“What kind of hexes did you hear she was doling out?”
“Nothing really dangerous. It was mostly revenge spells and the like. I think there were a few love potions in there. I find those distasteful, but I got the feeling she needed the money so I didn’t hold it against her. She had medical bills to pay. It was a rotten time for the hotel to fire her.”
“Definitely,” Ofelia agreed. “Any other spells?”
“Just those, but I honestly didn’t dig too deep. I think part of me didn’t want to know.”
“Fair enough. One more question, though. Do you know where she was finding her clients?”
“Actually, I do, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Ofelia steeled herself. “She wasn’t going through Pascal, was she?” That was her initial assumption and it turned out to be wrong.
“Not Pascal. She was going to that place on Frenchman Street. You know the one I’m talking about, right?”
The hair on the back of Ofelia’s neck stood up at mention of the store in question. “Nexus?”
“That would be the one.”
She internally sighed. “Ugh. Why did it have to be that place? I hate going to that place.”
Amusement flitted through Scott’s eyes. “Maybe it’s Henrietta’s last little joke on you. She would’ve gotten a kick out of you traveling to that part of town to avenge her murder.”
“Apparently Henrietta would’ve gotten a kick out of just about everything I’ve done over the past few days.”
“She had a twisted sense of humor. You can’t get around that.”
“Definitely not.”
FRENCHMAN STREET WAS A HAVEN for locals. Bourbon Street and Jackson Square called to the tourists, kitschy shops and theme drinks on every corner. The entire area was geared toward appealing to the tourist population.
Frenchman Street was something else entirely. When the locals wanted to drink, they went there. When they wanted to shop for dark magic items, that was also a necessary destination. For Ofelia, the bars and restaurants were a legitimate draw. The magic shops, however, were something to be avoided.
Nexus was one of those shops. It was owned by a woman named Dora Landry. She was in her eighties and everyone called her “Grandma,” a word that Ofelia struggled to wrap her tongue around. She tried to avoid Grandma at all costs, but it didn’t appear as if she was going to be that lucky this go-around.
“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” Grandma spoke with a thick Cajun drawl. Unlike some of the others in the Quarter looking to make a fast buck, her accent was real. “I thought you forgot where to find me.”
Ofelia’s magical ability was famous in certain circles. Grandma ran one of those circles. There was no sense even pretending to deny what she was in this location. At least here she didn’t have to worry about tourists overhearing. They stuck to the magic shops closer to Bourbon Street, which was a good thing because the magic peddled there was strictly of the pedestrian variety. That was by design.
“I could never forget you.” Ofelia flashed a rueful smile as she regarded the woman, taking a moment to pin the two younger women in the corner with a warning look. They were acolytes of Grandma and looked as if they were ready to insert themselves into the conversation. That was the last thing Ofelia wanted. “I need some information.” She decided to get right to the heart of matters as she sat.
“You always need information when you come here,” Grandma noted. “It’s disheartening because, occasionally, I would like you to offer some magic in payment. You never do that, though.”
“I don’t believe magic should be offered in payment and I’m never going to change my mind on that.”
Grandma’s gaze was speculative, but she ultimately shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “What do you want?”
“Information on Henrietta.”
Grandma didn’t as much as blink. She was a master at shuttering her reactions and that was on full display now. “I heard she was killed. That’s a tragic thing. It has nothing to do with me, though.”
“I’m not trying to pin you with her death,” Ofelia reassured her. “I don’t happen to believe you’re guilty.”
“Of course I’m not guilty. It’s nice to know that you came to the same realization yourself, though. There have been times in the past when you’ve assumed I was up to no good ... and that’s hurtful.”
It took everything Ofelia had not to roll her eyes. Grandma was full of it. Most people didn’t recognize that about her. Ofelia wasn’t the type to bow down simply because an individual had power, though. That’s not how she operated.
“There’s no payoff for you,” Ofelia countered. “You’re not above killing someone, but it has to be worth it for you to expend the energy and open yourself to police attention. Henrietta wasn’t important enough for you to expend that energy.”
“No, she wasn’t,” Grandma agreed, opting not to react to Ofelia’s harsh words. “If you understand that, why are you even here? It seems to me you should be looking closer to Jackson Square if you’re looking for a culprit.”
“And why is that?”
“Because she was killed very close to Jackson Square and that’s where she was spending all of her time these days.”
“Not all of her time.” Ofelia’s jab was pointed. “Word on the street is that she was spending some time here, hustling customers and doling out hexes for money. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Grandma’s gaze darkened and Ofelia had to fight the urge to shudder. “Who told you that?”
Grandma was a powerful witch, but Ofelia could block with the best of them. Even though the older woman tried to invade her mind to find an answer, it was easy enough to lock her out. “It doesn’t matter and you’re not going to find answers poking around in my head, so don’t even try. It’s rude if you’re not invited, and you most definitely haven’t been invited.”
