I looked back and saw her trying to pry one of the eyes out. Zombies were coming out of the woods fast and furious. Then I heard the sound of a helicopter nearby.

  Noelle went to my window.

  “Miss Lucy to the rescue, once again,” I said.

  “Afraid not,” Noelle said. “It’s my ride on the first leg of my journey to the monastery. My God, those zombies are fast!”

  I watched her feverishly try to pry the one eye out while Alex took photos. When she successfully removed the emerald eye, it had the desirable effect of somehow slowing down the zombies.

  “That helicopter just lowered a ladder for someone,” Link said.

  “That would be for me,” Noelle said, handing Alex both the statue and the loose eye. “How about some cover for a girl?”

  “Anything for you, sister,” I said.

  She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, took a deep breath, then ran out the door. As the zombies went after her, we shot them. One fell down in front of her—she jumped on his back and onto the ladder.

  “Good luck, boys!” Noelle said as she flew away.

  “Lucky woman,” Harry said. He held the statue still long enough for Alex to pry the other eye out. Instantly, the zombies out front fell lifeless to the ground. Not that it stopped Clyde and Virgil from shooting them, or Buck and Billy from attempting to chop them up into zombie soup.

  -17-

  The Cavalry Arrives

  All of us were standing in the front yard when two police cars drove up, followed by two plain white vans. A minute after they’d parked, I heard her familiar voice.

  “Couldn’t you men even bother to put some drawers on—sheeeit!” Miss Lucy said, walking toward us dressed in a black T-shirt, black jacket, and black pants. Her hair was now gathered into a neat bun worn on the nape of her neck.

  She spotted the statue in Alex’s hands, and took it and the loose eyes he handed her. Her attention quickly turned to the policemen behind her.

  “Put everyone, but my three, in the second white van to take them to the farm, so they can be looked over. I need to talk to mine first, then they can join the others.”

  Two nondescript officers helped the others that had come with us from the campground into the second van. Miss Lucy looked at me and smiled.

  “I always said you had a nice body, detective. But good Lord, it looks like Christmas out here with all this red and green all over the damn place! Nice job finding this statue; the organization acted too quickly bringing in Sassy Jones.” She looked at the statue.

  “There are some loose emeralds inside the house, which would make you a nice pair of earrings, maybe even a bracelet too,” I said.

  “So the thing did cry emeralds,” Miss Lucy said.

  “The statue looks like it may have come from Africa,” Alex said. “The design is not so different from other things I saw when I was traveling there on a tour.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Miss Lucy said. “Luckily, I’ve a new friend in town, who runs an African museum in this area… she may be able to add some information about this piece.”

  “The pastor’s wife?” I said.

  “Yes,” Miss Lucy said. “She restored an old home and farm once owned by a former slave, and had it turned into a museum and historical working farm. You three will be meeting her tomorrow.” She turned to Buck, who’d been staring at her since she’d started talking. “What the hell are you looking at, you naked fool?”

  “I’m just trying to see if you have an Adam’s apple, since I heard someone say you were a drag queen.”

  “What?” Miss Lucy said.

  “He just misunderstood something that was said, Miss Lucy,” Alex said. “We know you’re all woman.”

  “Damn straight,” Miss Lucy said. “I’m surprised you’re even still alive, Buck Taggerty. Hell, I’m not so sure it’s a good thing you did survive. I Guess those zombies didn’t think you were worth the effort of killing. You all get in the van with the others; I’m tired of looking at your naked junk.”

  “What about all this mess?” I said.

  “My people in the first van are here to examine the leftovers, do research, and clean,” Miss Lucy said. “I have some other people gathering your stuff from the campground.”

  “Don’t you need to know where to find our stuff,” Buck said.

  “Shut it, boy. I know where to find your stuff. Don’t think I haven’t kept tabs on things since you boys have been out here.”

  “Clyde and Virgil,” I said. “They were keeping you abreast of things.”

