The Ritual

By Craig Conrad

Phoenix, Paul Rice’s spirit sidekick, is helping Paul check out the Fulbright estate for any haunting evidence. Finding none, Paul leaves, but Phoenix stays and wanders outside the house to the estate grounds where she comes across the spirit of a young, nine-year-old girl, who isn’t sure of her name or what happened to her or why she’s there on the estate. After talking to her, Phoenix suspects that something bad has happened to the girl but doesn’t know what, and the girl doesn’t remember anything. So Phoenix takes her to Paul and asks him to help her find out what happened to the girl. Paul starts digging and soon finds that other young girls, much like the one Phoenix found, have encountered the same circumstances – they all have suddenly disappeared from their normal lives without a trace of what happened to them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798369401132

Craig Conrad

Author resides in Milwaukee. Wisconsin, has been hooked on mysteries and supernatural thrillers since reading his first H.P. Lovecraft novel. He has written twenty novels, fourteen of them are Paul Rice novels, his reluctant paranormal investigator, with cameo appearances in two others that feature two of his war buddies along with two Dutch Verlander stories, and a collection of short stories.

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Copyright © 2023 by Craig Conrad.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Rev. date: 07/12/2023

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Epilogue

Who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?

—Mark Twain

Sometime in the 1980s

1

Phoenix lingered in the mansion although their examination of the house yielded nothing but the moans and groans of an old house feeling its age and nothing more, not haunting spirits that didn’t know they had died, or didn’t want to cross over to the light, or were afraid, or wanted to remain earthbound. Nine out of ten times the odd noises in the night of the homes Paul was asked to investigate were caused by arthritic buildings whose structural bones needed help and nothing else. Still, there was that one time that they weren’t, and people wanted to feel secure in their homes and not subject to some lurking evil or destructive spirit, but that too wasn’t always the case. Most hauntings were caused by confused spirits that only need direction to move on. Very few were of evil intent, those that were she regulated to Paul; that was his department. He had already left once the investigation was over. She smiled at the thought. Paul hated big houses and usually left as quickly as he could when they were finished. Big houses reminded him of bad times ever since his ordeal with the Eastman home in Lanark, but the Eastman house could fit into this mansion three times over with room to spare. The grounds of the house were immense also and that was where she was now, taking in the vastness of the property and where she found the girl spirit.

Are you stuck here? Phoenix asked approaching her, surprised at running across a spirit out here. She looked all of nine or ten years old, wearing a simple dress and long pigtailed blonde hair.

I don’t think so, she said.

Why are you here?

She shrugged. I don’t know why.

Are you always here at this home?

No, I don’t think so.

What’s your name and how old are you?

I’m nine and my name is Sandy Simms.

What happened to you? Phoenix asked, assuming that something had to have caused her death at such a young age.

She shook her head. I don’t remember.

Was it a sickness or an accident?

She shook her head again. I don’t remember, but I think it was something bad.

Something bad happened to you, like what? Phoenix said, having murder on the tip of her tongue, but didn’t say it. Did someone hurt you?

I think so.

Don’t you remember anything, Sandy?

She started to cry. No, nothing. I try but I can’t remember anything and it hurts to remember.

There’s a heavenly light waiting for you in the distance. Do you see that light?

She shook her head again. No, I don’t see anything.

Phoenix didn’t know what to make of her, but had the feeling that she might have been murdered, which was more in Paul’s domain than hers. Do you try to remember how it all started? Can you close your eyes and try to see . . . anything?

Tears were running down her cheeks now. It’s always the same, she cried. I try real hard to remember, I try real hard to see, but I only see the darkness. It’s always there and never goes away. It blocks everything out.

2

Natalee Cruz looked up from her desk and closed the laptop as Paul Rice came into his office. How did it go? Was the place haunted? She looked him over closely. It had been over a month since the assassination attempt on Governor Thayer-Prescott’s life, which had run Paul ragged for a while. He still looked a little beat to her, not fully recovered emotionally from the ordeal, although he kept telling her he was fine.

Paul entered and handed her a check. It was, but it wasn’t who Lane thought it was. It wasn’t the one he was afraid of.

