This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2)(20)

“Excuse me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m not a shady criminal so I don’t know how this works.”

He looked like he wanted to argue and honestly, I was ready. First thing I was gonna roast him for was his ugly-ass pajamas.

“Phillip,” Marie said; her voice had returned to a singsong pitch. “What’s that?” She pointed to a shelf strewn with various objects: a large gold plate, a cylindrical clay vase, several chipped and broken cups, and two identical glass jars. Marie went to the shelf and turned back to Phillip. “If this is what I think it is—”

“It’s not!” he shouted way louder than was necessary.

I huffed. “I don’t know what y’all are talking about, but he’s lying.” Anybody who hollered out an answer like that was not telling the whole truth. I’d initially felt bad for him but the only reason we were there was because we were trying to find a way to get my mom back and Phillip had sold a valuable piece of the puzzle. I was starting to lose my patience.

Circe joined Marie at the shelf and examined the twin glass jars, turning them over in her hands. “They’re replicas?” she asked.

Marie held each jar, testing its weight in her hand. She held it up, allowing the overhead light to filter through it. Phillip shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

“One is real,” Marie said. “And the other is a very good forgery.” She swept over to Phillip, picking him up by the front of his nightshirt until his feet dangled above the ground. “You’ve been making and selling forgeries?”

Phillip kicked at Marie. “Put me down!”

I quickly went to Marie’s side and put my hand on her shoulder. I thought she might toss this dude right out the window, but we still needed answers. “Wait. Just hold on.”

He said nothing but whimpered as Marie set him back down. She still kept a death grip on his shirt front, but she allowed him to gather himself.

“Did you sell the real pottery shard or a forgery?” I asked.

Marie tensed her arm.

“Stop! Okay! It was a forgery!”

Circe leaned close to him. “Does that mean you still have the original?”

Phillip’s gaze darted around the room. “It’s in the back.”

Marie glanced down the hall, then back to Phillip. “I should fold you in half and put you in a suitcase. Then I should take the suitcase and run it over with my car.”

“Please!” Phillip screamed. “I’m sorry!”

Circe brushed past and headed for the door at the end of the short hallway. “We’re gonna get you some anger management, boo,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll pay for it.”

Marie grinned, but her eyes were like two empty sockets. She pushed Phillip down onto the couch and curled her hand into a fist, bringing it down right on top of his balding dome. He slumped to the side, and his eyes rolled back until only the whites showed.

“Night, night, sweet prince,” Marie said.

I clapped my hand over my mouth. I knew I shouldn’t laugh, but Marie was making that impossible. Phillip was doing some shady stuff, so maybe he deserved it—at least a little bit. I was just happy Marie didn’t murder him right there.

“Y’all come look at this,” Circe called.

Marie and I left the unconscious Phillip in the living room and went down the hall. The door to the rear room stood open, but I could see that it was made of metal and had at least three locks. Inside the back room, it was a full twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the house. The windows were boarded up with thick sheets of plywood, and the only light was coming from a lamp in the corner. Four or five tables stood all around, fitted together like puzzle pieces, and atop them lay dozens of ancient-looking artifacts and an equal number of what I assumed were identical forgeries.

I scanned the tables and finally found what we were looking for. The broken shard lay among several others that had yet to be fully copied. Circe gently lifted it up as Marie took out her phone and dialed a number.

“Alec,” Marie said. “We’re here. We—wait—were you asleep?”

Alec grumbled something into the phone.

Marie sighed. “Sir, if you don’t wake up right now”—she rolled her eyes—“I’m going to call you on video. Just hit the green button.” She switched over to a video call, and Alec’s right eye appeared on the screen.

“Please back up off the camera for the love of Black baby Jesus,” Marie said.

Circe carefully laid the pottery shard back down, and Marie put her phone close to it.

“Can you see it?” she asked.

“Yes,” Alec said.

I stood next to Marie, staring down at the object. The pottery itself was a faded orange color, but the images on it were painted in shiny black with accents of white and gold. It had several deep cracks running along its surface where it appeared to have been glued back together. The remnants of a painted man in a hat and winged sandals carrying a staff adorned the piece of ancient pottery. He looked on as another man holding a small stringed instrument stood aboard a ship with several other people. A rugged coastline jutted out behind them in a familiar pattern … four long protrusions. Directly ahead of them lay a small island and three rocky outcroppings surrounded by what I could only describe as mermaids—bare-breasted figures with tails like fish.