“Ugh.” Grandma let loose a grunt as she readjusted on her chair. “I should’ve known you would sense that. You’re not like those idiots.” She vaguely gestured toward the women in the corner. “They couldn’t detect it if a cable car was driving through their brains. You, however, know if there’s even a little tickle. You always were good.”
“I am good,” Ofelia agreed. “You should’ve known better. That’s neither here nor there, though. I’m here about Henrietta. Nothing more.”
“I don’t know what to tell you about Henrietta.” Grandma averted her gaze. “I had very little to do with the woman. I knew her by reputation only.”
“That’s a lie.” Ofelia was at her limit with Grandma’s antics. She wanted answers and escape. She hated hanging around the store. It always left her with an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach when she visited. “Just tell me what Henrietta was doing for you and I’ll be on my way.”
“I already told you that she wasn’t doing nothing.”
“And I know that’s not true.” Ofelia couldn’t keep the frustration from taking over her tone. “She was hexing people for money. Love potions, revenge potions, you name it. I believe she was getting her customers through your store, which means you were claiming a share of the action.”
“Hexing for money is against the rules.”
“And you’ve never met a rule you didn’t want to break. I don’t even care about that ... other than the fact that I believe she hexed a man to death for money. That’s the only hex I care about.”
Grandma furrowed her spark-plug eyebrows. “She wasn’t hexing anyone to death. Whoever told you that is lying.”
“But she was hexing people from this location ... and with permission from you. There’s no sense in denying it. I already know the truth.”
“Fine.” Grandma’s eyes flashed with impatience and she threw her hands into the air. “She might’ve been doing a little hexing for coin. They weren’t big spells and she needed the money. She was sick.”
“Not any longer, she wasn’t. She�
�d been cured ... and recently.”
This time Grandma’s frown was deep and pronounced. “No, she was terminal.”
“She was ... and then she wasn’t. I need to know who hired her to hex the young man who died next to my bar, because that’s where all of this is stemming from.”
“No.” Grandma shook her head, firm. “She wouldn’t have done that. It’s against the rules.”
“So is selling revenge hexes. I don’t think she cared.”
“But ... no.” Grandma refused to believe what Ofelia was telling her. “She wouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, she did. That’s not up for debate. I want to know if you have a client list for her.”
Grandma balked. “There’s no way I can get that for you. We promise anonymity here. Besides, I wouldn’t have allowed Henrietta to perform a death curse and I saw every proposal that crossed her way. There was nothing like that.”
“Yes, but maybe one of her customers went for the small hex first and then approached her separately for the big hex. It’s possible.”
“No. She couldn’t have hid that from me.”
“But she did.”
“She didn’t!” Grandma’s eyes flashed with malice and Ofelia sensed she’d overstepped her bounds. “This is my store, my turf. I know what happens here and for you to suggest otherwise is insulting. Henrietta didn’t get no contract for a death curse out of my store. It’s impossible.”
Ofelia wanted to press harder, but she recognized the warning signs and took a step back, raising her hands in capitulation. “Fine. If that’s your stance, there’s nothing I can do about it. Just know that the police are going to be down here asking questions.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A promise. This is bigger than our little corner of the world. It’s not going to end until the truth comes out. You can’t run from this.”
“Get out of my store.”
“Fine. I won’t be the only one stopping by, though.”
“I’m not afraid of the cops. I never have been and I never will be.”
“I just wanted to make you aware.”
“You’ve done that. Now, go.”
Because there was nothing else to do, that’s exactly what Ofelia did.
Fifteen
Sully selected one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. It was a small diner, a good eight blocks off the main drag, and it had delicious gumbo.
Ofelia was feeling mildly dejected when she joined him in a booth.
“What’s with the face?” Sully teased, amused despite himself at her expression. She looked as if she’d lost her best friend. “Are you that unhappy to be having lunch with me?”
“It’s not that.” Morose, Ofelia scratched her cheek and stared blankly at the menu he shoved in her direction. “I lost Kim.”
“I know. You texted me.”
“Yeah, but ... I lost her.” Sadness wafted off of her, to the point where Sully was uncomfortable.
“Let’s not get worked up for no reason,” he suggested. “You did the best you could. Nobody blames you for losing her.”
“I blame me.”
“Why?”
“Because ... because ... .” She couldn’t decide which answer she wanted to unleash so she merely sputtered.
“Because you tend to be the sort of person who takes things on yourself whether it’s warranted or not,” Sully finished. “I get it. That’s who you are. You’re punishing yourself for something you have zero control over, though. You couldn’t have known she was going to flee that way.”
“That’s just the point.” Ofelia kicked back in the booth and stretched out her legs, her cheeks momentarily flushing with mortification when her calves brushed against his. He didn’t pull back. His expression never shifted. The booth was tighter than she was used to and she found she didn’t want to move her legs when they brushed against his a second time. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.
“What’s the point?” he prodded gently. “I get that you want to flog yourself, but I’m truly at a loss here. I don’t get why you’re so upset.”
