Page 23 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

23

The Fool…Reversed

Nick

I’ve been replaying the events of the past few days in my mind, particularly the visit to Lanie’s loft. Despite thoroughly searching the place, I found no evidence of a break-in, no signs of forced entry, nor any indication that someone had trespassed. It’s perplexing.

Did a break-in actually occur, or was it merely a figment of Lanie’s imagination?

She sent me a photo of a note she supposedly found taped to her refrigerator.

It’s never okay to turn your back on family.

It’s a cryptic note typed out onto a piece of printer paper. It sounds more like an affirmation than a threat, and it makes me wonder who’d take the time to enter Lanie’s apartment without making it obvious just to deliver that message.

The neighborhood theft rate has increased, and people are even reporting on KnoxNeighborWatch that someone has been tapping on their windows at night and smearing a dark residue all over their doorknobs. It sounds more and more like teen activity, which narrows the list of suspects down considerably.

Regardless, it’s getting out of control, and I don’t have the time or energy to investigate it any further. I had to hand it off to another department; they’ve upped the patrol on our street. That hasn’t stopped the calls and texts from concerned neighbors overtaking my phone and sanity right along with it.

As I wait for my flight, I check my emails, finding one from my friend Greg, the private investigator I connected Alyssa to.

I asked him to check into the Hampson brothers and see if he could dig up any information on the Order of Providence, among other things. My hands are full, and the sooner Alyssa makes it back to Knox Harbor and gets her own PI business up and running, the better. I could really use her set of skills.

She’s been so busy trying to help Nina find this Ian guy that I haven’t wanted to press for her to contact the dead for more information.

For fuck’s sake.

Who am I and what is happening to me?

Since when do I openly admit to believing in such things? Let alone internally bitching because I can’t request a séance to get an audience with a dead girl, skipping over the tedious investigation. Oh, how times have changed.

My father would have a coronary if he knew I was tapping into the spirit world for answers.

I open the email from Greg to try to take my mind off ghosts and Alyssa for a little bit.

Nick,

I’ve got some info on the Hampsons. Turns out they were known as the Knox Harbor mafia. They had their hands in drugs, counterfeit money, you name it. Every time the DA got close to pinning them to something, they got off. Never spent a minute in jail.

Carl Hampson was found dead in his home with a gunshot wound to the head. It was ruled suicide but was later changed to suspicious. I’ve attached my findings to this email. Joe Hampson died of natural causes about ten years ago. The other three in the photo were their friends, Gerald (Jerry) Hoven, Buck Sauder, and Frank Montgomery.

Sierra Montgomery is connected to the Montgomery Estate. Her grandfather was the previous owner. His background is very similar to the Hampson brothers, and in fact, he was one of their friends in the photo you sent. Fucking odd if you ask me.

As for the Order, I’m still looking. The dark web doesn’t seem keen to discuss that society, which makes me question how far you really wanna go down this path. These societies are known for staying a secret by all means necessary, if you catch my drift. I’ll let you know if I dig up anything. Assuming I’m still alive…

Lastly, I paid a personal visit to Providence U. Spoke to Professor Dipshit, who spilled the details when I mentioned I had proof he’s sleeping with his student, Felicity Baden. Ian Whalen has changed his name to Connor Fulton. He’s living at 123 Magnolia Avenue, New Orleans, LA 70113, with his teenage son, Chase. –GE

Chuckling, I close my email. Greg’s a jokester, but he’s also the best PI I know. He doesn’t mess around, and that’s another reason I asked for his help with things. He uses tactics I can’t to get the answers I need quickly.

I glance over the attachment that details his findings on Carl Hampson’s death. Forensic evidence suggests that the angle of the wound and the position of the gun do not match typical patterns of suicide. There were also discrepancies in witness statements regarding Carl’s mental state and his behavior prior to his death.

I’m reeling from the news that one of the five men in the photo is a Montgomery. I snapped a photo of that picture when Matilda’s back was turned, hoping it would be useful down the road, and it would appear it already has been.

