The intensive-care waiting room was empty save for a woman who stood looking out the window. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her shoulders bowed. She looked up as I approached, blinking at me with quiet fatigue. Her white blond hair was layered just over her ears, and her short, blunt bangs framed light blue eyes very similar to the ones that had haunted my dreams for the past two nights.
“Mrs. Taite?” I asked.
She looked surprised. “Yes.” Her voice was high and soft. “Do I know you?”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the low ache from my arm that reached all the way up my neck now. “My name is Katie Lightfoot. I’m one of the owners of the Honeybee Bakery.”
Dawn’s mother looked blank.
“Your daughter collapsed there,” I said gently.
Her expression cleared. “Oh. Right.” Then she frowned. “So, you’re her friend?”
“I’m afraid I only met her briefly before she fell ill.”
“It’s very nice of you to visit her,” she said. Her voice rasped at the edges, but her eyes were dry. She turned to the window again, watching the breeze blow the United States and the Georgia state flag on the pole outside the hospital toward the east.
“Is she any better?” I asked.
“No,” she said simply. “I don’t understand what happened to her. We’d fallen out of touch lately. She left school, you see. She was studying sociology. Only had one semester to go.” She paused.
I remained silent. Mrs. Taite wasn’t talking to me in particular. She just needed to talk to someone, and I was there.
A few beats later, she continued. “She told me she wanted to work with her uncle. Franklin. My husband’s brother.”
My ears perked up.
“He was a bit of a black sheep, but Dawn likes black sheep. That’s probably why sociology interested her. She was interested in outsiders, as she put it. Puts it, I mean.” She stole a glance at me.
I offered an encouraging smile. She turned back to the window and rubbed her hand over her face.
“Dawn’s father died in an accident when she was a teenager. We were never close with Franklin after that, and I was surprised when Dawn told me he’d come to see her on campus. He’d apparently left the police department—he was a detective, you see. But he threw that away the same way Dawn threw away her education. He went off to be some kind of private eye, and asked my daughter to quit school and work for him. What kind of man would do that to his own family? Of course, Dawn insisted Franklin was more than a private eye, but when I asked for more details, she refused to tell me.” Her head tipped to the side. “We fought. Mothers and daughters always fight, of course, and we were no exception, but this fight was different.” She backed away from the window and went to sit in one of the cool-colored chairs lined up against the wall. “She hasn’t spoken to me for months. Now her uncle is dead and something happened to her, and I don’t know what.” Tears in her voice now. “I don’t know how to help her.”
I walked over and sat beside her. “I’m sorry.”
A long silence, then: “Thank you.”
“Do you think I could see her?” I asked.
She rose. “I’ll ask the staff.”
Less than two minutes later, I was gazing down at Dawn, while Mrs. Taite took a break to get something to eat. Her thin frame was hardly discernible under the sheet and thin blanket. Machines sighed and bleeped around the bed, and an IV drip was taped to her arm. A strand of her scraggly dishwater-blond hair had fallen over one eye. Gently, I brushed it back with my fingertip.
“I found the voodoo queen,” I said in a quiet voice, so the nurse across the room wouldn’t hear me. “She’s in this same hospital. Her name is Eulora, and your uncle knew her well.” Her heart beat in waves across the monitor. “I’ll find the gris gris. I’ll figure out some way to help you.”
With one last look, I turned and left.
* * *
I rounded the corner into the emergency room. Declan stood talking with an orderly, his expression urgent. Lucy and Ben sat side by side, and Mimsey had made the trip, as well. And wouldn’t you know it? Steve Dawes was right there in the mix, off to the side and well away from Declan. My aunt’s tone and gestures were animated as she described something to Mimsey. She raised her hands in the air, then saw me and stopped midsentence. An instant later, my aunt was on her feet and running to me.
“Katie! Sweetie, what happened? Are you okay? Oh, my heavens, you’re really hurt. Look at that shoulder. What did the doctors say? I wanted—”
“Lucy! I’m fine.” I struggled not to grit my teeth against the pain and slowly lowered myself onto a chair.
Steve watched me in silence. I could feel him gauging whether I was telling the truth.
Declan had turned at her words, and now hurried over. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you. I was about to have the hospital put out a BOLO for you.”
