Rock 'n' Roll is Undead (Veronica Mason (23 page)

“If you find out who bought it, will you let me know? You know how to find me.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He paused and stared up at me again.

“Maybe you could ask around,” I said.

“What do you want it for anyway? Don’t you still have that sweet Bel-Air?”

Sometimes being part of a little sub-culture was unsettling. People knew way more about me than I wanted them to. More than I was comfortable with.

“Yes, I still have it. My dad is looking for another car to restore. I thought that one would be perfect.”

The lie slipped from my lips easily.

“Hey, if he’s looking for something, I could probably find him a good car. I don’t charge much of a finder’s fee.” He wiped excess ink off the guys arm, then resumed his work. I stared down at one of the tattoos on Red’s arm. It was a sword, or a dagger, not sure which, with blood dripping from it. A disturbing sight, considering what I’d been through. I’d have to remember not to come to this guy for a tattoo. He was a snake—I sensed it. I needed to get out of there.

Chapter 43

At least the trip hadn’t been a complete waste. My mouth probably dropped when he told me who had owned the car. So, more than likely, the bass player had known his killer. They say it’s usually someone close to you who commits the crime. I wondered who knew all the victims. Someone within the music business was the only link I could think of and I hoped the police had figured that out as well. Had the person who bought his car been the killer? It would make sense. But now this car was following me and that was bad. Not good at all.

The humid night air hit me as I hurried out of the shop. I could have sworn I heard the men laughing as I left. I didn’t turn around to find out. What a jerk. I had no idea why he was so rude. Did he treat everyone that way? Not the best business practice, in my opinion.

After leaving the tattoo shop, I headed down the sidewalk, but something caught my attention right away. A neon red sign blinked, advertising tarot and palm readings. If I couldn’t manage the visions on my own, perhaps someone else could. How much credence I could place with a psychic reading, I wasn’t sure, but I’d give it a shot. I’d had accurate readings in the past. Then again, I’d had readings that would make nine hundred number fortune-tellers seem gifted.

The cool air blasted against my face as I pushed the old wooden door and entered the shop. Blues music with its haunting lyrics and melodic lilting voice played in the background. The front section of the store was devoted to Voodoo paraphernalia. It covered every available surface of the walls and every shelf; it was hard to focus with so much stuff. Items hung from the ceiling, too. Voodoo dolls, masks, gris-gris bags, herbs, and incense, plus things I’d never seen before. My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I made my way through. I scanned the area, but didn’t see another soul.

“Come in, child. Don’t just stand there. Your feet are gonna hurt from da heels. Have a seat.”

I jumped and clutched my chest as I looked over my shoulder. I hadn’t realized anyone was sitting behind the counter. With so much stuff, the woman was camouflaged, kind of like E.T. in the closet with the stuffed animals. The table she motioned toward was at the back of the room. She rounded the corner of the counter and approached me.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You got too much on your mind. If you want a readin’, then follow me.”

I never told her I wanted a reading. Was I that obvious?

I followed her as she shuffled down the aisle. Her lavender tank top revealed skinny tanned arms and her long, white flowing skirt dragged the ground as she made her way toward the table. She had a warm, crooked smile and a lifetime full of wrinkles surrounded her kind eyes.

She pulled out the chair next to the table and said, “Sit. Now do you want palm or tarot reading?”

“I want you to use the crystal ball.” I looked at the clear globe on the table and back to her.

She hesitated, eyeing me up and down, then nodded. “Fine. Fine.” She patted the seat again and I reluctantly eased down. “Don’t many people ask for it. I got it as show, you know. The tourists like to see it. But you ain’t a tourist now, are you?”

“No, ma’am, I’m not.”

My gaze was drawn to a sign on the wall above her head. It read: Voodoo unto others before they voodoo unto you. I grinned. A skull rested on a small shelf above the table. The sight of it sparked a flash of the mystery hot rod in my head and wiped the grin right off my face.

“So tell me what you want to know, child.”

“What do you see?” I asked.