I sigh, running a hand back through my hair. My mind is racing with all the information. I type up a quick text to Lanie, ready to move on from one of the many open cases I’ve gotten myself tied up in.

Me

Your note is with forensics.

If we find a print, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, I didn’t find anything.

Lanie

Didn’t figure you would, but thanks for looking. See you soon!

Me

See you soon.

I shut down my phone and place it in my bag, eager to board the plane and use the next four hours to rest. I’m anxious to get to Alyssa and relieved to have something to present to the girls when I arrive in New Orleans. This news will get Nina the reunion she’s been looking for and Alyssa back in Massachusetts.

This calls for a celebration. I’m going to make that past-due date happen.

As I approach the Ramada House, a chill washes over me, despite the balmy New Orleans afternoon. This place is unlike any other bed-and-breakfast I’ve encountered. I can’t put my finger on what exactly I’m feeling, but a heavy, oppressive energy pushes down on me.

Ghosts and demons? It’s the stuff of nightmares, not police investigations. Yet here I am, stepping into a world I never imagined I’d believe in. Not to solve the case, but to be here for my girl.

My girl.

Damn, I love the sound of that. I didn’t think I’d be ready for a serious relationship anytime soon, but Alyssa changed the game. She makes me want more than a simple fling.

She makes me think of the future. A future with her by my side.

I shake off that thought, needing to be prepared for whatever’s happening in the creepy fucking place in front of me.

The sound of a wail has me running up the stairs and through the front doors. What I find inside is pure chaos.

A dark-haired woman dressed in a black cloak stands amidst swirling incense and sage, waving a cross in the air. The place is full of smoke, making it hard to breathe as the floors tremble beneath my feet and the walls groan ominously. It feels like the whole place could collapse at any moment.

“Get out,” the woman’s deep, throaty voice reverberates through the room.

My finger flies to my chest, eyes narrowed in on her as if to say, Me?

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as if I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever encountered. Turning her back to me, she continues waving her cross in the air, shouting out commands for the demon to leave.

The place is alive, bellowing and groaning with every demand the witchy woman makes.

Instinct tells me to grab Alyssa and get her out of here, but I know better. She won’t leave.

“Alyssa,” I call out, taking my chances of pissing off Madame Hocus-Pocus or worse…a demon.

“Over here,” she yells, above the phantom howls.

I make my way through the smoke in search of Alyssa, my ears ringing with every scream of the house. I can’t tell where the sound is coming from. It’s everywhere and nowhere.

Fucking anarchy.

When I finally find Alyssa, her determined gaze is fixed on the woman wielding the cross, her eyes blazing with a fierce resolve that both impresses and worries me. I keep my distance, giving her space to do what she feels she needs to do. But my eyes remain steady on her at all times. I won’t intervene unless I know her life is in danger.

While the exorcism—or whatever the hell you call this—continues, Alyssa’s demeanor shifts.

“This isn’t good,” she says, eyes scanning the room. “There are several spirits here. A horrible ghost that we encountered in Florida apparently didn’t leave us.”

“Oh my god,” Nina’s voice pitches. “The one that chased us down the path at the Montgomery Estate?”

Alyssa bobs her head. “He doesn’t want us to send him or the others away.”

I exchange a concerned glance with Nina and Lanie, who are huddled in the corner, practically on top of each other.

Alyssa turns to me, her voice trembling with urgency as she says, “One of them is Carl Hampson.”

“What?” Lanie, Nina, and I all say in unison.

“Carl from Knox Harbor?” Nina asks, and Alyssa nods her head.

“Why would he be here?” Lanie asks, looking at me as if I’ll have all the answers.

“I believe he attached himself to me the other day at Marmalade and Rye,” Alyssa explains to the girls. “Matilda asked for my help to move some spirits on. He had to have been there.”

“I knew Matilda was into witchery,” Lanie says, smiling deviously.