“I went to see Eulora.” I felt tears threaten, and hung my head. “I feel so awful about what happened. If I hadn’t barged into her life and started asking questions, she wouldn’t be here—she’d be nice and safe at home. And now she doesn’t even have a home. It’s completely gone. I put her in terrible danger.”
“She was already in danger,” Mimsey said. “Lucille here was just telling me about Mother Eulora, and the truth was that she was involved with Franklin Taite. He’s dead now. Do you think you’re responsible for that, too, Katie?”
Slowly, I shook my head.
“Well, then, how could you think you’re in any way responsible for the fire at Mother Eulora’s?”
Because I’m a catalyst.
But that just sounded egotistical. So I said, “Because I’ve been asking too many questions, and that made someone angry. Because I know Franklin was murdered, and I’m going to find out who did it—and why.” The rush of words made me feel better. I’d been called to find the truth, and, by the goddess, I was going to do it.
Never mind that I had no idea what to do next.
Declan put his hand under my chin and tipped it up, looking into my eyes with a professional air. “I found out where Eulora was and went to find you. You’d already left the cardiac unit. Did you get lost?”
“No. I visited Dawn Taite,” I said.
Silence greeted that announcement. Finally, he said, “Yeah. I guess you’d want to check in on her as long as you’re here.”
“She’s in intensive care still, but they let me in. Her mother asked them to. I could tell she’s been here with Dawn more or less nonstop since she got into town.” I sighed. “But she has no idea what might have happened to her daughter—or to Franklin.”
A sharp pain emanated from the increasingly vivid ache in my arm. I pulled the pain pills out of my pocket and removed two from the blister pack. “Could you grab me some water?”
Ben jumped to his feet before Declan could respond. “Back in a jiff,” he said, and hurried to the cooler.
“Who’s minding the Honeybee?” I asked.
Lucy said, “Iris is, honey. She’ll be fine. Annette next door said she’d come over and help out if there’s a big rush. And she has our cell numbers.”
Ben returned and handed me a paper cup of water. I washed down the pills and sat back in my chair. “Golly. You guys didn’t all need to come.”
I caught Steve’s eye. The corners of his lips turned up a fraction, and he finally spoke. “I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay.”
Declan glowered. “I have that covered, Dawes.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
“Jaida and Bianca will be here soon unless I call them back,” Mimsey said. “And I left a message for Cookie with Oscar.” She tsked. “We’re family, Katie. We stick with our own.”
“Would you mind calling them?” I asked. “I’m ready to head home, and I don’t want them to make the trip for nothing.” I stood.
Mimsey nodded and fished out her phone. “Of course, darlin’. You need a nap more than anything else.”
The door whooshed open, and Samantha Hatfield swept into the emergency room like Sandra Dee onto a movie set. She wore a crisp cotton circle skirt in eye-searing vermillion, a white short-sleeved blouse, and white canvas sneakers. Her shiny, flaxen hair was held back from her face with a wide headband the same color as the skirt. She took in the waiting room and us with it before fixing her attention on me. Her eyes got big, and she hurried over.
“Katie! Goodness’ sake, are you all right, girl? I just couldn’t believe it when Steve called and told me what happened.”
Steve rose and walked over to put his arm around her shoulders. I dared a glance at Declan. Hostility rolled off him in waves, though I was surprised to see that his eyes were narrowed at Samantha rather than Steve.
“I’m fine,” I said again, hoping the dry tone of my voice would be attributed to smoke inhalation. “How did you find out about the fire?” I asked Steve.
He shrugged. “You know. The usual.”
Samantha’s lips thinned, but then she quickly laughed. “The usual! I declare!” Ms. I Suddenly Seem to Think My Name Is Scarlett eyed my bandage. “You’re not entirely fine, I see.” Was that satisfaction in her words? Steve didn’t seem to hear it, but I saw Mimsey’s sharp gaze as she watched Samantha.
The hydrocodone was beginning to kick in. I struggled to rally. “Samantha, this is Mimsey Carmichael, and this is my boyfriend, Declan McCarthy.”
“Mimsey! What an adorable name!” Her accent had deepened. “I’m so very pleased to meet you!”
“Enchanted,” Mimsey said with a gracious smile and shook her hand. But I knew that look. Steve’s girlfriend wasn’t pulling the wool over that witch’s eyes.
“And, Declan. My, you are a handsome one.” Her hand popped out again.
He took it with a dazed look. “Nice to meet you,” he said.
