The Nocebo Affair

1

FIRST IMPRESSION

M

y first, and eventually last, impression of Abigail Delrose was she was the kind of person who made you glad you weren’t swimming in her gene pool.

It all started when she clumped her way into my office one fateful summer morning. It was hot and humid. The old building where I met clients, and that doubled as an occasional residence, was in desperate need of air conditioning that worked. To make matters worse I was still nursing a humdinger of a hangover from the night before.

I heard her coming down the tiled floor hallway. Clump, shuffle, shuffle, clump, shuffle, shuffle. Then came the banging. That awful cane rapping on the frosted glass of my office door.

“Come in damn it, and stop that incessant banging,” I yelled.

The door swung open and I saw the matron from hell standing in my doorway. I heard it said that first impressions are lasting impressions. My impression when she began babbling in her creaky voice was no way would she be a client of mine and I told her so.

You might be wondering who I am and that’s a fair question. My name is Frank Love. I’m a private investigator. It said as much on the nifty name plaque the old broad had snatched from my desk and was waving in my face.

“What do you mean you won’t take my case? You don’t even know what I want you to do yet, you vile little man.”

“It doesn’t matter lady. I require all my clients have a personality and that’s something severely lacking in you. Maybe you could take the money you were going to use to hire me and buy yourself one.”

That’s when she slapped the cashier’s check on my desk blotter. I looked at it and swallowed hard. There were a whole lot of zeros on that piece of paper and it was signed by one Abigail Delrose. I recognized the last name because it was on several buildings in town. It seemed to be a name others tried to avoid speaking in polite company, but the dollar amount on the check said she was my new favorite client.

“Maybe I was a little hasty in my assessment of you,” I said.

“I really don’t care about your assessment of me Mr. Love. What I do care about is that you find out who caused the death of my granddaughter so I can make them wish they were never born.”

“Ms. Delrose, I’m guessing you’ve been to the police with your concern,” I said as I stared at the check in my hand.

“Yes, yes, and the cop I talked to told me he didn’t think a crime had been committed. I think he’s an idiot.”

Being relatively new to Fayetteville I was beginning to wonder why I retired from the New York Police Department and moved to North Carolina. Don’t get me wrong I loved the slower pace and the people were generally nice. I spent my days drinking and checking out the local flora and fauna. But, it wasn’t long before I missed the juice, that adrenaline rush that comes from tracking down bad guys. That was when I hung my shingle in old Dixie and became another misplaced Yankee who thought he could outthink the locals any day of the week.

I quickly discovered that instead of dream cases involving beautiful southern belles hoping to be rescued by a suave detective; I was dealing with bail jumpers and a variety of miscreants that somehow forgot to apply for membership in the human race.

But I digress. As I was saying, I was now looking at a serious increase in my disposable income. This meant I might be able to afford to get the air-conditioning in my office updated, but first I had to swallow my pride and try to do as my benefactor wished.

“I’ll investigate your claim Ms. Delrose. What you do with that information is your business, but I won’t be a party to anything that involves me doing jail time, understand me?”

“I understand you more than you can imagine Mr. Love.”

I wasn’t quite sure what the old broad meant by that, but it was good enough for me. I told her I would get back to her the following day. She merely nodded and then turned and left my office.

The first order of business was to get to the bank and make sure the check she gave me wasn’t going to bounce. Then I had to gather my thoughts and figure out where to begin, and for me that meant visiting my favorite bar and downing a few brews to alleviate my headache.

The young cashier at the bank was all smiles when I handed her the check for deposit until she saw the name in the signature block. Her demeanor changed and she acted like I had asked her to do something inappropriate. When I asked her if she knew the Delrose family she suddenly had something more important to do elsewhere and just walked away after shoving a receipt at me.

After the less than warm reception at the bank I was feeling like a pariah. Sitting on a barstool enjoying my beer I was beginning to feel a bit better. I looked around at some of the other patrons wondering which of them would be the best source of information about the Delrose family. I had to make my selection carefully. I didn’t want to empty the place out by mentioning a name that seemed to garner contempt.

Two stools down from me was a man who had obviously had more than his share of beer. My guess was he might be open to discussing any topic as long as someone kept filling his glass. I looked at him and when he made eye contact I raised my glass and said “Hey.”

He made a feeble attempt to mimic my gesture, but his glass seemed too heavy for him in his present condition, so he just nodded. I hopped down a stool and introduced myself and we shook hands. I motioned for the barkeep to bring a couple more beers and the conversation began.

“Are you a local?” I asked.

“Yep, born and raised.”

“I’m kinda new in the area and just trying to feel my way around. Do you happen to know anything about the Delrose family?”

“Oh shit mister, you want to stay clear of that bunch,” he said as he looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening.

I shoved another pint of beer in front of him and waited until he downed half before pressing on with my questions. I lowered my voice in hope it would make him feel more comfortable.

“What’s wrong with them? Are they dangerous?”

“Not for the most part…Well maybe a little, but they have a lot of influence and know how to make trouble for someone who rubs them the wrong way. I wouldn’t go asking too many questions about any of them. You may end up regretting it.”

I bought him another drink and then picked up my beer and moved to a table in the back to think. I took my trusty notebook from the pocket of my shirt, unclipped the shorty pen, and jotted some notes and a whole lot of questions for which I needed answers if I was going to earn my sizeable retainer.

Sitting in the darkened atmosphere of the bar I wondered how I was going to get background on a family whose very name made people uncomfortable. The answer of course was to question my client, and to do that I would have to pay her a visit.

If she had given me a personal check I could have gotten the address and phone number from that, but the cashier’s check made that impossible. If only I hadn’t been dazzled by the amount of the check I may have had the presence of mind to ask her for her personal information when she was in my office.

I started toward the bar to see if I could press my new friend for an address. That was when I noticed he was being questioned by a couple of unhappy looking gents. Not wanting to get involved in any squabbles I changed course and headed for the door.

“Hey Bubba!” said a voice behind me.

I’m not sure what possessed me to turn around instead of continuing to walk to the door, but turn around I did.

“My name’s Frank. You must have me confused with this Bubba fella,” I said.

The biggest of the two guys looked at the other and smiled.

“Looks like we have us one of them smart-ass Yankees in our presence,” said the big guy. The other guy just nodded.

