Who Do, Voodoo?, page 15
“Henry.” Madame Iyå’s words were slow and direct. “Sophie has a message from your dear wife. She loves you and wants you to take care of yourself.”
His wife’s name was Maria. Sophie would know that. Madame Iyå had to do better than a sweeping generalization to convince me. And using Henry to feign familiarity made me bristle.
Henry opened his eyes.
“There’s a pink candle in Sophie’s bedroom for you.” Madame Iyå said to him. “Burn it at night, and you will dream of your wife.”
He nodded and sighed. His finger trembled a bit as it held mine.
Although my experience with séances was limited to this one, I didn’t recall hearing that participants left with party favors. How much time had Jimmy spent in Sophie’s bedroom? Enough to search for the spell book, too?
The living room got colder. A draft swept across the floor and flickered the flames of the candles. The scent of rose was strong. I thought I saw a shadow move behind Jimmy and Tawny. I brushed away the sensation that someone else was in the room with us. Silly. And yet, I tensed up. Something shifted.
“Nola. Sophie wants you to publish her spell book.” Madame Iyå hesitated. “No, Sophie. I couldn’t. Yes, then, as you wish.” Her face wrinkled. Madame Iyå shook her head and let out a deep sigh. “She wants me to help you complete it. She said it would benefit the family.”
Aha. The money pitch. Nick was right. This evening was about money. More than a basket full of twenties. Madame Iyå wanted to get her fat paws on Sophie’s spell book.
Linda’s body went rigid. She clenched her hand over mine and began to rock. She spoke in a deep and insistent voice—a voice I didn’t recognize. “No. I don’t want that. My secrets have to be protected. There will be danger. No.”
“What are you talking about, Linda?” Nola said.
Linda stared across the room. “Linda’s not here, my treasure.”
“Who are you?” Nola’s words came unsteady, searching. “Sophie?”
“Not Sophie. I’m Callia.”
The back of my neck tingled. Who was Callia?
Linda gazed around the circle. She stopped when she got to me. Her face had changed: the softness drained from her features. She looked tired, older. Her eyes were vacant.
A small terror edged my rational mind aside. I had a fleeting sensation that someone else’s eyes were staring at me from Linda’s face. Was Linda acting? In a trance? I willed myself to stay calm.
“You have to keep my secrets safe and with my family. Your question is answered inside.” She held her eyes on mine. “Promise me.”
I nodded warily, not knowing what she meant. “I promise.”
A door down the hall slammed shut with a force so hard it rattled the windows. Tawny screamed. I jumped.
Jimmy spun around and looked behind him. “Jesus.”
“Holy shit,” Nola said.
Madame Iyå raised her arms in the air. “Be quiet. Look at me, everyone. Look at me and stop talking. We have an uninvited presence. We’re safe if we stay inside the circle.”
She looked at Jimmy. He shrugged, wide-eyed.
Then Madame Iyå said, “Linda. Listen to me. Exhale. Let the energy float on your breath and send it back into the night. Follow my breath. Everyone, help her.”
Madame Iyå began to inhale and exhale deeply. We followed her until Linda joined in.
“We have to close the circle now,” Madame Iyå said. “We’ve kept Sophie’s spirit out of the light for too long. Sophie, we honor you and thank you for your visit. You may go with the other spirits in peace. Everyone repeat after me. Go in peace. Blessed be.”
We recited in unison: “Go in peace. Blessed be.”
Linda sat rigid. Her eyes were closed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I slipped my finger out of her grip and rubbed her arm to bring her into the moment. “Linda, it’s Liz. Can you hear me?”
Her eyelids flickered open. She touched her face. “What happened?”
“Linda.” I kept my eyes steady on hers to orient her. “Look at me. Do you know where you are?”
“No.” Linda braced herself to stand up, then buckled back to the floor.
“Henry, please get her some water. Tawny, help me get her onto the sofa.”
“Can we get up?” Tawny looked to Madame Iyå.
