Part 10 (1/2)
Frankie turned in his chair. ”Psycho Sally?”
”You know her?”
”No.” He grinned, pointing at the sign over the shop.
Sally sidled back into the tattoo parlour.
”Psycho Sally,” Evelina read aloud the black script under the word tattoos. ”I'll tell you what you need to know.” She turned to Frankie. ”So it's one stop shopping-a tattoo parlor and a fortune teller all in one.”
”Looks like it.”
Evelina leaned forward across the table so that she wouldn't be overheard. ”Have you ever gone to a Soul-Sifter?”
”No.” He said it so casually, as though the thought had never crossed his mind.
”Why?”
”Take it from me.” He appeared serious all of a sudden, ”Some things you're better off not knowing.”
”Like what?”
”Like the future.” He flashed a wry smile. ”I have enough trouble with the past, thank you very much.”
”Sooo, you only have time memories for the past. What does that mean? You can't skip forward?”
”We can.” He shrugged. ”But obviously there are no memories, so it's risky as h.e.l.l. It's not something you want to do.”
She was about to ask him if he ever had, when their coffee arrived.
He took a sip, then came to his feet. ”I'll be right back.” He strode to the back of the restaurant in the direction of the men's room.
Evelina sipped her coffee while scouting out the place, taking in every inch, from the pressed tin ceiling, to the six gold doubloons in stained gla.s.s along the top of each window.
She gave a start when Frankie slid back into his chair.
He nodded his head toward the back of the restaurant. ”Your turn.”
”I'm good.”
”No, you're not.”
Her cheeks went hot. ”Oh!” Apparently he wanted her to do some snooping around. ”Right.” She rose from her seat, then sauntered to the back of the crowded restaurant.
The ladies' room was empty. Good thing. It was hardly convenient to search the place for clues in a crush of bodies.
But despite the quiet, there was nothing to be found.
At least, if there was, she couldn't see it. Of course, it would help if she knew what she was looking for. The Wave Wire said, Count the coins at Cut Throat Cove', nothing else. Not a lot to go on.
”Nothing,” she said as she returned to the table.
”There's a bar upstairs.” He nodded toward the waitress trotting down the stairs. ”But, it's closed this week for renovations.”
And there was no way to sneak up there now with the staff coming and going all the time. Better to wait. They could round up reinforcements to run interference.
If only the Wave Wire had said more.
If only she knew for certain who sent it.
Was it her parents? If so, there had to be a good reason. Why send her a Wave Wire unless they feared they could never tell her in person, which meant, if it was them, they must have sent it right before their death. Maybe they knew they were in danger and wanted her to know the truth about what happened to them.
It was rumored their death was no accident. More than rumored. Grammy Crimm believed it had something to do with her father's investigation of black market spells-the same kind that killed Frankie's sister.
It was all a big, tangled mess. No one had ever gotten to the bottom of it. The Swamp Hags were involved, that was certain. They were caught red-handed helping Wendell Barnes when his Time Keeper memories were revoked.
But there had to be someone more powerful at the root of it. This thing had been building for centuries. There was just never any solid proof. Or if there was, those who found it were quickly silenced.
Like her parents.
Evelina couldn't get it out of her head as Frankie walked her back to the dune buggy. The obsession with her parents' deaths increased after the Wave Wire. She needed to know what happened to them.
”I think my parents sent me that Wave Wire,” she said aloud when they reached the dune buggy. ”I just don't know why. I mean, if they were in danger, why didn't they send one to someone who could help them right then. I was only five at the time.”
”Maybe they did.” Frankie shrugged. ”Maybe the person just couldn't do anything about it?”
”Or didn't want to.” She knew what that felt like. She lost a lot of friends when she started to get her powers. People kept their distance-whispered behind their hands.
Who could blame them? Freaky things happened when she was around. She couldn't explain half of them herself, even if she was allowed to.
”Maybe they trusted the wrong person.” Frankie said, lifting one golden brow.
”Maybe.” If only she knew more about her parents-who their closest allies were-who they trusted most? ”My father was a Time Keeper, investigating black market spells. He must have been in touch with the Witches' Council. They must have known something.”
Frankie didn't look surprised. ”Raskin Lipworth would have known. He's been the chief investigator for three and a half centuries.” Frankie's features closed, as though he'd said too much. ”But things can happen fast-before you can report details. They wouldn't have said anything without proof.”
”Is that who you report to?”
”He's part of the team.”
Good to know. She'd file it under d' for don't know a whole h.e.l.l of a lot,' or t' for tight-lipped Time Keeper.' Not that it was Frankie's fault. He had a job to do. Ordinarily she'd consider his professionalism n.o.ble, but right now, curiosity was burning a hole in her head.
She pushed her eagerness down, keeping her tone casual. ”So Lipworth would have known the direction the investigation was going, but might not have been completely up to speed.”
”Right.”
”The six doubloons must mean something.”
”We'll find out.” Frankie reached over and squeezed her hand.