I had a bad feeling about where the conversation was going and I had little doubt it wasn’t going to end well for somebody. There was a sixty percent chance that somebody was going to be me. My mother had always taught me to try and talk myself out of bad situations.

“I’m not trying to be a smart-ass. I was just letting you know my name is Frank.”

“He looks more like a dick to me,” said the smaller guy and both men laughed as they moved toward me.

It was time to switch to my father’s advice about what to do in a situation like this. I began looking around for anything I could use to even my odds of surviving the fight I knew was coming.

When the big guy made his move I grabbed a half-full beer bottle off the table next to me and jammed it neck first into his gaping mouth full of yellow teeth. He began to gag and that’s when I tilted the bottle up and dumped the contents down his throat. The look of surprise on his face was priceless.

The smaller guy was momentarily stunned and a bit concerned about the big guy’s predicament. When he turned to face me he was just in time to see my knee coming up to connect with his crotch. The impact was enough to make his eyes bulge and elicit an “oomph” from his lips before he crumpled to the floor.

I turned my attention to the big guy once again and saw him on the floor convulsing. I raised my foot and brought it down on his stomach. The beer bottle I had lodged in his throat came shooting out of his mouth like a missile and the convulsions stopped. Satisfied he was still breathing I rolled him over onto his big gut and snatched the wallet from his hip pocket. I flipped it open and checked the driver’s license displayed behind the little plastic window. The license identified him as William Delrose.

I looked at my new bar friend and asked, “Is he any relation to Abigail Delrose?”

“Yep, that would be her eldest son.”

I grimaced and then pointed at the smaller  of the two attackers. “And this one would be?”

“Her baby boy Alvin.”

“Oh shit,” was all I could think to say. Visions of my large retainer going the way of the wind raced through my mind. I heard a siren off in the distance and it was getting louder. I shot a look to my drinking buddy.

“That would be their daddy coming to the rescue,” he said.

“He’s a cop?”

“Worse, he’s the police chief.”

◆◆◆

I was shocked when the chief let me go and dragged his two boys from the bar, all the while giving them a real ass-chewing. The chief looked like an older version of his eldest son Billy, as he called him. The chief had a few more pounds on him and was sporting a mustache, but I could definitely see the family resemblance. Alvin on the other hand, looked like he might have been the postman’s kid. He didn’t look anything like his brother, mother, or father. When I told the chief my version of the scuffle he looked like he was ready to throw the cuffs on me. But it was when I mentioned I was working for his wife his attitude suddenly changed and he left without even asking what I was doing for the old girl.

I rejoined my new friend at the bar and ordered a couple of beers.

“The chief is either well preserved for his age or his wife has had a hard life,” I said.

“Yep, she’s got a couple of years on the chief,” he said.

“Years, it’s more like a couple of decades,” I replied and we both laughed.

“The name’s Leonard, Leonard McNaughton. Thanks for saving my ass from the Delrose boys. They sure didn’t like me talking to you about their family. I didn’t even know they were in here, but then they have a way of sneaking up on a person so watch your back.”

“No problem Leonard, and thanks for the warning about the Delrose boys. Are they going to be a problem for you now?”

“Naw, their daddy will keep them in line. Besides it ain’t the first time I’ve been in the crapper with them boys and I suspect it won’t be the last.”

“Leonard, let me ask you. Do you know where Abigail Delrose lives?”

“Yep, are you thinking about going out there?”

I nodded. “She hired me on a private matter and I have to ask her some more questions. If you’re worried about me running into her boys again, don’t worry. I can handle them.”

Leonard laughed. “You won’t have to worry about them out at their momma’s. They wouldn’t go within a mile of the place. But, if you’re determined to go just be careful. She lives in a big ol’ house out near Cypress Swamp. It’s kind of spooky and there is a lot of stories about the place, some of them true.

They say Miss Abigail’s momma pimped her out during the depression to make ends meet and young Abigail was quite popular with the local men folk of that time. That is until she gutted one of them like a fish. Story goes the old boy got mean and forced her to perform some sort of unnatural act. Her momma found her the next morning having breakfast just as calm as you please even though she was covered in blood. Abigail had carved the man up, starting with his privates and working her way up until she had damn near turned him inside out.

The john business kinda dried up after that until her momma sent Abigail out recruiting other girls to service the clients. Rumor has it some of those girls were from the society circles in neighboring counties. Eventually Abigail became the madam of the house when her momma passed. She turned it into a booming business. She stressed that all johns were to obey her strict rules concerning behavior. Those who didn’t are said to have ended up in Cypress Swamp feeding the fish. Mr. Love, we got some big fish in that swamp.”

I finished my beer and thanked Leonard for the local history lesson and warning.

2

FINDING ABIGAIL

F

inding Abigail and her Victorian mansion wasn’t as easy as I was led to believe. Leonard had neglected to tell me it was on a dirt road that seemed to be going nowhere. Then, when I finally found the place it was a bit more than just outside the city limits. Leonard had been right about one thing. The house was real close to the swamp. The front door faced the imposing expanse of water. I couldn’t help thinking about the bodies Leonard mentioned that may or may not have ended up somewhere in that black water. Between the large house, which must have been grand in its day, and the vastness of the swamp, it was easy to get the feeling one was on the set of a horror film. The storm that was brewing only added to the effect. Ominous thunderhead clouds filled the sky and there was the faint sound of rolling thunder in the distance. I could feel the moisture in the air. The road leading up to this house was going to be miserable to navigate when it became a mass of mud.

“Are you planning on standing out there until the lightning strikes you Mister Love?”

I turned and saw Abigail Delrose standing at the head of the stairs leading up to the veranda. It surprised me how frail she looked against the backdrop of the massive house. She certainly didn’t look like the scary woman who had invaded my office with her sour demeanor and wooden weapon of mass destruction. I approached her with more than a little apprehension.

“I had some questions for you Ms. Abigail.”

“I thought you might if you were going to do your job well,” she said with a hint of a smile.

“May I come up?”

“I see you Yankees aren’t totally devoid of manners Mr. Love. Please come up on the veranda and I’ll fetch us something to drink. We’ll talk while we watch the storm come in.”

I climbed the stairs, seated myself in a cushioned wicker chair, and gazed out over the still water of the swamp. Moss was hanging high up in the cypress. The sky was growing darker and the smell of ozone filled the air. Lightning was coming and in the back of my mind it foretold of trouble in my future.