Her other hand rose so that she was holding his hand in both of hers. Steve looked on with an expression of mild indulgence. Was he faking it? Because maybe the meds were making me cranky, but I wanted to slap her. I looked back at Declan, who stood transfixed, staring down at her double grip.
Then I saw it, too. A diamond so big, it actually looked heavy on the third finger of her left hand. At least two carats of faceted stone.
How impractical. You’d never be able to knead bread . . .
And then: What the heck? And finally: Oh, dear. Something is terribly wrong here.
“It looks like congratulations are in order,” I managed in a strangled voice.
Goddess help me, she smirked. “Thank you so much, Katie! Yes, we’re very happy.” She finally dropped my boyfriend’s hands and wrapped her arms around Steve’s waist.
Steve’s eyes met mine. They held a smidge of embarrassment, a tad of apology, and a good dose of defiance, but all were dusted with his usual self-assurance. And when he looked down at his fiancée and grazed the crown of her head with his lips, his gaze held only adoration. “Very happy, indeed.”
Engaged? After what—a month at the most? No. It wasn’t like Steve. None of his behavior around Samantha seemed normal. Something else was going on. And it wasn’t the book on how to get what you wanted that she’d found at the Honeybee. No self-help book was that effective, especially when a druid was involved.
She got a love potion from Mambo Jeni and is using it on my friend. I wonder if Heinrich knows about this engagement yet. Though, by the sound of it, she might be using the love potion—or some variation—on him, as well.
I swallowed against the thickness in my throat and looked away. Normally I would have been outraged, but I was too tired and my shoulder hurt too much to deal with all this right now. Then I remembered something I’d been thinking about in the elevator on the way back down from intensive care.
“Steve, can I talk to you a sec?”
He tore his attention away from Samantha. “Sure.”
I pointed. “Over there?”
He looked surprised. Too bad. I wasn’t going to broach the subject in front of just anyone, and certainly not in front of her.
Samantha frowned. “Honeybuns, I think you two can talk about whatever you need to right here,” she said.
“It’s okay,” Steve said to her. “I’ll be right back.”
She glared at me. “No. We don’t have any secrets. Just like Katie and Declan don’t. Right?” She turned to Declan with a wide smile. “Right?”
“It’s not about a secret,” I said.
“Could it wait, Katie?” Steve cut in. “Because if it’s not urgent, you need to go home and get some rest. You look awful.”
Samantha smiled at that.
“Why, thank you,” I said, weighing my options. “Yes, it can wait.” I returned Samantha’s smile as I added, “I’ll call you, Steve.”
Her pretty little nostrils flared. “Come on.” She pulled Steve toward the door.
“You take care of her, Declan,” he called over his shoulder.
The room wavered in front of me, and I grabbed the back of a chair as they exited. Lucy gasped, and Ben started toward me, but Declan already had his arm around my waist and was helping me to sit down.
Lucy perched on the other side of me. “Katie, honey, we have to get you home.”
“I’ll pull the car up,” my uncle said, and started for the door.
“Wait, Ben,” Declan said. “I’m going to call into work and get someone to cover the rest of my shift.”
I shook my cotton-filled head. “You don’t need to do that. Ben needs to get back to the bakery. If you can take him in the truck, then Lucy can take me and Mungo home—right, Luce?”
“Of course, honey.”
I looked up at Deck. “I’m going to go straight to bed. No need for you to miss work so you can watch me sleep.”
He frowned, unconvinced and unhappy.
“Really,” I said. “I’m a bit dizzy right now from the pills, but that’s all. And you know what?” I gingerly moved my elbow to make sure. “I already feel a lot better. That hydrowhatsit is kind of awesome.”
“Well, okay.” His tone was grudging. “But you call me if you need me, Lucy, and I’ll be there in a flash.”
She patted his arm. “I promise.”
* * *
I’d retrieved Mungo, said good-bye to Mimsey and Ben, and kissed Declan hard on the lips after assuring him yet again that he could go back to work. I was waiting in the late-afternoon sunlight for Lucy to unlock their vintage, baby blue Thunderbird when a black Chevy Tahoe screeched into a spot two cars over. Detective Quinn clambered out and strode toward me.
Suppressing a tired sigh, I said, “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Lightfoot, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“A fire.” I didn’t have the energy for witty repartee. “What are you doing here?”
He stopped in front of me and pressed his lips together. “You left me a message, remember?”
