“Where is it?”
“I dunno. Prob’ly sittin’ in the console of my van where I left it.”
“Dammit, Ben…”
This time he interrupted me instead. “Relax, will ya’? I’m just yankin’ your chain. I got it right here in my pocket. You were pretty damn clear about not just leavin’ it layin’ around.”
“You’re sure it’s there?”
I could hear him shuffling around a bit on the other end of the line, then he replied, “Well, now it’s in my hand and I’m starin’ right at it, so yeah, I’m sure.”
“And you can see the necklace in there, not just the salt?”
“Salt. So that’s what that is.”
“Ben…”
“Yeah, yeah, Jeezus… Chill out white man, I can see the goddamn necklace floatin’ around in the salt.”
“Good.”
“Where the hell’d ya’ think it’d be?”
“I’m just checking, Ben. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh… So you really think a friggin’ piece a jewelry is why Firehair got all Twilight Zone weird on us?” he mused, referring to Felicity by a favored nickname.
“Yes, I do,” I replied. “And Miranda just all but confirmed it.”
“How?”
“Something she said. She told me she knew I wanted to ask Annalise about the necklace.”
“So?”
“So I hadn’t even mentioned it.”
“Yeah, okay,” he replied. I could almost see him nodding. “So what you’re really talkin’ about is spooky, dead person, Witch shit.”
“Something like that.”
“Okay, so then ya’ wanna tell me what’s goin’ on? You’re soundin’ a bit ramped up.”
I let out a quiet but heavy sigh. “I’d like to say just me being paranoid, but we know how that usually turns out.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Usually you ain’t paranoid, they really are out ta’ get ya’. So, really, fill me in. What’s the story?”
“I haven’t really figured it all out yet, but I have a sneaking suspicion the FBI is keeping me in the dark about something,” I said.
“Mushroom treatment, eh… No big surprise there,” Ben grunted. “What’s Constance think?”
“Same thing as me, unfortunately.”
I could imagine him shaking his head as he breathed, “Fuckin’ wunnerful… Goddamn Feebs.”
“You date one.”
“She’s an exception.”
“Yeah, I’d have to agree with you there.”
My friend sighed heavily and then adopted a curious tone. “So, lemme ask ya’ somethin’. Why are ya’ puttin’ yourself through all this shit? Why don’t ya’ just do some hocus-pocus on this Miranda bitch and be done with ‘er?”
“I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“What’s the deal? Your Witch-fu not good enough?”
“That’s one way of saying it,” I replied. “Hoodoo is some very intense stuff, Ben. It has no moral restrictions, and it’s like the guerrilla warfare of magick.”
“Yeah, so? I thought the stuff you do was pretty serious too.”
“It is, but hoodoo is seriously down and dirty. It can…” I stopped mid-sentence and took a mental step back. Rather than giving him a detailed lesson in magick, what I really needed was a mundane analogy that would get the point across. “Look at it this way,” I said after a short pause. “The particular magick I’m dealing with here is like two-part epoxy. You need both parts to make it work. Same basic principle applies. For me, or even an expert practitioner of Vodoun and hoodoo for that matter, in order to stop what Miranda has set in motion, both parts of the magickal working are necessary. That necklace you’re holding onto for me is only half of it. Without the other, the situation is at best a stalemate.”
“You ain’t actin’ like it’s at its best,” he observed.
“That’s because it’s not.”
“Great,” he grunted. “So what happens if ya’ can’t find the other half?”
“I’d rather not think about that.”
“Yeah… I ‘magine not.”
I swallowed hard and slowly let out a breath. “Yeah… So, listen, I still really need to call Felicity and check in with her. Just do me a favor. Don’t let that necklace out of your sight, okay? And don’t go anywhere near Felicity with it.”
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “I kinda got that part already.”
“Thanks, Ben.”
“I’ll put it on your tab. Hey…you do me a favor too. Have Constance call me when you’re done screwin’ around with ‘er phone, okay?”
“Yeah, I will. Later.” I stabbed the end button even as the last word was coming out of my mouth and then began dialing a new number.
A moment later my wife’s near panicked voice issued from the earpiece. “Constance? What’s wrong? Is Rowan okay?”
“It’s me,” I told her.
“Rowan? Sorry… The caller ID came up with Constance’s cell number.”
I explained. “My phone’s still in a personal effects locker, so I’m using hers.”
“Row… Is everything okay?” The concern that was initially apparent in her voice had dropped considerably, but a thread of tension was still palpable.
“Yeah…I’m okay…” I told her. “What about you?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, her voice a bit hesitant. “Why?”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“I’m fine… Rowan, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing… I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”
“Breugadair.”
I met the Gaelic insult head on. “I hate to tell you this honey, but you might want to look in a mirror. I can tell you’re lying too.”
“That would be breugag.”
“You say potato…”
“One is masculine, the other feminine…”
“I’m sure it is, but I didn’t call you for a lesson in Irish Gaelic, and I hate to tell you this, but you aren’t any better at changing the subject than I am. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You first.”
“Good Gods, Felicity, I’m fine…”
“If you were really fine you wouldn’t be calling then. Not yet,” she chastised, then stated as much as asked, “You’ve been in to see her already, haven’t you?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Who was she?”
“Miranda. But that’s pretty much who I expected.”
“Aye… So…what happened?”
I stifled a snort. “Just what she wanted, I’m afraid. She pushed all the right buttons and set me off.”
“Are you really okay then?”
“Yeah…” I half whispered. “Yeah… At the moment I think she bruised my ego mostly. But, she’s not going down without a fight, and that has me worried.”