The sound of a screen door slamming against its frame announced the return of my employer. She was carrying a small tray that held a couple glasses, a pitcher of iced tea, and a bottle of bourbon.

“I brought the tea in case you weren’t a bourbon man.”

I stood and took the tray from her and set it on the table between our chairs. She took the cane hooked over her left arm and used it to help settle herself in her chair.

“The bourbon is just fine with me,” I said.

She poured bourbon in both glasses and then raised hers to toast.

“Here’s to what I hope will be a mutually beneficial relationship Mr. Love.”

I lifted my glass in salute and we both sipped the amber, smoky tasting liquid.

“I’m told you met my husband and my boys,” she said.

“How may I ask did you hear about that already?”

“You will learn sir that I have eyes and ears everywhere in this town.”

“Apparently, but I want to make it clear that your boys attacked me first and I was just defending myself,” I said.

“My family is quite dysfunctional and you would be wise to avoid the rest of them. My boys are…different, but I love them and do my best to control them. My husband is the idiot cop I mentioned when we spoke in your office. He believes my granddaughter died from natural causes. I know that to be a load of crap.”

As if to emphasize her point, a bolt of jagged lightning lit the darkened sky and struck the surface of the swamp. A loud clap of thunder quickly followed. I gulped down the remaining bourbon in my glass and placed it on the table. Abigail filled it again and poured tea in hers.

“Magnificent isn’t it Mr. Love? Both beautiful and frightening at the same time. That’s what folks used to say about me. Now days they don’t say much at all if they know what’s good for them. My advice to you is if you want to know the truth about me you should ask me directly and not get your information from the town drunk.”

She watched for my reaction as she lifted her glass for another drink. The rain suddenly came in torrents, churning the surface of the swamp and bringing with it gusts of wind that made wind chimes dance to their own tinkling melody. The air that had been hot and humid was now cool and refreshing. I chose to ignore Abigail’s comment and instead took a deep breath and reveled in the sweet smell of clean air. When I looked at her again she was smiling.

“Why don’t you join me for dinner Mr. Love. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had company. I promise to answer all your questions and will delight you with stories both entertaining and shocking.”

“I’d be delighted Miss Abigail.”

I was warming up to the old gal and if everything went well I might be able to get enough information to help me figure out what happened to her granddaughter.

◆◆◆

Dinner was good, plain country fare prepared by Abigail’s cook of many years. We had fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, black-eyed peas, and collard greens accompanied by a bottle of sweet wine from a local vineyard. Dessert was an amazing peach cobbler and strong black coffee. By the time we moved to the parlor I was stuffed and feeling a bit sleepy, but Abigail handed me a glass of brandy that soon had me ready for story time. My hostess did not disappoint.

“My childhood Mr. Love was mostly happy while my daddy still lived in the house. In my ignorance I thought he was a salesman who made the rounds to neighboring towns selling farm goods. In reality he was a moonshiner making deliveries across the back roads throughout the county. It was on one of those runs his luck ran out. He was killed by revenuers who set a trap for him on a lonely stretch of road.”

Abigail paused to wipe tears from her eyes, then continued.

“He spotted the roadblock and spun the car around to backtrack. The feds opened fire on his car and the shine he was carrying exploded. He died that night not knowing it marked the beginning of a life of hell for his only daughter.

She took a drink of her tea and told me to help myself to more brandy.

My mother had been a loving parent, but the death of my daddy and the loss of our only income made things rough. She tried to make ends meet by doing whatever work she could find, but soon poverty and humiliation took its toll and my mother became a different woman. Men began coming to the house. Some I recognized from town and others were complete strangers. All of them would spend the night and leave by morning light.”

Abigail went on to correct some of the gossip about her family, but she had no qualms about verifying her momma did run a house of ill-repute.

“Momma used the money she earned from that business to go legit. She invested in real estate, buying up large chunks of land around Fayetteville. She also invested in banking and insurance. All of that made this family very rich Mr. Love. But, it was the whorehouse that gave us the power in this town. We know all the dirty little secrets of the movers and shakers whose various men folk visited momma’s ladies in the day.”

It was time for me to change the subject because I could see the memories were stirring up some old anger issues for Abigail.

“Ms. Abigail, what makes you so sure your granddaughter was murdered?”

“Anna use to visit with me all the time when she wasn’t in school. She would tell me about being a member of a research team and how exciting it was to be a part in helping patients recover. Then, after some time, she seemed to become somewhat depressed. I kept asking her what was wrong, but she just said her studies were making her tired. She said she wasn’t sleeping well and she was sure everything would be fine. That was when she started getting sick. Every time she visited she looked worse. Her color was pale and she had bags under her eyes.”

I interrupted Abigail, “How do you know she just didn’t pick up some bug from a patient? She did work in a big hospital.”

“Mr. Love, my granddaughter was devoted to me. We talked about everything, but I knew she was keeping something from me. So, on her last visit, I pressed her about it and that was when she told me there was something about the research they were doing just wasn’t right. That was the last time I saw her.”

Abigail stopped and began to sob. I waited and when she regained her composure she continued.

“They found my baby girl dead in her room Mr. Love. The autopsy could find no evidence as to why she died. There was no illness, and no sign of foul play. That is where you come in. I want you to investigate this research team she was involved with and find out who is responsible for her death.”

She began to sob again and I put my hand on her shoulder.

“Ms. Abigail, if there is something to find I will find it, rest assured.”

3

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

T

he drive to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill took about an hour and 30 minutes from Fayetteville. Since I had never been there I had no idea what to expect. The drive meandered over two and four lane roads through mostly country scenery. In my mind I thought, How big could it be if it’s in countryside like this.

Reality was a shock. What I found was a hospital campus made up of the Cancer Hospital, Neurosciences Hospital, Children’s Hospital, Women’s Hospital, and Memorial Hospital, all next to each other and linked by hallways and pedestrian skywalks. Then there are numerous clinics distributed throughout the neighboring towns. Thankfully my investigation would be focused on the Neuroscience Hospital since that was where Anna Delrose had been assigned.

As I turned onto Manning Drive I noticed a large banner strung across the street announcing that two of the university research doctors had been awarded Nobel Prizes for their work.

