Page 25

CHAPTER 25

We found the house, a small, fenced-in cottage. It had been there a long, long time, as evidence by the state of the dwelling. Falling shutters, blackened, curling roofing shingles, and a front porch that tilted to the left all reminded me that home was where the heart was—and not necessarily what it looked like.

As with her little shop, tidiness was not one of Dr. Beetle’s strong suits. Trinkets and potted plants, both dead and alive, and even an old bicycle, were strewn across the weed-filled property.

I opened the wrought-iron gate, which groaned in protest.

“Well, well, well,” came from inside, and the screen door whapped open. “I knew youse be comin’.”

She waved us in.

I entered the cottage with my mouth agape. A quick glance at Maddie told me she was feeling it too—the strange energy hanging in the air, the way the house seemed to breathe with something old and unseen. It was like we’d stepped into another world.

The home was made up of just three rooms—the main room with a kitchenette tucked into the corner, and what I presumed were doors to a bedroom and a bathroom. The walls were covered head to toe with antiques: tapestries, paintings, sconces with candles, and masks of all kinds. A few animal bones and skulls were scattered across tables … and more candles everywhere. Lamps of all sizes with low wattage bulbs added to the mysterious ambience.

Scattered about was a familiar sight: the crossroads symbol. Embroidered in pillows, drawn in sand laid out on a plate, hanging from the walls. Not a cross. But a crossroads.

The symbolism wasn’t lost on me.

The furniture looked hand-carved and was worn from wear, lots of reds and blacks and yellows in the seat cushions and pillows. Smoke curled out of incense burners, leaving the room with a powerful mixture of scents.

As freaky as it seemed, though, it was also cozy.

Dr. Beetle to a tee.

“Sit, sit,” the old gal said, shuffling around the room, clearing off the couch and a couple of chairs. I took the sofa, sinking in so deep I wondered if I would ever get back out again. Maddie slid into a wooden chair. Dr. Beetle stood, swaying on her feet.

On the table in front of us was a familiar sight: mojo bags and all kinds of goodies to go inside, depending on the result one wished to evoke. I’d kept the one she’d given me years ago, and thinking about those times made me smile. We’d made a difference that day. We’d hunted down evil and snuffed it out.

But it never stayed out for long.

“Looks like you’ve been working,” I said, gesturing at the table.

“Always workin’,” she said, chuckling. But then her face turned grim. “Not sure bout it all anyhow. You hear what all happen to our Grady mon, yes? I could no stop it. I could no. My powers, dey fail me.”

“What do you know, Dr. Beetle?” Maddie asked. “I’m guessing you’re aware we’ve been led down here by some weirdo?—”

“I know why yo hera,” she said, then began to cough.

I tried to get up from the couch, but kept falling back down, the springs jabbing my butt cheeks. “Water, Maddie. Get her some water.”

And then the coughing stopped.

“Don’ need no watah. Whatchu wanna know?”

“You don’t already know?” I said, and thought maybe I’d let my sarcasm get the best of me.

“We heard you sensed something was going to happen to Grady, and you tried to warn him,” Maddie said. “But you couldn’t stop it, and now you think you’ve lost your mojo. And you’re hiding out here, because you can’t face the thought that everything you’ve believed in and lived for may now be gone.”

The blank expression on Dr. Beetle’s face was frightening. Like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard, and she wasn’t happy about it. Some long, uncomfortable seconds passed, and then she waddled over to Maddie and patted her shoulder, offering her a small smile.

“No, girl. This bad mon, as you say … he comin to hurt her .” And the old woman swung around, pointing a chubby finger straight at me. “Through the Grady mon, he hurt her .”

Another jab in my direction.

Maddie and I froze, our eyes wide and locked on each other. Beetle had just verified my worst fears. My career flashed before my eyes, one criminal after another, one victim after another, and all the people on the periphery. So many people.

I now understood what Maddie was getting at. The woman’s attempt to save someone had failed. All her skills were of zero consequence in the face of this particular evil. Was the same true for me?

“He be hera now, in da city, and dat’s why you came. He done made you come hera.”

The doctor placed her head in her hands and groaned. Maybe it was a chant. It lasted for a long time, and she swayed as she wailed.

I felt dizzy, like the house itself was shaking, and I grabbed the old couch cushions, my spine as straight as the furniture would allow. Then I launched myself off the couch, brushing myself off. “Dr. Beetle, how did you try to help Grady?”

A hush fell over the space. Dr. Beetle peered through her fingers at me.

“Tell me everything you know, everything you … you feel,” I said. “I can stop this man, but only with your help now. We can do it. We can do it again .”

Beetle pressed her lips together and nodded. She leaned against a large table, which was smackdab in the middle of the room, for support. “We can do dis, yes.”

“What happened?”

“I feel the shadows comin, you know how I do. And for whatever da reason, you came to my mind, and dat’s when I felt da connection tween him and you. But you weren’t in da city, not close ’t all, so I tryna tink about all the reasons he wanna come hera when you not hera. That case, o’ course. That was it, I knew. And I tink of Miss Andi and all da kids and … and Mister Grady. I kept tinking about Mister Grady.”

“Okay …” I said.

Although it shocked me, I found myself believing every word that was coming out of her mouth. People had instincts, people had gifts … I had them too. How could I deny this woman’s experience was real? Further, how could I deny how her instincts so closely represented my reality? I was the target, but this jerk wanted to punish me—for what, I didn’t know. And he was doing it through those I cared about.

“Please, go on,” I said.

“I think bout the one dat got put away fo his crimes, the human traffic man who done got kilt in prison. Hugh Barnes. And dat’s when I know.” She tapped the side of her head. “Dis one who come fo you now, he’s angry at you, girl. For what happened to his life. For what happened to his friend, dat Barnes.”

My eyes shot wide open. “He’s friends with Hugh Barnes?”

“Are you saying this guy is a human trafficker too?” Maddie blurted out.

The old woman bobbed her head left to right. “Mmm, not so sure. Maybe not all da way. Maybe back in da day. Not sure bout dat. But he is a killah!”

The force of her words unsettled me, and I pushed back the urge to shudder. “So, this man was going to hurt me through Grady. And you sensed it. How did you try to warn Grady?”

Her crooked finger found me once more as she said, “I left a note.”