The max porter box set, p.34
The Max Porter Box Set, page 34
“Not until I know who you are and why you’re going after the Darden family.”
“I’m not going after them. For crying out loud, I’m Enrique Cortez.”
Max dropped his fist. “Chelsea Darden’s fiancé?” Sitting back, Max allowed Enrique to get up.
Rubbing his jaw, Enrique said, “Yes. Well, no, but sort of. Look, I was assigned to her.”
“Assigned?”
“I’m with the Magi group. Mother Hope sent me.”
Max’s stomach twisted. “Aw, crap.”
Chapter 20
SITTING IN THE DINING AREA of a Bojangles — one of the South’s many competitors of Kentucky Fried Chicken — Max watched Enrique closely. The left side of the man’s face had puffed up from Max’s beating, but otherwise, he looked okay. Max had told him they were going to talk, and he asked Enrique to pick a place to sit down, a place he felt safe. He had hoped Enrique would pick some Lexington BBQ or a good Mexican place, but the guy went with fast food chicken. No accounting for taste.
“Look, man,” Enrique said, but Max shook his head.
“Wait.”
Sitting back in the booth, Max sipped on a cup of water and watched the streets. Enrique tried to speak again, but Max held up one finger and mouthed the word Wait. Less than five minutes later, Sandra pulled into the parking lot. Drummond flew from the passenger seat into the dining area.
“I got her up to speed,” he said.
Sandra entered. She walked straight to them, sat next to Max, and extended her hand to Enrique. When Enrique hesitated, she snatched her hand back. “That’s okay. I don’t care for you much either.”
He flustered. “I didn’t mean —”
“Of course, you did. You work for Mother Hope, after all.” To Max, she said, “Let’s get this over with. I’d like to get some semblance of sleep tonight.”
Max resisted the urge to cup her face in both hands and plant a big, wet kiss on her. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “So, Enrique, don’t hold back. If you do, you’ll regret it.”
Enrique jutted out his chin. “Just because you got lucky and hit me a few times, doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.”
“Let me give him some brain freeze,” Drummond said. “That’ll get him talking.”
“I never said you were scared of me. But I have no doubt that you are scared of Mother Hope. I have a direct line to her. Now, we can waste more time dancing around like this, but I already know that you are going to talk.”
“Really? What makes you think —”
“Because you’re here now. Because when I hit you in the woods, you blabbed out about the Magi and Mother Hope. That tells me that you already know who I am. So, stop putting up a front and start talking, or I’ll call her right now.”
Though ticked off, Enrique raised his hands above the table. “You win. No need to be an ass about it.”
Drummond hovered behind the man with his hands at the ready, but Max shook his head gently. “Talk now. Last chance.”
“Fine.”
Shooting up into the ceiling, Drummond said, “It would’ve been more fun my way. It would have hurt, but I’m thinking it would’ve been worth it.”
Enrique scooted back. “I’ve been part of the Magi for about four years now. I was assigned to infiltrate the Darden family, observe and report. Watch over them, if necessary.”
“Why?” Max asked.
“I don’t know. Really. They never told me.”
Enrique reached for a French fry, but Sandra smacked his hand away. “Are you saying that you got engaged to Chelsea as part of a mission? That you faked a first meeting with her, asked her out on a date, seduced her, asked her to marry you — all of that was nothing more than orders? That’s disgusting. That woman is a human being. She’s got a heart.”
Drummond chuckled. “You tell him, doll. I got your back.”
Enrique picked up the fry and popped it in his mouth. “This is my purpose. The Magi are here to protect the world from the witches. We stop the abuses of magic that go on all the time. If that means trampling the heart of a woman who, let’s be honest here, who has never had a happier time than with me, well, so be it.”
Max rested his hand on Sandra’s knee — a signal to pull back. However, if Enrique didn’t watch his mouth, Sandra would ignore pulling back and deck him. To Enrique, Max said, “Got it. You’re trying to stop the Darden family from regaining any of their old witch ways.”
