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“Thank you kindly,” she said, taking them. She cracked one into her mouth and swallowed it raw. “Good for the eyes.”
My own throat constricted, then I extended the bag of seeds. “Do you know what these are?”
The woman peered inside, then stuck in her hand and lifted some of the seeds to fall through her gnarled fingers. “Them’s morning glory seeds.”
I gave a little laugh. “Is that all? Flower seeds?”
“Not just flower seeds,” she said, wagging her finger. “Chew ‘em up and you’ll go for a ride.”
I squinted. “I’m not following.”
“They’re like LSD,” she said. “Hallucinogens.”
I remembered Sawyer said Rose had done recreational drugs. Had she kept the seeds on hand for her own trips?
“Not for the innocent,” she said, then took the bag from me and put it in the basket with the eggs.
“Okay,” I relented. It wasn’t as if I was going to use them. I pulled out the black hand mirror. “Do you know what this is?”
Muriel recoiled. “It’s a scrying mirror.”
My eyes widened. “What’s that?”
“Used to divine the past and present, and the future.”
I shook my head. “What does that mean?”
“It’s used to talk to the dead.” Muriel crossed herself, then turned and hurried away.
August 26, Monday
“GIRL. GAWD. Golly,” Frida howled. “You landed in Oz. Goats? Witches? I’d so be outta there.”
“I can’t leave now,” I said. “I’ll have to pay to have the house relisted. Besides, I’m getting a lot of writing done.” I winced when I realized how ridiculous that sounded. Proof that writers would put up with just about anything to get words on the page.
“Whateva. Have you let the hunky stone man lay you down?”
I frowned. “Uh, no.” I didn’t want to say I was having second thoughts about Sawyer now that I knew—er, suspected—that he and Rose had been involved.
Frida sighed. “Don’t let Curtis wreck this good thing for you. He’s so not worth it.”
“I know.” Anger balled up in my chest. “Have you seen the latest?”
“No. What now?”
“My editor sent me a screen shot where Curtis is claiming the Skirts book series was his idea and he helped me write the books.”
“No, he did not.”
“Did.”
Frida screamed. “Josie, I know you’ve taken the high road, but you have to fight back. You can’t just let that piece of human feces—”
“I’m going to… fight back, that is.”
“Oh! Good. What’s the plan?”
“I’m going to have a curse put on Curtis.”