“Of course we can.” Henry got to his feet and stepped over the bowl on his way to the kitchen. “It’s over.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Jimmy flipped on the lights. The ghostly, candlelit mood of the séance was erased by the fixture overhead, which bounced a harsh glare onto the walls. Tawny and I eased Linda onto the sofa, while Henry brought a glass of water. Linda was dazed, her face as pasty as the white wall behind her.
Nola sat down and gripped Linda’s arm. “How do you know about Callia? Did Sophie tell you?”
“Let’s let her rest a minute. She’s shaking,” I said, noting that Nola didn’t ask who Callia was. Linda said the answer to my question was in her secrets—what secrets? The spell book? She must have overheard me say I wanted Sophie’s spirit to name her killer. Was Linda’s message connecting Madame Iyå to the murder and the spell book?
In the center of the room, Madame Iyå pushed herself up from the floor, straightening her caftan. Jimmy brought a broom and dustpan from the kitchen and began to sweep the circle of cornmeal off the floor. I brushed random grains from the back of my jeans and started toward Madame Iyå to get her opinion of how the séance unfolded.
“How is Linda?” Madame Iyå looked back to the sofa.
Henry and Nola sat on each side of Linda, stroking her arms.
“Disoriented,” I said. “She may have been in a suggestive trance. Who is Callia?”
“I don’t know.” Madame Iyå shrugged. “Some other spirit who followed Sophie into the circle. Its presence is still in this apartment and needs to be expelled.”
“Like, you mean, exorcised?” Tawny came up to us, wide-eyed. She looked across the room to Linda, then back to Madame Iyå. “I’m getting out of here.” Tawny reached for her coat. “I’ll get the sweater another time. This place is too freaky.”
“Wait.” Madame Iyå grabbed Tawny by the sleeve. “An uninvited spirit is here and may attach to your soul if you try to leave. The only way to prevent it is to put money in the basket as you walk out the door. The spirit will have to take the money to its spirit master before it can possess you.”
Tawny’s mouth dropped open. I smirked. Madame Iyå knew how to stay on point. No matter what happened, the woman kept her eye on the dollar. Tawny threw a bill into the basket, opened the front door, and left without a look back. Madame Iyå snatched the wad of cash from the basket and tucked it into her side pocket.
I leaned against the table. “Everything go according to plan?”
She studied me for a beat. “Each séance is different, depending on the energy in the room. There was a lot of restless anticipation tonight. Linda’s energy was open to accepting the spirits. Callia’s spirit used her to connect to you. I can help you decipher the meaning.”
“What do you think Linda was talking about?” I said.
“Callia.” Madame Iyå gave Jimmy an empty bag and told him to pack up. Then she turned to me. “Linda was speaking as Callia. I saw how you reacted. Whoever Callia is, she came to you for help. Let me guide you, while Callia’s spirit is close.”
“Actually, it sounded to me like she was talking about you and the spell book.”
“The spell book?” Madame Iyå said. “Sophie’s spirit gave instructions. She wants me to work with Nola and I will. Whatever Linda was channeling had to do with you, not me.”
Jimmy set two bags on the table and helped Madame Iyå put on her coat.
“So you’re going to publish Sophie’s spell book?” I said.
Jimmy stopped. Nola crossed the room to us.
Madame Iyå pulled her purse onto her shoulder and picked up one of the bags. “Of course I am. That’s what Sophie wanted. And that’s what we agreed on.”
I smiled. “Really. I know Professor Garfield would love to see the spell book. How about if we stop by tomorrow, and you can show it to him?”
She hesitated. “It’s not ready yet.”
“Oh, but Nick might be able to help you and Nola now that Sophie is gone. What time are you opening the store?”
“What do you know about Sophie’s spell book?” Jimmy took a step toward me.
“I only know what Madame Iyå already told me,” I said. “But I’m a little confused. I was under the impression that Sophie kept the spell book to herself before she died. But she gave it to you?”
Nola joined the edge of our group and faced Madame Iyå. “Did Sophie give you her spell book?”
“Well, I . . .” Madame Iyå looked away.