“Oh, right.” I shook my fuzzy head.
“And then McCarthy left me a message about the fire, that you were here, and that he suspected arson.”
“But you don’t investigate fires . . .”
“I investigate homicides and attempted homicides. If it was arson, then it’s possible someone tried to kill you— Oh, sorry, Ms. Eagel.”
Lucy had come around to stand at the back of the car, her lips parted as she listened.
“Er, and it sounds like there may have been another person in the house,” Quinn went on in a gentler tone. “Someone who didn’t make it out.”
“Tanna,” I said. “Mother Eulora’s, uh, caregiver. Sort of. I don’t know her last name. Eulora and I thought we heard her come in, but Declan wondered if it couldn’t have been someone setting the fire. I think he might be right.”
“Eulora Scanlon is the homeowner, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, the actual fire investigation is out of my hands. But I’ll be involved if I need to be.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said with feeling.
“I don’t think you need to worry that Tanna was caught in the fire,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I saw her in there.” I gestured toward the building looming behind him.
His gaze sharpened. “Where?”
“In the stairwell, outside the cardiac unit, where Eulora is being treated. Apparently, she doesn’t get along with the family. She ran away when I tried to talk to her, though.”
Lucy’s eyes grew wide.
Quinn whipped out the tiny notebook he always carried and scribbled a quick line before looking back up at me. “But you called me before the fire, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Oh! Yes. I wanted to tell you about Franklin’s landlady. She thought he ran out on his rent and re-rented his room, but she packed up his things. She wouldn’t give them to me, but she said she’d give them to you if you stop by. Her name is Cozie Temmons. Her rooming house is by Forsyth Park.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
“For the past two days, I’ve been trying to find out where Franklin was staying, with no luck. How did you find out?”
“Um.” I glanced at Lucy.
She smiled her encouragement. “Tell him about Mother Eulora.”
“The other fire victim? What in Sam Hill does she have to do with Frank Taite?” he demanded.
“Hey! Show some respect.” The pain meds were making me both cranky and cocky. “She had a heart attack in the middle of that fire. She’s lucky to be alive.”
He looked down at the asphalt, then back up at me. “Okay. So who was she to Frank?”
Poppa Jack had said Eulora was well-known in town, and she didn’t act secretive about her skills. I didn’t think she’d mind if I told Quinn. Besides, I was too tired to make up a lie. “She was his voodoo spiritualist.”
Quinn snorted before he could help himself.
“Listen. Franklin died from a snakebite, right? And you found feathers, snakeskin, and that other stuff near his body.”
“Yeah . . .” His interest was piqued now.
I grabbed the car handle and hugged Mungo tighter. “And you know that Franklin had an interest in the occult. Well, Mother Eulora calls herself a spiritualist, but she was referred to me as a voodoo queen. It turns out she’d helped Franklin on some of his cases involving the paranormal.” I chose my words carefully. “She told me voodoo was likely involved in Franklin’s death, and she told me where he’d been staying in Savannah when she last saw him—which was about three months ago. That’s how I knew where to look.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. He didn’t seem angry, just curious.
“First off, I didn’t know if I’d find where he’d stayed. Plus, when I heard voodoo, I knew you’d be less than receptive.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the Tahoe. “Katie, I know you think I’m a curmudgeon, but I’m just a practical guy. I don’t buy all that woo-woo stuff, only my own gut hunches. But I do know voodoo is alive and well here in Savannah, so I’m not discounting anything you’ve told me. I do wish you’d told me sooner, because if Franklin died as part of some kind of ritual, that changes everything. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
I visually checked with Lucy again. Between the pills and still feeling a little shocky I didn’t entirely trust my own judgment. Should I tell him about the other voodoo queens? About Poppa Jack? Without a good reason, that felt like a betrayal—to them, and certainly to Cookie.
“Maybe he can help,” she said.
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “There is something else.”
Well, there was one thing I could tell him. “A gris gris, a voodoo talisman, is missing,” I said. “Dawn Taite said something about it before she collapsed at the Honeybee.” I considered telling him Franklin had told his niece to find me if she got into trouble, but stopped myself in time. I could only imagine what Quinn would think if I claimed to be a super-duper, black-magic-fighting lightwitch. “It sounded important,” I said. “And I wondered if it might have something to do with what happened to Franklin. So I was trying to find it,” I finished, sounding lame even to my own ears. “So, will you pick up his boxes from Cozie Temmons?”
