Later that day, James had an address in hand for Polly Grace, along with a printout of directions and very scant information on her. There were rumors online, just a few mentions in different Facebook groups of work for hire that she’d do. They said it was embroidery, but it seemed oddly coded. Not that it mattered. James was going to go to the source and get an honest answer about whatever the hell was going on here.

“Hey, Amelia,” he called.

She’d been on the couch when he went into his office, but now she was nowhere to be found. He glanced into the messy kitchen, found it empty, then headed down toward the gym.

Muffled pop punk was pouring out from the crack beneath the door and when he opened it, he found Amelia and Madelyn walking slowly on the treadmills together. He waved and motioned to the stereo. Amelia gave him a nod, and he turned it off.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Not bad,” Amelia said.

She gestured with her injured arm. “It’s a little difficult to keep my balance, but I’m getting better.”

“Hold on to the safety rail,” James said.

“Yes, Dad.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go check out this Polly Grace woman. Want to come?”

“When?”

“Half an hour or so?”

She grimaced. “You didn’t get my note?”

“No, what’s up?”

“Graham’s taking the second half of my shift. I’m going to go up to Hillsborough to observe their team.”

James didn’t like how that statement made his chest go tight. Why was it an issue? She’d made no secrets that she wanted to be a captain and if she’d been hesitant the past few days, that didn’t mean she’d changed her mind. If James had convinced himself she had, then that was his problem.

“Oh, great,” he said, hating the false note of cheer in his voice. “No, really, that’s awesome. Just observing?”

“Yeah,” she said, still walking. “They invited me up to check out their operation and just get an idea of how it works. I figure it’s probably not too different from here, but it’s worth going.”

“Definitely, yeah,” he said. “Okay, no problem. I’ll see if Bradley can go with me when he gets here.”

“I saw him out in his car a few minutes before I came in here,” Amelia said. “So he’s here a little early.”

“Thanks, I’ll go check.”

He turned the music back on, then headed out of the gym and up the stairs to the front door. When he opened it, he immediately regretted leaving his jacket in his office, but stepped outside anyway.

He spotted Bradley in his car, where it was parked along the sidewalk, and headed over. The frozen grass crunched under his shoes and he could feel an almost-invisible flurry of snow flicking against his face. He got to the passenger side door and knocked on the window.

Bradley pulled off his headphones and scowled at James, rolling the window down. “I’m not on for another fifteen minutes,” he snapped.

“I know,” James said. “Sorry. But do you want to go check out this Polly Grace with me?”

“The one who curses people for money?”

“One and the same.”

“Yeah, hang on.”

He rolled the window back up, shoved his headphones in his bag, and slipped the bag under the seat. Then he got out and joined James on the sidewalk.

“When are we going?”

“Now?”

“Sure.”

Bradley followed James over to his car, sliding into the passenger seat.

“What were you listening to?” James asked, reaching into his backseat for the spare jacket he usually stashed there.

“Nothing.”

James wasn’t sure why he bothered. So instead of trying to engage with Bradley when he was in this mood, he pulled out of the driveway and turned the radio up.

After a few minutes, he glanced over at Bradley, who was sitting in the passenger seat, clenching and relaxing his fists. “You sure you’re okay?” James asked.

“Yes!” Bradley snapped.

“Fine, whatever, Christ.”

He didn’t expect an apology, so he wasn’t upset when there was only silence beyond the soft music on the radio. They drove through downtown, passing the Christmas displays on the town common. The trees were wrapped in colorful lights that were turned on, even in the daylight. Beyond the trees, James could see the path was lined with lights leading to the old cemetery at the back of the common. It was sweet and comforting right now when his nerves were rubbed raw by this case.

“What’s the plan when we get there?” Bradley asked.

Good question. “We ask to talk to her, I guess?”

“Oh, just walk in and ask, hey did you kill a guy? No reason, just curious? Are you fucking serious?”

James was used to a degree of attitude from Bradley, but this was above and beyond the usual, and he wasn’t going to put up with it. Even if something was going on. “You don’t have to go,” he said, coming to a stop at a red light.

“Apparently I do if you’re going to kill yourself.”

“I’m not going to frigging… I’m planning to tell her I heard about her embroidery service. That’s the code they’re throwing around for her curses in all those awful Facebook groups.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, fucking oh. Stop treating me like I’m stupid, I’m tired of it.”

