I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. Setting down the pen, which I’d begun to grip so hard my knuckles turned white, I traced my fingertip along the star’s sectors, coming to rest directly at the center of the pentagram. There was a landmark there, marked in tiny font that made my blood run cold.
Broad Street Cemetery.
I’d been there before, years ago. It wasn’t far from the center of town, but it was slightly off the beaten track; not as popular amongst the tourists as The Burying Point where Eliza’s body was found, but still historically relevant, since a handful of important Witch Trial era figures were entombed there. The longer I stared at the small green patch on the map, the greater my sense of foreboding. Cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck and a shiver moved down my spine.
There must be a reason this location was at the center of the Heretic’s macabre pentagram of sacrifices. Whatever they were planning for Samhain… chances were, it would happen there. I needed to tell Graham ASAP, the minute I saw him. This was a clue. A real, tangible clue, the first we’d had in a while. Maybe the clue we needed to crack the whole case wide open!
I was staring so intently at the map, I didn’t hear Hetti approach. When she spoke, she was directly beside me, so near I almost jumped out of my skin.
“What’s that?”
“Shit!” My hand flew to my heart. “You scared me!”
The barista’s eyes were still locked on the pamphlet. The pentagram I’d sketched out was clearly visible, the dark ink a bold contrast to the colorful map. “What is that, boss?”
“Oh. Um… nothing really. I was just doodling.”
“Doodling,” she murmured, finally looking at me. Her expression was dubious.
“Um. Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “Anyway, you’re free to go home for the night. Hunter and Holden are grabbing those boxes of books from the storeroom so I can restock. I can handle the rest of the clean-up.”
“Are you still going to your party?”
“Yep, I’m heading straight there after I change into my costume.” I paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? It’s going to be fun, I promise.”
I’d been trying — and failing — for days to convince Hetti to attend Florence and Desmond’s party.
“Pass.”
“Suit yourself.” I grinned at her, but it felt weak. My head was still spinning. It took effort to keep my eyes from moving to the map again. “Have a good night, Hetti.”
“I think I will,” she said rather mysteriously. “Goodbye, Gwen.”
She took the trash with her when she left — goddess, she really needed a raise — and I headed into the back room. I passed by Hunter and Holden — each carrying a heavy box of books like it weighed no more than a feather — as I went.
“I’m going to change, then we can head out,” I informed them. “You know, there’s still time for you guys to pull together a costume. There are like three Halloween stores on the way to the townhouse. Oh, I know! Maybe we can get one of those tandem dog suits so you can be Scooby! One of you will be the head, the other the butt…” I trailed off at the frosty looks this suggestion received. “Fine, fine. No costumes for you. No need to scowl at me.”
They kept walking.
“Just set those by the bestseller table,” I tasked, pausing on the threshold of the storeroom. “If you get the urge to restock in my absence, make sure to put the book on moon phases by the front. It’s selling like hotcakes.”
They were silent. Apparently, moon phases weren’t their thing. But I heard a thud as the boxes hit the floor, and grinned as I saw them beginning to unload the glossy hardcovers.
“Thanks, boys!” I called. “You know, if things don’t work out with the whole PI gig, you can work here. My payroll probably isn’t competitive with your brother’s, but you can’t deny, The Gallows is way safer than Gravewatch.”
Two low grunts drifted back at me as the twins continued to arrange the books in orderly rows on my display table.
Stifling a giggle, I stepped into the back room and prepared for my transformation into Daphne Blake, girl detective and fashion icon. But even as I changed into my long sleeved purple dress, green neck scarf, lilac headband, and knee-high go-go boots, my thoughts were on the map I’d shoved into my purse for safekeeping. On Broad Street Cemetery. On what would potentially unfold there in ten short days.
And that invisible web of danger around me seemed to tighten all the more.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The holy water is supposed to hiss when it hits your skin, right?
- Gwen Goode, asking for a friend
The streets were a veritable mob scene, more crowded than I’d ever seen them. It was Friday night and the countdown to Halloween had officially begun. I kept between Hunter and Holden, the center of a badass sandwich, as we started walking toward the townhouse, my head whipping back and forth as I took in the utter pandemonium erupting all around me.