“Try and stop me.” His tone was grim.
“Is there any chance you’ll let me know what’s in them?” I asked. “In particular, a metal amulet with white fringes.”
Lucy grinned. “Of course he will. Won’t you, Peter?”
“We’ll see,” he said. “But you have to promise to stop keeping things to yourself that might help me.”
I pointed at him. “As long as you’re willing to hear what I say—not yell at me like you did when I told you about Franklin contacting me through a psychic—then I promise.”
He shook his head. “Deal. But that psychic stuff was off the mark. Franklin wasn’t even dead back then.”
At my noise of protest, he held up his hand. “Anyway, I also want to ask you about how that fire—”
I staggered. He took a big step, catching me by my good elbow.
“Peter Quinn!” Lucy stepped forward. “This poor girl has been through a lot today. She’s exhausted, not to mention wounded. You have to let her go home and go to bed.”
“I’m sorry, Katie. You do look awful.”
I wished people would stop saying that.
He opened the car door and helped me inside. Lucy hurried around to the other side and got in, keys at the ready. As she started the engine, I caught Quinn’s arm. “The fire? I don’t know how it started. We were in the back of the house, and it could have burned for a while before we realized. But I can tell you it wasn’t a normal fire.”
“Okay, Katie. Thanks.” He shut my door, and I thought he was humoring me until I saw the deep concern shining from his eyes. Then it was replaced by his usual professional poker face.
Even though she could barely see over the steering wheel, Lucy skillfully backed the big car out and turned toward my place in Midtown. Mungo curled into a tight ball on my lap, and I rested my hand on his back as I allowed the seat to envelop me in comfort.
“I can’t believe they got engaged so quickly,” I heard myself say.
“Steve and Samantha, you mean.” Lucy shrugged and nodded. “It is a bit sudden, but there’s no accounting for true love.”
“If that’s true love, I guess you’re right,” I said. But that’s not what this was. Or was it? Was Samantha really using a love potion, or was I just a bit jealous?
“Ben and I had a very short courtship.” A soft smile smoothed the worry lines from her forehead.
“Only a couple of months, right?”
“Less than that. But we knew right away. You know.”
Actually, I didn’t. Declan and I were taking things slow, and that was largely my doing. I was admittedly a tad gun-shy since Andrew had broken up with me right before our wedding back in Akron, though it had been well over a year ago. I couldn’t help it if I liked my life the way it was. Still, Declan had dropped enough hints about living together, marriage, even children that I knew he wanted more.
Darn it, just because we weren’t jumping into matrimony didn’t mean we weren’t in love, though. And that ring Steve had bought Sam was ridiculous.
“And then there’s Cookie and Oscar,” Lucy broke in to my thoughts. “They got married very quickly. Within weeks of meeting each other.”
“That’s not the highest recommendation,” I said.
She turned her head. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Katie? Are they having problems?”
“I’m sure it’s the same getting-used-to-each-other things all newlyweds experience,” I said. Another good reason to take it slow.
We rode in silence for a few minutes. I was beginning to doze when Lucy asked, “What were you going to ask Steve in there?”
“What?” I startled awake. “Oh. I was hoping he might be willing to help Mother Eulora.”
She turned onto my street. “Help her how?”
“Well . . . we’ve healed together before. I thought maybe we could help her.”
My aunt pursed her lips. “I doubt Samantha would have liked that. Or Declan.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lucy. I’m talking about healing magic, not sex. I feel so guilty about what happened,” I said. “If I could make Eulora feel better, maybe help her heart condition . . . well, I couldn’t do much right now, anyway, not feeling like this. So I let it go. Still, maybe I can talk to Steve about it when I have my strength back.” I looked out the window. An athletic-looking woman pushed a toddler in a stroller with one hand, her golden retriever’s leash trailing from the other. “I also thought about trying to pierce Dawn’s coma somehow, but Mother Eulora said we need to know if the talisman was involved, and, if so, who used it before we could break the curse. Besides, I don’t know how we could manage any spell work in front of the intensive-care staff.”
She made a wry face. “You have a good heart, Katie. But you need to stop feeling guilty. Mimsey was right. None of this is your fault. You didn’t start that fire.”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing,” I said. “I’m sure as heck going to find out who did.”