GODDESS OF THE MOON (A Diana Racine Psychic Suspense)
Polly Iyer
This book is a work of fiction. All names of characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination, including some geographical references. I hope no one is offended by the liberties I’ve taken under artistic license. Any resemblance to persons either living or dead is purely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
Cover design by Polly Iyer
Goddess of the Moon
Copyright © 2012 by Polly Iyer
ASIN: B009Y3OAG4
Table of Contents
Chapter One
The Snatch
Chapter Two
The Call
Chapter Three
The Bassinet
Chapter Four
Clarity in All the Confusion
Chapter Five
The Star and the Crescent Moon
Chapter Six
The Offering
Chapter Seven
Into the Mythological Realm
Chapter Eight
A Magnetic Attraction
Chapter Nine
The Pink Room in the Pink House
Chapter Ten
The Devil’s Room
Chapter Eleven
A Mixture of Purity and Evil
Chapter Twelve
Transformation
Chapter Thirteen
A Truth Stranger than Fiction
Chapter Fourteen
The Descent into Hell
Chapter Fifteen
Hacker Extraordinaire
Chapter Sixteen
The Invitation
Chapter Seventeen
A Question of Genes
Chapter Eighteen
Ascent from Hell
Chapter Nineteen
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Chapter Twenty
Back into the Lion’s Den
Chapter Twenty-one
A Game of One-Upmanship
Chapter Twenty-two
Break Up or Make Up
Chapter Twenty-three
The Never Retractable Word
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Dreams Become Reality
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Age of Defiance
Chapter Twenty-Five
A Little Twist of the Knife
Chapter Twenty-Six
A Tangled Web
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hidden Meaning
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Irresistible Magnetism
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gods and Goddesses
Chapter Thirty
Temptation
Chapter Thirty-One
The Agenda
Chapter Thirty-Two
A Tearful Reunion
Chapter Thirty-Three
An Unthinkable Conclusion
Chapter Thirty-Four
A Little Background Music
Chapter Thirty-Five
The Seed of a Plan
Chapter Thirty-Six
Who’s Watching the Children?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Night of the Crescent Moon
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Fear, the Consequence of Truth
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Return to the Comfort Zone
Chapter Forty
To Act the Part
Chapter Forty-One
Into the Lioness’s Den
Chapter Forty-Two
Who’s the Boss?
Chapter Forty-Three
A Rude Awakening
Chapter Forty-Four
The Disciple
Chapter Forty-Five
Chameleon
Chapter Forty-Six
A Pie in the Eye
Chapter Forty-Seven
The Truth Will Set You Free
Chapter Forty-Eight
Breaking the Weak Link
Chapter Forty-Nine
Welcome to Paradise
Chapter Fifty
Last Try, Do or Die
Chapter Fifty-One
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Chapter Fifty-Two
The Ticket to Ride
Chapter Fifty-Three
Beat the Dawn
Chapter Fifty-Four
Silent Confession
Chapter Fifty-Five
Escape
Chapter Fifty-Six
The Long-Awaited Reading
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Amid the Confusion
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Introspection
Chapter One
The Snatch
Kidnapping babies used to be easier. He’d check the charts to be sure he had the right baby and wait for the perfect moment. Then a snip of the plastic bracelet, slide the baby into the satchel in the cleaning cart, and out the employees’ door. No one paid attention to a hospital janitor.
Now, impossible-to-remove bar coding and electronic devices on the babies ignited a firestorm of alarms that rivaled warnings of an enemy attack on the homeland.
He’d been careful breaking into the houses. One reported kidnapping wasn’t even his. The propitious theft kept the police from determining a pattern.
After the mother and child left the hospital, he’d watched the house for days, safely out of sight. This evening, the parents had shown off the infant to their guests, then put her down in the nursery. He saw no activity at the house next door.
Another perfect moment.
Bushes hid the low window. He donned latex gloves, pushed up the screen, and inserted a pry bar into the sliver between the window sash and the outer sill on the right, then on the left. Alternating sides, he pried upward until he’d exerted enough force to break the latch. He raised the window and hoisted himself inside.
The little treasure slept soundly, making those sweet baby noises he loved. He plucked a small plastic bag from the padded satchel slung over his shoulder, unzipped it, and extracted a square of gauze soaked with sweet wine. He touched it to the baby’s lips, and she drew on her natural instincts to suck. Not too much, he cautioned himself―just enough to act as an anesthesia, a technique rabbis used during a Jewish boy’s circumcision. He gingerly placed her inside the satchel and cooed, “Sleep, beautiful one.”
So far so good.
As if he were carrying a package of fine porcelain, he carefully let himself out the window, closing it and the screen after he hit the ground.
And he was gone.
