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Chapter Ten
“Let me see. Is it the same symbol?” She stretched out her hand, but he ignored it and walked his chair next to hers.
He held out his phone with one hand, cupping it with the other. “See for yourself. Looks like Victor Juarez was a member of the same coven as Nora and Liz.”
“And my sister.”
“Whom we can’t find.”
Christina took a long pull of ice water to soothe her dry throat. “There’s still Libby. Do you want to pay her another visit today?”
“I think that’s a good idea.” He held up another piece of bread. “Just as soon as I devour my chowder and the bowl it came in.”
When they finished their lunch, they took another bus up to The Haight.
“I’m glad I’m not driving today. It’s more crowded than it was last night.”
“Tourists. The name Haight-Ashbury district still carries the old mystique for some, doesn’t it? Even though hipsters have replaced the flower children.”
“It wasn’t all peace and love back then either. Don’t forget Charlie Manson hung out here and hooked up with some of his disciples on these very streets.”
“You would know that. Why were you reading about serial killers instead of playing with Barbie dolls?”
“Can’t tell you that, Eric. I tried to explain it to you before, but I can’t even explain it to myself.”
“Except that you have some kind of connection with them—the killers.”
“To their evil side. I wish I didn’t, but there it is. Maybe it led me to this work, and it’s my way of doing good. My way of taking something dark and exposing it to the light.”
“I’m glad it brought you...here.”
She raised her eyes to his face, but he’d turned away and was pointing ahead.
“Alley’s right there. Let’s see if Libby’s open for business.”
They turned down the alley lined with shops, which looked a little tawdry without the colored lights glowing in the dark. Libby’s bookshop was situated near the Lower Haight where the Victorians were a little shabbier and the street people a little grittier. The door to Kindred Spirits was closed, but the open sign faced the street so they pushed through to the shop. The bells overhead jingled and a cloud of incense wafted out the door.
Libby looked up from her conversation with a customer and waved.
“This is the book to get you started. If you have any kind of gift at all, you’ll find out soon enough when you start working with the cards.”
“Thank you. I’ve always wanted to learn how to read tarot cards.”
As Libby turned to ring up the sale, she winked at Christina.
After Libby ushered her patron out the door, she glided back behind the counter. “You’re back. You must have more evidence to back up my claim.”
“Maybe.” Eric picked up an orb and held the blue glass to his face. “What’s this?”
“It wards off evil spirits, Agent Brody.” She twisted her gray braid around her hand and studied the end. “Are you in need of something like that?”
“I’m not, but members of a particular coven might be.”
Christina clicked her fingernails on the glass counter. “What’s going on, Libby? Why would one coven want to get rid of another?”
“I’m somewhat of a coven historian. I have traced the familial lines of the great families and have worked on the family trees, but your theory is as good as mine. I have no idea why this purge is going on.”
“Has it happened before between covens?” Eric placed the glass ball back in the basket.
“Not in modern times. Not that I’m aware of.”
Christina asked, “What were the reasons in the past for these types of...purges?”
Libby held up her thin hand, the blue veins crisscrossing beneath her flesh, and ticked off her fingers with each word. “Power, money, love, revenge. All the usual reasons. I’m sure you’ve seen it all in your line of work, and it’s no different in the world of the occult.”
Eric brushed her ear with a whisper. “Told you so.”
“You haven’t heard anything else about the murders? Did Nora ever talk to you about any of it or any of her fears?” Christina couldn’t help but make comparisons between Nora and Vivi, but Vivi had known enough to go into hiding.
“I just know there was trouble brewing, but I don’t know the details. I have certain...sensitivities, but I’m not a witch.”
“What about Nigel?” Eric made a turn around the shop and stopped in front of a cork bulletin board.