  “They’re a regular fixture in the campground, and you know how I love to meet the locals. Besides, with zombies involved, I felt better knowing you’d have backup—should you need it.”

  “We did need it, so thank you,” I said.

  As we walked to the van, I caught up with Buck and patted him on the back.

  “Good job, zombie killer,” I said.

  “Any time,” Buck said. “Well, maybe not any time.”

  Everyone was tired, so we rode in silence. The van had no windows, which meant we had no idea where we were going, but we hadn’t been riding fifteen minutes before we stopped. Once the doors opened, we found ourselves inside a large area covered with white plastic. Men in lab coats wearing gloves took samples of the blood that had been spilled on us from the zombies, then we were escorted to a shower area. More men poured some kind of disinfectant on us, then began scrubbing our bodies with what were essentially large brooms. At the end of the line, someone was waiting with white robes for us to put on. No one spoke as we were escorted to a plain white room, where blood samples were taken from our arms, and we were given two shots. Afterward, we were taken to different rooms.

  Miss Lucy walked in and informed me that we’d been separated in order to get individual accounts of what had happened. She finished by saying that one of the shots we were given was to fight off any sort of infections from our ordeal, and the second shot was to help us sl…e…ep.

  -18-

  Meeting a Lady

  When I opened my eyes, Miss Lucy was sitting there staring at me. I sat up and looked around the room; it was empty except for the bed I was in, and the chair Miss Lucy sat on.

  “We’re inside a giant plastic tent set up inside a barn, detective,” Miss Lucy said. “It’s a little makeshift—think of the plastic rooms you see scientists set up in the movies. Only instead of studying aliens, they’re studying zombies here.”

  “And us too, I’m guessing,” I said, noticing I was still nude under the sheet. “What happens now?”

  “Everyone that survived the campground attack was medically cleared and okayed to leave. I had everyone but you, Alex, and the fool taken back to the camp.”

  “You sound almost as impressed with Buck as I am. In his defense, he did a good job taking care of the zombies.”

  Miss Lucy stood, folded her arms on her chest, and gave me an ‘oh, really’ look.

  “Humph!” Miss Lucy said. “The man doesn’t belong in the field, but that’s not our concern right now.”

  A man walked in and handed Miss Lucy a black garment bag and a shoe bag, which she took before brushing the man away with her hand.

  “We’ve got an appointment with a lady,” Miss Lucy said.

  “So, am I finally going to meet the infamous Sassy,” I said.

  “No—I said we were meeting a lady. Git your ass out of bed and get dressed; it’s not as if I haven’t seen your naked body already.”

  I stood and took the garment bag and shoe bag proffered to me. Inside was a very nice dress jacket, pants, dress shirt, and even underwear.

  “Did you pick out my drawers yourself?” I said, with a smile that finally made Miss Lucy break down and let out a hearty laugh. At that moment, I took the opportunity to get a good look at her. Her hair was neatly brushed back into a loose bun, and she was dressed in a professional gray suit with a pink shirt underneath. That was also the first time I’d seen her in heels—sensible low black heels, but heels nonetheless. I put on the underwear and saw Miss Lucy sit and let out a sigh before looking my way. “That bad, huh, Miss Lucy.”

  “Naw… not really—I’m just being an old bitch. The problem is I don’t like working with people whom I consider to be slightly incompetent.”

  “I guess Buck’s like a babe needing his momma—like you said I was in Shelby.”

  “The exact opposite I’d say. I’ve met Buck’s momma. The last thing that boy needs is another momma. He needs to man up, is what he needs. And I’m the one that’s going to be dealing with his refresher training too. Saint’s alive! I’d rather deal with a hundred zombies than one Buck Taggerty.”

  “So, what’s your beef with Sassy? Is she incompetent too?” I put on and buttoned up the light blue dress shirt that had been in the garment bag.

