Page 16 of Death in the New Year

“My sisters?”

“Oh, come on! You can’t tell me that at one time or another, all six of your sisters weren’t on the same cycle.” Luc looked utterly appalled by the thought of it. Then, just as suddenly, he stilled and let out a long breath.

“Shit. You’re right. I never thought of that before, but they were. Pops would say it was time to go fishing, and we’d all scratch our heads but nod. Hell, fishing was better than listening to them cry and bitch.”

Wilson could only laugh as he walked toward one of the quads, cradling her in his arms. He grabbed the bottle from the table and walked, slowly rocking her until she was quietly eating and happy.

Luc took a seat beside Gaspar, Nine, and Ghost.

“Anything?” asked Nine.

“Nothing that would help us. We met an alcoholic who’s been through some rough times, but he didn’t have anything to do with all this. It’s all so strange. It’s a good group of people at the church. No one that you would suspect.”

“What about the reverend?” asked Ghost.

“He was in good spirits, considering everything that’s going on. As we were leaving, he was going out for a run. Or I should say jog,” he smirked. “It wasn’t much of a run.”

“Well, he’s in his late fifties, early sixties. I think we can give him some slack,” said Nine. He felt the hairs on his neck rise and raised a hand. “Trak, so help me God, if you bring that alligator any closer to me, I’m going to be wearing him tomorrow.”

“You did well,” smirked Trak. “Maybe getting old is helping your senses. Alvin isn’t going to bother anyone. He says it’s quieter here than at home with all his babies.”

“Does Alvin have any answers for us on the murders?” frowned Ghost.

“None,” said Trak with a serious expression.

The doors opened, and Code and Sly walked toward their table. They knew from their expressions that this wasn’t to tell them something good.

“What’s wrong now?” frowned Gaspar.

“We’ve got another body. Female, thirty-one, known prostitute. Same death. Stabbed multiple times but not before she was hanged by her hands, both shoulders dislocated.”

“Fuck,” muttered Ghost.

“She had a son,” said Sly. “A little boy living with her and her mother. I gave the address to Gabe and Cruz. They’re gonna talk to the grandmother and then head over to the coroner’s office.”

“Three women,” muttered Nine. “Three women who weren’t doing anything wrong. We have nothing to tie these women together.” Gaspar stared at the men, then nodded.

“No, but we will. Come hell or high water. We will.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“This is the place,” said Cruz, looking at the little house. “It’s a nice home. Clean.”

“Yep. Probably why she was working as a prostitute. To pay for this and give her grandmother and kid a safe place to live. Come on. Let’s get this part over with because I hate this shit more than anything we do,” said Gabe.

They knocked on the door and were surprised when it opened, revealing a room full of people.

“Our apologies, we’re looking for Estelle Marchand,” said Cruz.

“That’s me,” said an old woman in a recliner. There was a young boy spread over the upper half of her body, holding onto her for dear life.

“Come in,” said the woman at the door. “We’re all family and friends. Just come over to help Ms. Estelle.”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s nice of y’all,” said Cruz. “We’re awful sorry to be here under these circumstances, ma’am. Can we speak with you about your daughter?”

“Everyone here knows her story,” she said, nodding her head. “Baby is sound asleep right now, so we can talk.”

“He’s a big boy,” smiled Gabe. “He reminds me of my brothers and I when we were little, although I guess we were never little.”

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