Natalee took the check and looked at the amount. Oh, nice. she said, raising her eyebrows in appreciation, then shifted her eyes to him. So who was it?

It turned out to be the previous owner of the house, not his ex-partner who he thought came back from the grave to do him harm.

I thought Mr. Lane said the spirit was trying to kill him?

Not really, Paul said. The spirit, a Mr. Wallace, liked to play tricks now and then, scary tricks but nothing lethal.

So what happened, he didn’t want to leave?

He left reluctantly, but he left. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to do anymore mischief once he got to heaven; his words.

Well, that’s good, Natalee said. You’ve got another house to check out this afternoon and three more after that tomorrow and the next day. She looked him over again. Are you up to it? You still look a little beat to me since that last mess you were in with Claire.

The Governor is fine and I’m fine.

"You don’t look fine. You look like you could use a month’s rest."

I don’t need a rest. Where’s the next house?

Grafton.

Again? Paul frowned, That’s getting to be a busy place for spirits. He unbuttoned his jacket and stepped into his inner office, turning on the overhead lighting, suddenly seeing that Phoenix was standing near his desk, looking at him seriously.

We have to talk, she said.

He closed his office door. Natalee thought it strange and gave the closed door a long look, wondering what was suddenly going on with him.

Paul took off his jacket and hung it up. What’s wrong?

I need you to do me a favor, Phoenix said.

Sure, what? he said, moving to her.

I need you to solve a murder for someone, a friend of mine. I think she was murdered.

"You think, don’t you know, doesn’t she know?"

She doesn’t remember.

I don’t solve murders. I don’t take those kind of cases. You know that.

You solved mine.

That’s because it was part of finding Claire’s grandson.

You still solved it.

It dawned on Paul that the audio feed was on to Natalee’s desk, something he had rigged up for security reasons when he moved in here. He quickly switched it off just as she opened the door and walked in the room.

Are you all right? Natalee asked looking around the room. Who are you talking to in here?

No, one, Paul said, myself.

She gave him a dubious look. Not one of your invisible friends?

Tell her, Phoenix said, otherwise she’ll think you’re losing it. She probably half suspects already from what she just said, or are you ashamed of me?

Paul made a face at her. That’s not true.

Who are you talking to? Natalee said again, giving him a strange look. You’re beginning to creep me out.

Tell her, she should know, besides Shela knows.

Paul turned to Natalee. Okay, what I’m about to tell you stays with you and no one else, understood?

Natalee looked at him. What’s going on, Paul?

Understood? I don’t want this getting back to anyone, especially to Dallas.

Yes, understood. Now, what is it?

You’d better sit down. Take the chair behind my desk.

She moved and sat down. Okay, I’m sitting.

I’m talking to Phoenix, Dallas’s sister. I’ve been talking to her since her murder up in Pleasantville while trying to find Clare’s grandson.

Dallas has a sister? Natalee said. She’s never mentioned it.

Yes, a younger sister, Paul said.

How come I can’t see or hear her?

Only two of us can, me and Irene Jessup. He looked at Phoenix for confirmation.

She will be able to in time, Phoenix said, if she really wants to.

What’s she saying?

She says you will in time if you really want to.

Does she talk to Dallas?

No, they had their differences when Phoenix was alive and Dallas doesn’t believe in spirits. You know how she is; she still has trouble using the magic of the coven.

What does she want with you? Natalee said. Where is she by the way?

She wants me to solve a murder, and she’s standing on the other side of the desk near the client chairs.

Natalee looked but couldn’t see anything.

As I was saying, Phoenix said, looking at Paul, you’ve solved murders before. You just solved the murder that Little Bull was accused of not that long ago, so you do solve murders.

Point taken, Paul said, not arguing about the facts. Why is this special to you?

It just is and it involves a little girl whom I’d like to help.

Paul looked over at Natalee who shrugged. I’m not getting anything.

I’ll explain everything later. He turned back to Phoenix. Okay, I’m listening. Tell me about it.

Her name is Sandy Simms, she thinks.

She thinks, doesn’t she know?

She’s pretty sure, but not certain. In fact, there’re lots of uncertainties in her story. Sandy is nine years old. I get the feeling that she was taken and murdered five years ago.

Her case was never solved?