“Quiet,” the strange woman hisses, with a hint of an unidentifiable accent. “I need all of you to concentrate your energy on banishing this angry ghost. Tell him that he’s not welcome here.”

I try to concentrate, channeling my inner zen amidst all the noise. But it’s like trying to meditate in the middle of a rock concert. The piercing scream of the demon—or whatever is in this place—threatens to derail my focus at every turn.

“There’s a woman and a child here too. They aren’t angry. They’re stuck,” Alyssa calls out to the group.

With furrowed brows, I attempt to envision banishing the unseen ghosts, but my mind keeps wandering to mundane thoughts. A mental list of things to do in the Grayson case. Did I pack the right clothes for this trip? Can that demon possess me?

“Focus, West,” I scold myself, attempting to clear my mind once more. But just as I start to feel a semblance of calm, someone carelessly bumps into me, nearly causing me to topple over a candle.

“Sorry,” comes a voice from behind. I turn around to find some random girl. Her blond hair is coming undone from her low bun and flying all over the place. Her eyes are wide, and her teeth chatter.

She dashes around me, rushing out of sight.

Who the hell was that?

Trying to banish an angry ghost feels more like summoning a taxi than anything else. But in New Orleans, I’m sure stranger things have happened.

“Bee, he’s getting stronger,” Alyssa says, and I have half a mind to call this whole thing off and make them all vacate this haunted hellhole.

“He’s working with another male spirit. Concentrate,” the woman named Bee demands, and everyone in the room, aside from me, closes their eyes, seemingly taking Bee’s advice. “Buck Sanders. Saunders…”

“Buck Sauder?” I ask, eyes narrowed in on Bee.

Her eyes widen. “You know him?”

“I know of him,” I say, growing more concerned by the second.

If Carl Hampson and Buck Sauder are together, that can’t be good.

I slam my own eyes shut, taking my chances at a sneak attack on Buck Sauder or Carl Hampson, who’s either pissed off about being murdered or still struggling with his inner demons. In my mind, I make it very clear to both that my body is not open for takeover. I witnessed that once between Corinne and Charlie, and absolutely fucking not. No way. Stay the hell back.

One minute the place is moaning and threatening collapse, and the next it’s silent. I peek one eye open to find all the women sharing glances that I can’t read.

You could hear a pin drop as Alyssa and Bee scour the area, searching for any signs of the spirits.

“They’re gone,” Alyssa says.

There’s a collective sigh from all of us. I breathe for what feels like the first time since entering the place, coughing on the smoke still lingering.

Lanie and Nina scramble up from their huddled position, jumping in to help the tall blond woman from a few moments ago, who materializes from behind the desk, looking like she got into a catfight and lost. Not only is her hair sticking up everywhere, but her mascara is also smeared down her face.

“Bee, do you need help with that?” Alyssa says, pointing to the incense and sage.

Bee waves a hand in the air. “I can handle this, and then I need to head out. My table needs to be set up.”

Whatever the hell that means.

Alyssa rushes toward her friends, pulling them into a group hug.

“Are you two all right?” she asks. Nina nods her head while Lanie shakes hers.

“I will never recover from whatever that was.” Lanie doesn’t even sound like herself when she delivers her answer.

I’ve come to know her as strong and independent. Unshakable. Right now, she seems every bit the young one of the group. Her eyes are wide and mouth set in a grim line. She’s rattled. But who the hell isn’t, after that?

“We’ll be fine,” Nina says. “Go.” She tips her head in my direction, and I offer an awkward wave in return.

Nina smirks, shaking her head.

I look over at Alyssa, still trying to wrap my head around what I just witnessed. She makes her way toward me, jumping into my open arms. I hold her for a moment, surprised she seems to be holding up all right. She’s not even trembling.

“Well, that was nuts,” I say, shaking my head incredulously.

Alyssa looks up at me, grinning. “Tell me about it. I still can’t believe Carl Hampson showed up.”

