Never Die Alone

Caldwell had pretty much buried himself. The jury had found Delta and Diana’s brother guilty of their ritualistic murders.

As Montoya sped through the city streets, Bentz dialed Jonas Hayes’s cell phone. It was two hours earlier in LA, so Bentz figured Hayes should still be working.

The Mustang’s air conditioner kicked on, cool air starting to stream through the vents as Bentz waited. He watched as the buildings of the city passed by, shadows crawling across the storefronts before Montoya angled the Mustang to the freeway, heading north-west.

His call went directly to voice mail.

It figured.

So far today, nothing had come together. He left his name and number.

Maybe he’d get lucky in Baton Rouge.

Then again, maybe he’d strike out.

CHAPTER 10

The meeting hall smelled of age and disrepair. None of the antiseptic, bleach, or pine-scented cleaning supplies used to freshen up the old floors, walls, and counters could hide the fact that Aubrey House was well over 200 years old. As such, the timbers, bricks, and mortar had endured and survived dozens of disasters including hurricanes, floods, and even fire. Located in the French Quarter, Aubrey House had been built as the home of a baroness; over the decades and centuries it had been renovated and remodeled, cut into apartments, and retrofitted to its original glory. Now, it housed a variety of businesses, everything from a CPA to a psychic who read tarot cards and Bria

The original ballroom was now a meeting area, complete with portable walls that could be moved to accommodate different-sized groups. Tonight, the north-west quadrant was home to a twinless twins support group, which Bria

As the organizer and leader, Bria

“Where have you been?” Tanisha chided as Mr. Coffee gurgled and sputtered. Dressed as always to the nines, her hair scraped back by a glittering headband that held her tight-knit curls away from her face, Tanisha sent Bria

“Delayed. Sorry.” Bria

“I know what you mean.”

Bria

“I tell ya, I couldn’t get back to sleep last night,” Tanisha went on, her mocha-colored skin looking smooth as silk under the once-upon-a-time ballroom’s chandeliers. Suspended from twenty-foot coved ceilings, the lights gave off a warm glow reminiscent of another era. The old-world charm was definitely at odds with the mismatched twentieth-century furniture and portable “walls” used to separate the huge space.

“That dream I had?” Tanisha continued. “Whooee. So damned real. Lord!” Her eyebrows drew together as if she were still attempting to figure out the nightmare. “Don’t know what it means. But something was off last night. Something big, a separation thing.” As if she realized she was talking to herself, she glanced at Bria

“No.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I guess you haven’t talked to Selma?”

Tanisha gave a soft snort of disgust. “Why would I?” Tanisha rolled her expressive, mascara-rimmed eyes. She and Selma had never really gotten to know each other. Whereas Selma De

“I don’t know, I thought she might have called you and . . . and some of the others in the group,” Bria

“Well, she didn’t.” Tanisha’s back was still up. “So what’s up? God, that woman’s a dishrag. No backbone, y’ know.”

“Her twins are missing. Both girls.”

“Missing?” She still wasn’t getting it. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she frowned. “What do you mean ‘missing’? As in adult kids didn’t come in or call Mommy?”

“It’s more than that.”

As Tanisha doctored her coffee with sugar and powdered cream, Bria

“We don’t know. Yet.”

“This is awful.” Tanisha set her undrunk cup on the tray holding the Air-Pot and glanced toward the entry as members of the group began to stream in.

Lincoln Robinson, a musician, could rarely scare up a smile despite the fact that he was happily married and the father of a fifteen-year-old scholar who was following in her father’s footsteps as a pianist. Still, the weight of losing his brother was a burden Lincoln had trouble shouldering. Survivor’s guilt. Both boys had been in an automobile accident nearly twenty years ago; while Lincoln survived, his brother had been pronounced DOA at the hospital. Tall, lean, and African American, Lincoln was a thoughtful member of the group, offering his stories and opinions quietly. He was the opposite of outspoken and direct Tanisha.

Lincoln lifted a hand in greeting and made his way to a chair he favored, positioned near the broad bank of windows ru

Milo, in his usual camouflage gear, grabbed a cup of black coffee and found a seat. He was on the quiet side, his co

Desmond didn’t bother with coffee, and as he lumbered in, Bria