Obsession

12

MUCH LATER THAT NIGHT, long after the police had finally left and Philippe had helped her clean up the mess they had made Josie sat at the front desk, going over the events. The front doors were open, the shotgun under the desk within easy reach. The back door was double locked.

She’d insisted Philippe go home. She didn’t want to risk his having a relapse. She needed him here as much as possible in the coming days. She’d be able to hold her own for the night.

At least that’s what she’d thought when she’d assumed Drew would be returning. But she hadn’t heard a word from him all day. Not since he’d left after talking to Detective Chevalier.

“Stay away from that guy, Jos,” Philippe had told her before leaving. “If I didn’t know you’d kick me out, I’d insist on staying tonight just to keep you two apart.”

“He doesn’t have anything to do with what’s going on,” she’d insisted. “You’ll see that he doesn’t.”

But now that the hours were stretching, and he hadn’t bothered contacting her, she was beginning to think Philippe and Anne-Marie might be right.

Of course, the alternative was that he was done with her. He’d had his fun and was ready to move on.

What did it say about her that she preferred to think of him as somehow involved in the shady goings-on around the Josephine?

Given that there were now two murders that appeared linked together, both rooms 2D and 2B were blocked off, yellow crime-scene tape banning entrance. Not only couldn’t she enter them, she couldn’t scrub the room in which Frederique had been murdered, which bothered her to no end thinking that her blood still stained the mattress and the floor.

“You’re damn lucky I don’t just shut the whole operation down,” Detective Chevalier had told her. “The whole freakin’ hotel is a crime scene.”

The phone rang near her elbow. Josie jumped, not realizing how wired she was until that moment.

She snatched it up in the middle of the second ring, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

“Drew?”

She hadn’t realized that’s what she was going to say until the name was out of her mouth.

“Josie?”

A female voice.

She closed her eyes and forced a deep breath. Not just any female voice, but that of her cousin.

“Look, I heard what went down there today,” Sabine said. “Are you all right?”

It was difficult to believe in light of all that had gone on in the past year that she and Sabine had once been very close. Much more like sisters than cousins. She remembered times when they’d dressed up in white gloves and sat with their dolls, drinking tea in the courtyard, feeling a part of the adult world.

Josie looked at the dark and empty courtyard now, wishing for those times again.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” And she meant it.

“So, does that mean you’re finally ready to give this hotel sale a shot?”

Josie’s breath was stolen straight from her.

She slowly took the telephone away from her ear, her fist gripping it tightly, and hung up. She had no more words to say to Sabine. They’d been over this so many times Josie couldn’t count.

When Granme had died, leaving everything to Josie-which was the Josephine and all her many problems-Sabine and her mother had balked, laying claim to half of Josie’s inheritance. They’d tried to obtain legal counsel to sue her for half, only they couldn’t come up with an attorney willing to take the case because Sabine and her mother had a long history of staged accidents and welfare fraud.

Until five months ago. Josie had been visited by a corpulent attorney in a white linen suit and straw hat hired by Sabine and her mother to threaten her with a lawsuit.

Josie had tried to make right from the beginning. She, as well, had been surprised Granme had left her the hotel and everything in it, giving her daughters and other living grandchild, Sabine, only pictures and mementos. Of course, her own mother had yet to surface to claim her sentimental inheritance. It still sat in a pink box in the corner of Josie’s closet upstairs just in case she did show.

She’d been brainstorming ways to work everything out in a way that wouldn’t involve selling the Josephine when her cousin had started calling, threatening to take the entire hotel away from her. Between trying to hang on to the hotel and being on the defensive, she’d never really had a chance to come up with something that might work for all of them.

And at this point, she didn’t have it in her to care anymore. If Sabine was going to sue, she was going to sue. Only, Josie had never heard from that attorney again…

She stared at the phone. Could Sabine be behind the late-night phone calls she’d been receiving? How about the voodoo ritual she’d found in room 2D the other night? She wouldn’t put it past her cousin.

While Granme had always raised her to believe she had no one to take care of her but herself and that she should do so with integrity and pride, her cousin seemed to believe everyone owed her something. Government? Give me money, I deserve it. A woman with a nice car who made the mistake of going to the wrong supermarket? You backed into me, no matter that I made sure you would. Pay up.