“And Buck Sauder,” I say, drawing the attention of every woman in the room.

“Who’s Buck?” Lanie asks.

I look to Alyssa. “Remember the photo from Matilda’s office? The one with the five men?” She nods, head tilted to the side. “Buck Sauder was one of them.”

“What? How? None of the spirits that were here resembled anyone from that photo aside from Carl,” she says, and I shrug my shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe he died older, and you don’t recognize him because he doesn’t look the same?”

“If Buck is the older spirit, that’s the one that came from Montgomery Estate. How the hell could Buck Sauder, a man attached to Carl Hampson, have been conveniently hanging around an illegal poker game in Florida?”

That has my mind racing with questions. How did Buck get there? Why was Carl Hampson sticking around his brother’s wife? And what role does Matilda Hampson play in all of this? It’s clear that there’s more to uncover. I make a mental note to look into Buck and Matilda when I get back to Knox Harbor.

“I don’t know, Lyss. Seems to me that this poker game is connected to Carl and Buck’s past dealings. Sounds like they were involved in illegal activity that spanned the US.”

Alyssa’s eyes close on a heavy sigh. She’s exhausted, and I have an urge to sweep her into my arms and get her home.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she says. “I’m sure you’re swamped, and this will likely have you working twice as hard.”

I look down at her and smile. “Captain ordered me to take a couple days. I’ll be fine.”

She visibly exhales. “That’s good.”

I step back, looking between her and her friends. “I have some news. Ian’s changed his name. He goes by Connor Fulton here. My PI was able to locate an address for him.”

Nina’s hands fly to her mouth, eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t think I believed that he’d actually be here. I just assumed it would be another step on a wild-goose chase,” she admits, chin dropping as the first tear slides down her cheek.

Lanie pulls her into a hug, whispering soothing words into the top of her head.

“Are you going to head that way?” Alyssa asks, and Nina’s head pops up.

Her expression is unsurprisingly hesitant. “I don’t think I’m ready to see him tonight,” she admits, her voice tinged with indecision. “After everything we just went through, I need some rest, and time to think over my plan.”

Alyssa nods, rubbing her temples as if to soothe a headache creeping in. “Yeah, it’s been a long day,” she agrees. “We didn’t get any sleep last night, and all this smoke is making my head spin.”

“Let’s get out of here for a bit,” I suggest, but Alyssa hesitates, her gaze flickering back to where the blonde and the others are still gathered.

“I’m not sure I can just leave them here,” she murmurs, her concern evident in her voice. “Not after everything that happened.”

I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment at her reluctance to leave, but I understand her reasons.

“We don’t have to be gone long,” I offer reassuringly. “Just a quick walk to get some fresh air. They can come with us.”

Alyssa seems to mull over the idea for a moment, but before she can respond, Nina speaks up. “We’ll be fine,” she insists, her tone firm. “We’re going to help Adeana and Bee clean the place up, and then get some rest. I have a big day tomorrow, after all.”

“I should help too—”

“Alyssa Mann…go,” Nina says, cutting her off. “I could use some quiet time.” She blows a piece of blond hair out of her eyes. “Besides, I think today would be a great time to make my list of non-negotiables.”

Alyssa grins at her friend, and I have to wonder what that’s all about.

“Fine. You work on that, and I’ll be back as soon as possible,” she says, looking up at me and smiling.

“Don’t rush back,” Lanie says, waggling her eyebrows. “Have a glass of wine and relax.” A mischievous grin spreads across her face, and I’m almost afraid to hear what’s about to come out of her mouth. “Don’t wake me up.” She winks, turning on her toes and heading off toward the blonde, who’s currently pouring water over the sage.

Alyssa’s eyes close on a sharp inhale, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink.

If I were a better man, I’d dismiss Lanie’s suggestion in order to make Alyssa more comfortable. But I’m not. If I have my way, the whole place will be awake when I finally get her alone.