“No, but—”

“But?” she asked, wanting to like him, but exasperated.

“I knew your father, Katie.”

“Okay...”

“Your dad was gifted.”

“Yes, he was extremely gifted, wonderful, brave, gracious and kind. I adored my father. I’m grateful to hear you found him the same.”

“I believe you might be gifted, too.”

“I like to believe that I’m a decent human being, so, um, thanks.”

His easy smile deepened. “Gifted. You talk to the dead, Katie. Your dad did, too.”

“I’ve already made a pile of the books I think you might find relevant. Another agent is down at the archives, seeing if there might be anything missed in the old public records.”

Dan wasn’t an easily startled person, but the voice that spoke to him as he strolled down the nonfiction aisle at the Garden District Book Shop still seemed to come out of nowhere.

Except he knew the voice.

It was Axel Tiger, an old friend from Florida, who currently worked with an elite unit of the FBI. Because he was originally from South Florida, Axel had often been called down on strange cases in the state.

Axel’s special unit was known for investigating the most bizarre cases. When he was with the FDLE, Dan had heard them jokingly called the ghostbusters, since they seemed to get any case that had any hint of the otherworldly about it.

He glanced at his watch—it was almost five in the afternoon, and he shouldn’t have been surprised. Crime scene, police station, cemetery and bookstore. But had Axel just been in New Orleans? Or had they gotten a call at their Northern Virginia offices already?

“You’re here on the murders discovered this morning?” Dan asked, staring at him. “Already?”

“Already,” Axel said.

His friend and occasional former coworker stood looking at him with a shrug. “I know you believe the murders in Florida and here had to be related. Naturally, Feds follow events like this that have crossed state lines.”

“How the hell did you get here so damned quick?” Dan demanded.

“Our fearless leader is down here, too. He can order the jet whenever he chooses.”

“Jackson Crow is here?” Dan asked. He’d worked with Axel’s field director in the past, too.

But Axel shook his head. “The big cheese is here. Seems a friend of his was killed years ago, in a similar brutal manner, out on a boat—”

“Louis Delaney.”

“Yes, the man’s name was Louis Delaney. They had met at a charity function sponsored by military vets and became friends. Anyway, Adam has been haunted by that case for years. He sent an agent down to Florida when the murders occurred in Orlando, and now... Well, we’re here.”