No, it’s a cold case and they never found her body either, at least from what I understand.

Does she remember where she was taken, from her home, on the street? Paul asked. Spirits usually remember what happened to them, don’t they? And who killed them?

Sometimes, but not always, Phoenix said. I didn’t remember. I just knew I was dead. It’s the same with her.

Paul nodded, thinking back. I remember. Okay, where did you find her, over there on the Other Side where you are?"

No, I found her in that big house we checked out yesterday?

The Fulbright mansion?

"Yes, that one, the one you didn’t want to do because it had belonged to that sonofabitch Republican senator from Wisconsin, your words. Anyway, Sandy was there. She wasn’t haunting the place, she was just there, and that’s where I found her and she started talking to me. She doesn’t remember very much, but she knows that something bad happened to her because she’s dead."

Why didn’t you didn’t mention this before? Paul said.

There was nothing to tell you at the time and besides, you had already left.

Natalee strained to hear and was beginning to pick up a faint voice talking to Paul.

If she doesn’t remember anything, how am I supposed to help her?

Because you’re smart and I know you’ll find a way, Phoenix said and smiled. And I trust you to do the right thing.

Yeah, well your confidence might be misplaced.

I don’t think so. I think if you keep talking to her, you’ll get her to remember things, clues that will lead you somewhere.

Paul glanced at Natalee who was leaning forward in her chair. I think I can hear her, but only very faintly.

Paul looked at Phoenix again. What does she remember, anything?

"I’ve asked her that a number of times and her answer is always the same. She says she sees only darkness."

3

Will you talk to her? Phoenix said.

I’ll try, Paul said.

That’s all I ask. I’ll get her and bring her here, Phoenix said and then disappeared.

Natalee looked at Paul. I can’t hear her anymore. Did she leave or something?

Yes, she left to find the girl and bring her here.

Jesus, Paul, a ghost, she said and gave an involuntary shiver.

Paul shot her a look. It’s just a spirit, the essential part of being. You have one too. There’s nothing weird or creepy about Phoenix, believe me.

Yeah, well I’m not as brave as you are. Stuff like that gives me goose bumps.

Phoenix is a very attractive young woman that just got mixed up with the wrong guy and paid for it with her life.

She would have to be, and I would expect no less, those are the kind of women you usually get involved with, the good looking ones. Even the female spirits that come to you are attractive.

Paul made a face. I don’t plan it that way.

I know you don’t, but it happens. She rubbed her arms for warmth. Who else are you talking to over there?

He paused. No one. He lied. That would really freak her out if she knew he talked to Sammael.

She gave him an intensive look, not believing him. It took him too long to answer, but didn’t press it. I need a drink, she said. Would you like one?

Maybe later.

You want to fill me in on what you two were talking about while I get a Scotch. Natalee got up and moved to the cabinet-bar and made a Scotch on the rocks as Paul went over everything that Phoenix had told him.

She returned to his desk chair and sat down again. You solved her murder?

Phoenix had an affair with Merredith’s husband and after a while he had her killed, afraid she was going to tell Merredith about the affair and he’d be cut off from Merredith’s money if she kicked him out."

Nice guy.

He wasn’t. He was pure evil, Paul said. He killed Merredith’s son too, Claire’s grandson. I told you about it.

Natalee gave him another close look. You told me very little about it. Sometimes you don’t pass on the whole story.

Paul made an unpleasant face. Maybe it’s because you’re better off not knowing everything.

I doubt that, she said, making a face back. You just don’t talk a lot about things, especially about cases. She paused in thought. So how long has she been with you?

Since Pleasantville.

Natalee nodded and drank her Scotch. I take it that she’s been helping you right along.

She has.

She’s become your sidekick, more or less.

I guess you could say that. Why?

No reason, just saying. John Little Bull was right about you. You do have help from the other side.

Where do you think the Ladies of Salem are from?

Besides, them, I know about them. Why doesn’t she visit Dallas?

I told you why. I’ve talked to her about it, but that’s the way she wants it. I think she’d like to, but is afraid of how Dallas would react.

Just then Phoenix returned with a little girl, holding her by the hand. Sandy, this is Paul Rice and his friend, Natalee. Paul is going to help you. Phoenix gave Paul an intensive look when she said it and had Sandy sit in one of the client chairs.

