Out of Body (5 page)

She narrowed her eyes. “Her. Just as I don’t believe in baby talk for children, I don’t like it for animals, either. Back, Winnie. Now, can we continue?”

Fisher wore jeans that rode below his waist, and a black T-shirt. The T-shirt shouldn’t have to be so tight. Surely he could find one big enough for all those muscles. Men could be like that. They liked showing off what studs they were.

“Liza had a mark on her neck,” Marley said and her eyes widened. She hadn’t remembered that until now. “A round, red mark right in the front. I thought it was blood, but I don’t know for sure.”

Fisher snickered. Complete with bone, Winnie had dragged herself beside him and rolled onto her back. She lay there with all four feet in the air, displaying her pink tummy.

Absently, Marley pulled another candy from her pocket. Her dog was a floozie, letting a strange man scratch her belly.

“Can we stay with the program?” Detective Archer said.

“Happily.” She was amused at how easy it was to ward off Fisher’s attempts to read her thoughts. “As soon as I got closer to Liza, the voice got more intense.”

“What was he saying to her?”

Marley concentrated on the detective. “Honestly, just like I said before, I couldn’t see him and I couldn’t make
out everything he said, except he wanted her to come to him. That was obvious. I think he was hiding in the locker.”

“So, you just heard sounds really?”

“More than sounds.” She frowned at Fisher. He petted the dog, but his motions were jerky. Twice he stopped to rub his hands together. Marley looked at her own hands. They remained cold. The nail beds were blue.

“And?” Fisher said.

Archer shrugged and grinned at Marley. “I told you he keeps forgetting he’s not a cop anymore.”

“And?” Fisher repeated. He had an unforgettable voice himself. She didn’t doubt it could be mesmerizing in the right circumstances.

“You think this guy was mesmerizing Liza?” Fisher said.

Stunned, Marley barely stopped herself from shooting to her feet. He had heard her think about a voice being mesmerizing. At least, he’d picked up that idea and twisted it a little, even if he didn’t realize it. “He could have been,” she said tightly. She had never encountered anything like this before.

“I’ve never believed in that,” Archer said.

“Well, you ought to,” Marley said. “There’s a great deal more in this world than meets the eye.” She had to stop getting goaded into careless statements.

“Liza backed into the freezer or locker or whatever it was and the door shut.”

“Did you try to get her out?”

She looked back at Archer with a horrified feeling. “Yes, but I couldn’t. I had to leave.”

“You were frightened?” Fisher said. “More frightened than ever. That’s understandable.”

“No,” she cried. “That’s not it. She stayed in that place and she must be dead. I know she is. I felt her die.”

The office door opened and Marley slumped in her chair, relieved by the interruption.

A uniformed officer entered, handed a folded piece of paper to Archer and left again.

But Archer didn’t take his eyes off Marley. “What do you mean, you felt her die? You’re sure she’s dead, aren’t you? How about Amber Lee?”

“I don’t know.” She swallowed. “I don’t really know what’s happened to either of them. If I try to explain, will you promise not to disregard everything I’ve told you?”

“Your report will be checked out,” he said. In other words, there was no commitment.

“There wasn’t a car or a cab. I made that up because I was afraid you wouldn’t believe the truth.”

He raised his brows, but didn’t interrupt.

“I traveled there.”

Still he listened without speaking, but he did look at the paper in his hands. Probably trying not to let her see his impatience.

“You see, I…Well, I’m psychic, but I also have out-of-body experiences. I saw each of them, Liza and Amber, when I was away from my body.”

“G
ive me a minute here, please,” Archer said, buying time while he decided what to say next.

He unfolded the piece of paper that had been delivered earlier.

Most medical examiners would have picked up the phone. Not Blades. He preferred using other methods so that he didn’t have to answer questions until he was ready.

Archer
, Blades’s fax started.

“Thanks for the education, Dr. Death,” Archer said under his breath. Immediately, he looked from Gray to the crazy lady fate had visited on him. They both watched him expectantly.

He returned to Blades’s cryptic note:

“Oh, my God,” he said, and was tempted to reach for the Bong vodka again. The beast who murdered her had cut out her voice.

F
inding out the name of the club where Amber had sung with her partner, Sidney, had been harder than Marley expected. The club wasn’t well-known and only after making call after call had she caught up with the duo. Marley didn’t expect to find out much, but she had to start somewhere and Scully’s Club seemed her only choice.

“You want me to wait?” the cab driver said.

Marley looked through the car window, making up her mind. “No, thanks,” she said finally and got out, paying him off quickly. It was really late and she might have been better waiting until the morning, but for Liza and Amber, every minute could count.

The entrance to Scully’s at the Hotel Camille was set back from the sidewalk just off the foot of Canal Street. Marley heard live music through the closed doors.

Not far from the river and barely on the edge of the Quarter, this had to be a minor foot-in-the-door place for fledgling musicians.