“I don’t think so. In fact, I think Madame Iyå was counting on getting the spell book from you, Nola,” I said. “Do you have it?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Nola turned to Madame Iyå. “No matter what you channeled Sophie to say.”
Madame Iyå narrowed her eyes. “That book belongs to me now. Sophie and I had a deal.”
“You did?” I faced Madame Iyå. “I think Sophie made other plans before she died.”
“We were partners. I have a right to it.” Madame Iyå’s earrings jangled as she tossed her head.
“That’s not what I heard Sophie tell you at the party,” I said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sophie and I agreed to publish that spell book together. We had a deal.” Madame Iyå pointed her finger at Nola. “And she wants you to help me finish it. Don’t listen to this stranger. That spell book can help your family.”
“Are you insane? Sophie had no right even showing it to you.” Nola pushed Madame Iyå’s finger away, then turned to me. “How do you know so much about the spell book?”
“I don’t,” I said. “But I have a feeling Madame Iyå set up the séance so she could get into this apartment and search for it.”
“That’s a lie,” Madame Iyå said.
“Is it?” I said. “Jimmy came out of Sophie’s room before the séance tonight. I suspect he was scouting for a few things to hand out for effect—like the violet sweater—while he hunted for the spell book. And when he didn’t find the book, you assumed Nola had it. Was Jimmy instructed to leave a window open so the wind could come through and slam the door shut—all to add to your little production? Nicely done, Madame Iyå. It’s a shame Linda interrupted so you couldn’t get what you came for.”
Madame Iyå put her face close to mine. Her face was crimson, eyes squinting. “You’ll be sorry you said that. I am not a fraud. There’s karma in the spirit world, honey. Unknown forces were here tonight—dark spirits. And dark spirits like to turn on lying doubters like you.” She left, with Jimmy following.
Chapter Twenty-three
I closed the apartment door and leaned against it. My nerves were doing a fast jig throughout my body. Inside of two days I was threatened by a spell book during a blackout, promised to help a door-slamming spirit, and was cursed by a fake seer. I needed a moment to catch my breath and clear my mind.
Nola stood in front of me with her arms crossed. “What do you know about the spell book, shrink?”
“I know that Madame Iyå and Sophie talked about publishing the spell book together,” I said. “Tuesday night at the party I overheard Sophie tell Madame Iyå that the deal was off.”
“That’s it?”
“I know Sophie was selling spells from the book.” I looked around Nola for Linda. She and Henry were on the sofa, talking.
Nola pulled my arm. “How do you know Sophie was selling spells?”
“I knew one of her customers,” I said.
“Oh no.” Nola dropped my arm and pushed the hair away from her face. “That person was an idiot to tell you. They have no clue how dangerous it is to talk about those spells.”
My heart froze. Buzzy was dead. “What do you mean?”
“The spells are cursed,” Nola said in a whisper.
“How?” I flashed on the spell book open on my bedroom floor. How to Imprison the Mind and Spirit of an Enemy.
“Drop it.”
“No, we can’t drop it,” I said. “Information in the spell book might connect to Sophie’s murder.”
“Not now. I can’t talk in front of them.” Nola looked across at Henry and Linda. “I want to make sure that Linda is okay. I don’t think she should be here alone tonight.”
“Because of what she said as Callia?” And then I got it. I took Nola’s wrist in my hand. “Callia is connected to the spell book and the curse.”
“Callia was the matriarch of my family.”
“Does Linda know that?”
“Only if Sophie told her. I used to think Sophie kept the secret—now I’m not so sure,” Nola said.
Henry got up and lent Linda his hand. They came toward us.
“I’m going to my boyfriend’s,” Linda said. “Henry and I were just talking about how strange it feels in here. He offered to have the apartment painted for us this weekend. I’ll stay at Gerard’s until it’s finished.”
“I’ll schedule the painters for Saturday morning.” Henry touched Linda’s shoulder and smiled. Small beads of sweat lined his creased brow.
“I’ll call Gerard right now. Don’t worry, Henry, I’ll be okay. You’re so sweet.” Linda kissed his cheek and went down the hall, into her bedroom.
