Gypsey Blood (4 page)

Ahead of her, Uncle Dragus waved from behind the counter. A gold loop swung from his left ear and glittered in the ambient lighting. He had knotted the bandana on his head below his right ear. Gray hair met the collar of his baggy shirt. He had a red sash tied around his thickening middle. His broad fingers began arranging a tray of fresh-baked brownies on the lower glass shelf as she headed toward the counter.

Uncle bobbed his head up above the shelves. “About time you visit. Be too long.”

Rita always thought of Uncle’s broken English as cute. He had come to
America
years after her mother and hadn’t bothered to grasp all the nuances.

“Busy.” Rita plopped on a stool at the counter next to the breads and pastries that her uncle delighted in baking. The heavy, chocolate aroma made her mouth water and reminded her that she had missed lunch. One of Uncle’s brownies, loaded with black walnuts, were a chocoholic’s fix for a week.

Finished with the stacking, he yelled to the back kitchen. “Millie. Make chicken salad.
Sweet rye bread, for my niece to eat.”

“Comin’ right up, oh mighty
master
,” the main cook yelled back.

Uncle scowled, shook his head. “One day, I fire that sharp-tongued woman.”

Rita smirked. “Well, maybe you should try asking instead of shouting demands.”

“Who shout? Big
man have
big voice.” He wiped the counter and filled her in on the latest gossip about the other shop owners in the square. When the bell dinged, he collected the readied plate from the serving window.

Rita wolfed down half the sandwich. She watched her mother tuck money into her blouse, smile at the woman, then maneuver her electric wheelchair around tables and customers to reach the counter. Gold slippers peeked from beneath Anna’s long, flowered skirt.

“Business looks good, Ma.
You feeling okay?
You look a little pale.”

“Ach.”
Anna waved her hand in the air. “It bothers me sometimes to keep the truth back from customers.”

“You say destiny win anyway, Anna.” Dragus looked at Anna’s legs.
“Ja.
You say you learn with big car crash. Not even you stop people’s sadness.”

Anna nodded and twisted the wedding band she still wore. “When I read their palms and see troubles coming to them, it gets harder to fight giving them the words to make them ready in some way.”

“If it’s not life-threatening, Ma, even you’ve admitted it’s best to keep it to yourself, give no warnings. You can’t prevent life’s little hiccups.”

“That doesn’t lessen my discomfort.” Anna brushed a strand of hair from her eyes.
“Ach.
Enough.
I have to live with it. Eat.”

Rita swiveled on the stool and finished her quick dinner, sipped hot tea, and tackled the brownie Uncle Dragus set before her. Rich, creamy chocolate coated her tongue. Rolling her eyes, she sighed, “Umm, wonderful.” She licked her lips, catching each stray crumb. “You know, Uncle, the guys at the station are thinking of arresting you and setting you up in a cell so you can bake for them.”

Dragus laughed. He leaned his wide body over the counter and whispered, “You tell I use little hish-hash.
Secret ingredient.”

“Oh Lord, then they may never let you out of the jail,” Rita teased.

Anna’s brown eyes glinted, her gaze sweeping over Rita’s face. “Hmm, though it’s nice to see my daughter again, I think she has something heavy on her mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right as usual. I really need to talk to you both.”

“If it’s about the man you met today, he will be good for you. You already more than half trust him.”

Rita closed her eyes and pretended to bang her forehead on the counter. At times, she was glad that her mother’s extra-sensory receptors worked so well. Other times, she wished her mother would point her antenna in another direction.

“No, not about him,” she said. “But it’s important.”

“Let’s all go back to the office.” Anna angled her chair toward a paneled door at the rear of the restaurant.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Rita blurted, “The crystal’s not working right.”

“Impossible.” Anna guided her chair to the large oval desk. “The crystal has never weakened. Your chosen work is why I gave it to you. Its powers have helped you. Guided and protected you.”

Standing near the window, Uncle Dragus nodded.

Rita slouched in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. “Have you been following the news of the murdered prostitutes?”
  
 

Anna tapped her fingers on the desk, her eyebrows rose. “Tea leaves and palms are not the only things I read. We still do read the newspaper.”

“Okay.” Rita sat up straight and eased forward on the chair. “Well, I can feel the crystal’s warmth, the power pulsing up my arm. But, I haven’t seen the image of the killer in the eyes of the victims, only the person they had seen before they were murdered.”

“Then the murderer must have attacked these women from behind,” said Anna. “This has happened to you before.”

“No, Ma. The M.E. says it was a frontal assault.”

“Ach, that can’t be. Your doctor is wrong.”

Uncle walked to the desk. “Or maybe your mind too tired, Rita. You know you need think hard to see face on eyes.”

Rita didn’t believe the job, the mental and emotional strain, would weaken her ability with the crystal. There had to be other times down through their lineage when the crystal failed. “No, Uncle. The amulet is off somehow.”

Dragus stared at his boots, his cheeks reddened. “Maybe it to do with dreams you
tell
me about, Anna.”

“What dreams?” Rita shot a glare at Uncle. “What are you talking about?”

 
Anna’s gaze shifted to Dragus who had backed up a few steps. “My brother has a big mouth.” She laced her fingers on her lap and sighed. “I dream sometimes of an odd presence hovering over me. I try to flee,
then
I smell a moldy earth odor that shifts on the wind.” She rubbed her arms as if chilled. “At times, I feel like a wet shroud is covering my skin. I can’t make sense of it. It’s too vague.”