I parked in a large parking deck across the street from the hospitals and walked across the pedestrian skywalk to the entrance of the Cancer Hospital. Once inside I came across a Starbucks and decided to grab a coffee and a snack. There was a line of people in various forms of hospital garb from scrubs to white coats. There also were an assortment of civilians like myself, some of which had the dazed look that comes from spending an extended amount of time with loved-ones who are being treated for a staggering array of illnesses associated with cancer. Thankfully the line moved along quickly and I soon found myself standing in the courtyard looking for a place to sit and enjoy my morning bun and coffee. I spotted a table with a couple of young women in scrubs.

"May I join you?" I asked.

They smiled and one said, "Sure."

"It's a beautiful day to be outside," I said.

They both nodded in agreement.

"Where in this great big hospital complex do you two work?"

"We both work in Oncology," said the younger of the two. She pointed in the general direction of the Cancer Hospital. The older girl frowned slightly as if I might be of questionable character.

"Oh, where are my manners? We haven't been introduced and here I am interrogating you. It's an old habit. I'm a private investigator. My name is Frank Love."

Both of the girls smiled at the mention of my last name. It happens a lot. I smiled in return.

"With a name like Love it would be hard to be a shady character."

They laughed and then introduced themselves.

"My name's Cindi with an i," said the younger girl.

"I...see," was my reply as I pointed to my eye, and we all laughed.

"My name's Maria," said the older girl.

I began to sing a line to Maria from West Side Story.

"Maria, I just met a girl named Maria."

That brought even more laughter and suddenly we were all friends. We chatted about what they did in oncology, but they were most interested in what I did as a P.I.

I shared some of the more prurient stories of unfaithful spouses and the sometimes dangerous world of investigating organized crime. They were hooked and I knew they would be willing to share whatever information they had.

"You know, I'm actually up here from Fayetteville investigating a case, but I'm not sure who I need to see. It involves a student who was connected to the Psychology Department. As I understand it she was a student who was a member of a research team, but I don't know what team, or what the research was about."

"Do you know her name?" asked Cindi.

"Yes, her name was Anna Delrose."

I watched for any reaction to the name. There was none from either Cindi or Maria. Cindi lifted a laptop from a satchel next to her chair and set it on the table. She opened it and waited for it to boot. Then she typed in what I assumed was an address to a site for UNC and waited. Then she typed some more.

"That's strange," she said. "Anna Delrose's file has been blocked by the head of the department. According to this, that would be Dr. Leonora Pascal. I'm sorry Frank, but that's all the information I can get you without access to the file."

"That's quite all right Cindi. You both have been a big help and it's always good to make a couple more friends."

They both smiled as I rose to go.

"Hey Frank, we get off at seven. If you're still around do you want to meet us for a couple of drinks? We could show you around."

Cindi handed me a piece of paper on which she had written her cell number.

"Cindi, if I'm still here at seven I'd be honored to have drinks with a couple of cute ladies like you and Maria."

As I walked off I could hear them giggling.

4

WHAT'S UP DOC?

S

topping at an information desk I inquired where I might find Dr. Leonora Pascal. I was directed to the first floor of the Neurosciences Hospital.

Getting there was easy. Getting in to see the good doctor was another thing. I ran up against an over protective assistant.

"May I help you," said the assistant.

"Yes, my name is Frank Love. I'm a private investigator. I would like to speak with Dr. Pascal."

"May I ask what this is about?"

"No you may not. It's a private matter."

The glaring look she gave me said I had a snowball chance in hell of getting in to see the doctor. The assistant picked up the phone receiver on her desk and tapped a few numbers.

"Doctor Pascal, there is a private investigator here who wants to speak with you and he won't tell me what it's about. Yes, I'll tell him."

When she hung up the phone the assistant had a smug look on her face.

"I'm sorry, but the doctor said she is booked up at the moment, but if you would like to make an appointment she will be happy to see you."

"Fine, when is her next available appointment?"

The smug look turned into a shit-eating grin. She fiddled with her computer and said, "It appears her next available appointment is in two weeks. Would you like me to book you?"

I hesitated to answer to give myself time to keep my temper in check. I gazed past the assistant and saw a few photographs on the wall behind her. One of them was of Dr. Leonora Pascal. She was a surprisingly beautiful woman in a lab coat. Her name was on a plaque below the photo.

"No, that's quite all right. I can't wait two weeks. I'll make other arrangements."

I left the office and went to the Starbucks. I bought a large black coffee and a sandwich and then parked myself next to some potted plants in a seating area just outside of the Neurosciences entrance. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't have to wait too long.

One thing a cop or P.I. learns is to be patient. Surveillance is often a boring experience. As it was this wait ended shortly after five p.m. Doctor Pascal passed by talking to a man. They both were carrying briefcases and Dr. Pascal had a coat slung over her arm. I assumed she was heading to her car to go home, so I followed the two of them.

As we crossed the skywalk the male split off and entered a building. Doctor Pascal continued on to the parking deck. I saw her unlock a car and put her briefcase and coat in the car. I passed by and made note of the license plate number then hurried to the staircase. My car was one floor up in the structure. I sprinted up the stairs and ran to my car. I unlocked and started the car as quickly as I could.

My descent down to the next level was anything but safe, but I managed not to hit anyone or anything. When I reached the spot where Doctor Pascal’s car was parked the spot was empty. I continued down to the next level and the exit to the toll booths and I spotted the Doctor’s car two booths to my left. I cued up to the booth that had the shortest line. When it was my turn to pay I handed my ticket to the attendant who scanned it and said I owed five dollars. I paid with cash and when asked if I wanted a receipt said no then darted through when the barrier lifted.

My ploy worked because the doctor was just pulling past her toll booth. I let her car pass then I followed her out onto the street. Traffic was heavy but I managed to stay within a couple cars distance.

She drove through town traffic and ended up pulling into a  parking lot. I parked a few spaces from her so as to not draw attention to myself. I watched as she exited her car and I followed as she crossed the street and walked out onto Franklin street. We went less than half a block when she turned into an alley. I followed and saw a mural painted on the wall with an arrow pointing to a place called He’s Not Here. At the end of the alley was another mural pointing to the left also indicating a place called He’s Not Here. When I turned the corner I saw I had entered a courtyard that was a beer garden. There were picnic tables and to my right a small bar with taps to pour beer. It appeared to be a place frequented by university students and faculty. I watched the doctor approach a table were several students were seated, all of whom looked to have started drinking beer earlier. They all greeted the doctor and offered her beer. She nodded and took a seat.