Sandy was tall for her age and wore her blonde hair in pigtails. She was dressed in a blue outfit that looked like a skirt and blouse but was actually a dress with a lighter blue top and a darker skirt. She sat and stared at Paul, not letting go of Phoenix’s hand.

Paul smiled at her. Sandy, I’m going to try to help you, but I need to ask you some questions and I want you to answer them as best you can, okay?

She nodded. Okay.

What’s your full name, Sandy?

Sandra Simms, I think.

What name aren’t you sure of, Simms?

She nodded. Yes, the last one.

Why aren’t you sure?

I don’t remember. I’m just not sure it’s right.

Okay, how old are you, Sandy?

I’m nine.

When’s your birthday?

December twenty-third.

Do you remember the year?

She nodded. 1972.

Your birthday is close to Christmas, Paul said, trying to get her to relax. Do you get gypped on presents sometimes?

She nodded and gave him a little smile. Sometimes.

Phoenix and Natalee both smiled at Paul. Natalee couldn’t hear Sandy clearly, but she got the drift of the questions and answers.

Do you remember your parents’ names?

She nodded again. Yes, Mom and Dad.

That got another smile from Phoenix and Natalee.

Paul had to smile too. Okay, what about first names? Do you remember their first names?

She shook her head and repeated, Mom and Dad.

Do you remember the last place you were at?

She shook her head and gripped Phoenix’s hand tighter. No.

What’s the last thing you do remember?

I don’t remember anything. I just remember being the way I am.

What do you see when you try to remember? You do try, don’t you?

I try but I see nothing, she said after a long pause, everything is dark. I see only darkness.

Paul made eye contact with Phoenix. Sandy was still holding tight to her hand.

That’s what she told me, Phoenix said.

Paul nodded again and turned to Natalee. Are you getting any of this?

Yes, I can’t believe it, but I am, Natalee said. It was faint at first but it’s getting stronger.

Good, Paul said and looked at Sandy. I want you to do something for me. I want you to think back before the darkness came. I want you to close your eyes and just relax. You’re safe here. We won’t let anyone harm you. I want you to relax and let your mind do the work. Let it see. Let it drift along and tell me if you see anything. You see with your mind anyway. It just passes the images along to your eyes. Can you do that for me?

She nodded. I’ll try. She closed her eyes and frowned real hard, then her face relaxed. I see a street.

You see a street, Paul said, very good. What else comes to mind? Any street signs or store signs?

A movie show, she blurted out. I see a movie show.

You see a movie theater, Paul said. Do you see the name of the theater?

She started shaking her head, tears formed in her eyes. No, I can’t see the name.

That’s all right, Sandy, Paul said. You’re doing just fine. We’re almost done for now. Just one more thing, does anything else come to mind near that theater? Any other buildings? Something that stuck in your mind at the time?

There’s a stagecoach, she said.

What’s the stagecoach doing?

I don’t know. It’s just there close to the movie show, she said. It has big red wheels and lots of windows.

Very good, Sandy, Paul said. We’ll give it a rest for today and try again another time. He looked at Phoenix. Where have you been taking her?

When I found her, I took her to Irene’s, Phoenix said.

Good, that’s a safe place for her while we figure this out.

Who’s Irene? Natalee asked.

Irene Jessup, Paul said. She’s a medium and a close friend of Phoenix’s.

And yours, Phoenix reminded him.

And a close friend of mine too, Paul said. I met her in Pleasantville also. Then to Phoenix, Take her to Irene’s and come right back.

I’ll be back in a flash, she said and was gone with Sandy in the blink of an eye.

Natalee gave Paul a long look, trying to fit all the pieces together. Some it began to make sense now. That was quite a gathering you had up there in Pleasantville: Claire, Merredith, Shela, Dallas, Phoenix, Rachel Marsh, and Irene Jessup.

It just worked out that way. All those people were involved in the Stoddard Case in one way or another. It took all of their information to help me find the boy.

Seems like it.

I think I’ll have that drink now, Paul said, shaking his head at her, surprised she was accusing him of recruiting members.

Natalee rattled her ice cube around in her glass. I could use another.