Chapter Two
The Call
Diana Racine spent three weeks bronzing in the South Texas sun without one vision of a dead body or potential victim. Today, lying on a chaise with the ocean sounds as background music, she opened one eye, then the other, and settled her gaze on Ernie Lucier. He sat under the patio umbrella reading, his caramel-colored skin safe from the sun’s rays. He caught her looking, and his smile crinkled the corners of his gold-flecked hazel eyes.
“This has been the best vacation ever,” she said. “Do we have to go home tomorrow?”
“Some people have to work.” He rose and was halfway to her when his cell rang. “Damn. I’d forgotten what that nasty thing sounded like.” With an apologetic shrug, he returned to his seat and answered.
Diana watched a vee of brown pelicans soar above the palm trees fluttering in the warm breeze off the ocean. She pried herself from her chair and lazily strolled to nestle in Lucier’s lap, hoping to distract him from whatever the disruptive call had in store.
“What, Sam? I didn’t hear you.” Then, sotto voce, Lucier said, “Diana, hold on. Something’s happened.” He raised his voice, switching the phone to
her side of his head so she could listen. “Did you say a baby’s been kidnapped?”
Diana pressed her ear next to Lucier’s. On the other end, Detective Sam Beecher reported that someone had kidnapped a newborn from a New Orleans home by climbing in the nursery window while the parents were entertaining guests.
“Anything to go on?” Lucier asked.
“Nothing,” Beecher said. “No prints other than footprints outside the window, but CSU says nothing unusual in the shoe.”
“Where was the baby?” Diana asked, moving into Lucier’s phone.
“In a bassinet,” Beecher said. “We dusted for prints, but nothing. The kidnapper wore gloves.”
“Don’t let anyone else near it until I get there,” Diana said. “The fewer hands messing up the vibes the better.”
Lucier signed off with a promise to return to New Orleans as soon as possible. He rubbed Diana’s neck. “Are you sure you want to get back into the psychic business so soon?”
“Darling, I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. One more time isn’t going to send me over the edge. Now, let’s pack and get an early plane back. We’ve no time to lose. You know as well as I that every minute counts in a kidnapping.”
“That I do.” He pulled her close. “I never wanted this vacation to end, but what do they say about all good things?”
“Settled then.” She planted a kiss on his lips and within ten minutes had folded all their belongings into two suitcases while he made plane reservations.
Was it too soon? They’d spent the last three weeks at an oceanfront house on South Padre Island. Sun, salt water, and a man’s loving attention did wonders to erase the memory of the serial killer who almost made her his last victim. Tanned and relaxed, she felt almost normal.
But in the eyes of the world, Diana Racine wasn’t normal. Not since, as a six-year old, her telepathic gifts led police to the body of a missing child. Remembering that day and the many that followed sent a familiar icy shiver through her. Entertaining the crowds that filled venues all over the world had saved her sanity. Even so, she’d never be considered normal―except in the eyes of New Orleans police lieutenant Ernie Lucier.
Yeah, she was ready.
Lucier stuck his head in the bedroom door. “Gotta go. It’s over twenty miles to the airport, and our plane leaves in an hour and a half.”
“Wow, that was fast. I hope we don’t hit any traffic.”
“No other flights till morning. Beecher and Cash will meet us at the airport. Beecher said he’d drive my car so I can look over the police report on the way.” He zipped their suitcases and carried them out to the car.
Diana made a quick run-through of the house. She always forgot something hanging behind the bathroom door or tucked in a drawer, but not this time. Heading for the door, she ran into Lucier.
“One minute.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I love you.”
“Me too. You, I mean.”
“And you’re a great lay.”
Her laugh echoed through the house and accompanied them to the rental car parked in the driveway.
Chapter Three
The Bassinet
“Welcome back, boss,” Beecher said when they exited the secure area of the airport.
“Thanks.” Lucier wanted to say it was good to be back, but then he thought of Diana next to him in bed, her lithe, bikini-clad figure on the beach, and he couldn’t get the words out.
“Detective Beecher,” Diana said formally.
“Ms. Racine,” he countered with a sly grin.
“Will you two stop it?” Lucier said.
Diana soft-punched Beecher in the arm. “Hi, Sam.”
“Diana. You’re looking well.” Beecher led them to the baggage claim. “Cash is parked in a marked car outside the entrance. He’ll drive your car and we’ll follow him to the Seaver house.” He said to Diana, “That’s the family name of the kidnapped baby. I brought what we have for you to read on the way, Lieutenant.”
“Excellent,” Lucier said. After picking up their luggage, they headed to the waiting car.
“Glad you’re back, Lieutenant,” Detective Willy Cash said. “You too, Ms. Racine.”
“Nice to be back.” Diana shot a glance at Lucier. “Kind of,” she mumbled.
The lustful look Diana had on her face bumped up Lucier’s heart rate, and he squeezed her knee. When they got to his car, he tossed Cash his keys, and Beecher got in the driver’s seat. Lucier turned his attention to the report while the two cars headed to the Seaver house, situated in a quiet Metairie suburb.