  “No! She’s too damn competent. She knows how to get the job done, but the woman can be demanding and bossy.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said, zipping up the striped, gray dress pants I’d slipped on. “You and Sassy are too much alike.”

  “I should smack you down for that comment, boy—but it’s no lie. Miss Sassy runs what she calls a salvage business, which is actually much more. The woman is good at her job, which is finding valuable things. She’ll do a good job here, but as someone brought in from the outside, not as part of our team.”

  “And you don’t completely trust that,” I said.

  “It’s a question of loyalty; as an ex-soldier, you understand what I mean. Sassafras Jones is on her own side and loyal to her own team—luckily for us, this time around, we are all part of one team. So we have her loyalty on this assignment… which is a good thing. I’ve gone up against her at least once before.”

  “Sounds like it was a hard-won battle.”

  “Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt, but in that case, I lost the battle; and Miss Sassy was able to ask a very high price for procuring an item before us.”

  I sat back on the bed and opened the shoe bag. To my surprise, inside were dark leather sandals, which smelled new as I put one on. It had a thin horizontal strap across the toes, one going diagonally across the top of my foot and the third strap going diagonally across my ankle.

  “It’s hard to imagine you losing at anything, Miss Lucy.”

  “That’s because it doesn’t happen often. Alex and Buck are dressing as we speak. Something a bit more casual was picked out for them.”

  “We’re going to meet the pastor’s wife, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, but you probably forgot my mentioning it yesterday, with everything that was happening.”

  “I did, Miss Lucy,” I said. “Not very competent of me.”

  “Don’t worry about that too much, it’s an aftereffect of the medication we gave you to sleep. We also gave you shots to prevent infections and other things. How did you figure out we were seeing her?”

  “The sandals gave it away. They wouldn’t be out of place amongst religious folks like monks or priests.”

  “I just told the people getting the clothes that you preferred sandals and flip-flops, but a nicer sandal would be more appropriate for this meeting.”

  “Thank you,” I said, “but isn’t it an unusual choice of footwear with a suit?”

  “Not nowadays,” Miss Lucy said, then stood. “Besides, I know men like you. I may have called you a boy when we first met, but you’re all man. You walk like a jungle cat… sleek and quiet… hunting your prey and holding your ground. Shoes and clothes get in the way; men like you need to feel the earth beneath them—it grounds you and gives you strength.”

  “Wow,” I said, now fully dressed. “I’m flattered by that description. So, how did you lose to Miss Sassy?”

  “We’d better get a move on, if you want to brush your teeth and use the john. How’s married life treating you, boy?”

  “Nice change of subject there,” I said. “Partnered life is great, and I see I’m back to being called ‘boy’ again.”

  Miss Lucy laughed and put an arm around me.

  * * * *

  After I used the facilities, a thin, casually dressed man led me outside to where Miss Lucy, Alex, and Buck were waiting in Miss Lucy’s purple Cadillac convertible, which had its top down. Once inside, I turned and looked back at Alex and Buck. Both of them were dressed casually in khakis and polo shirts. Looking down, I noticed they both wore the same sandals as me.

  “They got a discount for buying three of the same pairs of sandals,” Buck said. “I would’ve preferred my own clothes. The sandals are OK, but I don’t like the color red on me.” He tugged on his red shirt.

  “Well, red likes you; and don’t worry, your own things will be waiting for you at the bed and breakfast,” Miss Lucy said, as she started the car and drove forward.

  “Hi,” Alex said.

  “Hi,” I said, reaching back to hold his hand a moment. “I like your blue shirt—we match. I felt lonely waking up without you.”

  “What the hell was I—chopped liver?” Miss Lucy said. “I was there waiting when you woke up.” She laughed loudly and stepped on the gas.

  “Miss Lucy, how’s about some briefing before we meet the lady?” I said.

