Bad Mojo: The Complete Series by Sharon A. Austin

Author:Sharon A. Austin [Austin, Sharon A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-05-16T21:00:00+00:00

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BJ awoke with a start. She couldn’t recall setting the alarm clock for ten. Couldn’t recall lying down on the bed. She shut off the annoying buzzer. About to curl up and go back to sleep, she remembered she had to be somewhere at noon.

Lightheaded and tired, she managed to get dressed.

Hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

Scheduled to do a reading, she arrived at the library on time only to find out that a water pipe had burst and flooded the women’s bathroom. They were forced to close the building for the day. Grateful to have the afternoon off, she walked to a little mom’n pop style café one block over. Glanced at the sign on the door advertising free Wi-Fi. Walked up to the counter, and ordered coffee in a go-cup.

She sat in a corner where filtered daylight streaming through the windows didn’t reach her laptop. Brought up her story. The words were already in her head. But sitting in a public place with people continually coming and going, she worried they’d make her forget what she’s going to say. She typed fast, ignoring misspelled words.

<>

Alma tracked down the home of Chief of Police Harry Dalton. Arrived at the police station later that afternoon, just in time to catch him leaving. Remaining at a safe distance she followed him. He drove to his house without making any detours. She turned at the next street. Left her car in the shady lot of a nearby city park where she had a clear view of his house. Leaned her shoulder against a wide tree trunk. Watched the gardener leave. Watched the housekeeper drive away an hour or so later. Observed no one else entering or leaving his property in between. Pushing away from the tree, she glimpsed at her shoulder to find an ant crawling across it. She flicked it off with a thumb and forefinger. Then thought of Bernie. Thought about the god-awful brown dress mamma made him wear. Thought about the old elm near the barn, his moss gatherer.

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BJ gasped, dropped her hands in her lap. Felt anger welling up inside. She shook her head. This didn’t happen in Alma’s life! She deleted the parts about her brother and mamma.

<>

As darkness fell, Alma abandoned her car. Trotted to the far side of an overgrown flowering bush where the thin branches scraped the white vinyl siding with every light breeze. She looked in a window, and saw him sitting alone at the head of an expandable dining table. He held a folded newspaper in one hand and a fork in the other; his reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose. The sight of the food made her stomach growl. A memory of the thing wrapped in aluminum foil in the center of the kitchen table at the farmhouse squashed the feeling.

<>

Annoyed with herself, BJ deleted everything from his reading glasses onward. Those are Frank’s glasses, and they don’t belong in this story. The rest of this shit didn’t happen to Alma, anyway.

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