Free Blood Game by Iris Johansen Page B

What tipped the scales and made you think that maybe I could help you?”
    “Nancy Jo told me that the man who killed her had grabbed her from behind, held a handkerchief over her nose, and knocked her out. The autopsy showed she’d been dosed with ether. It was slim evidence, but I grabbed at it.”
    “I would have done the same,” Megan said. “And that’s not so slim.”
    “Yes, it is. I’d say it’s wishful thinking, but I don’t like either option.”
    “But you’ve already accepted one of them, or you wouldn’t be here.”
    “Any port in a storm. If you did this to me, can you undo it?”
    She shook her head. “I think you’re stuck with it. But I’ll try to find out.”
    “For God’s sake, don’t you know?”
    “Dammit, I told you. I’m new at this. I didn’t even know I had any so-called psychic talents until a few months ago. I’m certainly no authority, for heaven’s sake. But I’ll call my friend Renata Wilger in Munich, and see if she knows someone who can help you.”
    “Another psychic voodoo priestess?”
    She shook her head. “Not really. Renata is a distant cousin, and she’s sort of an agent for a family business. But she has contacts.”
    “What family? It sounds like the Mafia.”
    “No. It’s the Devanez family.” She hesitated. She’d have to tell him. She owed him the whole truth. “It’s a very old family and some of the members have certain . . . talents.”
    “A whole family of freaks? What the hell am I getting into?”
    “Look, I know this is difficult for you. Well, it’s not easy for me.” She didn’t blame him for being impatient. Her explanation would probably not make it any more acceptable. “I found out I was a member of the Devanez family at the same time I learned I was one of these ‘freaks’ you’re talking about. The Devanezes were originally landholders in southern Spain. In 1485, they fled Spain to escape the Inquisition. The local peasants had gone to their priests and accused the family of every form of witchcraft from predicting the future to shape changing. Some of it was sheer superstition, but there was no doubt the family had certain talents. The family scattered to practically every corner of the civilized world and went into hiding. But Jose, the head of the family, believed in strength in Unity, and didn’t want the family to lose contact with each other. He created a ledger that listed names, addresses, even talents, of family members, and sent it out of the country with his brother, Miguel. Since then there’s always been a keeper of the ledger who visits around the world and keeps track of the family.” She paused. “And problems that we might be having because of any gift we might have.”
    “And Renata Wilger can contact this damn keeper of the ledger and find me help?”
    “Renata is the keeper of the ledger.” She added quietly, “And she’s my friend. She’ll do whatever she can.”
    “I hate having to rely on you, or her, or anyone else.” His tone was edged with frustration. “I don’t want this. I’m clutching at straws. I don’t want anything to do with your mumbo jumbo.”
    “Then walk away from me. Go to a psychiatrist. I’m sure that he’d tell you that after a few hundred sessions you wouldn’t see any more spirits. Or maybe you’ll just learn to ignore them.”
    He was silent. “Do you think I’m imagining them?”
    “No, I think you’re too hardheaded to imagine anything.” She made a face. “I think I zapped you.”
    He shook his head in disgust. “It just shows how far gone I am that that statement fills me with relief.”
    She got to her feet. “I’ll call Renata. I need someone a hell of a lot more knowledgeable than I am to tell you what to do. I don’t even know where to start.”
    “I’ll tell you where to start,” Joe said. “I want you to come with me to Allatoona.”
    Her eyes widened. “Why?”
    “I want you to tell me if you hear Nancy Jo Norris and what she tells