“The mother put the baby in the bassinet,” Beecher said. “Then when she and her husband went to check on her a couple of hours later, she was gone. The window had been pried open. Mrs. Seaver is under sedation. Mr. Seaver is expecting us. All CSU found were the parents’ prints and the footprints outside the window. Agent Stallings is working with us on the case.”
“Ralph’s a good man,” Lucier said. ”Does the captain know about Diana?”
“Yup. He thinks it’s fine as long as we keep her name quiet. If the public finds out Diana’s on the case, all hell will break loose. Jake Griffin will be on her tail, pen in hand, salivating for a story.”
“Heaven help us,” Diana said. “Besides, you all know I may get absolutely no reading. And don’t say a word about looking for an out, okay, Sam?”
“I wasn’t gonna say a thing. I’m over that. Saw for myself you’re no phony. Took me awhile, but I’m a believer.”
“Good. That’s what I need. A believer.”
”Any idea how this guy zeroed in on the baby?” Lucier asked.
“Dunno,” Beecher answered. “The Seavers took the baby home from the hospital’s birthing center yesterday morning. They can’t think of anyone who’d want to harm them.”
“Any of the Seaver neighbors report anything unusual?”
“Nope, and we made a thorough canvass.”
“Someone from the hospital?”
“Could be. We have the hospital tapes from the last few days. Halloran’s checking them now to see if anyone looks suspicious.”
“Good work.” Still, with all the visitors and employees in and out of the hospital, finding the right person was like extracting a specific drop of water from the ocean. He studied the report until Beecher stopped the car in the driveway of the Seaver residence.
Mr. Seaver answered the door before anyone chimed their presence. “I didn’t want the bell to disturb my wife. She’s terribly distraught, as I am. Come in.”
“Lieutenant Ernie Lucier, Mr. Seaver.” They shook hands and Lucier introduced both Beecher and Cash, saving Diana for last.
“I’ve seen you perform,” Mr. Seaver said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I only hope I can be of help.”
“Yes, well…let me show you the nursery.”
Lucier squeezed Diana’s hand. He figured she was worried about not sensing anything that would help find the Seaver baby. She glanced his way and offered a quick smile. Everyone stepped away as she circled the bassinet. Lifting the crumpled blanket, she studied for a moment, closed her eyes, then stood still. An unearthly silence filled the small room.
Lucier had seen her do this many times before, but whenever she slipped into the trancelike state, she seemed like someone else and not the woman he loved. The invasive effects varied each time―shallow breathing, shaking, REM flutters, even fainting or rest mode, as she euphemistically called it. The enervation that followed each foray into her otherworldly life upset him more than it did her.
Today, Diana’s eyes pinched closed. Lucier and Beecher exchanged shrugs but made no move to disrupt her concentration. She stood motionless for almost four minutes.
Opening her eyes, she let out a long, slow breath. “This is strange.”
“What?” Lucier asked.
She draped the blanket over the railing, looking confused. “I felt the baby. She�
�s alive, I’m sure, and not being harmed, but I sensed the presence of other babies. I heard them.”
Mr. Seaver let out a strangled sigh. Tears filled his eyes. “I’m sorry. This is very emotional for me.”
“I understand,” Lucier said. “Anything else, Diana?”
Her gaze shifted from Lucier to Beecher to Mr. Seaver and back to Lucier. “She’s in a pleasant place. Warm, with sun shining in. Another nursery, I think. The room was painted pink with high ceilings and crown molding, characteristic of an old Victorian house.”
She started to say something else but stopped. Something she didn’t want to say in front of the baby’s father? Walking to the window, she touched the sill.
“Are you sure my daughter is okay?” Mr. Seaver asked.
She turned to face him. “Some people don’t believe in what I do, Mr. Seaver, and though I don’t want to give you false hope, I’d stake my reputation that your daughter is alive and being well taken care of.”
He stifled a sob, and this time the tears slid from the corners of his eyes. “Thank you.” To Lucier, he said, “Find the man who took our baby, Lieutenant. Find him and lock him away forever.”
* * * * *
On their way back to the station, Lucier asked Diana what she didn’t say at the house.
“What I saw―the room―there was an aura of danger. The baby feels safe, but she’s not.”
“In what way?” Beecher asked.
“I don’t know.” Diana wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “Those babies are in an atmosphere of evil.”
Lucier didn’t like to show overt affection toward Diana in front of his men, but this time he didn’t care. He pulled her close because she shivered in the fear she just described. “Did you see anyone with her?”
“No, I told you everything I saw.”
“Get Stallings on the phone, Sam. Ask him if the stats in this case match any other incidents. The feds do it better and faster. I don’t recall any baby kidnappings in New Orleans, but there might be a pattern. First, let’s verify if we’re dealing with a single episode.”
They drove into the parking lot of the French Quarter Police Department. “Someone targeted that baby,” Lucier said. “I assume you have a list of patients and visitors during the time she was in the hospital?”