Josie didn’t think her cousin had ever worked an honest day in her life. And when she’d offered Sabine a job at the hotel, her cousin had laughed at her, apparently above toiling away at a menial job, no matter the pay. Of course, she’d also said that if she took a job that was on the books, she’d lose her government checks. The same applied when Josie had offered to put Sabine’s name on the hotel’s deed. She’d lose her government benefits. Couldn’t Josie just sell the hotel and give her the money, real hush-hush like, so welfare wouldn’t find out about it?

She pushed up from the chair and walked toward the door. Outside on the street, the world continued to turn, people continued to live, and nothing stopped for anyone. She didn’t realize that she held the latest offer from the hotel chain that was aggressively pursuing her to sell the Josephine, until she was staring at it. She swallowed hard. She’d never once seriously considered the offer.

Until right at that moment.

After the first couple offers, she’d stopped opening the envelopes, merely stuck them in a drawer under the front desk. Now she ripped open the end and shook out the letter within, then unfolded the single piece of thick stock paper. The amount they were offering had gone up significantly. It was surely enough to cover her debts, give Sabine the money she was looking for and see to it Josie got a fresh start.

Fresh start where?

She looked over her shoulder at the lobby. She didn’t know anything else but the Josephine. What else could she do?

She held the letter tightly. Selling would mean no more sleepless nights. No more eighteen-hour days spent doing nothing for stretches at a time. No more dealing with leering old men who insisted on thinking the right dollar amount would put her in their beds for the night.

No more fearing that a killer somewhere out there in the sea of faces had her name on his list.

A loud thud coming from the lobby behind her sent her pulse racing. Whipping around, she searched the shadows to no avail. She looked back over her shoulder at the crowded street filled with people who didn’t have a clue of the fear she felt, much less could care. She reached to shut the doors, then thought better of it. She didn’t want to close herself in should she have company.

Her pulse pounding in her ears, she crept slowly forward, her ears alert, her eyes wide. All the lights were off except for the dim emergency lights leading up the stairs and a small pool of light created by the banker’s lamp on the front desk where she’d been sitting. The farther away she moved from the door, the louder her heartbeat sounded. The more isolated she felt.

The lobby smelled of candle wax and furniture polish. The tall plants cast eerie shadows against the walls. Too many dark places for someone to hide. No one around to care.

That thought more than anything caused Josie’s chest to hurt.

No matter the warnings or how well Granme had tried to prepare her, there was no way she could have been ready for the sheer loneliness that would descend on her upon her grandmother’s death. She had no one. Not a single person she could turn to with her fears or for help.

No Drew…

She hadn’t realized how profoundly his absence was affecting her until that moment.

She’d taken her sandals off earlier and now her bare feet padded over the grit dusting the marble tile, the shells around her ankle quietly clinking together.

She was almost to the desk and the light there. More importantly, the shotgun she had hidden behind it was nearly within reach. She might not have anyone, but she had herself. She’d done a pretty good job of taking care of herself for the past year, and for some time before that when Granme had given her more responsibility at the hotel. She’d do the same now.

With a shaking hand, she reached over the desk and lifted the weapon with a minimum of noise. She tucked the butt between her arm and rib cage and pulled the cocking mechanism, metal scratching against metal as buckshot shells were loaded into the gun, ready to be fired through the short barrel.

Fear no longer paralyzing her, she gave the lobby another quick scan, noticing a broom she had propped against the wall behind the desk had fallen over.

She dropped the gun to her side.

“You’re letting all this voodoo crap get to you,” she muttered to herself.

A loud shriek sounded at the same time as something launched in her direction. Quick thinking kept her from filling the black cat with buckshot.

Josie was convinced her heart hadn’t just leaped into her throat; it had catapulted from her body altogether.

“Jesus, Jez, what in the hell’s gotten into you?”

The cat wound around and around her legs, rubbing the side of her face against Josie’s ankle.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” she said, putting the shotgun back behind the desk and scooping the old feline up into her arms. “I forgot to put food out for you today, didn’t I?”

Jezebel’s response was a loud purr as she licked Josie’s chin.

Scratching the cat behind the ears, she headed toward the kitchen.

She pushed open the door and Jez jumped from her arms, scratching her arm in the process.

“Ow.” Josie switched on the overhead light and checked the shallow scratch. Thankfully there was no blood, but it wouldn’t hurt to put some disinfectant on it.

She wondered how the cat had managed to get in.

A loud meow and a hiss drew her attention toward the back of the kitchen. The door she had locked and double locked an hour ago stood wide open, the screen door squeaking on its hinges.

And Josie was without her shotgun.