at Matt and saw the question in his eyes. He must have sensed her sadness at the thought of the beautiful young woman who apparently had no one to mourn her passing.
I mourn you , Kerry said to Patti’s spirit, feeling that it was close at this moment. If Patti had lived, Kerry knew they could have become lifelong friends.
“You okay?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll explain later.” A restlessness as well as a certainty was growing inside her. She intended to use the rest of her time in New Orleans to find out about Patti and to see that she was laid to rest in a place she would have liked, not shoved into some anonymous grave in a pauper’s cemetery.
Somehow Kerry would find a way to reconnect the lovely young woman she’d known so briefly with those who had loved her. Somehow she would do this, Kerry vowed.
“T HIS WAY ,” the crone said when the ceremony was over and the fire mostly embers.
Matt moved protectively toward Kerry.
The old queen smiled slightly, then nodded her head toward the path through the trees. “I’ll light the way for you.” She poked a torch into the fire pit. It flamed up at once. “Come.”
Matt guided Kerry in front of him on the path as they followed the woman away from the bayou. The night was eerily dark. The moon, which was full a few days ago, had disappeared behind thick white clouds during the healing ritual. The old woman with her torch was their only companion along the path. The other guests had departed quickly.
Matt hoped the cab was there as promised. Kerry had been spooked enough for one night. She seemed to be taking all this voodoo stuff rather seriously. That, plus the effect of Patti’s death on her, worried him. He didn’t want her gentle soul to be bruised by all this.
What was he thinking? He hardly knew Kerry, after all. Maybe both of them were affected by the tragedy more than they realized.
“Did you know Queen Patrice from the voodoo museum?” Kerry now asked the older woman.
She turned to face them. “I have been her spiritual advisor for over a year.”
“Oh,” Kerry said. “Then…then you must know she died last night?”
Matt observed the quick signs of shock—the blinkof the eyes, the tightening of the hand holding the torch—before the woman recovered. “I didn’t. What was the cause?”
“The police aren’t sure, perhaps an overdose. Do you know if she was on drugs?”
“She was not,” the woman said emphatically. “It would have been a betrayal of the healing spirit.” She paused. “It is her guiding spirit. She should have been here tonight.”
“Did she have any family?” Kerry continued. “The police detective said she would be put in a public grave if no one claimed the body.”
Matt was surprised at Kerry’s persistence, then realized he shouldn’t have been. She had strong feelings about family and was apparently determined to do something about Patti’s lack of one.
“She must be cleansed,” the woman said, the lines of her face drawn into a fierce frown. “Only fire will do that now.”
“What do you mean?” Kerry asked.
“She must be cremated. Her ashes must be returned to a place of rest for her.”
Kerry nodded. “Where? Where was she from?”
The voodoo queen continued along the path, muttering to herself, and didn’t answer. Matt felt himself growing impatient.
Hearing steps behind them, he glanced over his shoulder. One of the younger women who’d taken partin the dancing followed them, a flashlight in her hand. She smiled and nodded.
The world felt normal once more. The old queen could sure give a person the willies.
Near the edge of the trees, the path split, and Matt spotted a familiar light by the road. Their driver had returned as promised. The old woman took the path leading back among the trees.
“This way,” the younger one said, guiding them toward the taxi.
“Did you know Patti?’ Kerry asked her. “She was also Queen Patrice.”
“Yes. She was
I mourn you , Kerry said to Patti’s spirit, feeling that it was close at this moment. If Patti had lived, Kerry knew they could have become lifelong friends.
“You okay?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll explain later.” A restlessness as well as a certainty was growing inside her. She intended to use the rest of her time in New Orleans to find out about Patti and to see that she was laid to rest in a place she would have liked, not shoved into some anonymous grave in a pauper’s cemetery.
Somehow Kerry would find a way to reconnect the lovely young woman she’d known so briefly with those who had loved her. Somehow she would do this, Kerry vowed.
“T HIS WAY ,” the crone said when the ceremony was over and the fire mostly embers.
Matt moved protectively toward Kerry.
The old queen smiled slightly, then nodded her head toward the path through the trees. “I’ll light the way for you.” She poked a torch into the fire pit. It flamed up at once. “Come.”
Matt guided Kerry in front of him on the path as they followed the woman away from the bayou. The night was eerily dark. The moon, which was full a few days ago, had disappeared behind thick white clouds during the healing ritual. The old woman with her torch was their only companion along the path. The other guests had departed quickly.
Matt hoped the cab was there as promised. Kerry had been spooked enough for one night. She seemed to be taking all this voodoo stuff rather seriously. That, plus the effect of Patti’s death on her, worried him. He didn’t want her gentle soul to be bruised by all this.
What was he thinking? He hardly knew Kerry, after all. Maybe both of them were affected by the tragedy more than they realized.
“Did you know Queen Patrice from the voodoo museum?” Kerry now asked the older woman.
She turned to face them. “I have been her spiritual advisor for over a year.”
“Oh,” Kerry said. “Then…then you must know she died last night?”
Matt observed the quick signs of shock—the blinkof the eyes, the tightening of the hand holding the torch—before the woman recovered. “I didn’t. What was the cause?”
“The police aren’t sure, perhaps an overdose. Do you know if she was on drugs?”
“She was not,” the woman said emphatically. “It would have been a betrayal of the healing spirit.” She paused. “It is her guiding spirit. She should have been here tonight.”
“Did she have any family?” Kerry continued. “The police detective said she would be put in a public grave if no one claimed the body.”
Matt was surprised at Kerry’s persistence, then realized he shouldn’t have been. She had strong feelings about family and was apparently determined to do something about Patti’s lack of one.
“She must be cleansed,” the woman said, the lines of her face drawn into a fierce frown. “Only fire will do that now.”
“What do you mean?” Kerry asked.
“She must be cremated. Her ashes must be returned to a place of rest for her.”
Kerry nodded. “Where? Where was she from?”
The voodoo queen continued along the path, muttering to herself, and didn’t answer. Matt felt himself growing impatient.
Hearing steps behind them, he glanced over his shoulder. One of the younger women who’d taken partin the dancing followed them, a flashlight in her hand. She smiled and nodded.
The world felt normal once more. The old queen could sure give a person the willies.
Near the edge of the trees, the path split, and Matt spotted a familiar light by the road. Their driver had returned as promised. The old woman took the path leading back among the trees.
“This way,” the younger one said, guiding them toward the taxi.
“Did you know Patti?’ Kerry asked her. “She was also Queen Patrice.”
“Yes. She was
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