I seated myself at a table next to the one where she was seated. The light was beginning to fade and the only illumination were strings of white Christmas type lights. A young male student gave the doctor her beer then bent and gave her a hug. She patted his hand and then peeled herself free of his embrace.

I took my mobile phone out and pretended to look at the phone screen I turned and took a photo of everyone at the table.

The place was so noisy I couldn’t hear the conversation so I drank the bar signature drink called a legendary Blue Cup which was 32 ounces of beer in a blue plastic cup for five dollars. As I drank I caught up on the bar history that included the fact that the top floor once housed a topless bar. As interesting as that sounded I had to focus on the good doctor and her friends.

As I was finishing my second Blue Cup I saw the doctor was leaving and had the young male student in tow.

I followed them out to Franklin Street and noticed the doctor was alone. It was then that the male student came out of the shadows and confronted me.

“Why are you following Doctor Pascal?”

“That would be none of your business sonny,” was my reply.

That was when the kid tried to Bogart me and I had to employ a defensive move that left him half sitting, have laying on the ground.

As I turned to see if the doctor was still around I was surprised to see she was standing directly behind me.

“I would like to know why you are following me? Or perhaps you would like to throw me to the ground also.”

I helped the young man to his feet and brushed him off a bit then explained myself.

“My name is Frank Love. I’m a private investigator. I’m investigating the death of a student in your department by the name of Anna Delrose.”

I noticed the male student reacted to the mention of her name and suddenly became very nervous. I turned my attention back to the doctor.

“I tried to speak with you at your office, but your assistant with the sparkling personality gave me the bum’s rush.”

“Okay, so you have me cornered. What is it that you want with me?”

“I simply wanted to ask you some questions about Anna Delrose, the young woman who died while working for you.”

“Fine, then perhaps we should go back into the garden and I’ll introduce you to the team that worked with her.”

“After you doctor.”

I followed her and her young protector back into the alley and to the beer garden. As we approached the table occupied by her students she introduced them as the research team that had worked with Anna Delrose.

“This gentleman is a private investigator looking into the death of Anna Delrose. He would like to ask you all a few questions.”

The looks I was getting from this group told me this wasn’t going to be easy. I bought a round of drinks hoping to put everyone at ease, or at the very least, loosen their tongues.

“What was Anna like,” I asked

One of the young women spoke up and blurted, “She was a little know-it-all who couldn’t seem to get behind our research. She thought she knew everything, and quite frankly was a big pain in the ass.”

The doctor spoke up and said, “Let’s try to remember she was a member of our team, and regardless of how you felt about her personally, she died way before her time.”

The others seemed to have been shamed into a quiet reflection. All except the young man who fancied himself as the doctor’s protector.

“I’m not sad the little bitch is dead. In fact I’m glad she’s gone because she was hindering our research.”

“David, get control of yourself. That is an awful thing to say,” said Doctor Pascal.

At that point young David seemed to be sufficiently chastised and went suddenly quiet. The other members of the group appeared to be even more nervous that before. It was obvious to me that there was something not quite right about this group, except for the Doctor who was obviously embarrassed by the attitude of her team.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Love I don’t know what got into them.”

“That’s okay Doctor Pascal. You were obviously on your way out when I stopped you. Please let me escort you to your car. It’s the least I can do for upsetting everyone.”

“That would be fine Mr. Love.”

“Please call me Frank,” I said.

“My friends call me Lee,” said Dr. Pascal.

David started to protest and the good doctor told him to stay with his friends and she would see them in the morning for rounds.

David looked as if he could kill me, but he relented and sat back down with the girls at the table.

I walked out of the beer garden and up the alley to Franklin Street with Lee and noted that her photograph didn’t do her justice. Actually she was quite attractive.

“Tragic this business about Anna. She was so young, and a very talented researcher. I will truly miss her on our team.”

As we approached her car I said, “I wish we had more time to talk about Anna, but I guess I better let you get on home.”

“Well, you could follow me to my place Frank and we could talk about her over a couple of drinks,” said Lee.

I smiled. “How do you know you can trust me Lee?”

She smiled and said, “You have kind eyes Frank, and besides you seem to be a bit of a bad boy. I like bad boys. If you play your cards right I may let you ravage me.”

Then she kissed me. When we finished teasing each other’s tongues I said, “And here I thought this was going to be a boring day. Do let me know when the ravaging is to take place I would hate to miss it.”

She smiled a wicked smile and got in her car and backed out of the space. Realizing I didn’t know her address I hurried to my car and sped out after her. Luckily we didn’t drive very far and turned up a road that ascended to what appeared to be a Tudor style home that I was sure would cost a pretty penny.

My headlights illuminated her gorgeous legs as she exited her car. I got out and she motioned for me to follow her.

“This way Frank. Welcome to my home.”

I watched her hips sway as she walked up the sidewalk to the front door. I suddenly felt dirty for the thoughts that were going through my mind, but I quickly put them aside.

When we made ourselves comfortable in the living room she fixed drinks and we discussed her research into the placebo effect in treating patients who experience pain after surgery, or in cases of the severe effects of chemo and radiation therapy for cancer patients. She explained that they were experiencing promising results in substituting the therapy for the strong, mind numbing drugs that have been used in the past.

I found myself being caught up in her enthusiasm in her work.

“The human mind has the ability to relieve pain or in some instances create great pleasure.”

The next thing I knew she was whispering in my ear the things she was going to do to me if I went upstairs with her. We kissed passionately and she told me the things that were happening to her body. I was becoming a huge fan of placebo therapy.

A gentleman never divulges details, but suffice it to say the events upstairs left my ability to walk the next day in serious jeopardy. I also picked up a couple of techniques I didn’t even know were humanly possible.

I awoke the next morning to find I was alone. I wandered into the bathroom off the bedroom and showered, then dressed.

Feeling shaky I went downstairs to the kitchen. I found a note thanking me for a wonderful evening, but she had to get to the hospital for rounds and didn’t want to wake me. She added that I should help myself to some coffee and please lock up when I leave.

I walked around the house drinking my coffee and observing personal mementos. I discovered that Lee was a woman who didn’t possess many items of a familial nature. She did however have an impressive collection of erotic objects of art.

Having determined that Lee was a woman I would like to know more about in the future I decided I better get back to the business of interviewing her research team.

I put my cup in her dishwasher and let myself out of her house making sure I locked the door. I began to walk to my car when my mobile phone rang. The display showed it was Abigail Delrose.