“Because I didn’t even realize she knew I was following her. I thought I had the upper hand. Clearly I didn’t.”
Sully rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the statement. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
She did, laying it all out. When she was finished, he was thoughtful.
“Are you sure she didn’t even look at you?” he asked finally.
She bobbed her head. “Yeah. That’s what lulled me into a false sense of security. She didn’t look at me even once. I was convinced she had no idea I even existed.”
“And then she disappeared the second you were distracted,” he mused. “I don’t think that can be a coincidence.”
“No, and I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s in New Orleans. She knew where she was going.”
“The Quarter isn’t that hard to navigate.”
“Without checking a GPS or phone once just to make sure?” Ofelia was understandably dubious. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. At all. Most tourists would check three or four times to make certain they were going in the right direction. And, while we’re at it, why was she going on a cemetery tour in the first place? That seems morbid.”
“I can’t disagree with you there. It’s explainable, though. It’s possible they already had the tickets and she didn’t want to waste hers.”
“I hate to break it to you, but if the guy I supposedly cared about enough to go on a vacation with died there’s no way I would be going on any sort of tour, let alone a cemetery tour.”
“No, I agree with you there.”
They took a break long enough to order their lunch, Sully opting for the gumbo and Ofelia settling on a salad because she was still feeling uneasy after her cemetery romp. When the waitress disappeared, Sully’s gaze was disapproving.
“A salad isn’t lunch,” he noted. “You should get something more filling.”
“My stomach feels ... blah.” She made a face. “I can’t help being angry at myself for losing her. I know you think I’m being ridiculous but that’s how I feel.”
“Well ... that’s stupid.” Sully was matter-of-fact. “There’s no way you could’ve known she was going to pull that. There’s no reason to blame yourself.”
“I’m pretty sure you would be blaming yourself in the same situation.”
“Not even remotely.” He was calm as he sipped his iced tea and then sighed. “I found out a few things, too. It seems Kim isn’t quite as dedicated to Brett as she pretended. In fact, she has a bit of a reputation for going after lawyers.” He launched into his tale, leaving nothing out. When he was finished, he grabbed a roll from the basket at the center of the table and broke it in half, offering Ofelia a portion.
Absently she took it from him and shoved the entire thing in her mouth, methodically chewing as she ran the information through her head.
“It sounds to me like the women didn’t like her at all,” she said once she swallowed. “What about the men?”
“I only talked to Stuart because it seemed unnecessary to wake Peter and his girlfriend at that time. He never said either way how he felt about Kim. He said the relationship between Brett and Kim built relatively quickly and that was unusual for him.”
“How was it unusual?”
“He was the type who would think things out from beginning to end before even embarking on one date with someone. He never reacted on emotion.”
“Basically you’re saying that he never let his hormones be his guide,” Ofelia teased, grinning when she caught Sully’s steady gaze.
Something unsaid passed between them at mention of hormones, the air crackling as they both shifted to get comfortable.
“Anyway, they insinuated that Brett has been acting out of sorts since he started dating Kim, but nobody said anything because he was something of a fifth wheel on group dates before that.”
“Hmm.”
Ofelia rubbed her forehead, her mind busy. “They’re from Chicago, right?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know of any magical pipeline between Chicago and New Orleans.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Sully admitted. “Is there a magical pipeline between New Orleans and other cities?”
“Actually, there is. There are magical hubs in the United States. Actually there are hubs all over the world. In the United States, New Orleans, Santa Fe, Salem, Charleston, San Francisco, Tucson, Colorado Springs ... and so on, are all considered magical hubs. Chicago really is not.”
“You seem to know a lot about magical hubs.”
“I do my research.”
His smirk was flirty. “Basically you’re saying you’re a nerd.”
Ofelia didn’t hesitate before answering. “If you like.”
“I like nerds,” he teased, winking before turning serious. “You think Kim is a witch, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I think we’re dealing with another witch. Whether it’s Kim or someone she knows, though, I can’t say. If Kim is a witch, why not just take Brett out herself? Why tap Henrietta to do it?”
“To be fair, we don’t know that Henrietta is the reason Brett is dead.”
“What other option is there?” Ofelia was calm as she laid it out. “He smelled like hexes. That’s the reason I got involved in the first place. That’s an impossible scent to ignore.”
“I didn’t smell anything on his body.”
“You’re not a witch.”
“I can smell you.” He refused to let it go. “Whatever you’ve got going, you smell like cloves and anise. It’s ridiculous how good you smell.” He hadn’t meant to say the second part out loud and was appropriately mortified. “I mean ... it’s an interesting smell.”
Her cheeks, which had been flashing hot and cold since she sat down, burned so hot she felt as if a small sun had suddenly materialized directly in front of her. “Well, I’m just saying that I recognize the scent of a hex. His body was permeating with that particular smell.
The Hexorcist Page 14
