Free The Imposter by Judith Townsend Rocchiccioli Page B

she is there for you."
    Jack
shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, I know.  There could
be a struggle.  I've already figured that out.  Now, why did you call me down
here again on this hot as hell day when I could be eating chocolates in my air
conditioned office?" Jack smiled, but his dark eyes were serious.
    The
two locked eyes for several moments and then Jack knew without Maddy telling
him.   He shook his head and said, "Oh no!"
    Maddy
just stared at him and said simply, "He's back.  St. Germaine is
back."
    Jack
looked miserable.  "Yeah, I thought so.  I was afraid of that.  What the
hell, here we go again.   He could feel his gut tighten up and cramp."  He
was instantly depressed and despondent.
    Maddy
nodded and said, "Yeah, you're right.  Here we go again.  And we got zip
from the bodies.  We still need to identify them."
    "So,
I guess you are telling me that their throats were torn out just like the lady
in 2009?"
    "Yeah,
and their wrists were slit, as well.  We could get no finger prints off the
bodies so, hopefully, your team got some.  You were right.  The bodies had some
pretty scary tattoos on them.  They were definitely into the occult.  They had
less than 200 mLs of blood that we could drain out."
    Jack
looked glum. "This sounds identical to 2009 and 1933, as least as far as
we can tell from the police report from 1933.  And God knows how many more that
we never found.  Anything else?”
    Maddy
gestured negatively and said, "Oh, there may be one thing.  I don't think
they were killed in the Quarter.  There were scrapes to both victims’ legs that
were post mortem.  It looks like they had been dragged. There were grass and
pebbles embedded in their clothes that I am sure didn't come from the Quarter. 
The female's shoulder was broken, possibly from being shoved into a small space
or, perhaps, she was dropped from a balcony.  I can't be sure."
    "I'll
have the guys check around.  Can you maybe pin-point the grass or rocks?”
    Maddy
nodded, "Will do my best.  We're running them through the database.  We're
also data-mining everything we know.  Jack, have there been any sightings of
St.  Germaine lately that you've heard about?"
    Jack
shook his head.  "Only the ones from tourists who have been on cemetery
tours or have over-indulged.   We are always getting St. G. sighting from
drunks, at least a couple a week.  We investigate, but  there is nothing. 
We've found nothing substantive since just before the 2009 murder," Jack
reported and sighed with fatigue.  “Damn, I feel about 200 years old now.   We
don't need this Maddy.   Keep it to yourself.  We don't need any media hype of
this stuff.  You know the mayor will have a fit and we'll get the BS about
hurting tourism."
    "Got'cha. 
O.K.  I'll ask the tech to keep quiet, but you know I cannot promise
anything.   Word, no matter what you do, travels in cases like this.  Just be
prepared for a media onslaught.”
    Jack
nodded, "Just do your best and keep in touch."
    "You,
too."  Maddy hugged Jack for the second time that day.  "We've got to
stop meeting like this," she quipped.
    "Yeah,
for sure.  Thanks, Maddy, " Jack said as he left her office.

Chapter 12
     
    Jack
couldn't wait to get into the solitude of his luxury automobile, cut on the
air, and be alone for the second time that day.   He unlocked his car, laid his
head back on the Cadillac's thick cushions, and closed his eyes, grateful for
the darkly tinted windows.   After a few moments, Jack once again forced
himself to review the legend of St.  Germaine.  He really didn't want to, but
he really knew he had to.   His thoughts drifted as he reviewed St. Germaine.
    If
there was one thing Jack knew a lot about, it was New Orleans' dark and murky
underworld.   Witches and black magic, voodoo and the occult, they were all
part of New Orleans' dark, sensual, shadowy underbelly that Jack had learned to
navigate as a rookie cop.   While