Chapter 1
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Chapter 3

 

Lloyd dreamed that night that he was in San Diego.  Denman's Fish Depot was crowded with laughing tourists and Celia was alive and smiling.  He held her in his arms on the deck overlooking the bay.  She pushed her face into his chest.  He smelled her hair; inhaled her Giorgio perfume.  As they embraced her body temperature began to get hotter and hotter.  Lloyd held on tight.   The flesh of his arms bubbled and blistered and the heat burned his neck and torso.  Celia's skin glowed white hot and she burst into flame but Lloyd wouldn’t let go.

 

In the morning Lloyd entered the hotel lobby and walked towards the garage.  He was going to go down to the Miami Port Authority and start to do some investigation.

 

"Mr. Den-man.  Excuse me, Mr. Denman?"

 

An attractive light skinned black girl whose nametag read 'Helena' clacked across the lobby in high heels to where Lloyd was standing.  She had a business size envelope in her hand.

 

"Mr. Denman, a young lady left this for you at the desk this morning," said Helena with a brilliant smile.  She handed him the envelope.

 

"Did she give you a name?" Lloyd asked with one eyebrow raised.

 

"No, I'm sorry Mr. Denman, she just said to make sure this got to you today."

 

"Thank you very much, and by the way, it's Lloyd, Mr. Denman was my father," Lloyd said returning the smile.

 

"Okay mister, um, Lloyd.  I'm Helena."

 

She reached out a smooth, elegant hand the color of caramel.  Her nails were done in light blue acrylic nail polish.  Lloyd took her hand and shook it lightly.

 

"What did she look like, Helena?  The girl who gave you this?" asked Lloyd.

 

"She was very attractive.  A brunette, wearing dark glasses and a scarf on her head.  Is she a friend?" asked Helena coyly.

 

"Yes, well, let's just say she used to be," Lloyd answered, " she's a, uh, ghost from my past."

 

"I know all about ghosts.  My grandmother, she is a very wise woman about such things.  She was raised in Haiti.  My grandfather was a Houngan before he passed away."

 

"A Houngan?" asked Lloyd.

 

"You know, Voodoo.  A holy man of the islands," said Helena. She smiled again and patted Lloyd's arm. 

 

"My grandmother knows some amazing things about spirits and otherwise.  Now I must get back to work.  It was very nice to meet you Lloyd."

 

"Likewise Helena.  Listen, I don't want to sound too forward, but I may want to talk to you more at some point and hear more about your grandmother and grandfather.  Would that be okay?" Lloyd asked.

 

"Yes, of course Lloyd.  I work Tuesday through Sunday at the front desk.  Just come and see me or dial zero."

 

Helena blushed, turned and walked back to the front desk.  Lloyd admired her muscular long legs, calves nicely outlined in white stockings as she walked across the marble in her four-inch heels.

 

Lloyd walked into the garage and climbed into his Lincoln.  He slit one side of the envelope with his car key and blew into it.  He turned the envelope upside down and a flyer fell out into his hand.  It read:

 

20% off all purchases over $100!!!

International Grocery Cash Market.  205 West Bay Drive, Miami

 

The flyer was crudely printed on an orange piece of paper.  There was a clipart picture of a belly dancer between two bags of groceries.  Lloyd wondered what it meant.  He started the Lincoln and pulled out a map of Miami from his glove compartment. 

 

He knew one thing.  Wherever this was taking him he would find Otto.

 

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