Paul looked at her. Really? Don’t get loopy on me.

Believe me I won’t get loopy, not after what I just witnessed.

Paul took her glass and went to the cabinet-bar. You heard and saw her?

Sort of, I heard her faintly and saw her, but not clearly, more like a blurred vision, but I understood what was going on.

That’s real good, better than most. I think she has something to do with that too.

What do you mean?

I think it’s up to her if she lets you see and hear her or not.

And just how does she do that?

I think it’s a conscious thing, but I have no idea how she does all the things that she can do. He made another Scotch for her and took some cognac neat without a water chaser for himself.

I can use some of that, Phoenix said, reappearing in the room again, this time next to Paul.

Paul looked at her. You can drink now?

Yes, among other things.

Natalee shot Paul a look and raised an eyebrow, wondering what else she was capable of.

Paul ignored the look. So what are you drinking?

Bourbon, if you have it.

I do, he said, going back to the bar and poured some Wild Turkey into a glass and brought it to her. He had Natalee’s drink too and passed it to her. Natalee watched Phoenix drink in fascination, seeing her more clearly now, surprised the drink wasn’t visible in her body as she drank.

How can you do that? Natalee asked.

Phoenix shrugged. I just can. I think about it and then do it. She took a healthy sip of bourbon and looked at Paul. What do you think about the girl?

I think someone did a number on her before they killed her, Paul said, and I have a feeling that’s what happened to her. It’s like she’s been brain-washed. Did she tell me anything different from what she told you?

Well, yeah, she told you more. She didn’t tell me about the movie theater or the stagecoach.

What do you think that means? Natalee said. That she saw a western movie that day?

No, I think she was describing a popcorn wagon. There are a few vendors in the city that set up shop close to movie theaters. They sell popcorn and their place of business looks like a wagon with large wheels and lots of windows; it sort of looks like a stagecoach. If I can find the right wagon, it could give me the movie theater and the street.

That was five years ago, Natalee pointed out. You think they’ll still be in the same location?

Paul shrugged. Maybe, maybe not, it’s worth a shot.

You think that’s where someone grabbed her? Phoenix said.

I could be where she was grabbed if she remembers it, Paul said. That house you found her in, you said she wasn’t haunting it, so what was she doing there?

That was the Fulbright mansion. She said that she didn’t know why, Phoenix said. She just came there to sort of hang around.

Natalee looked at Paul. "Fulbright, that name sounds familiar, isn’t he the Republican prick, your words, that you mentioned was in politics?"

Yeah, he’s a U.S. Senator from Wisconsin, Paul said. What was wrong with that mansion? Why did he want it checked out? Do you remember? It doesn’t look like anyone lives there. He’s letting relatives use it.

He doesn’t live there, Natalee said. The house belonged to the family; his grandfather was a partner to Joseph Schlitz, one of the beer barons. The family has money. They use the house for gala parties and Republican fund raisers.

What Republican in politics doesn’t have money, Paul said. What was wrong with the house?

The usual, if I remember correctly, Natalee said, strange noises, things being moved around, or so they thought, stuff like that.

No apparitions of a little girl? Paul said.

It wasn’t mentioned when the appointment was set up, Natalee said. So what does that mean?

At the moment I have no idea, Paul said and took a healthy pull of cognac, but it’s something to think about.

4

Paul went to his phone and started pressing in numbers.

Who are you calling? Natalee asked.

Keller, Paul said.

She picked up on the third ring. South Precinct, Detective Cooper.

Keller, it’s Paul. I need you to check on something for me.

She laughed. What else is new? What do you need?

I need you to go back about nine years and see if there’s a missing person’s report on a young girl, age nine, named Sandra Simms. I’m not too sure of the last name.

Two m’s in Simms?

I think so, although it could be just one.

Okay, anything else?

Yes, go back and see if there were any other missing girls in the city at that time or recently.

I take it that this Sandra Simms was never found either.

That’s right she wasn’t.

Okay, but it will cost you lunch, Keller said.

That’s fine with me. What time do you usually take lunch?

From twelve to one.

Take a longer lunch.

Where are we going to the Klondike?

Not quite that far, just on the eastside. I’ll pick you up.

