Neither Boo nor the cats were anywhere to be seen. Turned out Boo was just as freaked out by the ghosts as Roly and Poly.
When Virgil spotted me, he immediately backed up, paused, and tapped his wrist with his index finger, mimicking pointing at a watch.
“I haven’t forgotten about going to get Louella,” I reassured him, though I wanted to forget. “Give me a minute, and I’ll be ready to go.”
I went about brushing my teeth and hair and trying to make myself look presentable. I changed out of flannel pajamas into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed one of Dylan’s ball caps, and skipped any makeup at all except for lip balm. I threw treats to the cats and Boo, who were under the bed, and left a note for Delia telling her where I’d gone off to.
I was searching for a spare set of sunglasses—my other pair had been lost in the fire—when my phone rang. It was Dylan’s number at the sheriff’s office.
“How’re you feeling, Care Bear?” he asked when I answered.
“Much better. My daddy came by with a potion just a few minutes ago. And he also brought a DNA report.” I told him all about it. “So, I guess we can now erase any doubt that Haywood was the heir to the house. We just have to uncover who knew it, too, so we can figure out who may have killed him over it.”
“Have you deduced a way to go about getting that information?”
I smiled. “I thought I’d ask each remaining Harpie point-blank and read the energy of the answer. It’s how I knew Idella didn’t know about the house.”
“That could work.” He paused. “And I think you should start with my mama. I’ll bring her by tonight for supper. Okay with you? I can pick up some take-out.”
“Delia’s making chili.”
“Sounds delicious!” he said, overly eager.
“You do remember I almost died yesterday, right? I’m not sure my system can handle another shock so soon. And your mama is all kinds of shocking to my system.”
“Let’s make a deal. You agree to read my mother’s energy at supper tonight, and I’ll bring you a copy of my mama’s mug shot.”
“You play dirty.”
“Deal?” he asked.
I was going to frame that photo. “Deal.”
“I truly hate to put you in this position, but we need answers,” he said softly.
We did. Haywood did, too. I thought about his eyes as he led me to the hatch in Rupert’s study and felt my chest squeeze. Time was running out faster than I imagined. “All right,” I finally agreed. “But I’m only agreeing for Haywood’s sake.”
There was a stretch of silence on his end and for a moment, I thought he hung up. “Care Bear, I’m just glad you’re agreeing at all. We’ll be by at seven.”
Okay, I may have lied a wee bit. It wasn’t just for Haywood. As I’d been talking to Dylan, my daddy’s voice had been playing on a loop in my head.
If you want Dylan you have to figure out a way to make nice with Patricia.
I wanted Dylan. So I would make nice with Patricia even if it killed me.
Which it might.
Grumbling, I hung up and looked at Virgil. “Almost ready.”
As I rinsed my mug, I glanced at the paternity test again and noticed a detail I’d missed on first look-through.
It had been a bone sample used for the test.
Well, that explained some things.
Getting hold of that bone had to have been what the grave robbing on the Ezekiel property had been about. Because Haywood wasn’t around to confirm the information, I had to go about confirming it on my own.
All I had to do was stop by the Ezekiel cemetery and take a peek to see which grave had been dug up. In fact, I could stop on my way to Dr. Gabriel’s office. It was on the way.
Easy peasy.
No problem.
Piece of cake.
Except for one tiny problem.
That cemetery scared the bejeebers out of me.
Chapter Sixteen
Being a self-preserving kind of witch, I decided to postpone the trip to the Ezekiel cemetery until after my visit with Dr. Gabriel.
At least then I wouldn’t be entirely alone. I’d have the meanest dog around with me. I figured Louella was scarier than anything in the graveyard.
I hadn’t been able to find my spare sunglasses, so I pulled the ball cap low over my eyes as I speed-walked toward Doc’s clinic, three blocks away. I took the long way in order to bypass the Ezekiel house.
On our way to the clinic, we happened to pass the spot where Virgil had been hit by a car and killed. He paused a moment, taking in the scene.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He nodded.
“I wish there had been witnesses. Doesn’t seem right that justice hasn’t been served for you.”
Yes.
“Do you remember anything about what happened?”
Yes.
“Was it a car or truck that hit you?”
Looking around, he pointed to an SUV parked nearby.
Excited, I said, “What was the color of it?”
He pointed to his skin.
“Gray?” I asked.
Shaking his head, he smiled and pointed again.
Ah, his skin before he was a ghost. “Black?”
Yes.
“Did you see who was driving?”
He tipped a hand side to side in a kind-of gesture.