She was silent as she gazed into the ball. For a moment, I wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

Just when I contemplated shaking her to see if she’d died, she raised her head, opened her eyes, and said, “You are in danger.” She gazed into the ball again, then frowned, deepening the lines on her face. “Beware of the music man. He likes dark magic. And blood.”

I was pretty sure my face turned white. At least I felt as if the color had drained from my cheeks. My muscles went limp and I wondered if I’d be able to walk out of the place. She’d spoken the same words that had flashed in my mind during my spell. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Who is the music man?” I choked out.

She closed her eyes again, then her lids sprang open and she glared at me. “I don’t know.”

“What? What do you mean you don’t know?”

She was worse than me. And here I thought I was a half-assed witch. She had me beat; I was actually better than her.

“He’s all in black. Black pants, black shirt, and black mask.” She shrugged. “I can’t help what I see. You should know that.” Was she insulting my witchy ability, too?

“But it is a he?”

“I sense male, yes.”

“Thank you,” I said as I stood and pushed the chair under the table.

“Listen to what I say, child, you hear?”

“I will. Thank you.”

I paused.

“There is something I found. I don’t practice Voodoo, so my knowledge is limited. Can you tell me?” I pulled the doll from my pocket.

She took it from my hand. “Where did you find this?” Her frown lines deepened.

“Beside my house.”

“Uh-huh. You know, if someone harms out of spite, karma will come back to them even worse. I’ll get rid of this.” She placed it behind the counter before I had a chance to dispute.

The old bell on the wooden door jingled announcing another customer. I turned to see who’d entered. It was probably a tourist looking to take home a Voodoo doll as a gag gift. Little did they know those gag gifts could turn on them.

“Lucinda, are you all right? Where you been?” The psychic asked the woman.

I eyed the woman as she approached. Her appearance was definitely eccentric—auburn-colored, tousled hair and lots of jewelry. I guessed her age at sixty-five, but it was hard to be sure. Her black jeans hugged her curves, highlighting her shapely legs. The dark tank top she wore matched perfectly and revealed her tan, toned arms. Whatever she did was working. I needed whatever magic lotion she used.

“Who’s this doll?” She smiled while tousling her hair and eyeing me.

“She’s come for a reading, dear. She requested the crystal ball,” she informed her with a wink.

Did she think I couldn’t see the wink? Apparently, they thought I was blind. There was a strange glance between the two as if they’d discussed me before—I sensed it. But was I letting my imagination get the better of me? Did they know about the vampires? If they did, I guess I couldn’t blame them for talking; I probably would have talked about me, too. But how did they know it was me? They couldn’t have. Once again, my mind was over-reacting.

“Oh darlin’, aren’t you sweet? Pretty, too. I’d die for your complexion. What’s your name, doll?” Lucinda gazed at the top of my head and didn’t stop until she reached my feet. I shifted, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

I looked at the psychic and then at the woman. “Um, Veronica Mason.”

“Nice to meet you, Veronica. I’m Lucinda Landry.”

The psychic spoke up. “She wears many hats around this town but her finest, by far, is Medium. She talks to dead people.”

Chapter 44

I eyed Lucinda suspiciously. Why were they telling me this? Just being friendly perhaps? Nah, they didn’t have the friendliest faces I’d ever seen. Grandma Annie knew all the psychics. I’d have to ask her about Lucinda. There were quite a few psychics in our area and a handful of others who had the special supernatural talent in the next county over. Was Lucinda new to our paranormal community? News of strangers moving into the Memphis district spread like a bad case of poison ivy, but somehow I’d been excluded from this conversation. I should get out more. When I wasn’t playing, I stayed home and moped over my lack of witch skills too much.

“Nice to meet you.” I reached out to shake her graceful hand.

She wore silver rings with an array of colored stones and gems on all fingers. Even more jewelry graced her wrists and neck.

“You talk to dead people?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m a medium.” She grinned. “I speak to those who’ve crossed over and those who are stuck in between. Like that John Edward fellow.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the term.” Interesting. Maybe she didn’t know what I was after all. I shuffled my feet, not knowing what else to say. I just wanted to get out of there. The air grew more oppressive by the minute. Soon it would reach out, clasp its hands around my neck, and squeeze.