They both hung up and Paul settled his eyes on Natalee. What time is that house-checking appointment in Grafton?

At three, but I can tell them you’ll be late, Natalee said.

Do that, make it four o’clock or after. He turned to Phoenix. I need you to check out this place in advance and a few others on the schedule, so I don’t have to spend a lot of time on them, okay?

Phoenix nodded. Sure, anything else you want me to do?

I’ll let you know after I talk to Keller, Paul said.

Where are we going again? Keller asked getting in the car.

To see a friend of mine. He owns a bar on the eastside of town. It’s a nice place and they have great bar food. It’s not your run-of-the-mill gin-joint, otherwise I wouldn’t take you there. You’ll like it. I thought we’d go there for lunch since I need to talk to him.

I can’t drink. I’m still technically on duty.

I don’t expect you to. They have coffee. What did you find out?

Feed me first and then I’ll tell you.

Paul smiled. Okay, lunch coming up.

Keller nodded. I hope this lunch isn’t a substitute for our date tonight.

It’s not. It’s just an extra.

Good, I like extras with you, otherwise I’d have to shoot you, she said and smiled. Let’s go someplace tonight besides just having dinner.

Okay, how about a late dinner at Peter’s and a show before that?

What show?

Neil Diamond’s in town at the Riverside. I know you like him, so I got us some tickets. Is that okay with you?

She smiled. That’s more than okay. I was hoping that we’d go.

Paul parked in Izzy’s lot in the back of the building and entered the tavern. It was dimly lit, but smoke fee, and the accent lighting was well done. Half the bar was filling up with the lunch crowd, but the other end was open where Paul usually sat. He helped Keller off with her coat and draped it over the back of the barstool, doing the same with his jacket.

Paul squeezed her shoulders affectionately. You turned every head in the joint.

She smiled, liking the compliment, As long as I turn yours.

You always turn mine.

That’s good to hear. Then kidded, Maybe they were looking at you.

Paul frowned and took his barstool, looking over at the gathering at the other end of the bar. You think so?

They both laughed.

Izzy had noticed Keller as soon as she walked in: tall, thirty-plus young, lithe body, long, henna-hair, a little past her shoulders, and very, very attractive. She was hard to miss, and neither had all of the lunch crowd men, giving her more than an appraising look as she passed.

Izzy came over. Another beautiful woman; how you do it beats me.

Clean living, Paul said and made the introductions. Keller Cooper meet Ira Boyle, better known as Izzy. He owns the joint.

Pleased to meet you, Keller, Izzy said. They shook hands. How’d you get hooked up with this guy? he said, gesturing with a head nod at Paul. Bad luck?

Careful, don’t get smart, Paul said. She’s a cop. Be nice.

Wow, I’ll be on my best behavior. You still chasing werewolves?

No, I stopped for a while. I had no one to chase.

Keller glanced at him. "Werewolves, does he mean those bipeds you were after?"

Paul nodded. Yes, he calls them that.

So do other people, Izzy said. What can I get you folks?

Some coffee for both of us and some menus, Paul said. I’ve been bragging up your bar-food to Keller.

Coming up, Izzy said and walked down the bar into the kitchen.

Keller looked at Paul. Why do you call him Izzy if his name is Ira?

Did you catch the name of the place as we came in?

Yeah, the Hibernian Hebrew.

"Izzy is half Irish and half Jewish, and he doesn’t like the name of Ira. He says he’s been called Izzy since he was a kid."

How do you two know each other, Vietnam?

Paul nodded. He was over there too. We got to be friends.

Izzy came back with a tray of two coffees and a coffee carafe. He put everything on the bar and handed them menus.

You can have a drink if you want to, Keller said. You don’t have to drink coffee just because I do.

I wouldn’t think of it. We’re in this together.

Keller smiled and shook her head at him. You’re a nut sometimes, but a loveable one.

I know everything is good, but what are you featuring today? Paul asked Izzy, looking at the menu.

We have some pulled pork sandwiches on a large bun, Izzy said, that’s sort of special for today.

I’ll have one and some fries. He looked at Keller.

This house club sounds good, she said. And I’ll have fries too.

An excellent choice, Izzy told her, collecting the menus. Be back in a flash.

