Shadows (Bayou Magic 1)

“Not that I saw,” she says, plucking at her bottom lip as she seems to think it over. “I don’t really know what his face looks like because I was trying to get away from him. I didn’t stop to memorize it.”

“You’d be surprised what you might have noticed,” Cash says. “Did he have a big nose?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Wrinkles? Was he overweight?”

“He was average.” She shrugs. “And I didn’t see any wrinkles. He smelled, though.”

“Like what?”

“Like a cat box.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Like a dirty cat box.”

“How did you get away?” I ask, speaking for the first time. Her eyes find mine as if she didn’t realize I was there until now.

“I kneed him in the balls and planted my elbow in his jaw, then ran inside. He’d shifted to turn the corner, and I saw the window of opportunity and took it.”

“Wow, that’s awesome.”

She smiles at me. “You look just like my older sister, Lisa.”

“What did he do when you got away?”

“He called after me, but I was already hurrying back into the bar. I went right to the bouncer and told him what’d happened. He stayed with me while I found my friends, and then they all convinced me to come see you.”

“You did the absolute right thing,” Asher says. “Everything you did tonight saved your life. You should be damn proud of yourself.”

“I’m scared shitless,” she says. “Do you really think he would have killed me?”

“Yes,” Asher says simply. “I know your friends are waiting for you, but do you want a police escort back to your hotel?”

“No, we’re driving right back to Dallas after this. I don’t want to stay in New Orleans. It’s safer at home.”

“Just let us know if you change your mind,” Cash says kindly. “And if you think of anything else, something he said or even the color of his eyes, call us right away.”

“I have a question,” I say, surprising them all. “Did he introduce himself when he approached you? Did he say, ‘Hi, my name’s Dave,’ or anything like that?”

“No.” She sighs, frowning. “But he did call me a strange name. I never told him my name, and he kept calling me something. So, at first, I thought he had me confused with another person.”

“What did he call you?”

“Brianne or something—”

“Brielle?” I offer, and her eyes light right up, confirming my worst nightmare.

“Yeah, that’s it. It’s different. Pretty. But not my name.”

“Okay, thank you,” Asher says and leads Shelly out of the room.

Cash and I stare at each other, not saying a word until Shelly is gone, and Asher returns.

“He’s after you,” Cash says.

“I just remembered that the other night when I dream-walked, the girl he’s holding told me the same thing. She said he calls them all Brielle. I completely forgot.”

“Now we need to interview you,” Asher says, dropping into the sofa across from me. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“I have no idea.”

“He knows you,” Asher counters. “And he’s killing you, every fucking day.”

I swallow hard as bile rises into the back of my throat.

“That’s enough.” Cash’s voice is hard as he turns to me. “I checked out both of your ex-boyfriends. The guy from college lives in Arizona with his wife and two kids. The guy who used to own the tour group moved to Miami and got married last month.”

“Good for them.”

“So it’s not a past lover,” Asher says with a sigh. “A friend? A brother, cousin, childhood friend?”

“I don’t have any brothers.” My mind is whirling with possibilities. Who the hell could be doing this? “My father’s dead. I don’t have many male friends. Or friends in general, actually. They usually think I’m too creepy.”

“Why?”

My smile is thin. “There’s a shadow sitting right next to you. It has one ankle crossed over the other knee, and his arm is resting on the back of the couch as if you two are on a date.”

Asher jumps up and rushes over to the kitchenette.

“There’s a shadow standing to your left, right in front of the coffeepot. It’s been moving back and forth from that spot to the sink and back again since we came into the room. It’s as if he’s making coffee over and over again. Which he very well might be doing. He could be stuck in a ten-second loop, repeating it over and over again for all of eternity like an echo. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like its own kind of hell to me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Asher mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as if all of the hairs there are standing on end.

“I could keep going. I told you, I see dead people. It’s who I am. So, if I’m going to be close to someone, they have to not only accept that fact, but they also can’t be faint of heart.