Witches of Three: Charlene by Temple Hogan Page B

down and don’t get out.” She slammed the door and made her way toward Sadie who was now standing alone on the sidewalk while the car sped away.
    “Sorry, did I scare away a client?” Charlie asked, approaching the bony, thin-faced woman.
    Sadie looked as if she hadn’t eaten in about thirty years. Charlie wasn’t sure whether to envy her for her thinness or rush her down to the nearest diner for a meal.
    Sadie drew deeply on her cigarette and tossed the butt into the gutter.
    “Nah,” she said in a husky voice. “He wasn’t buying. I owe him a favor, and he was trying to call it in with a freebie. I told him I can’t pay the rent on freebies.”
    “The nerve of the guy,” Charlie said, truly sympathizing with the woman. “Do you need some money?”
    “I always need money,” Sadie answered, looking around uneasily. “But not now and not here.”
    “How are the kids?”
    “They’re fine as they can be growing up down here in the hood,” Sadie said bitterly, lighting up another cigarette. She blew out the smoke and coughed. “These things are gonna kill me one of these days.” She glanced at Charlie. “The street’s gone quiet about the shooting.”
    “You have no idea who the shooter was?”
    Sadie glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. “I didn’t say that,” she hedged. “I saw the event go down.”
    “Then you know who it was?”
    Sadie’s head jerked around, and she stared at Charlie with a hurt look. “Who you got with you?”
    Cursing silently, Charlie glanced back at her car. Phil had sat up and was peering at them.
    “It’s my dog,” Charlie said on an inspiration. “I got a new dog.” She blinked and had the satisfaction of seeing her sister’s blonde head take on the canine features of a Golden Retriever.
    Sadie watched as the dog jumped up with its two front paws on the dashboard then hung its head out the window, tongue lolling.
    “Cute,” she said and drew in another lungful of smoke before letting it out slowly.
    “Give me something,” Charlie said quietly. She knew the time she could hang around without getting Sadie in trouble was just about over.
    Sadie knew it, too.
    “Kermit Nolan.” She sauntered away.
    “Kermit?” Charlie asked quickly.
    “Like the frog,” Sadie said without looking back.
    A Volkswagen drew up to the curb, and its occupant motioned to Sadie. She went to talk to him and after a moment tossed her cigarette away and got inside.
    Her sister barked when Charlie got back in the car. With a blink, Charlie set things to right.
    “I can’t believe you did that to me,” Phil exclaimed, morphing back to her human form, her blue eyes round and indignant.
    “I can’t believe you showed yourself after I told you not to,” Charlie groused.
    “I’m sorry. I was curious. Did she tell you anything?”
    “She gave me a name.”
    “Who?” Phil asked eagerly.
    “Think frog!” Charlie said, loathe to give Phil a name. If anyone could screw up what little lead she had, it would be Phil.
    They drove to the other end of Lambert Street and parked, watching as people wandered out of their houses and took up occupancy on the street.
    “Do all these people live here?” Phil asked, studying the scene.
    “Some do, some don’t,” Charlie explained. “Some don’t like to dirty their own nest so they live somewhere else and come here for the money they can make.”
    “Doesn’t exactly look like Wall Street,” Phil observed.
    “There he is,” Charlie said, making a quieting motion as three men came out onto the street from a rundown, two-story apartment complex.
    “Which one shot your partner?”
    “The one in the middle.”
    “Rough looking characters,” Phil commented as the shortest man of the three grabbed a boy riding by on his bike and slammed him up against a fence. The kid couldn’t have been older than his early teens. He looked scared and put up his hands as if to placate his assailant.
    Even above the sound of the motor and air