Paul smiled, remembering that’s what Phoenix told him earlier when she left with Sandy. What did you find? he asked Keller. Can I know now?

Of course, there’s a nine year old girl that went missing in 1981 by the name of Sandra Simpson, not Simms. She was never found. If that’s your girl, her parents’ names are Carson and Brianna Simpson. She took out a manila folder from her purse and handed it to him. Their address is in White Fish Bay on Lake Drive. It appears they have money. There are no other missing girls around the city besides her that are recent, but there have been others. What are you looking for a serial killer? The cop that investigated it thought it was strictly random and wasn’t looking for any pattern.

Did he look for other missing girls?

Keller shrugged. It’s not mentioned in the report. He works in the South Precinct now, used to work with the White Fish Bay cops. His name’s Detective Nick Mylonas.

Is he a good cop?

I don’t really know. He thinks he is. He’s only been at the South Station for three years after transferring from White Fish Bay. Ask Murray, they talk.

He just gave her a cold look.

Bite your tongue and don’t say it. Murray has his good points.

And those are? I honestly can’t think of one.

She gave him a stern look. You promised me you wouldn’t criticize Murray anymore for my benefit.

Paul smiled to himself. Taylor doesn’t like it when he picks on Agnes, even though it’s for a good reason, and Keller doesn’t want him to diss her partner. He can understand Keller’s feelings, sort of, that criticism of Murray rubs off on her as well because they are partners. You don’t know how hard that is to promise. I still don’t know why you keep him as your partner.

She made a face at him. We’ve been over that.

He started looking through the folder, knowing that he wasn’t going to change her mind, but in his mind Murray didn’t have any good points and was more of a liability than an asset as a partner. He paused for a moment reading and hitched up his eyebrows. Her mother’s name is Brianna? I wonder if that’s her real name, or a made-up one to go with her lofty station in life?

"Ask her when you see her. I imagine you’re going to talk to them. And people do name their kids Brianna. I know two couples that have girls with that name."

Yeah, I have to talk with them. What does her husband do?

He’s an attorney, a defense attorney. He handles all the bad boys like Taylor used to.

Paul shook his head. Don’t remind me. Do you need this file back?

Keller drank some of her coffee. No, I made copies for you.

Ah, a girl after my own heart; I love you, thank you.

You’d better.

He gave her a long look. Two couples with Brianna kids?

Yep.

He nodded and found a picture of Sandra in the file. She looked exactly as he had last seen her, but asked, Is this a recent picture.

Yes, according to the school and her parents that was taken a month before she disappeared.

He read on. "She was supposed to go to the movies with a friend, Kelli Farmer, Kelli with an i, but Kelli had a bad cold and her parents wouldn’t let her go, so what did Sandra do, go there alone?" If she did go, Paul thought, that would tie in with the movie theater that she couldn’t remember.

She told her parents she was going with Kelli, Keller said. "They didn’t know that she went alone until later. When they found out what she did, they still thought it would be okay because the movie was at a neighborhood theater, The Bay, and she went for the matinee showing."

What do the Farmer’s do for a living? Paul asked, then caught the information in the file. Oh, she’s a housewife and he’s an attorney; God, not another lawyer?

Yes, but he’s in civil law, Keller said, not criminal like Simpson.

He’s still a lawyer.

Why are you down on lawyers all of a sudden? Ashleigh and Taylor are both lawyers.

I’ve always been down on lawyers, but there are some good exceptions.

Keller shook her head. Do the girls know how you feel about their profession?

Unfortunately, yes.

How far apart is each abduction; did you notice?

I’d say about every five years, but that’s just a guess. You’ll have to double check the dates. She paused and kept her eyes on him.

Who are all these other beautiful women Izzy’s talking about?

You know all of them: Taylor, Natalee, Ashleigh, Paige, and your buddy, Kate. Satisfied?

I guess, she said, sort of. She tossed him a second look. Kate was here with you without Matt? She’s not one of us, is she? And if she is how come I don’t know about it?

No, of course not, Matt was here. Kate isn’t in the coven. She doesn’t know anything about it, and that’s the way I want to keep it. Matt knows Izzy from Nam too.

She moved her eyes to him again. This is a cold case. Why are you checking on it?

