“Anytime, bro.” I lightly sock him in the arm. He chuckles. “I think I’m going to like having you in the family.”
“Right back atcha.”
“Oh…” My finger jumps to an added point. “And include a chocolate fudge cupcake with one of the notes. Just not a day-of note.”
“Noted,” he puns.
Once we’re across the Mississippi River, we take the first exit, and Phillip starts maneuvering the streets until he pulls up in front of the little house I share with Mom.
“Thanks for the ride.” I open the door and jump out. Move to retrieve my bike, but Phillip is quick and beats me to the action.
He lifts my bike out of the truck bed and sets it on the ground. Wheels it around to the sidewalk. “Where do you want it?”
“Just inside the backyard.” He wheels the bike down the side of the house and pushes it inside the gated yard. “Thanks, again,” I say, holding the gate for him. “See ya around.”
“Definitely.” He returns to his truck. Letting the gate self-close, I circle around to the front door.
Mom is waiting for me and, at the sound of my entry, jumps from her seat on the sofa. The television is airing some crime show. She pushes the off button on the remote.
“What happened?” She throws her arms around me. “Ruth said you were sick.”
It’s so odd hearing Grandma called by her name that it takes me a moment to realize who my mom is talking about. “Food poisoning,” I say, even if Grandma told me it was something more. Mom doesn’t need to know that.
“Well, I’m glad you are feeling better.” She releases me and steps back. “Your friends called, while you were out.”
“Which ones?” I set my bag of clothing on the coffee table and move past Mom, heading for the kitchen, and the phone.
“All of them, I think,” she replies.
I pause. Spin back toward her. My eyes tensing with the need for clarity.
“I wrote their names down on the pad beside the phone.” She gestures toward the kitchen.
Guessing that’s the best answer I am going to get from her, I make my way to the kitchen and the pad of paper sitting on the counter. Scan the names written.
Luna, James, Jeanna, and Chuks. Who the heck is Chuks?
Chapter Nine
I don’t know any Chuks, so why would one be calling the house looking for me?
“Mom!” With the pad of paper in hand, I spin toward the front room and head for my mom, and—hopefully—answers.
Mom is leaning over the brown bag I brought back from Grandma’s, riffling through my clean clothes. She stands straight at my approach. In her hand, a tiny bag of spice. She releases it, letting it fall back into the bag. “What is it?”
“Who is Chuks and what did he want?” I wave the pad in my hand.
“Chuks?” She shakes her head, clear confusion warping her face. “I don’t recall any Chuks. Why do you ask?”
“Because you wrote his name down right here.” I present the notepad to her. She accepts and glances over the names.
“I don’t…” She blinks. “Oh. I think he might have said something about being an acquaintance of John and Luna. Who’s John, again?”
“James’s brother,” I blurt. My mind is racing. Someone who knows both John and Luna. Who could that possibly be, and why are they reaching out to me?
John and Luna. John and Luna. I think, think, think.
I suck back a deep, to my toes, breath.
The bokor! The bokor called my house.
Merciful soul eater!
“Did he say what he wanted?” I ask.
“If he had, I would have written it down.” She hands me back the notepad. There is no note written beside his name. Great. So, what message am I supposed to take from the fact he called? Is it a warning? Or something else?
I need to call Luna and make sure she’s alright. After that, I need to talk to James.
I return to the kitchen and lift the phone from the wall cradle. Pause. Stare deeper at the notepad. I think I see…
I flip the page. There, written on the second piece in the notepad is a note.
Little witches should keep their activities maintained within their own territory. Don’t jump the fence. Safety is never guaranteed, especially when playing outside of the lines.
A warning and a threat. Clearly from Chuks. Why didn’t I flip through the pad earlier? And why didn’t my mom remember taking the message?
What if the bokor has Luna? My breath snags, and my heart double thumps. What would I do? What could I do?
I dial Luna’s number. Her mom answers after the third ring. She calls for Luna, and the mere act somewhat calms my nerves. Luna is home. Luna is safe.
“I’m putting these back in your room.” Mom stands in the kitchen doorway, holding my clothing brought back from Grandma’s. “What is with the bags of spices?”
Later, I mouth and wave her off, silently approving her actions. She disappears down the hall.
“Belle.” Luna’s voice pulls my attention back to the phone. “How are you? I was so worried. You were so sick.”
“I’m good now. You’re the one I’m worried about.” I pace back and forth across the kitchen. I don’t tell her the men following us slipped me some sort of poison. She’s already stressed enough. But had the second cup of cocoa been tainted as mine had been? What if Luna had taken a sip? “Any further sightings of those guys who were following you?”
“No, but my father is at an all-time low last night, and I managed to get some information out of him,” she says. “It isn’t good.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” I counter.
“Maybe,” she continues. “But my dad apparently accepted some sort of favor from the local bokor, money or something, and now it’s past pay-up time. Only, he can’t because he doesn’t have the money.”
My grip on the receiver tightens. “And now the bokor is trying to use you to motivate your dad, isn’t he?