Her stomach squeezed, and letting the cab go didn’t seem such a good idea anymore, but she pushed on a polished brass handle and went in.

Inside the club, laughter and conversation came in bursts. Scents of beer, booze and perfume made her nose itch. The light was low, but not so low she couldn’t see clearly enough.

The bar dominated the middle of a big room decked out in green-and-white stripes, heavy chintz fabrics, crops of British hunting scenes on every wall and an overstuffed Victorian atmosphere. Men turned to look at her but Marley had expected that, coming here alone at almost midnight. But she was only blocks away from home and she’d get another cab when she left.

Accompanied by a pianist, a woman played a guitar and sang the blues. Nice voice. Not remarkable, but nice and mellow. She looked and sounded melancholy. The pianist was worth listening to on his own.

Marley went to the bar and climbed on a stool. She would rather have hidden herself in one of the curtained alcoves at the far end of the room, but that would not be the way to do what she’d come for: to find out what she could about Amber Lee.

Scully’s had been Amber’s last gig before she disappeared. The place wasn’t famous and neither were Amber and Sidney, but Marley had tracked them all down.

“This’ll help you make up your mind,” the bartender said with an Irish brogue. He opened a list of drinks in front of her. “Unless you already know, colleen.”

She smiled at him and decided he was about her age, but his worldly brown eyes had probably seen much more…of
this
world.

Marley looked at the list. “Only martinis?” She laughed. “Every kind of martini.”

The bartender put his elbows on the counter and crossed his forearms. “And every kind of gin. But if you don’t drink gin, try me with whatever takes your fancy.”

“I’m having one of these,” she said. “Kiwi and sour apple martini. That sounds good.” She wanted to fit in, preferably to just about disappear.

Sitting sideways on her stool, Marley watched the singer. Someone behind her tapped her shoulder and Marley glanced around.

A blond man, maybe in his forties, smiled at her from the next stool. “Is it okay if I hit on you?” he said, and giggled at his own brilliance.

Marley smiled politely and turned back to the singer.

Another tap on the shoulder.

This time she ignored him.

The bartender slid a large martini glass filled to the brim with a pale green drink toward her. In amber-shaded light the contents of the glass reminded her of other things, like a tunnel she’d swum through, and its consistency was as if it had been mixed with light oil. Pretty in a way.

A big hand shot out from beside her to throw down a fifty. “The lady’s drink is on me, Danny,” the blond man said. “Take it out of that.”

Marley rallied quickly and looked Danny in the eye. “I’ll be running my own tab,” she said, pleased that she could sound as if she did this sort of thing regularly.

“You’ve got it,” Danny said, ignoring Blondy’s money.

“What’s the singer’s name?” Marley asked.

Danny squinted, appeared to become distant. He looked past Marley. “That’s Sidney. She got the pianist for tonight. Amber, that’s her partner, she plays the keyboard—and sings, mind you. Now that girl’s got the voice of an angel.”

Marley turned back to stare at the singer. This was the Sidney of Amber and Sidney. Right there. It was far more than she had hoped for. She had to know where Amber lived, who her friends were, and at least
something
that would be useful in helping to find the woman. The police probably already knew the details, but they wouldn’t be sharing any information with her.

After making the mistake of being direct with him that afternoon, Detective Archer had treated her kindly enough, if a virtual pat on the head and a warning not to let what she saw on television fool with her imagination were kind.

Archer had warned Marley that people who tried to get at
tention by pretending to know something about a crime could get into big trouble. The tingling embarrassment she had felt then made a return appearance and she hunched her shoulders.

A cloth in Danny’s hands squeaked around the rim of a glass. When Marley looked at him, he was staring at her and frowning. He threw down the cloth and crossed his arms on the bar again, leaning closer to Marley. “It’s late,” he said. “Can you call someone to come and see you home when you’re ready?”

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled, liking him for the concern. “I’ll get a cab.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Having a martini,” she said. So she stuck out like a nun at a Chippendale show.

“Okay, have it your own way, then.”

“Thank you, though.” She smiled at him. “Does Sidney…Do Amber and Sidney sing here every night?”

“They used to,” he said, noncommittal. “Most nights, anyway.”

“When did they come back?”

“This is Sidney’s first night back since…Amber—you’ve heard of Amber before?”

“I have.” Nothing would be gained by pretending otherwise. “And I know she’s missing, but you talk as if she’s still here.”

He gave her a speculative stare and moved away to serve several other customers. For the time of night there was plenty of business around.

Sidney had a face not easily forgotten. Latin features and olive skin. Dark arched brows, large, heavily-lashed brown eyes, a narrow-bridged nose, fine, high cheekbones and jaw. Her hair shone honey-colored, but Marley didn’t think it was the natural color—it ought to be black. A lovely woman with a lovely figure—and something markedly aloof about her.

A different bartender asked if she wanted another
drink. Marley looked at her almost untouched glass and shook her head.

“Can I talk to you?” Danny appeared at her right shoulder. He was anxious, everything about him troubled—and vigilant.

