“Good thing you trust your feelings,” Joe said approvingly. Fiji tried to smile back.

“Something’s going to happen to the boy tonight,” she said. “I think so, at least. He’s been growing so much, and he seems so different from other boys, anyway. I don’t know what it is, but I know he won’t be the same after it.”

Joe nodded. “Don’t forget to tell your cat,” he said. He’d put the dog down, and Rasta was prancing around Fiji’s ankles, smelling the cat on her legs and shoes.

“Mr. Snuggly seems to know. Better than I do. He’s already told me to get a litter box ready for tonight. Normally, he just goes outside.”

“We’ll take Rasta out at the last minute and then hope for the best,” Joe said. “Remember, Fiji. I know you are strong, and I know you are powerful. But no running outside to pick some last-minute herbs for supper or to stand in the moonlight to cast a spell.”

“Do I seem that scatterbrained to you?” Fiji shook her head. “Don’t answer that. I promise, I won’t try to rescue anyone. Have you talked to Bobo?”

Joe shook his head. “I’ll leave that to you, if you have time. I need to get Rasta home. The heat’s too much with all his fur.”

“Okay, I’ll stop in,” she said. “I think Manfred and Olivia have been gone today? You’ve texted them?”

“They’ve been told,” Joe assured her.

“Bye then, and thanks. Stay safe, Joe.” She glanced both ways and then ran diagonally across the intersection and up the steps to the old door to the pawnshop.

It was gloomy inside as it almost always was, and she stopped to get her sight back.

“Hey, Feej,” Bobo called from the back of the store, which was much larger than it looked on the outside. She began fumbling her way back. By the time she reached him she could see.

Bobo was examining a vest. He’d spread it out on the top of an ancient table with carved legs, which probably should have gone to Joe’s antiques shop instead of his own business. That happened, from time to time.

“Is that leather?” she asked, sidetracked for a moment.

“Sure is,” he said. “But I don’t know what the leather is made from. What animal, I mean. Could be anything.”

“Even a person?” She scrunched up her nose.

“I guess so.” Bobo seemed mildly amused by the idea. “It looks pretty cool, though, so I hope not. Maybe when Lemuel comes back, he’d know.”

“I don’t even want to think about that,” she said. “Listen, Bobo, I got a warning from Joe.”

“Joe?” She had his full attention.

“He says to stay in after dark tonight, no matter what.”

Bobo thought about that for a second. “Did he say why?”

“No, but it’s got something to do with Diederik and the Rev.”

“What about Manfred? His car hasn’t been there all day.”

“Joe texted him. Should be okay. I hope he’s close.”

“Maybe Olivia is with him. I haven’t seen her all day, either, and I think her car is gone, too.”

“Yeah, they went somewhere together. They took a couple of old people from the hotel. And the young guy.”

“Weird. That doesn’t seem very much like Manfred. Or Olivia.”

“I know, right? Joe’s probably heard back from them, but I may text Manfred myself, just to keep my mind at rest.”

As it happened, Manfred and Olivia returned to town an hour and a half later, having treated Suzie and Tommy to a substantial midafternoon snack at an ice cream shop. While Manfred dropped off Barry, Olivia saw the two others into the hotel.

Manfred had driven back to Davy to pick up his dry cleaning, and he’d lingered to drive by Magdalena Orta Powell’s office out of sheer curiosity. It did not have gold pavement outside, and the door was not set with gemstones. He’d also picked up some Mexican food for his own supper, and he was looking forward to heating it up. Though that put him much later than he’d planned, he was definitely in before his advised curfew.

Manfred responded to Fiji’s text when he’d had time to feel alone again. “Here I am,” he said when she picked up. “Way before dark.”

She was looking out of her front window. She’d been pulled to it ever since she’d talked to Joe. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Pouring a glass of V8,” he said. “Why?”

“The sheriff is pulling up to your door.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Manfred felt he’d had as much tension as he could handle for one day.

“I’ll let you go. If you need me, call me.” She hung up and worried, pacing back and forth in the shop. She heard the cat door in the kitchen make its distinctive clatter, and Mr. Snuggly came to stand beside her.

“Is he getting arrested?” the cat asked her, mildly curious.

“I hope not,” she said.

26

Maybe five minutes before Arthur Smith arrived at Manfred’s, Joe told Chuy he was going to go for a run. He hadn’t been going out since he’d hurt his ankle, but he was so restless waiting for the night to come that he didn’t think he could stay indoors another moment.

Chuy looked at the clock doubtfully. “You warned everyone else in town,” he said. “Do you really want to take a chance yourself?”

“I know when darkness falls tonight,” Joe said impatiently. “You know the longest I’ve ever run is fifty minutes. I’ve got way more time than that.”