Page 35 of The Familiar Stranger

She narrowed her eyes. “You friends of hers?”

“We sure are,” Maddie replied.

“Well, I don’t know much, but I’ll tell you what little I know. Yes, she closed her shop, and I’m not sure she’ll open it again. I see her often—I’m always working, she’s always working—and then the last time I saw her, she was frazzled out. It was just after that nice drag-queen man got …” She made a stabbing motion toward her heart a few times. “I’m guessing it’s related to him.”

“How do you know?” Maddie asked. “Were they good friends?”

“I’m not sure. I feel like they were at least acquaintances, because after his murder, she kept saying, “I done tried to warn him, dat Grady.” She imitated Dr. Beetle’s walk and accent to a tee. “That’s why I’m sure the two things are related. Him dying and her closing the shop.”

“She said she tried towarn him?” I asked, wanting to clarify.

“Hey, that’s all I know. It could be nothing. I gotta get back to work.”

She glanced over her shoulder to find what I presumed was her boss glaring our way.

“Didn’t mean to get you in trouble,” I said in a low voice. “We appreciate your help.”

Without another word, she hurried to a table at the back.

“Thanks for explaining the ingredients to that … sandwich! No peanuts for me! Toodles!” Maddie shouted at the server’s back. Her comment, though false, let the bossman know our conversation had been Shaggy Shack-related, even though it hadn’t been.

The girl didn’t turn around, but she did shake her head.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said, pulling Maddie along.

We exited the shop and bumped right into the old man we’d met before, and I got the impression he’d been waiting for us. He handed me a business card with a handwritten address on one side.

“Whose address?” I asked.

“I don’t got time to feed you all da answers.”

He shook his head and walked away, chuckling to himself.

Maddie plucked the card from my fingers. “I’d bet my Louboutins this is where we can find Dr. Beetle.”

If she was right, the information he’d just given us was huge. I pulled out my phone and started poking at the screen. “Let’s see … GPS says it’s not that far from here.” I looked up. “What do you think? Too intrusive to just go up to her house when she’s not feeling well?”

Nudging me in the shoulder, she said, “Who are you and what have you done with Sloane? Let’s go.”

CHAPTER25

We found the house, a small, fenced-in cottage. It had been there a long, long time, as evidence by the state of the dwelling. Falling shutters, blackened, curling roofing shingles, and a front porch that tilted to the left all reminded me that home was where the heart was—and not necessarily what it looked like.

As with her little shop, tidiness was not one of Dr. Beetle’s strong suits. Trinkets and potted plants, both dead and alive, and even an old bicycle, were strewn across the weed-filled property.

I opened the wrought-iron gate, which groaned in protest.

“Well, well, well,” came from inside, and the screen door whapped open. “I knew youse be comin’.”

She waved us in.

I entered the cottage with my mouth agape. A quick glance at Maddie told me she was feeling it too—the strange energy hanging in the air, the way the house seemed to breathe with something old and unseen. It was like we’d stepped into another world.

The home was made up of just three rooms—the main room with a kitchenette tucked into the corner, and what I presumed were doors to a bedroom and a bathroom. The walls were covered head to toe with antiques: tapestries, paintings, sconces with candles, and masks of all kinds. A few animal bones and skulls were scattered across tables … and more candles everywhere. Lamps of all sizes with low wattage bulbs added to the mysterious ambience.

Scattered about was a familiar sight: the crossroads symbol. Embroidered in pillows, drawn in sand laid out on a plate, hanging from the walls. Not a cross. But a crossroads.

The symbolism wasn’t lost on me.

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