He hadn’t meant to say all of that, but there was no taking it back now. He thought Bradley would come back with something nasty, but he just grimaced. “Fine,” he said shortly.

Not quite an apology, but James would take it. They were clearly both on edge. “It’s fine,” he said. “Look, I know what I’m doing, okay?”

“Sure.”

They were silent as James kept driving. The snow was more noticeable now, sticking to the roads and to his windshield. He turned on the wipers and the gentle pattern of their movements filled the car.

“So you saw the Cottage?” James said a little later as they were pulling onto the highway. “It’s wild, isn’t it? I’ve never seen a house that big.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big,” Bradley said.

“When they said cottage at first, I thought they were talking about a little summer place against a lake. With seventies wood paneling and shit like that. Not a palace.”

Bradley’s laugh was nearly silent, but it was enough that James felt some of the tension in the car ease. The music switched to some old, crackly folk song on the college station and he left it, letting the twangy guitars fill the silence for the rest of the drive.

---

Polly Grace’s house was a tiny cottage tucked in the woods of Ashburnham. This was a real cottage, a little home that was falling apart in the ragged yard surrounding it. Dead plants poked up from the thin layer of snow that had fallen over the yard and there was rusted work equipment filling the small side space opposite the frozen garden.

James got out and tried to ignore his nerves. He was as protected as he would ever be. Father McEnerney had basically baptized him over again. He wasn’t Catholic anymore, though apparently, neither was the Father these days. But between the anointing in holy oil, the amulet around his neck, and the wards he’d meditated on in the peace of the pink bedroom this morning, he was set. And he’d done everything he could to protect Bradley too, who was still grumbling slightly from his own anointing yesterday with the Father.

“Alright, you hang back and I’ll talk to her,” James said.

Bradley still looked skeptical, but he stepped back. Taking it for the olive branch he knew it was, James nodded, then walked up the small set of broken stairs to the front door. A faded Halloween witch hung on the door and he tried not to laugh as he knocked.

He waited for a second, listening for the sound of footsteps on the other side. Nothing. He knocked again. “Hello?” he called. “Ms. Grace? I’m here to ask about some embroidery work.”

He held his breath, listening desperately for anything inside the house. If she wouldn’t speak to them, how were they going to stop what was happening? Those two clowns in Foxborough weren’t going to say anymore. He already had to come up with a cover story about how he found Polly Grace to avoid getting both him and Uncle Tommy in trouble. That wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t like he never fudged reports. But if he could talk to her, maybe-

Silence again. There was no car in the tiny driveway, not that it meant anything. But he tried one more time, knocking on the door as hard as he dared.

“Ma’am?” he called. “Listen, if you’re in there, I’m just here about embroidery. I saw your work, and it’s very fine. Can we talk?”

He glanced back at Bradley, who was watching the picture window at the front of the house with interest. Then he turned back, but the house was still silent.

“She’s not home,” James said, turning around and walking carefully down the broken stairs.

Bradley was still looking at the window, but he nodded and turned back to the car, face expressionless. James thought nothing of it as he slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the car. They were pulling away from the house when Bradley spoke.

“The window curtain twitched,” he said, voice soft as though he was afraid she might hear them still. “She was in there.”

James slowed down. “Should we go back?”

“Absolutely not. If she doesn’t want to talk to you now, what makes you think she will if you demand to go in?”

“Fair. Come on, let’s head back and we’ll regroup with the others. I need to come up with a reason why I know she exists.”

“Where’d you find out?”

“Uncle Tommy.”

Bradley pursed his lips, and James couldn’t help smiling. “What?” he said. “I told you, he’s got connections. It’s fine, I’ll tell them that Rosa over in Palmer had the information. I’ll give her a call when we get back and ask her to cover for me. It’ll be fine.”

Bradley’s phone rang before he could say anything. He picked up. “Hello?”

He listened for a second. “Hang on, I’m putting you on speaker. It’s Amelia.”

He hit the speaker button, holding the phone between himself and James. “Hey, Amelia,” James said. “What’s up? Aren’t you in Hillsborough right now?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice cautious. “I’m heading back to Headquarters now. The Foundation just called me, since your phone is still out of commission. There’s been another death over at the Delinskys’.”

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 19