The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires(81)

“What if we’re wrong?” Patricia said. “I thought I saw him doing something to Destiny Taylor years ago, but it was dark. What if I was wrong? What if her mother did have a boyfriend and lied about it? We both think we saw Miss Mary, we both believe this is a picture of James Harris, but what if it’s just someone who looks like him?”

Mrs. Greene pulled the picture over to her with two fingers and looked at it again.

“A no-good man will tell you he’s going to change,” she said. “He’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, but you’re the fool if you don’t believe what you see. That’s him in this picture. That was Miss Mary who whispered to us. Everybody may be telling me different, but I know what I know.”

“What if he doesn’t keep trophies?” Patricia asked, trying to slow things down.

“Then there’s nothing there to find,” Mrs. Greene said.

“You’ll get arrested,” Patricia said.

“It’d go faster with two of us,” Mrs. Greene said.

“It’s against the law,” Patricia said.

“You turned your back on me once before,” Mrs. Greene said, and her eyes blazed. Patricia wanted to look anywhere else but she couldn’t move. “You turned your back on me and now he’s come for your children. You’re out of time. It’s too late to find excuses.”

“I’m sorry,” Patricia said.

“I don’t want your sorry,” Mrs. Greene said. “I want to know if you’ll come in his house and help me look.”

Patricia couldn’t say yes. She had never broken a law in her life. It went against everything in her body. It went against everything she’d lived for forty years. If she got caught she would never be able to look Carter in the eye again, she’d lose Blue, and she’d lose Korey. How could she raise the children and tell them to obey the law if she didn’t?

“When?” she asked.

“This coming weekend he’s going to Tampa,” Mrs. Greene said. “I need to know if you’re serious or not.”

“I’m sorry,” Patricia said.

Mrs. Greene’s face screwed itself shut.

“I need to get my sleep,” she said, starting to stand up.

“No, wait, I’ll go,” Patricia said.

“I don’t have time for you to play,” Mrs. Greene said.

“I’ll go,” Patricia said.

Mrs. Greene walked her to the front door. At the door, Patricia stopped.

“How could we have seen Miss Mary?” she asked.

“She’s burning in Hell,” Mrs. Greene said. “I asked my minister and he says that’s where ghosts come from. They burn in Hell and they can’t go into the cool, healing waters of the River Jordan until they let go of this world. Miss Mary suffers the torments of Hell because she wants to warn you. She burns because she loves her grandchildren.”

Patricia’s blood felt heavy in her veins..

“I think it’s her, too,” Patricia said, and she tried one last time to stop all this talk of ghosts, and men who didn’t age, and to erase the image of James Harris in the back of the van, that inhuman thing coming out of his mouth, hunched over Destiny Taylor. “Maybe we’re making this too difficult. Maybe if we go and ask him to stop…tell him what we know…”

“Three things are never satisfied,” Mrs. Greene said, and Patricia recognized the quotation from somewhere. “And four is never enough. He’ll eat up everyone in the world and keep on eating. The leech has two daughters and their names are Give and Give.”

Patricia had an idea.

“If two of us make it go faster,” she said, “it’ll go even faster with three.”





CHAPTER 28


“Patricia!” Slick cried. “Thank goodness!”

“I’m sorry to drop by without calling—” Patricia began.

“You’re always welcome,” Slick said, pulling her in off the doorstep. “I’m brainstorming my Halloween party and maybe you can unstick my logjam. You’re so good at these things!”

“You’re having a Halloween party?” Patricia asked, following Slick back to her kitchen.

She held her purse close to her body, feeling the folder and photograph burning through its canvas sides.

“I’m against Halloween in all its forms because of the Satanism,” Slick said, pulling open her stainless-steel refrigerator and taking out the half-and-half. “So this year, on All Hallows’ Eve, I will be holding a Reformation Party. I know it’s last minute, but it’s never too late to praise the Lord.”

She poured coffee, added her half-and-half, and handed Patricia a black-and-gold Bob Jones University mug.

“A what party?” Patricia asked.

But Slick had already burst through the swinging door that led to the back addition. Patricia followed, mug in one hand, purse in the other. Slick sat on one of the sofas in what she called the “conversation area,” and Patricia sat across from her and looked for a place to set her mug. The coffee table between them was covered in photocopies, clipped-out magazine articles, three-ring binders, and pencils. The end table next to her was crowded with a collection of snuffboxes, several marble eggs, and a bowl of potpourri. Along with the dried flower petals, leaves, and wood shavings, Slick had added a few golf balls and tees to pay tribute to Leland’s passion for the sport. Patricia decided to just hold her mug in her lap.