  “OK, boys, listen up,” Miss Lucy said. “After you meet the pastor’s wife, Alex can start taking pictures and looking around as he sees fit. Buck, you go wander around outside and see what you can find out from questioning the workers. Detective, I need you to do your job and find the truth of things.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I said.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, we saw a large sign advertising the Carter Farm African-American Homestead Museum in front of a dirt driveway. Miss Lucy drove down the long driveway, and we saw several young male workers and one young female tending to the gardens on the left. After Miss Lucy parked the Cadillac, we started walking to the home, which was small but nice. There were trees overhead shading its wraparound porch. We walked up four steps onto the porch then to the front door. As I reached for the door, someone greeted us from the left side of the porch.

  “Hello again, Miss Lucy, I see you brought your friends as promised.”

  We were being addressed by a familiar woman wearing a navy blue wrap dress and low heels. Her makeup was understated, and she wore simple jewelry, consisting of a wedding ring, a simple gold cross on a thin chain necklace, and small gold hoop earrings.

  “Well, hello again, I’m Mrs. Chantelle Markham. The church ladies enjoyed the bakery goods you were so kind to pay for.”

  As Miss Lucy made introductions, we shook Mrs. Markham’s hand. It was nice to put a name to the face we’d met in the bakery a couple days earlier. Buck stayed outside, and the rest of us entered the home and museum. The almost completely open interior had beautifully maintained hardwood, but was clearly redone inside.

  “Unfortunately, a fire gutted the inside of the home years ago… before we arrived,” Chantelle said. “The only thing we could afford to do was put in floors and put up walls. One day, I’d love to restore it to how it looked originally. For now, the open space serves the museum well. The grounds follow the original plans.”

  “Are the workers outside volunteers?” I said.

  “They’re here as part of our church’s outreach program to at risk youth.”

  “Nice,” I said, then I began to look at some of the photographs on the walls.

  Alex was taking pictures of Mrs. Markham and Miss Lucy when something caught my attention.

  “Mrs. Markham, is this what I think it is?”

  -19-

  Surprise! Surprise!

  “That depends,” Chantelle said. “What exactly do you think you see, Detective Shayne?”

  I walked toward a table against the far wall and looked down into an acrylic case, which was set on top of it.

  “A green-eyed lady statue,” I said.

  “A replica,” Chantelle said. “It has no emerald eyes.”

  “Is it an exact replica?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  She walked to the case, lifted the cover, removed the statue, and handed it to me while Alex took pictures of it.

  “It’s identical to the one we found,” I said.

  “You’ve found one?” Chantelle said.

  “Just yesterday,” Miss Lucy said. “My people had to fight zombies to get it out to us.”

  “The inscription on your statue is the same as the one we have,” I said.

  “Where, may I ask did you find the statue?” Chantelle said.

  “The gay campground,” I said, curious to see where her questioning was heading.

  “I’d always guessed that it was Prudence Bailey, who’d anonymously donated this reproduction,” Chantelle said. “Like everyone else in town, I assumed her mother owned the original.”

  “Maybe she does own one of the originals, just not this particular statue,” Miss Lucy said.

  “Mrs. Markham, have you ever had the writing on the statue translated?” I said.

  “I was able to translate it myself. In school, I studied ancient cultures; although to be honest, these statues are not as old as people think they are.”

  “These statues,” I said. “You know there are more than one?”

  “I’m fairly sure there are three of these fetish statues, each one representing one third of a pagan ritual,” Chantelle said.

  “We should’ve started this case by coming to see you first,” Alex said.

  “How were you to know?” Chantelle said. “Most people here don’t really understand much about the green-eyed ladies. But you asked about the writing on the statue, Detective Shayne.”

  “Please call me, Layton; and I would love to be enlightened on the writing.”

  “Feel free to call me Chantelle then, Layton.” She pushed one of her sleeves up, and I noticed a nasty scar on her arm. Chantelle was quick to address the situation. “My husband and I were victims of a nasty attack in the town we used to live in before coming here. It was only by the grace of God that we survived.”

 

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