“Good morning Abigail,” was all I got to say before she started in on me.

“Mr. Love have you got anything to report to me? I did pay you a lot of money to find out what happened to my granddaughter.”

“Abigail, Mrs. Delrose, I have been hard at it, and in fact had an extensive interview last night with the doctor that was leading Anna’s research team. I’m going to speak to the students today.”

“I expect results Mr. Love.”

“I understand and as soon as I have anything concrete to report I will let you know.”

She ended the call and that was when something in my peripheral view caught my attention. I spun around in time to see it was young David from the research team and he was attempting to bash my brains in with something. I blocked his arm and the object glanced off my shoulder. I caught his arm as it continued down and gave it a quick yank throwing him off balance. He ended up on his back on the lawn. I picked up the object he was wielding and it turned out to be a length of pipe I assume he found somewhere on the property.

“Okay sparky, you want to tell me why you were trying to hit me with this pipe.”

The anger in his eyes as he spoke told me this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

“You bastard. You spent the night with Dr. Pascal. She’s mine and you need to back off.”

That’s when I bounced the end of the pipe off his stomach to get his attention.

“First of all junior I’m pretty sure Dr. Pascal would dispute your claim on her, and secondly, whether or not I spent the evening with her is none of your business. So I suggest you piss off before you really get hurt.”

I gave him another nudge with the pipe before I turned and went to my car.

◆◆◆

When I got to the hospital I went straight to the clinic and left messages for the students of the research team to call me. One by one the calls came in and I arranged to meet one of the girls in the hospital café for lunch and another for coffee in Starbucks later in the afternoon. The last girl was a bit more difficult and we finally agreed to meet in a local bar after she got off work.

My lunch meeting began kind of awkward, but after some manipulation on my part I got the young woman to talk about herself. It became clear to me that she didn’t seem to have an evil bone in her body and was more nervous about doing anything that may jeopardize her position on the team.

I discovered her name was Claire and she was from Iowa City, Iowa. She had transferred from the research university there to UNC Chapel Hill.

“Claire, let me ask you what you thought of Anna Delrose. Did you like her or was she a problem for the team?”

“Oh, I thought she was a sweet girl and I liked her enthusiasm for our project. She seemed quite knowledgeable and she helped me with aspects of the research I didn’t understand. I was so sad she passed away so young. I guess God had other plans for her.”

I’m not sure God had anything to do with the demise of young Anna Delrose.

“Was there anyone on the team that thought she wasn’t a team player?”

“Well there was David. But, he doesn’t seem to like anyone except Dr. Pascal. I’m pretty sure he has a crush on her. Oh, and then there is Ruth-Anne who would follow David to the ends of the earth and agrees with anything he says.”

I made mental note to delve into that relationship when I met with Ruth-Anne at the bar this evening.

“What about the other member of the team? What was her name?”

“That would be Cherie. She is a bit stand-offish and seems to go with whatever opinion is in the majority.”

“Do you think she liked Anna?”

“I don’t think she has an original thought in her head. She seems to me to be the type that rides the coattails of others. You know, those who will follow anyone who can help her succeed in life.”

“Thank you Claire. You’ve been a great help. Do you mind if I talk to you again if I have further questions?”

“No, not at all Mr. Love.”

“Frank, call me Frank.”

“Okay Frank.”

Next up was my meeting with Cherie at Starbucks. I waited inside the entrance for her to show and was beginning to think she would stand me up, but fifteen minutes past our agreed time she came through the automatic sliding doors.

Cherie was an attractive young black woman who drew attention from men as she passed their field of vision. My impression upon seeing her pass through the door was there was something wrong. She looked sick. Her eyes were sunken and her demeanor confused. She looked around as if lost and I rose to go to her.

“Cherie, are you okay? Is there something the matter?’

She was unsteady on her feet. I helped her out into the courtyard and sat her at a nearby table.

“Can I get you something?”

“Tea,” she said.

I bullied my way to the front of the line and got her tea. I grabbed a couple of packets of sugar and a canister of cream from the counter. When I got back to the table I saw her condition had worsened.

“Cherie, what’s happening?”

“Nocebo,” was all she said and then her head lolled to one side. I checked her pulse and to my horror she was dead.

After hours of talking to campus and Chapel Hill police about what happened and why I was meeting with Cherie I was tired and short tempered. I needed answers and I knew who I needed to speak to.

I arrived at Dr. Leonora Pascal’s home after dark and much to my surprise saw my attacker, David, outside her front door. When he saw me he fled. I must have put the fear of God in him during our last encounter.

I rang the doorbell and Leonora answered the door dressed in a nightgown that must have been designed to turn men to stone, because it was doing a good job on me.

“I’m sorry to call on you so late. Were you entertaining?”

She looked confused.

“I just saw young David fleeing the premises.”

“No, I had no idea he was even here,” she said. “Please come in Frank.”

Once inside the door she put her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. When finally we came up for air she said, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since last night.”

“I have to admit you’ve been on my mind too.”

“You look tired Frank. Is something the matter?”

I explained what happened to Cherie and Leonora truly looked shocked. We went into the living room and she fixed us drinks.

“Does the word Nocebo mean anything to you?”

“Yes, of course. The Nocebo Effect refers to the belief that negative thoughts can harm your health. You’ve heard of the placebo effect. It is what we are researching to help patients endure severe pain.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Well, the placebo effect has a shadow side. The same mind-body power can also harm someone. When patients are warned about the side-effects they may experience it if given certain drugs, approximately 25 percent of them experience side-effects while taking nothing more than sugar pills.”

“Could someone die from the Nocebo Effect?”

“I suppose so, if their belief was strong enough. You’ve heard of voodoo and believers becoming fatally ill.”

“Yes, of course. Were you and your researchers working with the nocebo effect?”

“Good heavens no. We want to relieve pain and suffering, not cause it.”

“Thanks, I appreciate your help.”

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

I kissed her passionately as I slipped one strap of her nightgown off her shoulder and soon the entire garment and my clothing were in a heap on the floor.

We clung to each other in a tight embrace and I was mesmerized by the heat and scent of her. My brain was on fire and I let all traces of the outside world drift away. All I cared about was discovering every inch of the woman in my arms.