“I’m going through Sophie’s things tonight, then,” Nola said. “If that spell book is still here . . .”
Henry flung a dismissive wave toward Sophie’s room. “Not tonight. Don’t upset Linda anymore. She doesn’t remember what happened to her tonight, and I didn’t tell her.”
“I’ll get the pink candle that Sophie wanted you to have,” Nola said.
He held up a hand. “I don’t want it.” He pointed a finger to his heart. “Maria is in here. With Sophie. I have my memories. I don’t need nothin’ else.”
Linda came back and gave Henry a phone number. “I’ll be at this number if you need to reach me. But I’ll come back tomorrow and help Nola pack Sophie’s room.”
He pocketed the paper and went to front door. “Don’t hang around here too long—any of you,” he said, looking at me. He saluted Linda and Nola. “Monday this apartment will feel like a brand-new place.”
Henry left. Linda went to her room to pack.
Nola started down the hall toward Sophie’s room. “I’m going to look for that spell book.”
“I’m going with you,” I said, grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses from the counter. “I’m not leaving until you tell me the whole story.”
“You are one nosy chick, shrink,” Nola said.
Sophie’s bedroom door was stuck. Nola jiggled the knob and pushed the door with her shoulder until it popped open. I followed her in. She turned on the light on the dresser. The window was closed.
I stopped short. If Jimmy didn’t open the window, what made the door slam during the séance? A draft from the hall would have swung the door open, not shut.
“Are you going to help me or what?” Nola said.
I set the glasses on the dresser and poured us each some wine. Nola downed half of hers in one gulp, then opened a dresser drawer and began to rummage through it.
“Can we agree to help each other for tonight? I’ll help you search while you tell me the story.” I slid my arm under the mattress, pretending to search for what I knew wasn’t there.
Nola searched the rest of the dresser drawers, then went to the closet, finishing her wine on the way. “I hope we’re the only two souls in here listening. Sure, I’ll tell you. It’s a family legend. I’ve heard it from my old man so many times that I can recite it from memory.”
I took the violet sweater off the drawer pull and set it aside.
Nola pushed the clothing in the closet apart and talked as she went through the shoe boxes on the floor. “Callia was my great-great-great-grandmother, born in Haiti in the 1840s. Her father was a French plantation owner. Her mother was an African slave who practiced Vodou in secret while the missionaries tried to convert the slaves on the island to Catholicism.
“Callia was half French so she was schooled at the white French academy. She hated it. She adored her mother and wanted to learn the Vodoun culture, but the missionaries kept Callia isolated on her father’s orders.”
I got on my knees and looked under the bed. Dust.
“When Callia got older, she snuck out to the mountains at night to watch the Vodoun tribal rituals practiced by her mother—totally something that I would do,” Nola said. “And when she came back to the plantation, Callia would secretly write out the spells into a leather-bound book so she wouldn’t forget them. The missionaries caught on and knew they couldn’t harness Callia’s wild spirit—I love that about her. They told her father, and he got so pissed that he forced Callia into an arranged marriage with a French merchant from Louisiana. She was only fifteen when her husband dragged her to the United States with him, the old lech.”
“To New Orleans?” I said.
“Yeah,” Nola said, opening the drawer in the nightstand. “Callia smuggled her spell book with her, tucked in the folds of silk lingerie and linens the merchant bought for her boudoir. She bore him two daughters. He traveled a lot, and while he was away, Callia practiced the rituals and spells from her spell book. Her husband caught her, but she refused to give up Vodou even when he threatened to take away the children and have her committed for practicing black magic. The more he threatened, the more protective she became of the spell book and the spells in it. Eventually, her husband ran off with some white showgirl and abandoned Callia and their two daughters alone in a house in the French Quarter. Callia needed money. She began to sell spells to people she trusted. The spells worked, and more people came to her, but Callia was convinced she’d be arrested and separated from her children if she was caught. That’s when Callia created the curse. She didn’t understand New Orleans was filled with voodoo practitioners at the time. She only remembered the missionaries separating her from her mother in Haiti.”