“I see you look over shoulder lots while we work, Anna,” Dragus interjected. “And you always wipe sweat from forehead.”

“You think your dreams have something to do with blocking my amulet?”

Anna let out a long sigh. “We have the same bloodline, yes, but the crystal can’t lose its power because you are the keeper now, not me.”

“Is there something else about these dreams you’re not telling me?”

Anna glanced at Dragus, then back at Rita. “The dreams have no solid meaning that I can make sense of.” She looked toward the window, her eyes distant for a moment.
“Ach.
I think it’s probably this womanly change affecting my nights. Dragus should never have mentioned them. Isn’t that right, Brother?”

Uncle’s face drained of expression with Anna’s words. He walked behind Anna and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder, yet kept his gaze on Rita.
“Ja.
Anna right.
Nothing
stop
power. Only when holder not think hard, when mind is tired.”

 
She sensed Anna holding back, but trusted that she wouldn’t hesitate to tell her if she felt something relevant to Rita’s safety. She intended to dig deeper into Anna’s dreams when her thoughts weren’t so preoccupied with the threat to her city. Right now though, she needed some insight to help get the heirloom back to full strength. Some clue as to the why of her eerie feel of this case. Rita had to take the chance.

“Ma, I know you’re going to hate this, but would you consider using your crystal ball? I can’t grasp this odd sense I have about the case. If the situation wasn’t so horrific, women’s lives at stake, I wouldn’t ask.”

Her mother’s eyes filled with sadness. “How can you ask this of me? You know I will not.” Anna’s fists clenched. “I have seen enough pain in my life. No.
Never again.
The ball will stay locked away in my trunk upstairs.”

Rita cringed. Five years ago, Anna had foreseen her parents’ bullet-riddled bodies in the crystal ball when they had traveled from their home in
Romania
to visit cousins in
Bosnia
. Countless telephone calls to her parents went unanswered. Helpless to prevent the tragedy from here in
America
, Anna had thrown the crystal ball into the trunk and withdrew from the outside world for months.

Jamming her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans as she stood, Rita pulled her shoulders straight. “Sorry, I was hoping you’d make an exception to help me figure out this crazy killer’s ritual. Maybe see a clue. Especially since my amulet’s acting a bit whacko.”

“What does it matter what kind of ritual the murderer is following? Your people still have to catch him.” Anna leaned forward. “I would use it to help you, but I feel strongly that my last sight would taint my perceptions.”

Rita opened her mouth to argue, but Dragus interrupted.

“Enough. Amulet will protect you, always. You need good rest to make strong your mind when you look in dead eyes. Come, it time I play violin. Maybe I bend spoons to amuse customers.”

Rita bit her tongue to keep from spouting words she would regret. Anna was terrified of seeing another family disaster, and she didn’t have the heart to push her stubborn mother into a guilt trip. Rita gave Anna a quick peck on the cheek. Hugging Dragus once more, she escaped through the rear door of the office.

The lights in the parking lot held back the ink-stained night, but not the dread creeping into her soul. A shiver coursed through her body. Matt’s specific orders that he would take the killer down alone was way off-kilter. Something felt so wrong with this whole scenario. Everyone on the task force knew it. They all wanted answers. She glanced at her watch.
Time to change clothes and hit the strip district.
Would the crystal continue to give her warnings, or would that power soon fade, too?

Chapter Five

Rita’s red stiletto heels clicked on the sidewalk as she swayed her hips and strolled along. Strands from her blonde wig blew across her face. A beaded tote bag hung from her shoulder, the weight of her .40 caliber Glock inside bumped against her side with each step.

Chilly gusts of wind whipped down the neon-lit street and up her mini-skirt. The waist-length faux fur kept her shoulders warm, but her buns felt like twin snow cones.

Damn, she envied Sully sitting in the warm car across the street. She glanced at his car and tapped the mic at her waist. “Hope you’re warm and cozy, you gray-haired wuss. I’m freezing my ass off.” Sully flicked his cigarette lighter twice inside the car. Rita pictured him chuckling and drinking hot coffee. She’d give her left kidney for a steaming cup right now.

 
Four girls worked the action outside the Totem Pole, smoking and shivering. A few hookers trolled the street corners. The smarter ones were inside, keeping warm and picking up johns in the bars lining the strip. Raucous laughter and brassy music faded in and out when customers entered or left the clubs.
  

Rita eyed every car that slowed as it passed. The suspect could have changed vehicles. Hank had Della under his eye on the next block. Sully would swing by and pick her up if Della latched onto their man. Matt parked somewhere in the area, ready to roll.

Footsteps shuffled behind her. Her every sense refocused and went on red alert.

A hand slid under her arm. She tensed.

“Heya, babe.”

She turned her head. The foul breath of an acne-faced kid blasted her. Shit!
Just what she needed.
A teenager boozed and buzzed.

“Have
a.
. .a. . .twenty. How ‘bout
a.
. .a quicky?”

She pasted on a fake smile.
“ Jeez
, it must be your allowance. Wait just a little ol’ moment, sweetie.” Rita pushed her hair over her shoulder, and then riffled through her bag. She draped her arm around the kid’s pencil-thin neck, pulled him behind a locked newspaper kiosk, and forced him to look down into her purse at her badge.