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THE SAME SONG

“Dammit!” Will stubbed his cigarette hard into the ashtray. The four of them—Evie, Jericho, Sam, and Will—sat at one of the library’s long tables. Will had closed the museum early despite the crowds clamoring for tours of the supernatural led by Manhattan’s foremost expert on the occult. “He’s just going to keep killing, and we’ll always be one step behind him.”

“We don’t have to be,” Evie said. She held Will’s gaze. “I can find out what we need to know.”

“How would you do that?” Jericho asked.

“With this.” Evie placed Gabe’s rabbit’s foot on the table.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You intend to catch a killer with a hunk of dead fur?”

“It belonged to Gabriel Johnson. It was on him the night he died.” Evie looked at Will. “Unc, I can read it. I know I can. Just give me a chance.”

“Read what?” Jericho asked.

Will glowered. “Where did you get that?”

“From a friend of his.”

Will shook his head. “It’s too dangerous, Evangeline.”

Evie leaped up from her seat and pounded a fist on the table. She’d had it with Will’s reluctance. They’d tried it his way, and all they had to show for it was another dead body. “It’s too dangerous not to at least try!”

Jericho looked to Sam, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know from nothing,” Sam said.

“There’s a killer out there and we have to stop him, any way we can,” Evie pleaded. “Please.”

“This is madness,” Will whispered. He raked a hand through his hair.

“Will somebody tell me what’s going on?” Jericho said.

“I’m a Diviner,” Evie said.

“Evangeline!”

“They might as well know, Unc! I’m tired of keeping it a secret.” She turned back to Jericho and Sam. “I can read objects. A ring, a letter opener, a glove—they’re more than just things to me. Give me your watch and I might be able to tell you what you had for dinner… or I could tell you your deepest secrets. It just depends.” She looked to Will again. “What do you say, Unc?”

His hands behind his back, Will walked a full lap of the library. He stopped beside Evie, looking at her for an uncomfortably long time. “We will do this in a controlled manner. Do you understand?”

“Anything you say, Unc.”

“I will guide you. Do not go too far under, Evangeline. You are to remain detached. A spectator.”

“I’ll see what I can find and let go.”

“If you feel the least bit threatened, you are to drop it immediately.”

“I’m on the trolley, Unc.”

“I’m glad somebody is,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“It will become evident in just a moment,” Will answered. “Evie, come have a seat.”

Evie settled into a leather club chair.

“Comfortable?” Will asked.

“Yes.” Her heart beat quickly and her mouth was dry. She hoped she was ready for this.

“Remember, if you feel at all frightened…”

“I understand, Will,” Evie assured him.

“Will, is this safe?” Jericho asked.

“I’ll keep her safe,” Will assured him. “You may begin whenever you’re ready, Evie.”

Will placed the rabbit’s foot in her waiting hands. Evie closed her eyes and felt along the seams of it, waiting. Come on, she thought. Please… It took a few seconds for the connection, but once it was made, pictures of Gabe’s day came at her in a dizzying jumble. It was like Evie had plunged into a cold lake and was splashing her way up to the surface. “I can’t… I can’t make them out….”



“Slow down. Take your time. Breathe and concentrate,” Will instructed.

Evie’s breathing slowed. She could hear that and the gentle coursing of her blood. The earlier, inconsequential scenes of Gabriel’s day were gone. She was with him on the night-gloomy streets of Harlem. The scene had a haze to it, like a photograph not fully developed, but she could make out Gabriel walking under the El tracks, and she could feel what he felt.

“He’s angry about something….” Evie said haltingly.

“Not too close,” Will warned.

Evie took another deep breath. The street became a little less hazy as she concentrated. The flicker of distant neon, even the smell of smoke and garbage began to come alive in her mind. She heard the tread of footsteps, a strange hollow clicking.

“Someone’s following him.”

“Careful, Evie.”

“It’s gotten very foggy all of a sudden, but there’s someone there.” She saw the walking stick first, a silver thing with the head of a wolf. The man carrying it was still shrouded in shadow and mist. Gabe called out, and, hearing nothing, kept walking under the great shadow of the elevated tracks. Evie could only see what he saw. But she could hear the slow, deliberate footsteps on the street. She felt Gabe’s first stab of apprehension. And then she heard the whistling.

Evie gasped. “It’s the same song!”

“Evie, time to stop,” Will instructed, but Evie wasn’t about to stop yet. She was close. So very close.

Footsteps. Close. One, two, click. One, two, click. The stick glinted in the mist. “It’s him. He’s coming….”

“Evie. Stop,” Will commanded.

Evie clutched the rabbit’s foot tightly. The man stepped from the shadows and Evie’s pulse accelerated. “I see him!”

“Evie, stop!” Will thundered. He clapped loudly several times and the trance was broken. Evie dropped the charm and blinked, her eyes watering.

“I know him! I’ve seen him before!” Evie said.

She ran to their vast collection of notes and files, pushing aside papers until she found what she was after. Her stomach was fluttery with excitement and incomprehension. “It’s him,” she said, slapping the newspaper photograph of John Hobbes onto the table. “The man under the bridge was John Hobbes. Gabriel Johnson was murdered by a dead man.”


Date: 2015-02-03; view: 610


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