“No. I’m only there to report what I see. That’s it. Honestly, they’re a boring family. Well, Chelsea is. The one you should watch out for is Lane. That girl’s dangerous.”
“The girl? What about the man who cursed them? Why haven’t you done anything about him?”
“I don’t know anything about him or his spells.”
Sandra pointed a stern finger at him. “How can you call yourself a fiancé, or even just act like one, when you don’t even pay attention to the troubles of your soon-to-be wife?”
“She’s not going to be my wife.” Enrique checked around the dining area — empty except for the staff behind the counter. He leaned closer, rocking on his elbows. “About a week before Aunt Holly died, I was in her private lounge. You seen it? Animal heads stuffed on the walls like some hunter’s lodge in the woods.”
“Yeah,” Max said. “We’ve seen it.”
“I thought I’d take some initiative and see what kind of stuff she had in there. Most times I visited the house, she made it clear I shouldn’t go there. But after being engaged, nobody watched me too close when I was at the house.”
Before Sandra could comment on how long he had been stringing Chelsea along, Max said, “I’m guessing you found something.”
“A journal. She had details on all the kids and —”
Max grabbed the man’s shoulder. “Did you read it? The whole thing? What was on the last two pages?”
Enrique shirked off Max’s grip. “Dial it back or I’m leaving. I don’t care who you think you know. I’m not taking any more abuse from you.” He ate some more fries as he spoke. “I didn’t get to read the stupid journal. I didn’t get anything. I flipped through it, saw the names of the kids, and then Aunt Holly caught me. She had said that she was going downtown to see the family lawyer, but that tricky witch doubled-back and caught me snooping around. We argued. She accused me of being a spy for the Magi. I denied it, but we both knew I was lying. And she threw me out. That was it. Chelsea and the others were outside. None of them heard a thing.”
“So, why does Chelsea think you’re still engaged?” Sandra asked.
“Because it could be raining outside, but if she wanted a sunny day, then as far as she’s concerned it’s all sunshine and flowers. I sent her a letter before Aunt Holly died, tried to let her down easy, but man, there’s no easy about that. Doesn’t matter, though. I knew Chelsea would never accept it. I can’t imagine what she tells herself, but I promise you this — we are not getting married.”
Max frowned. “You were the same guy spying on me the last few days, right? You peeked through my window. You dressed up in the gray suit and blue tie and assaulted me near the witch hospice.”
“Sorry about that. Didn’t have a choice. Now that Aunt Holly’s dead, I might be able to reinstate myself into the family. I’d make sure the wedding got put off forever, but I might still salvage my assignment.”
“But you said —” Max tapped the table and snickered. “Oh, you are in a fix.”
Drummond said, “What? What did I miss?”
“Come on, Enrique, tell us the full truth. The Magi don’t know any of this, do they? You never told them you got kicked out.”
Enrique’s lips drew a tight line. Barely opening his mouth, he said, “You say a word and I’ll —”
“I say a word, and you’ll find out how horrible a person Mother Hope can be.” Max derived an ember of satisfaction when he saw Enrique’s attitude drop to that of a more humble man. “Back to me — why did you attack me at the hospice? Why did you follow me at all?”
“I was trying to keep an eye on the family, so I saw you there. I knew who you were right away. I followed you because I wanted to find some way to warn you off of this mess without blowing my cover.”
“So you beat me?”
Rubbing his puffed jaw, Enrique said, “I guess we’re even now. Look, I’m not saying it was the best way to go about it, but I don’t know who lives in that hospice — only that there are witches. I couldn’t risk anybody recognizing me and telling Chelsea. If any of the Dardens caught me with you or the Magi — I don’t want to give that family any reason to discover their deep, inner-witch. Especially Lane.”
Sandra said, “Could Lane have killed her aunt?”
“I’d sooner believe Lane killed her own parents. She loved Aunt Holly, and Aunt Holly loved her. Whether the others knew it or not, Lane was being groomed to take over the family and to be the head witch.”