“You have two spirits here with you tonight,” she said matter-of-factly. Her lips jerked at the corners, as if proud of her insight.

“I do?” I looked up at her.

Was she full of it? Or a true medium?

“An older man and woman are standing right behind you, doll.” She leaned her hip against the counter. “They are smiling, by the way.” She twiddled her fingers absently.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw only candles and incense. But since I wasn’t a medium, what had I expected to see?

“The short dark-haired woman says she gave you a necklace right before she died.”

I gasped. “She told you that?”

Perhaps she was the real deal? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. I definitely needed to ask Grandma Annie about her.

“I’m a medium, dear.” She laughed. “It’s my job to know these things.” Hmm. It was my job to be a witch; it didn’t mean I knew what I was doing.

“My grandmother on my father’s side gave me a necklace right before she died.”

The psychic glanced up from her tarot cards occasionally, but she didn’t appear to pay much attention to the conversation. But I knew their tricks. She wanted me to think she wasn’t interested.

“A silver chain with a silver and black pendant?” Lucinda asked.

“Yes, that’s the one. I don’t wear it often. I’m afraid I’ll lose it.”

“Your grandmother says you should wear it more. She gave it to you to wear and use, not stick in some drawer. It will help with your powers, she said.”

There was no way she could have known the details of the necklace. Plus, her words sounded exactly like something my grandmother would say. And she did know of my powers. But did she know how little of them I had?

“There’s a man here with my grandmother, too?” I asked.

She nodded and tousled her hair again.

“What does he look like?” I asked.

“Small frame and skinny with very little hair—what he has is gray. His name starts with the letter A.” She rubbed the sides of her head.

“Yep. That’s my grandfather, Arnold.” Maybe I shouldn’t have offered details. That was the first mistake when talking to so-called psychics. But she appeared to be the real deal.

“He has a message for you. He says: keep at it, you can do it. I have faith in you.”

Tears welled in my eyes. He always had believed in me, even when others had their doubts.

“He’s wearing dark overalls and a flannel shirt,” Lucinda said.

I wiped the edge of my eyes and nodded. “He always wore overalls. He liked to work in his garden. My grandma had to force him to dress up for special occasions. She’d threaten him with not making her delicious apple pies.”

Lucinda chuckled. “She said she still has to threaten him.”

“So you’re new in town?” I asked. I wouldn’t tell her about my paranormal status. Maybe she knew already.

“Yes, we just bought a cabin on the outskirts of town. Over on Highway Sixteen.”

“Oh. We?” I wanted more information because I knew Grandma Annie would want to know.

“Moved here from Georgia and I’m loving it. I’m a Georgia peach turned Blues gal.” She laughed.

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard about your many hats. Word spreads kind of quickly around town, don’t you think?”

“Well, I think she’s the only one who knows about the many hats.” She gestured toward the psychic. “She doesn’t tell just anyone, you know?” She winked.

I nodded. But why was I privy to this information? I hadn’t even asked to be.

“Veronica, you take care of yourself and listen to what your grandmother said about the necklace. It won’t help you unless you wear it.” She patted my arm.

She must have sensed my need to leave. The air didn’t ease up and I felt I might choke at any moment.

“I’ll remember. And thanks for telling me,” I said.

I wished I knew why she acted so comfortable around me. Why she acted as if we were old friends when I’d just met her. I should have asked more questions.

“Here’s my number if you ever need to talk.” She scribbled on a piece of paper. “Call me.”

She picked up a couple candles and placed cash on the counter, then headed toward the front of the store. I tucked the paper in my pocket.

“Don’t forget, if you need any information, call me.” She glided out the door as mysteriously as she’d entered.

After contemplating Lucinda’s words for a few seconds, I snapped out of my reverie. I placed the cash on the table and made my way out the door. Sometimes it was good to have information and sometimes it was better not knowing. As I hurried down the sidewalk, I glanced back. The old woman was observing me from the shop window. Her expression was vacant, as if she was watching, but wasn’t really there. The red flashing sign blanketed her face in an eerie red glow. Lucinda was nowhere in sight.