“I do not concern myself with what a weak figure such as Mickey O'Banion does or does not do.” Zelda waved one hand dismissively. “He is naught but a nuisance; an unenlightened bug to be squashed if it flies too close to my face.”
Flo and I traded another loaded glance.
“Now then...” Zelda pushed to her feet in a swirl of lime green fabric. “If the jewelry is what you came here for, I’m sorry to say you’ll be leaving disappointed. I have a busy morning of meditation ahead, so if you don’t mind….” She gestured toward the front door with her teacup, making it clear she wanted us to walk through it and never return.
“Are you ever coming back to the shop?” I asked, rising off the sofa with a screech of springs. “Or should I start advertising for a replacement psychic?”
Zelda studied me for a beat. “Your choices are your own.”
“And if Mickey O'Banion comes after Gwen again?” Flo half-growled. “What then, huh? Don’t you feel at all guilty for dragging her into this?”
“As I stated before…” The psychic shrugged. “I have nothing else to say on this matter.”
“Listen here, you crazy old bi—”
The rest of Flo’s sentence cut off as Hecate began to screech, a piercing cry of alarm several decibels louder than any of her previous squawks, drawing all our attention to the window.
“Enemy at the gates,” the parrot cawed, flapping her bold blue wings in warning as her head cocked to the side. “Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!”
A half-second later, the piercing toll of the doorbell filled the apartment. Someone was at Zelda’s front door. Slamming down her teacup on the side-table, she whirled on me, murky blue eyes flashing with anger as her pointy acrylic nails sank into the flesh of my long-sleeved black turtleneck sweater.
“Ow!” I exclaimed.
“Who else did you bring here?” She shook me —hard. “Who, damn you?”
“No one!” I stepped back, trying to escape her grip, but she held fast. She was surprisingly strong. I guess those flowy caftans were hiding a fair bit of muscle. “I swear, Zelda, it’s just the two of us—”
“Then you were followed,” she said, spittle flying from her lips. “You’ve led them right to me!”
The doorbell came again, an insistent knell, this time accompanied by the pounding of a fist on the door. Zelda stared into my eyes, wrath written all over here face, and hissed a single word that made all the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Mickey.”
“Maybe it’s not him,” I reasoned hopefully. “Maybe it’s someone who works for the census.”
Flo snorted. “Right.”
“Or,” I went on blithely. “A delivery guy with a package! Order anything lately? Maybe some of that enzymatic stain and odor eliminator for your carpet?”
Zelda opened her mouth to respond, but before she had a chance, a man’s violent roar ripped up the stairwell and through the front door of the apartment.
“ZELDA! OPEN UP, YOU FUCKING BITCH! DON’T MAKE ME KNOCK THIS DOOR DOWN!”
Hellfire.
Chapter Sixteen
People who give out apples instead of candy are the scariest monsters on Halloween.
- Gwen Goode, stocking up on snack-size chocolate bars
My eyes flew to Zelda’s face.
“O'Banion,” she whispered, paling slightly as her fears were confirmed. Her fingernails dug more sharply into my arm as her expression morphed from fear to rage. “You led him right to me, you idiot!”
“How was I supposed to know I was being followed?” I cried, struggling against the stinging grip. “Zelda, you’re hurting me!”
“Good!” she snapped.