Dime Store Magic

"Enough," Cortez said, pushing Sava

"Back off, sorcerer," she said, turning on him.

"You back off, Sava

Sava

"Go back to the swings and cool down, Sava

She obeyed, giving only a tiny nod.

"Let her go," Cortez whispered when I made a motion to stand. "She'll be fine. You have a decision to make."

With that, he sat beside me and didn't say another word while I made that decision.

Would I force Sava

Was I jealous of Sava

Did I trust Sava

Sava

How could I make a decision like this so quickly? I needed days, maybe weeks. I had only minutes.

I walked up behind Sava

"I'll do the ceremony," I said. "Your ceremony."

"Really?" She twisted to look up. Then, seeing my expression, her grin collapsed. "I didn't mean it, Paige. What I said."

"What's said is said."

I turned and walked back to the car.

I drove in silence, answering only questions directed at me.

"Can I see the grimoires, Paige?" Sava

I nodded.

"Maybe I can help you learn these. Or we can learn them together."

I had to say something. I'm no good at holding grudges. It feels too much like sulking.

"Sure," I said. "That… sounds good."

Cortez glanced back at the grimoire in Sava

"Later," I mouthed.

He nodded, and silence prevailed until we reached the outskirts of East Falls.

"Okay," I said as we drove into town. "We've got a decision to make. We need this grave dirt, but I'm not going near the East Falls cemetery. The last thing I need is for someone to look down from the hospital and see me darting among tombstones. So, we have two choices. One, we can go to the county cemetery. Two, we can go to the one here in town and you can get the dirt, Cortez."

He sighed.

"Okay, I guess that answers my question. We head to the county cemetery."

"It wasn't the proposition to which I was registering my objection," he said.

"So what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Sava

Cortez cut her off. "I'm not 'pissed' about anything. The town cemetery is closer. I'll get the dirt."

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all. I should be able to retrieve dirt through the fence without having to enter the cemetery proper and therefore without risk of being seen."

"Is that where they buried Cary?" Sava

"I think he was cremated."

Cortez nodded. "A course of action which, had it not been determined prior to the visitation, I'm quite certain would have been considered afterward."

"No kidding," I said with a shudder. "After that, I'm a cremation convert."

"Wait a sec," Sava

"We aren't."

"Lucas can't take it from just anyone," Sava

"What?"

"Uh, didn't I mention that?"

"No."

"Ummm, sorry, guys."

"We have"-I checked the clock-"forty-five minutes to find the grave of someone who was murdered. Great. Just great."

"Pull over again," Cortez said. "We're going to need to give this some thought."

We'd been sitting at the side of the road for nearly ten minutes. Finally I sighed and shook my head.

"I can't even think of the last person who was murdered in East Falls. The Willard girl was killed by a drunk driver before Christmas, but I'm not sure that counts."

"We ought not to take the chance."

I thudded back against the headrest. "Okay, let me think." I bolted upright. "I've got it! The woman in the morgue. The one behind the curtain. Someone shot her. I don't know the story, probably because I've been avoiding the papers, but that's murder, isn't it? Or could it be manslaughter?"

"Premeditated or not, it appears a clear case of homicide, and that will be sufficient. Is she buried in town?"

"Oh, God. I don't know. I didn't recognize her. She probably wasn't from East Falls, but I can't be sure. Shit! Oh, wait. It would say in the local paper, right? If we could get last week's paper-"

"How are we going to do that?" Sava

"Hold on. Let me think." I paused, then smiled. "Got it. Elena. She's a journalist. She should have resources, right?"

"She'll have access to online news wire services." Cortez passed me his cell phone. "Tell her to search for anything on Katrina Mott."

"Where'd you get the name?" Sava

"From the notice board outside the funeral home on Monday. There were only two services listed."

"Good memory," I said. He nodded and turned on the phone for me.

As I'd hoped, Elena hadn't gone to bed yet, though it was past eleven on a weeknight. Not that her social calendar was any busier than mine-she stuck pretty close to home, which was several hours from any late-night city clubs-but she had the advantage of having housemates over the age of thirteen, neither of whom had to get up early for work or school. Plus there was the whole werewolf thing, which often necessitated late nights. When I called, she was outside playing touch football with visiting Pack mates. Rough life, huh?

She took the information and called back within five minutes.

"Katrina Mott," she said. "Died Friday, June fifteenth. Shot to death by her common-law husband during an argument because he-and I quote-'wanted to shut her (obscenity deleted) mouth for good.' Sounds like murder to me. Hope the bastard gets life."

"Life in prison and a lifetime of haunting, if there's any justice in the world. Does it say where she was being buried?"

"Uh… oh, here. Memorial at East Falls Funeral Parlor followed by interment Tuesday morning at Pleasant View Cemetery."