Page 24

CHAPTER 24

Our next stop was to Dr. Beetle’s shop on River Street. Although I preferred to start making a list of potential criminals who’d want to hurt me, Maddie convinced me it was more important to talk to Dr. Beetle first.

The air was crisp and fresh today, the sky a solid blue. I tipped my head back and breathed it in, feeling the sun’s rays on my face as they sent a rush of energy through me.

When we arrived, the door to Beetle’s shop was locked. I checked the schedule hanging in the window. From Monday through Sunday, it was the same: If I be hera, we be open.”

And she didn’t seem to be “hera.” I knew how appearances could be deceiving when it came to our favorite hoodoo woman. As could expectations. So, we pounded on the windows and door and called her name.

“Shop been closed for a while now. Oh, say maybe a week or so.”

We turned to see a short, elderly man looking up at us, his skin like buffalo leather, dark and wrinkly.

“Oh,” I said. “Hello. Is that typical of Miss Beetle?”

“Dr. Beetle,” he corrected. “No, no, not typical at all. She always here, ’cept for now.”

I glanced at the sign, then at Maddie, who said, “Thanks for letting us know. Is she sick or just taking a vacation maybe?”

“Oh, no, no, never takes the vacation. She sick, yes.”

“We’re old friends,” I said. “Do you know where we can find her?”

“The darkness made her sick. And it’s still hera, you see. It ain’t leaved.” He was looking past us now, one of those faraway looks in his rheumy eyes. Then he snapped to and pointed a crooked finger at me. “D’ya feel it?”

I didn’t know how to respond.

Something in my eyes must have given me away because he wagged his finger, adding, “Ya do.”

“What are you taking about?”

He turned to Maddie. “Take yo friend and go before the darkness get you too.”

Before we could say another word, he wobbled away, leaving me with a series of unanswered questions.

“Should we go after him?” I asked Maddie.

“No way. I mean, the man was spooked. Are you okay?”

I jerked back my chin. “I’m fine.”

She inspected me. “No darkness or whatever he was talking about?”

“The only darkness around here is that we’re getting nowhere. Someone in this place must know something.”

I began to walk—with purpose—back the way we’d come.

Maddie shuffled up next to me. “What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet … I’m looking.”

We passed all the usual shops and restaurants along River Street until I reached what used to be the Happy Beatnik, a place that was key to our Savannah case years ago. It was now called Shaggy Shack—basically another version of the same thing. A place to hang out, drink kombucha and the like, eat healthy snacks, and relax. I didn’t see anything about poetry readings, which was a big draw for the Happy Beatnik back in the day.

“Maybe someone in here knows something or even remembers us,” I said, opening the door.

The bell at the top of the door chimed, and though it was a soft, delicate sound, it was enough to announce our entrance to patrons and staffers. All eyes turned in our direction.

I acted like I didn’t notice and instead looked at Maddie, who was smiling and waving to no one in particular.

“Hi, y’all,” she said.

I was surprised at the number of people who smiled and waved back. Maddie had that “thing.” It was charming, to be sure, and had helped move my investigations along in the past.

I let my gaze flow around the shop, focusing on décor as much as the people. The shop had changed, not just in name, but also in style. It now was all neutrals and pastels, and the cloud-like seating matched the vibe. All floofy and poofy with mounds of those squishy stuffies scattered everywhere.

“I don’t recognize a soul,” I whispered.

“Me either,” she agreed. “But come on. Someone has to know something about a fellow River Street shop owner.”

She led the way toward a young woman about to step out from behind the counter. She wore an apron and had a tray of drinks in her hand.

The woman blew a stray hair out of her eyes and looked our way. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. Well, maybe,” Maddie began.

I cut in with, “Do you know anything about Dr. Beetle down the street? We heard her shop has been closed for a week or so, and there’s no information as to what’s going on.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You friends of hers?”

“We sure are,” Maddie replied.

“Well, I don’t know much, but I’ll tell you what little I know. Yes, she closed her shop, and I’m not sure she’ll open it again. I see her often—I’m always working, she’s always working—and then the last time I saw her, she was frazzled out. It was just after that nice drag-queen man got …” She made a stabbing motion toward her heart a few times. “I’m guessing it’s related to him.”

“How do you know?” Maddie asked. “Were they good friends?”

“I’m not sure. I feel like they were at least acquaintances, because after his murder, she kept saying, “I done tried to warn him, dat Grady.” She imitated Dr. Beetle’s walk and accent to a tee. “That’s why I’m sure the two things are related. Him dying and her closing the shop.”

“She said she tried to warn him ?” I asked, wanting to clarify.

“Hey, that’s all I know. It could be nothing. I gotta get back to work.”

She glanced over her shoulder to find what I presumed was her boss glaring our way.

“Didn’t mean to get you in trouble,” I said in a low voice. “We appreciate your help.”

Without another word, she hurried to a table at the back.

“Thanks for explaining the ingredients to that … sandwich! No peanuts for me! Toodles!” Maddie shouted at the server’s back. Her comment, though false, let the bossman know our conversation had been Shaggy Shack-related, even though it hadn’t been.

The girl didn’t turn around, but she did shake her head.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said, pulling Maddie along.

We exited the shop and bumped right into the old man we’d met before, and I got the impression he’d been waiting for us. He handed me a business card with a handwritten address on one side.

“Whose address?” I asked.

“I don’t got time to feed you all da answers.”

He shook his head and walked away, chuckling to himself.

Maddie plucked the card from my fingers. “I’d bet my Louboutins this is where we can find Dr. Beetle.”

If she was right, the information he’d just given us was huge. I pulled out my phone and started poking at the screen. “Let’s see … GPS says it’s not that far from here.” I looked up. “What do you think? Too intrusive to just go up to her house when she’s not feeling well?”

Nudging me in the shoulder, she said, “Who are you and what have you done with Sloane? Let’s go.”