5

 A WOMAN SCORNED

I

 arrived at the bar for my meeting with Ruth-Anne a bit early so I could assess the atmosphere of the place and the clientele. It was a typical non-descript bar favored by college students because the booze was cheap, the music loud, and patrons on the make. I was amused at the awkward flirting taking place. Pick up lines that to an older individual like myself sounded embarrassingly impossible were to the college age ear passable.

I caught sight of Ruth-Anne as she entered the bar. She stood just inside waiting for her  eyes to adjust to the dim light. She then scanned the room and saw me waving at her from my table at the back. I noted she was an attractive girl with more than her share of female attributes. In my day the boys would have said she was stacked. Several men in the bar turned to look at her as she passed. As she approached my table I stood and greeted her.

“Ruth-Anne, thank you for meeting with me.”

“No problem. When Dr. Pascal told me you were investigating the death of Anna Delrose I wanted to help.”

She was playing with her hair and obviously trying to flirt with me. I used that to get her to open up about Anna.

“What was your opinion of Anna Delrose? Was she a good researcher? Was she a team player?”

“Honestly Mr. Love. I thought she was only into the research to further her own agenda. Everything was about Anna and her perfect grades. She was constantly bumping heads with David, who in my opinion is an excellent team leader.”

“Did she have a problem with anyone else on the team?”

“Well, she really didn’t like me much, and the feeling was mutual. I guess it was because I defended David and his ideas.”

“what ideas would those be?

“Oh, just different aspects of our research. She was such a downer when it came to exploring all aspects of our research.”

“Would that include the Nocebo effect?’

The look on Ruth-Anne’s face spoke volumes. Her whole demeanor changed.

“What do you know of the Nocebo effect?”

“Just that it was the last word out of Cherie’s mouth before she died.”

Ruth-Anne became very quiet. When she finally spoke her voice was almost sinister in its tone.

“Mr. Love you need to refrain from sticking your nose into things you don’t understand. Our research, David’s research, surpasses anything Dr. Pascal has imagined. He is the real brain behind what could be a breakthrough in modern medicine.”

“It sounds to me Ruth-Anne like you may have more than a research interest in David.”

It was then that she shot me a look that said I was treading into dangerous territory.

I decided to take a shot in the dark and see what kind of response I could get from a direct accusation.

“So Ruth-Anne, who’s idea was it to use the Nocebo effect against Anna and Cherie? Was it you or David?”

I could see the rage building in her.

“Or maybe it was both of you in it together.”

Her response was explosive. She stood, grabbed her drink, and threw it in my face. The alcohol stung my eyes, but her words shocked me.

“You may think you’re safe because you’re fucking Dr. Pascal but let me tell you David will crush you in the end and your dear doctor won’t save you.”

She turned and stormed out of the bar leaving me wondering what she meant about Dr. Pascal not saving me, and from what?

I wiped my face and blinked trying to clear my eyesight. I then hurried to the exit hoping to corner Ruth-Anne before she could escape. Once outside I looked all around and couldn’t see a trace of her up or down the street.

I needed time to think things through and I didn’t want to be distracted by Leonora, so I booked a room at a local motel to develop a strategy.

◆◆◆

After a hot shower and a stiff drink I began to process what I knew. Two of the original research team were dead. Those deaths were tied to something called the Nocebo Effect. Of the two remaining team members only David seemed to be the prime suspect. Ruth-Anne was a follower and obviously obsessed with David. Which told me she would do pretty much anything he asked. Now the question was did he personally eliminate the two team members or did he coerce Ruth-Anne to do the deed? The other question on my mind was how exactly did the two victims die. I needed to get my hands on the autopsy reports and hope they would shed some light on cause of death.

Leonora was very helpful in obtaining the needed autopsies. We sat in her living room drinking a very good cabernet while going over the reports.

“Frank, I’m afraid there is nothing out of the ordinary in these reports. Both women died of natural causes. Cause of death in both cases is listed as heart failure.”

“That in itself is unusual. Two young women in good health dying from heart failure. Does the report mention what they last consumed?

“There is nothing on Anna Delrose, but Cherie had consumed a fair amount of wine. Does that tell you anything?” asked Lee.

“No not really. This whole thing is frustrating. I need to talk to David again, but he’s avoiding me lately. Do you think you can get him here say tomorrow evening? He has the hots for you and I’m sure he’ll show up if you ask him.”

Lee had the kind of smile on her face that told me it was going to cost me.

“Okay, what’s it going to take to get you to get that little shit here tomorrow?”

Lee stood and began to remove her clothes. She was taking her sweet time about it, but I wasn’t exactly complaining. Just looking at her nakedness made me forget all about the case. I was thinking about all the ways I could give her pleasure and how much I would enjoy each. This was going to be a long night.

When I woke the next morning it was with a smile remembering the passion that consumed us both. As before, I was alone. I could smell the essence of her on the sheets and it made me wish she was still there to pick up where we left off.

I padded off to take a shower and get dressed. There was hot coffee waiting for me in the kitchen along with a note containing a heart and the words, “Loved it.”

As I drank my coffee I walked through her living room again and noted the absence of family photos. I couldn’t help but feel she led a solitary life. It seemed sad to me that there wasn’t a past to invoke fond memories. When this was all over and done with I would have to ask her about her past life.

6

A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE

I

t has been said that a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. So far in this investigation it has been a lack of knowledge on my part that has proven to be dangerous. There are now two members of the research team who are dead and I have been unable to discover what killed them other than the mysterious Nocebo Effect. It’s time for me to do some digging into just how this effect works.

I returned to my hotel room after retrieving my laptop and a bottle of Jack Daniels from the trunk of my car. Of those two items, the Jack seemed to be more useful than the computer.

I read entry, after entry of Google searches about the Nocebo Effect only to make my brain hurt. The Jack eased the pain.

Each article said basically the same thing about how negative thoughts can make a person sick, but there was nothing to suggest they could kill someone. Then in my alcohol induced stupor my eyes ran across a small  piece comparing Nocebo Effect to the practice of voodoo.

Under the right circumstance a person who believes in voodoo could be given a harmless placebo and be made to believe they had consumed something deadly. That had to be the connection in the deaths of the two researchers. The autopsy report on Cherie said she had consumed wine before her death, but there was nothing about what Anna may have consumed.

I placed a call to Lee to see if she could find anything that Anna may have consumed prior to her death. I got her voicemail and left a message asking her to check Anna’s autopsy report again.

I had no sooner hung up and my phone rang. It was Abigail Delrose and she wasn’t a happy camper.

