Dime Store Magic (Otherworld 3)

"Something like that. No offense, but--"

"None taken. If you need more subtle muscle, I can sneak down without Clay. For a while, at least. Until he finds me. Sounds like you have everything under control, though."

I made a noncommittal noise.

"Call me if you need me, okay?" she continued. "Even if you just want a bodyguard for Savannah. She's still coming up here next month, right?"

"Absolutely."

She laughed. "Do I hear relief in your voice? We're looking forward to having her."

" Uh-huh. Let me guess, 'we' as in you and Jeremy."

Another laugh. "Clay's fine with it. Not counting down the days, but not complaining either. With Clay, that's a sign of near-approval."

"Approval of Savannah, not me."

"Give it time. You're still staying for the weekend, right? And we're driving down to New York? The two of us?"

"Absolutely."

Savannah was waving for the phone.

"I have to go," I said. "Savannah wants to talk."

"Pass her over and I'll talk to you soon."

As I passed Savannah the phone and started the car, I couldn't help smiling. For two minutes there, I'd forgotten everything else. Two minutes in which I could again see the future progressing exactly as I'd planned it before all this started. I'd get through this. Then I'd go on to enjoy my summer. I'd have a Savannah-free week to squeeze in some social time with my Boston-area friends, plus a New York weekend to develop my friendship with Elena.

For the first time since Leah arrived in East Falls, I could envision a time when all this would be a memory, something to talk about with Elena over drinks at an overpriced New York nightclub. With that came a renewed burst of optimism. I would get past this.

Now, I just had to gather dirt from a murdered woman's grave before the stroke of twelve. I could handle that.

CHAPTER 35

A GOOD WALK SPOILED

Pleasant View Cemetery did, surprisingly, have a pleasant view, though I doubted any of the residents appreciated it. Pleasant View was less than a hundred years old, but already quadruple the size of its East Falls counterpart, owing to a century-old municipal bylaw prohibiting any "newcomers" from buying a plot within town.

The argument was that the East Falls cemetery couldn't expand, so to ensure that people could be buried beside their ancestors, you had to already have a family plot there. This is East Falls's version of a country club. Seriously. At my first town picnic, three people found a way to work into conversation his or her eventual inclusion in this elite society. "Have you seen our local cemetery? Quite beautiful, isn't it? My family has a plot there, you know." "See that oak tree by the swing set? There's one just like it on our family plot in the cemetery." "I'm Emma Walcott. My family owns the mausoleum in the town cemetery. Pass the dip, please."

Though it already holds more graves than East Falls, the Pleasant View site is so large that the burials are spaced out, some tucked in valleys, some nestled in wooded groves, some amidst meadows of wildflowers. Legend has it that an unnamed philanthropist donated the land and decreed that nature be left as unspoiled as possible. Members of the East Falls elite say the old guy gave away the property to save on taxes and the county was too cheap to clear it. They're just jealous because they're gonna spend eternity surrounded by a hospital, a funeral home, and a 7-Eleven.

The parking lot for Pleasant View was empty, as one might expect at eleven-thirty on a Tuesday night. Eschewing the lot, I pulled over along the side road.

"How are we going to find her?" Savannah said, squinting into the darkness beyond the car.

"At the front gates, there's a map showing where everyone's buried."

"That's handy."

"Handy and necessary," I said. "Some of these graves are almost hidden in the trees. The only problem is that they may not have added Ms. Mott yet, in which case we'll have to do some searching."

As we neared the map, a horrible thought struck me. What if Mott hadn't been buried today? The newspaper article listed the funeral for this morning, but that was before her corpse got up and started slugging people. To my relief, Katrina Mott's grave had been penciled in on the map.

"Would you like me to collect the dirt?" Cortez asked.

I shook my head. "There's no risk of being