A friend asked me to take a look at it.

Do you have anything to share?

I’d like to, but I don’t have anything. You were my first move.

She gave him an affectionate head bump against his shoulder. Mmm, I like being your first move.

You keep talking like that, Paul said, and we’ll embarrass everyone in the bar.

Good, she said, If we’re talking about what I think we’re talking about.

We are, he said and then changed the subject. What about a ransom notice?

Keller made a face at him. Party pooper. Then she said, There was no ransom notice. I’ve been on the force long enough to remember a kidnapping, and I don’t recall one. In fact, I don’t remember any.

The FBI wasn’t involved at all?

They may have been notified, but probably dropped out after ransom wasn’t asked for and it looked like an abduction. The others have the same MO. That said, now what were we talking about?

Paul gave her a smile just as Izzy returned with their food and put it on the bar in front of them. Enjoy, he said and started to leave.

Before you run off, Paul said. There used to be a popcorn wagon parked next to the Oriental Theater that kind of looked like a stagecoach except for all the glass windows. Is that still there?

No, the guy that ran it moved a couple of years ago. Izzy smiled, Why, you looking for some popcorn?

Paul made a pained face at him. No, it has to do with a case I’m working on. I don’t suppose you know where he moved to.

I don’t, but the street person that haunts that block might. He and the guy that made the popcorn were buds. He comes in here sometimes when he has the price of a beer or just to get warm. I usually feed him. I think he’s an ex-vet. He still has that thousand-yard stare. You had that too that last year in Nam. I’m glad you left when you did.

Keller looked from Izzy to Paul. What’s that?

It’s a blank stare, Paul said.

It’s more than a blank stare, Izzy said, and you know it. It’s a stare that sees nothing, focuses on nothing, and means that you’ve seen enough, too much, and you’re weary beyond words, and are tired of it all.

That was you? Keller said, looking at Paul.

That was him toward the end of his last tour, Izzy said before Paul could answer. And don’t deny it.

I wasn’t about to.

Good, eat your sandwich, Izzy paused. That homeless guy usually comes in here on Tuesdays and today is Tuesday.

What time?

Usually around three.

Paul looked at his watch. It was twelve-thirty-five.

I have to get back before then, Keller said.

Paul nodded then said to Izzy. I have to take Keller back to the precinct then I’ll return. If this guy comes in before I get back keep him here.

I can do that, Izzy said. The guy’s name is Al.

After an enjoyable lunch, Paul dropped Keller off in front of her precinct.

I’ll pick you up at six-fifteen, he said before she left the car. The show starts at seven. I’ll reserve a table for us at Peter’s. We’ll eat around nine. Is that all right?"

Yes, perfect, she said. Thanks for lunch. Then she turned and gave him a long kiss.

Paul was surprised. Wow, that’s a first. I thought you didn’t like to display affection in public?

She smiled and shrugged. I like doing it and I don’t care anymore who sees, count your blessings. Why, do you have a problem with that?

Paul laughed a smile. No, I like it fine.

Good, she said, so do I. Then she kissed him again and left the car.

Paul drove away just as Keller’s partner and Nick Mylonas were starting to enter the station.

Who’s the guy with Cooper? Mylonas asked.

A private cop by the name of Paul Rice, Murray said.

Is he her boyfriend? I thought you were her boyfriend? He knew that Murray really wasn’t, but said it anyway to get a rise out of him.

I thought so too, Murray said, but knew as well as Mylonas that he never had been.

What does a PI want around here?

He’s probably working a case and is pumping Keller for information like he always does.

Mylonas nodded. And what case would that be?

Murray shrugged. I don’t know. Keller didn’t say, although there was a file on her desk earlier for someone named Sandra Simpson.

5

Al’s last name was Jolson. Paul had made it back to Izzy’s in record time and found Al sitting at the bar away from the other drinkers, a few stools from where Keller and he had been sitting earlier. Paul slipped onto the stool next to him. He was eating a cheeseburger with fires and drinking a beer. Izzy made the introductions. Paul fought off the urge to have him sing Suwannee.

Al, I need to talk to your friend, the guy that had the popcorn wagon next to the Oriental Theater.

What for you want to see him? he said around a mouthful of food. Al