Max said, “If you’re afraid to be seen with us, why haven’t you bolted yet? Why did you choose a public restaurant to talk?”
“You didn’t give me much choice.” A dark thought appeared to rise on his face but he pushed it away. “To be honest, I’m out of my depth. I’ve never dealt with anything this big before. For now, though, I don’t think they’re looking for me. Not out here.”
Drummond had his serious face on as he listened intently. He pursed his lips and drifted around the table. “Ask him about the grandmother. She’s the one we don’t know much about, but if this family is so big on the matriarchal line —”
“What about Grandma Darden?” Max said. “How does she fit in all this?”
“Not much anymore. She was a strong, vibrant lady, but when Holly died, she took it hard. Losing a daughter is tough, I guess. I was never close enough to her to know much. She didn’t like me — especially didn’t like me for Chelsea. I got that clear. I think she didn’t like the idea of a Latino for a son-in-law. Doesn’t matter, though. There won’t be a wedding, and if there was, she’s no longer all there. Her daughter died, and she couldn’t take it. Had a stroke or something.”
Again, Max caught that dark look on Enrique’s face. “There’s something you’re holding back.”
“I’m telling you everything.”
“I’m too tired to play another round of guessing games. You know who I am which means you know one of our partners is a ghost. He’s itching to freeze part of your body. It’s not a pleasant experience.”
Drummond flexed his fingers. “Not pleasant for me either. But if it gets us done here faster.”
Looking around, Enrique said, “Come on, man. I’m co-operating. What else do you want to know about? They’ve got spell books in that huge library, Lane eats macaroni and cheese practically every day, Alan is a prick — what do you want?”
“The hand,” Max said. The flash of fear on Enrique’s face confirmed that Max had hit the right button. “You know about it, don’t you? You’re afraid of it.”
“You should be too. That thing — I saw it once, by accident. One night, I knocked on Aunt Holly’s door to let her know dinner was ready, and the door pushed open. She sat on her bed holding that glass cube, and I could feel the magic coming off of it.”
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“That’s sort of the limit of my gift. I’m no good at casting spells or seeing ghosts or anything like that. But I can feel it all. I’m like a Geiger-counter for magic. I’m telling you, that thing scares me more than Lane.”
“I’m sorry to hear that because we need it.”
“No,” Enrique said, and for the first time since they sat down to eat, Max thought the man might try to run off. “You don’t really want it, and I won’t help you get it. Besides, they’ll never let you walk out of the house with that hand. Never. And don’t even think about stealing it. The second they notice it missing, they’d raze all of North Carolina to get it back.”
Drummond said, “He might be right about that. If that hand meant as much to Aunt Holly as you all seem to think, then we can assume Lane has been taught to think of the hand just as strongly. You steal that thing, and you’re basically sentencing somebody to death. Maybe a lot of people. Maybe one of you, if she figures out you’re the culprit.”
“Relax,” Max said to everybody. “I’m not stealing the hand. It was just a thought.”
“A stupid thought.” Drummond flew back up to the ceiling.
Finishing his sandwich, Max said, “You’re still trying to do your mission, so let’s get you back on track. I want you to go to the house. Tell Chelsea your letter wasn’t true. Tell her you got cold feet. I don’t care what you say, but get yourself back in that house. Make nice. You do that, and Mother Hope never has to know about anything that went down tonight.”
“What are you gonna do?” Enrique asked.
“Doesn’t matter. You do this, and next time we come to the house, you act like you never met us.”
“But —”
“Either this or I call Mother Hope. Now, get out of here.”
Enrique rushed outside. Max watched as the man pulled out his cellphone. Probably calling a friend to pick him up and take him back to his car.
“So,” Sandra said, “I can see the twinkle in your eyes. You’ve got a plan in mind. Care to tell us what it is?”
“My eyes don’t twinkle.”
“For me, they do.”
“Perhaps.”
Drummond forced a cough. “Hey, you two want to get back to the case or am I going to have to haunt this place to stop this disgusting display?”