“Of course,” she told him, excited in case she was finally about to learn something useful.

He led her between round, brass-topped tables to one of the alcoves where looped and fringed draperies gave an impression of privacy for the table and banquettes inside. They slid onto seats upholstered in green cabbage-rose fabric.

“Are you here about Amber?” Danny said without preamble. “You don’t look like a cop, but that doesn’t mean you’re not one.”

“I’m not one.”

“But—”

“Yes, I came to see if I could find out anything about Amber.”

“You’re just looking for a diversion?” Danny said. “You get a kick out of other people’s tragedies?”

She shook her head fiercely. “No way. I hate that kind of thing. I’ve got a good reason for being here. Take it or leave it.”

Danny studied her awhile before he glanced away. “Okay, if you say so.”

“Thanks,” Marley said. “I’m amazed to see Amber’s partner here. I thought she wouldn’t talk to anyone.”

“She won’t. But she wants to get back to work. She’s ambitious.”

The tone of his voice was neutral, but Marley thought something other than her was making him uncomfortable or angry.

“And you don’t think she should be singing again.”

He shook his head. “Not as long as Amber’s missing. It’s not right.”

“People need money to live,” she pointed out.

“Yes.” He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about her, really, except she’s private, just like Amber was. Like she
is
.” He corrected himself forcefully.

“Are you two friends?” she asked, prepared for Danny to refuse an answer.

“Yes,” he said.

She waited, but he didn’t add any more.

“Do the police know that?”

He shrugged again.

“They’re scratching for leads,” she told him. “They’d want any information you’ve got.”

“I love her,” he said, looking at his hands. “She doesn’t take me seriously so we’re just friends. I think something happened and she took off. Could be her brother. She used to talk about him and I thought he worried her. Maybe she went to look for him.”

“Don’t you think the police could use your ideas?” Marley said, while he kept staring at his fingers, laced tightly together on the table. “Why are you telling me these things when you won’t tell the police?”

“You’re different.” He pushed back on the banquette and stared at her, his lips parted. His eyes darkened and faint lines of color rose high on his cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m telling you. I’ve been desperate. I suppose I…I can feel that you care about her, too. You know her, don’t you?” His whole upper body lunged over the table.

“I do care,” Marley said. She controlled an automatic need to move back from his face. There was nothing new about someone being drawn to her. They felt her empathy and it attracted them. People talked to her, told her personal things that would surprise her if she didn’t understand why it happened.

“You didn’t say who you are,” he said.

She hesitated.

“I’m not dangerous,” Danny said. “Anyone will vouch for me. I’ve been here at Scully’s two years.”

He could say anything, but she had no means of knowing if he was truthful. “Is Amber your girlfriend?”

“No. I told you she’s a friend, but not my girlfriend.”

“Why doesn’t she want more?”

“I can’t talk about that.”

“Okay.” He hadn’t said a word that would help her find Amber. “Where does she live?”

“She’s so private. She wouldn’t forgive me if I gave away the peace she’s made for herself.”

“But you do know where she lives?” Marley persisted. Detective Archer had pretended not to hear the question when she asked him.

Applause broke out for Sidney and the pianist. Sidney had been sitting on a stool, but now she stood and Marley saw that she was tall.

“I do know,” Danny said.

Marley cocked her head. “I thought you did, but I didn’t expect you to admit it. Didn’t the police ask you a lot about her?”

He looked closed, stubborn.

“They did, but you didn’t tell them much.” Suddenly she was uncomfortable and wished she was back in her flat. He had admitted something to her that he’d refused to tell the authorities. Was he trying to gain her trust?

How could she know if Danny had played a part in Amber’s disappearance?

“Why don’t you let me take you home?” he said. “Ben’s covering for me. I’d feel better if I knew you were safe.”

Each little hair on Marley’s neck rose. Her back prickled. “I’d like to finish my drink,” she told him, with no intention of doing so.

“Of course. Take your time. You won’t repeat anything I’ve said, will you?”

She had to lie. “No.”

He walked away, only to come back with her drink before
she could decide on the next step. “Why are you looking for Amber?” he said.

The only surprise was that he hadn’t asked that very question before. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Do it anyway.” His voice grew more intense and his lips scarcely moved. “Tell me what you know. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Marley expelled a breath through pursed lips. Too often she spoke too fast and before thinking enough. “I’m in a bad spot about this, too.”

When he closed the fingers of his left hand around her wrist, Marley winced. She wouldn’t allow herself to try pulling away. “That doesn’t feel so good.” She looked pointedly at his hand.

“If you know anything about what’s happened to her, tell me. Now.” His grip tightened.

“Loosen up, Danny,” a familiar male voice said, and Danny’s fingers went slack. Pain contorted his face.

Marley snatched her wrist away and turned on her seat, shifting back in the booth at the same time.

“You okay, Marley?” Gray Fisher asked, still squeezing a tendon in Danny’s shoulder.