Hallie’s mother gestured to some chairs carved from wood and settled into the one closest to the house. She tossed back the dark braid, laced with silver. “What do you want to know?”

Georgette swallowed. “Do you believe the rumors about your daughter?”

“Which one?” Mrs. Bonnaire tipped her head to one side like a bird considering a worm for breakfast. “The one that has her running off with her lover, or the one where she’s the human sacrifice to Lokin?”

“Either.”

Mrs. Bonnaire stretched her arms in front of her, linking her fingers. “Hallie did have a lover, and he’s gone, but I have a hard time believing she’d take off without saying a word to me. We’re close.”

“I’m sorry.” Georgette curled her toes in her sandals. “Nobody knows where the man went?”

“He was a bum.” Mrs. Bonnaire’s nostrils flared. “Not that Fiso was much better. My girl had no sense when it came to men. Drugs...both of them were into drugs. Fiso was a user, and Lalos was a seller.”

“Lalos was a drug dealer?”

Mrs. Bonnaire nodded. “Not that Hallie knew it. I don’t think she did, but Lalos had more money than Fiso and flashed it around. Stupid girl.”

“But you don’t think Hallie took off with Lalos?”

“It’s not just that she didn’t say goodbye to me.” Mrs. Bonnaire sniffed. “She and Lalos had a falling-out a few weeks before her disappearance.”

A drop of sweat started making its way from the back of Georgette’s neck down her spine. “Do the police know this?”

“The police.” Mrs. Bonnaire kicked at some dirt with the toe of her sandal. “I told Clive, but he’s not interested in the truth.”

That didn’t surprise Georgette. “WhatisClive interested in?”

Mrs. Bonnaire lifted her shoulders. “Money.”

Georgette sat up straight and squared her shoulders. “Do you believe Fiso died of an overdose?”

“Fiso had nothing to do with Hallie’s disappearance.”

“I’m not saying he did.” Georgette clasped her hands between her knees. “But maybe he knew something, and Lalos had him taken care of. Maybe Lalos...harmed Hallie, and Fiso knew.”

“I thought about that, too.” Mrs. Bonnaire tugged on her earlobe. “But what about your sister?”

A feather of fear brushed the back of Georgette’s neck. She’d almost forgotten about Jamie in her quest to go all Nancy Drew, but Mrs. Bonnaire must think there’s a link between the two missing women.

“My sister.”

“You’re here because your sister vanished just like my Hallie, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” That bead of sweat had reached the waistband of her shorts, but Georgette had the strange sensation of being hot and cold at the same time. The warm moist air still clung to her hair, saturated her skin, but inside a cold dread was building. “Both women disappearing on the night of the full moon is just too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

“And you don’t believe in the Palarosa ritual rumor.”

Mrs. Bonnaire nibbled on the end of one finger, the nail already bitten to the nub. “There are those who believe. There are those who would return to the old ways if they could.”

“Human sacrifice?” Georgette raised her eyebrows about as high as they could go. “Surely people don’t believe in those customs. It’s m-murder.”

Mrs. Bonnaire emitted a dry laugh from unsmiling lips. “People don’t commit murder anymore? Where areyoufrom, Ms. Lawson?”

“Murder, yes, but human sacrifice? A crime of passion, revenge, greed. A murder for a Palarosa god?” Georgette’s laugh died in her throat.

“What if,” Mrs. Bonnaire wrapped her braid around her hand, “it was all of those things? A human sacrifice to Lokin that took care of the other motives as well? The motives that seem so much more acceptable to you.”