Midnight Crossroad

She groped around inside her clothes for the money, a sight Bobo could have lived without. Eventually, she handed him twenty one-dollar bills, incredibly rumpled and soiled. She grasped the brooch as soon as he accepted the money, and she pinned it to her chest with fingers shaking with eagerness.

Suddenly, in front of him was a lovely, straight-backed woman in her forties, a woman wearing a dress with a tight bodice and full skirt. She was wearing heels, too, instead of the cracked flats Maggie had worn into the store. Her glossy brown hair was put up in a French thing—he couldn’t remember what his sister had called it—on the back of her head. There was a mirror propped against one of the columns in the store, and she sprang over to eye her reflection.

“I look lovely,” she said, and at least her voice was the same.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed. “You look great.”

She gave him a gleaming sideways look. “Oh, you’re just the cutest thing! If you weren’t off-limits, I would just eat you up.”

“Sorry, I’m off those limits,” he responded with as much of a smile as he could manage, spreading his hands in deprecation. “Thanks for your patronage, come again.” He didn’t mean that, but the words rolled out of his mouth from long habit. He picked up his cell phone, punched speed dial at random, and when Fiji answered, he said, “Lemuel! I just wanted you to know that Maggie came in today to pick up her brooch. She’s pleased with your repair. I know you’ll get this the second you wake up.” He disconnected instantly before Fiji could start talking, since he had no idea how acute Maggie’s hearing was.

Maggie was looking a bit hangdog. “Well, if you’re going to be like that,” she said pettishly, “I’ll say good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Miss Maggie.” He put as much finality into his voice as he could and still be on the side of courtesy. He didn’t think Maggie would react well if he were rude.

The door tinkled as she left, and he heaved a huge sigh of relief. He waited for Fiji to show up, as she did a minute later.

“Sorry I had to do that,” Bobo said instantly. “I had a hinky customer in here. I figured if she was sure someone else knew she’d been here, she’d leave me alone.”

“She must have been pretty quick on her feet!” Fiji looked around in confusion. “I didn’t see anyone come out.”

“She did, though. She was scary as hell. Lemuel had told her to come back to pick up her jewelry at night—I don’t know how, because that brooch had been here at least twenty years, from the tag it had the last time I looked at it—but she didn’t do that.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Absolutely. Though it does seem like I’d be tattling to Daddy, doesn’t it?” Bobo shook his head. “On the other hand, Lemuel will see that the brooch is gone.” He was relieved to have a valid (uncowardly) reason to tell the vampire about Maggie’s visit. Lemuel’s customers should come at night, as he bid them, in Bobo’s view.

“I’m going to work on a circle of protection for you,” Fiji said, her mouth compressed in a tight line. She was staring off into the distance, but when she focused on Bobo, her expression softened. “I know you don’t believe that’ll really protect you,” she said. “But it can’t hurt, can it?”

“Any help gladly accepted,” Bobo said hastily. He didn’t want to hurt Fiji’s feelings. She was a generous woman, and (though he’d never said this to her) she always smelled good—like laundry hung out on the line, a smell he remembered from childhood—and she looked soft and warm, like a comforter you really wanted to draw on top of you on a cold night.

The front door had not closed completely when Fiji entered, and Mr. Snuggly glided in. He went right to the spot where Maggie had stood holding the brooch, and he sniffed very thoroughly. Then he yowled.

“That’s one smart cat,” Bobo said respectfully. He liked all mammals; dividing the world into cat lovers and dog lovers had always seemed weird to him.

“You have no idea,” Fiji muttered. Mr. Snuggly looked up at Fiji with a bland expression and yawned, having told them how he felt about Maggie. He began to pad around the store, looking and sniffing with great curiosity.

Bobo hoped Mr. Snuggly wouldn’t try to sharpen his claws on any of the furniture. But the cat seemed pleased to do an inspection tour without testing any of the upholstery. Finally, he stopped in front of a shelf of new items—well, items new to the store—and meowed. Fiji had been watching the cat’s progress, too, and she went to his side.

“What is it?” she asked the cat. He looked up at her, then at something on the shelves. Bobo was at a right angle to the cat and couldn’t decide what Mr. Snuggly was eyeing so intently. Fiji, however, picked the cat up and said, “Are you showing me the old camera?”

For a moment, Bobo expected the cat would reply. Instead, Mr. Snuggly reached out a golden paw and touched the back of the camera. To Bobo’s surprise, Fiji put the cat down and turned the camera around, opening its interior.

“Come look,” she called, and Bobo went over. He looked inside. Though the overhead lights were none too bright, he could see something small and electronic with a green light.

“What is it?”

“It’s some kind of surveillance equipment, I assume. When did this item come in?”

“The camera’s been here for years. A girl was fiddling with it a couple of days ago, I think. She just came in to look around. Said she needed some furniture.” He scrambled to remember more about her. “She was real young, and she told me she was a newlywed, said she got married at the Rev’s chapel. She finally bought a drying rack. She used a debit card.”

“Really.” Fiji’s eyes narrowed. “Huh. Did she have brown hair and bad teeth?”

“Yeah,” Bobo said, with undisguised surprise.

“Okay,” Fiji said. “I guess I need to have a talk with her. You got an address?”

Bobo went back behind the counter and looked on the computer. “Here,” he said. “Here it is.”

The girl’s name was Lisa Gray and she lived in Marthasville.

“What a surprise,” Fiji said.

Bobo said, “Do you know you’re snarling? You know this girl?”

“Yes. I was at her wedding.”

“What should I do with this thing?” Bobo regarded the electronic item dubiously. “Smash it? Sell it? Put it in the bathtub?”