Chapter 4

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Even in the winter, New Orleans has a heat about it. The charming brick streets are sullied by, well, a concoction of liquids and solids that I'd rather not examine. I have to prance delicately around the puddles of swill as the Captain walks right through them. But he's wearing sturdy, black shoes. My ballet flats are not going to survive a brushing with these puddles.

The Captain stops under a big flashing light that says "Miss Violet will tell you the way."

The Captain knocks on the door. A tall woman with brilliant brown eyes, high cheek bones, and a long, flowing, red dress opens the door.

"Ah, yes, you must be Derek Jacobson, are you ready to be reconnected with the dead?" She leans into him, almost as though she's sniffing his neck. The Captain backs away, but nods. She sweeps her hands into the entrance way. "I'm Miss Violet. Come in, come in."

Several candles blink around the edges of the room. A table draped in a thick, red tablecloth has more candles in a circle. The winding wax suggests the wicks have been burning for centuries. I walk slowly to the table because the mood just feels like that. Slow. Pensive. It's the kind of room where you wouldn't want to make swift movements and risk accidentally knocking something over, like a crystal ball. We take our seats. 

She looks to the ceiling and closes her eyes, then slowly brings he head back down. But her eyes stay closed. I shift in my seat and eye the Captain as she takes a deep breathe. "What are we seeking tonight?"

The Captain says, "We are—"

Her eyes burst open. "No!"

The Captain's jaw tenses. He doesn't like being interrupted.

"I think I know. You are here to speak to someone in your family?" She looks at me. "You have unresolved issues with your parents."

I get that it's a leading, open-ended statement. A good parlor trick type of thing, because, well, who doesn't have unresolved issues with their parents. But, at the moment, her words prickle my skin.  

"Yes," I whisper, because I'm still feeling all pensive and somber. Something about this place.

She nods and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, elbow propped on the table, as she scrutinizes me. "Your mother is dead."

Her tone teeters in the no-man's-land between question and statement, not claiming either one. But I rub my sweating palms along my skirt nonetheless. I haven't talked to my mom in a week. A week. She's called me three times, but who knows, has something happened? What if Miss Violet really is psychic and she knows something I don't?

She narrows her eyes at me and wiggles her nose. She turns to the Captain. "Her mother is dead."

Again, it's not a statement or a question.

The Captain coughs.

I look at him wide eyed. Why wouldn't he just say no? Or wait, was I supposed to lie and say she was dead just to get on with the séance? Couldn't we be here to fake reconnect with his mom, as strange as it is to imagine the woman who would be the mother of the Captain?

My worries must have shown, because he places his hand closer to me. "Your mother is fine."

I nod and look back to Miss Violet. She shifts her gaze between us and frowns.

The Captain clears his throat. "Denali would like to reconnect with her grandfather."

She blinks a few times. Rapid. Her eyes glide slowly to me. "Is that true?"

"Yes," I say.

She frowns. "No, you aren't here to reconnect with your grandfather." I swallow as she taps her lips. "Are you even here to reconnect with a loved one?"

I look at the Captain, but he's leaning back, as though this is all just a rather pleasant chat.

"Are you here to reconnect with a loved one?" She leans into me, her voice low and accusatory.

What do I do? "I...um..."

"It's okay, Denali." The Captain stands up and walks across the room. He stops next to a large mirror on the wall draped with red curtains.  "We aren't here to talk to the dead. We're here to talk to you." He levels his gaze at Miss Violet. "And you know I'm telling the truth, because you always know when someone is telling the truth."

Miss Violet lays her hands on the table, palms down. Her breathing speeds up. "What do you want?"

"We don't want to hurt you. You know that too." He feels the edges of the mirror and peers at his reflection. "She's behind here, isn't she?" he asks.  "We just want to talk to her."

Miss Violet shakes her head over and over. "No, that's not true, that's not true."

"It's okay, really," I say, but my voice is shaky.

The Captain sighs and tilts his head. "All we want, as a first step, is to talk to you."

"You want more than that. What is it?" Miss Violet stands too.

"We want both of you to come with us. We can take you somewhere safe. We can help you get away from him."

Who is he talking about? Miss Violet looks at the back door and rubs her neck. "We owe him..."

The back door bursts open. A man points a gun at the Captain. "I don't know who you are, but you have three seconds to get out of here."

Miss Violet raises her hands. "Stop."

He turns to her. "You work for me, and only me. That's the deal. Or I'll tell the cops what Cherry did."

Miss Violet's jaw stiffens, but she nods.

He glares at the Captain. "Like I said, three seconds till I shoot."

The Captain's voice cascades down my brain: You have this. My heart thumps as the man counts to three. I focus on the gun. I swipe it from his hands. As it floats in the air, I flick off the safety, I remove each and every bullet as I flytte the gun and bullets to my awaiting hands.

"What the..." The man's face is a flurry of fear and anger. He darts toward me. His hands are on a collisions course with my neck. I raise my arms and prepare for the blow, but it never comes. He trips. Only, he doesn't get up. He's limp. He's out.

The Captain.

"Mom." A little girl who has Miss Violet's light brown eyes runs to Miss Violet. Must be Cherry. The Captain turns to both of them. He says, as though that entire interaction hadn't even happened, "Why don't we go somewhere quiet to talk. I know a good diner a few blocks from here."

Miss Violet looks at the limp man on the floor. "He'll take this out on us later. He knows things, he..." She shakes her head as she rubs Cherry's back.

"We can take care of it," the Captain says.

"How?" Miss Violet asks with a furrowed forehead.

The Captain opens the door and light streams into the room. "I'll explain."


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