. “Erin?”

“You don’t look well, my dear,” Eric said, pulling a chair forward.

Marley slumped onto the seat. She had to, that or perhaps fall. “Where’s Erin?” she mumbled, keeping her gaze on the floor, the white, tiled floor, the bottoms of cabinets, the legs of a table.

“Erin’s playing,” Pipes said, her voice faint.