“Mr. Love, I’m getting impatient with the pace of your investigation. Have you found anything that leads to the person or persons who killed my granddaughter?”

“I have not, but I’m getting close. I have a theory that I’m trying to prove which may explain Anna’s death.”

“I don’t care about theories Mr. Love. I want names. Who is responsible for Anna’s death.”

With that Abigail ended our call.

◆◆◆

The phone ringing matched the ringing in my head from consuming an entire bottle of Jack during the night. I fumbled around and found my cell phone. The I.D. showed it was Dr. Pascal.

“Lee, hi. Did you find the information I was looking for?”

“Frank I need you to stop this investigation. Anna Delrose died from natural causes and you should just accept the findings and tell your client there is nothing sinister going on in our research.” With that she hung up.

What the hell was going on? Why the sudden change in Lee’s attitude? She sounded frightened. Maybe that weasel David got to her.

It was time to meet with David again whether he wanted to see me or not. Finding him was another thing. He wasn’t hanging out at any of his usual haunts so it was going to take a bit of old fashioned surveillance.

The long wait outside the lab was made tolerable by strong black coffee from Starbucks and watching the students coming and going along the main concourse. They passed as if they didn’t have a care in the world, totally oblivious to the fact there was a killer or killers amongst them.

I watched from one of the seating alcoves in the concourse using some of the well placed plants as cover. I was so caught up in my thoughts about the case I almost missed David when he finally appeared through the door to the psychology lab.

He walked right past me and I rose and followed him. We walked out of the hospital, down the street, and then turned toward town. I kept him within view, but far enough behind so he wouldn't notice me if he turned around. When we reached Franklin Street David suddenly disappeared. Maybe I gave him too much of a lead. I quickened my pace and as I approached an alley I heard a familiar voice.

"Why are you following me Mr. Love?"

The little shit had made me, but he also played into my hand. I stepped into the alley and got up close in his space.

"I know you and your little research team killed Anna Delrose. I want to know why."

He just smiled at me with that smug little smile that made me want to use my fist to perform some dental work on his perfect teeth.

"You have no proof we did anything to dear, sweet, Anna."

I grabbed him by the throat and pressed him up against the grungy brick wall. I watched as his face went from red to a lovely shade of blue, then I eased up on the pressure.

"You're going to tell me what happened to Anna or I'm going to end you right here in this alley and you'll be just another sad crime statistic. Am I making myself clear?"

He nodded and I released him. After he coughed and massaged his neck a bit he finally spoke.

"Yeah, I'll tell you what happened to Anna. The bitch was part of a research we were doing off the books into the Nocebo effect, but she got cold feet. She didn't want to besmirch her squeaky clean reputation and decided she was going to go to Lee about what we were doing."

"She was going to tell Dr. Pascal about your little secret?"

David laughed. "You really aren't very smart are you Mr. Love. Lee was aware of what we were doing all along. Who do you think was protecting us? You think just because she was fucking you she will collaborate your story. You have no proof of anything P.I. man"

I restrained my urge to punch him at that moment.

"How did you kill Anna and Cherie? There was no evidence of any foreign substance in their systems."

"Oh that was easy. We convinced Anna over time that she didn't look well. When she started to show symptoms of failing health we told her we poisoned her and there was no cure. We kept close to her so she couldn't seek help. To our surprise she just up and died. With Cherie it was a lot quicker because her weak mind had no problem believing we poisoned her wine to keep her from talking to you. Rumor has it she died right in front of you Mr. Love."

He smiled that smile and I no longer had a desire to restrain myself. I punched David right in that smug face of his and watched as he slumped to the ground. I left that alley not caring whether I had done serious damage to another human being, because as far as I was concerned he wasn't human.

◆◆◆

I made several attempts to contact Lee before I left town and it became obvious she was avoiding me. The drive back to Fayetteville gave me a lot of time to think. The only thing I could do was give Abigail the information I had and let her work with the authorities to get some sort of justice for Anna.

I was surprised by how calmly she took the news. She thanked me for getting to the truth and told me I had earned my retainer.

7

PRIME SUSPECT

I

 was enjoying my Sunday morning. The large retainer I earned not only let me get the air conditioning fixed in my office, but also allowed me to set myself up in a nice loft apartment nearby.

I was sitting on the sofa drinking coffee and reading the Sunday paper and thinking what I would do with the rest of my day. I was toying with the idea of making a trip to Chapel Hill to visit Leonora when a small article in the newspaper caught my attention.

“Chapel Hill police are investigating the disappearance of two students and a Psychologist, all members of a research team belonging to the psychology department at UNC hospitals.”

I spilled coffee on myself trying to rise off the sofa. As I scrambled to clean up the mess, take a shower, and get dressed, all I could think of was that it couldn’t be true. I had to go see Abigail Delrose. I had to know that she wasn’t involved in the disappearances.

The drive to Abigail’s place was miserable. The weather had turned ugly. Rain was pouring down and the unpaved road to her house was slick and muddy. When I finally arrived it was to find that she wasn’t home. Her car was gone and no one answered the door when I knocked. I returned to my car and sat thinking as I gazed off over the swamp.

Could it be that the four missing persons were somewhere out in that swamp joining God knows how many others that met their end in that black water.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t hear the car that drove up. It wasn’t until I heard a car door slam that I turned and saw Abigail Delrose climbing the stairs to her veranda. She wasn’t alone. Right behind her was the hulking form of her husband the police chief. When they were under cover of the veranda they both tuned to look in the direction of my car.

I exited my car and shouted to be heard over the pounding rain.

“Abigail, tell me you didn’t have anything to do with the disappearance of the people from Chapel Hill.”

She pointed her cane at me and said, “Mr. Love you need to get back in your car and drive away. Our business is concluded. I hired you to find out what happened to my granddaughter and you did.”

Then in a menacing  voice she added, “I suggest you let the whole matter drop. Your involvement in this case could make you a prime suspect.”

She then turned and entered the house. The chief gave me a mean look and pointed down the road.

I climbed back in my car and started the engine. I suddenly felt chilled. I turned the heater on and maneuvered the car around in the muddy drive. I had no proof that Abigail was involved in the disappearances. Who would believe me? Who was going to take the word of a Yankee over one of their own?

The last thing I saw in my mirror as I drove away was a bolt of lightning striking a cypress in the swamp. I shivered.