Hoodoo You Think Done It by Love Kathy

Author:Love, Kathy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Old Opera House Publishing
Published: 2023-01-31T00:00:00+00:00

On the walk home, I still pondered Marly’s reaction. What reason could she have to be nervous to see me? I replayed our conversation from my visit to the salon. She did mention that she wanted to open her own salon. Could that be it? Could Marly and Blaine be in cahoots to kill poor Vivian for the money? I had no doubt her grandson was in the will. And money was always a big motivator. They definitely had to be added to my list.

As I approached my house, I was surprised to see Wyatt sitting on the porch. I’d seen him more in the past few days than I sometimes did in a week or two. Wyatt usually worked long hours. As amazing a city as New Orleans was, it was a crime-ridden one, too. He rose from his patio chair as soon as he saw me.

“Hi,” I said, unable to keep the curiosity out of my expression. I walked up the steps, stopping on the top one. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, although I could tell from his expression, he hadn’t been just hanging out, relaxing. He’d been waiting for me. I wasn’t sure if I should be pleased or nervous. My guess was nervous.

“Hey there. I just wanted to let you know I took the mugs you had out here last night.” He pointed to a white paper bag on my patio table that I assumed now held said mugs. “I had them dusted for fingerprints.”

“Oh, okay.” I didn’t even remember that I’d left the mugs out on the porch. And from his expression I didn’t get the feeling that whatever he discovered was good. Was this Baron guy a known criminal or something? Was he dangerous?

“Did you touch both mugs?” he asked.

“Yes. I poured both mugs and carried them out here.”

He nodded. “And you are sure he touched the one you gave him?”

“Yes, he definitely touched it. He drank all his coffee.”

Wyatt pursed his lips, his expression grim. “We only found one set of prints on the mugs.”

I stared at him, not really following.

“Emerson, I have to assume they are your prints. And there were no others on them.”

I shook my head. “So, did his prints get smudged or something? And that’s why you couldn’t get a good one?”

“No.” He shook his head. “The prints we got were clean. There were no other signs that anyone even handled the mugs other than you.”

“Well, that can’t be,” I said, feeling oddly defensive. “He definitely touched the mug.”

Wyatt gave me an almost regretful look. “There wasn’t any. Just yours.”

I remained rooted to the top step, trying to process what he was telling me. He left no fingerprints. And no one to date had seen him but me.

I shook my head again, this time to shake away where my thoughts were going. No, this guy was real. He was not what he said he was. He was not some voodoo god, invisible to everyone but me. And he was not a figment of my imagination.

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