Max pretended to think it over. “No big plan, yet. But I do have our next move.”
“See that? An hour ago you were crying that you had no leads —”
“I was not crying.”
“— and now you got a plan to go forward.”
“I do. And step one is for you to go follow Enrique Cortez. Make sure he actually does what I asked. It’s late, but I suspect he’ll go there before the night is over. Tomorrow, meet up with us in Lexington, and let me know what happened.”
“You got it. Where in Lexington? What are you two doing?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” After all the tension of the evening, Max couldn’t stop his mouth from a little banter.
Sandra, however, grabbed Max’s jaw and turned his head away from Drummond. “Tell me. What are we going to do next?”
Through mushed lips, he said, “We’re going to visit Madame Yan.”
Chapter 21
MADAME YAN LIVED beneath a fading yellow rancher on Rainbow Road off Route 8 in Lexington. The enticing aroma from Speedy’s Lexington Barbecue drifted across the homes, the chain link fences, the half-built cars, and the children’s toys, and Max thought that if for no other reason than his waistline, it was a good thing he didn’t live in this area. They parked on the street and entered the house. Even this late at night, the door was always unlocked.
Inside, they found the living room that had been converted into a waiting room with three couches crowded together. Dim lamps kept a low, shadow-filled light in the room. A woman wearing a black hijab over a white frock walked toward them.
Max snapped his fingers. “It’s Cheryl-Lynn, right?’
The woman smiled. In a thick Carolina accent, she said, “Aw, how sweet. You remembered.”
“You’re hard to forget. Is Madame Yan in? I mean, I know she’s in — she never leaves — but is she available?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. See, we need her help with —”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Porter, but Madame Yan only sees people with an appointment. Otherwise, she’d never have time for herself. I mean, everyone who knows her also knows she’s always here. Do you realize that people used to come here hours after midnight to talk with her? Kind of like you, right now. Half of them were drunk and the other half desperate. You aren’t drunk, are you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“The poor woman hardly got any sleep. And how’s she gonna cast spells if she can’t barely see ‘cause her eyelids are half-shut?”
Max wanted to full-shut this conversation. “I understand entirely. Nobody likes having people drop in all the time, but this is —”
“An emergency? Important? Something she would definitely be interested in? I’ve heard it all. Now, if you want to make an appointment, I’ll be happy to get you something set up for as soon as possible. Then you —”
“We must see her.”
Sandra stepped in front of Max. “Excuse my husband. He hasn’t slept in days.”
“Then you understand. It’s not a healthy way to run a business.”
Walking over to a reception counter that included where the kitchen would be in a normal house, Sandra said, “It’s not a healthy way to run a life. So, when is Madame Yan’s next available time?”
Cheryl-Lynn scurried behind the counter and consulted a ledger. “Not until Thursday next week.”
“I’m afraid that’s too far away.”
“I can put you on my call list, so if somebody cancels earlier, you’ll get the opportunity to take that spot.”
Sandra placed a hand on her hip — usually a sign of her anger — only this time, Max could tell it was an act. “You do know who we are, right? I don’t mean our names. You know what we do? What we’ve done?”
The pen in Cheryl-Lynn’s hand began to tremble. “I’m aware.”
“Then perhaps it’s not such a good idea to piss us off.”
She looked at her ledger, glanced at the door leading downstairs, and then back at Sandra. “I-I don’t know.”
“You’re kind of stuck now, aren’t you?” Sandra said, and Cheryl-Lynn nodded. “On the one hand, you’ve got us — people known for destroying a witch or two. On the other hand, you are a good and loyal assistant to Madame Yan — a witch who could destroy you, also. You don’t know whose bad side to get on.”
“Please, don’t do this to me.”
“You want to work for a witch, you have to deal with this kind of thing.”
“But —”
Sandra turned to Max. “Come on, hon. It’s obvious that Madame Yan won’t see us. We’ll have to take this witch’s hand to another. I’m sure somebody else will love to find out how powerful this thing might be.”
