“You mean like a voodoo doll?” Jack asks.
“That’s not what hoodoo root workers call them, but yeah, it’s essentially the same idea.”
“What’s this one used for?” Cooper’s voice is filled with apprehension.
“Only one way to find out.” Grasping the broken ceramic doll, I pull the two sections apart and lay the bottom half on the floor next to me. Its strange black eyes stare up at me as I tug on the wad of Spanish moss that must have been stuffed into its belly through the little round holes in the bottom of its feet. Placing the doll’s top half in my lap, I unfurl the long, green, spongy material on the carpet runner, then pick out the tiny magical herbs and roots that are mixed in.
My thigh warms under the broken kewpie’s bulbous head. By now, I’ve learned to recognize my spirit guide’s clues. Glancing down, I pick up what’s left of the ceramic doll, turn it over, and peer inside. Just as I suspected, something red is shoved all the way at the top. Poking my fingers inside, I pry out the soft, rolled piece of cloth then spread it out on the floor. It’s a two-sided, hand-sewn piece of flannel, cut in the shape of a person and stuffed with fluff. But that’s not the most disturbing part. A tiny photograph of Cooper’s face is glued to its head.
My mind reels. This explains everything.
“What does it mean?” Cooper asks.
I flick my finger at all the stuff I pulled from the moss. “Each of these are used in standard red magic spells to draw love. They’re pretty basic ingredients and generally harmless.” But then I point to the little red man adorned with Cooper’s smile. “But this is different. It’s a poppet that’s obviously supposed to be you. You’ve been allured.”
“Dang,” Jack says.
“What am I missing?” Cooper shoots me a blank stare.
Why isn’t this obvious to him? I lean forward. “Someone put a love charm on you.”
He narrows his gaze. “Someone? Are you sure it wasn’t you trying a little spell to win me back?”
My jaw drops and I recoil. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m the one who heard the thing break. Why would I have pointed it out if I had planted in the first place?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe you figured I’d find it when it broke loose and thought it would be better to act innocent to throw off suspicion.”
Jack’s brow contorts. “Dude, you’re messed up. Emma didn’t plant it. I think it’s obvious who did.”
“Who?” Cooper asks, looking genuinely oblivious.
Jack and I exchange looks before we both turn back to Cooper and say in unison, “Taneea.”
Cooper shakes his head. “That’s insane. Besides you don’t have any proof.”
“Hello, what more proof do you need than this?” I pick up the little red poppet and flick it at him but something crackles inside its belly. “Hang on a second.” Yanking on the loose, hand-sewn, red thread that binds the two pieces of flannel together, I poke open a hole, then pull it farther apart with my fingers. It’s stuffed with a few thin strands of Spanish moss. Pushing them aside, I fish around and retrieve a thin scrap of paper that’s folded in fours.
Laying the packet on the floor next to the love-spell ingredients, I carefully fold it open once, anticipating what I’m about to find. This isn’t an ordinary piece of pulp. It’s naming paper used in advanced hoodoo spells. Whoever did this was no amateur. If Taneea was involved, she had help, which I’m guessing was dressed in a sharp black suit and blue sunglasses.
Swallowing hard, I flip the last fold. There are two handwritten spells scribbled on the scrap of paper and two pieces of hair, one golden-brown, the other pink. The first contains Cooper’s name written in script three times in red ink, then crisscrossed with Taneea’s three times in black.
It’s a common attraction spell, or allurement, used to draw two people together and then lock them in place. It’s bad enough, but the second spell is the one that makes my stomach churn. The words, LOVE ME OR DIE are scrawled seven times down the paper in bold red ink crossed with Cooper’s name in black script another seven times.
Relief slides off my shoulders. At least I know for sure he didn’t choose Taneea over me. But then my cheeks flush with anger. How could she do this to him?
“Is that for real?” Jack’s voice is hushed.
Cooper shakes his head. “No. It can’t be.”
“It is. And there’s more than just her name and handwriting. She combined your Personal Concerns together. It’s a very powerful allurement.” I fold it back up so I don’t lose track of the hairs.
His brow crinkles. “I don’t believe it. Taneea cares about me. And I care about her.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “You only think you do. That’s the whole point of the spell.”
Cooper glares at him, his icy-gray eyes look as if they could freeze him on contact. “She wouldn’t do that to me.”
Jack turns to me. “Obviously he’s not thinking straight. What do we need to break the charm?”
“Destroy it.”
Cooper’s chest puffs up. “You’re not destroying anything!” He dives for the folded naming paper and red-flannel man, nearly slamming into me.
“Hey!” I yell, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he yanks the spell components up off the carpet runner, then scrambles to his feet and charges toward the stairs in those awful fluorescent sneakers.
Without my needing to ask, Jack takes off after him.
What the heck is going on with Cooper? First he didn’t believe the charm was real, and now he wants to protect it? This spell is one tough mother. We can’t let it do any more damage. It’s got to be broken now.
Raising my voice, I call after Jack. “Get those things and bring them back to me. No matter what you do, don’t let them get away.”
Jack gives me a thumbs-up as he gains ground on Cooper.
I push off the floor, but I move too quickly, causing my brain to spin. Breathing deep, I clutch the wall and force myself to stand, then make my way toward the hall bathroom to wait for Jack.
Leaning toward the railing, I watch as Cooper approaches the bottom of the flight of stairs. If he gets there first, he’ll be out the door and in his car in no time, on his way to find Taneea and goodness knows what else.
Jack must do the calculation in his head, too, because he yelps and leaps midflight, landing on top of Cooper, simultaneously executing the single most heroic and stupid maneuver I’ve ever seen. Clutching to Cooper’s broad shoulders like a spider monkey, Jack clings while Cooper yanks the banister in his struggle to stay upright. But the force of the impact is too strong and Cooper’s legs give out under him. They tumble down the last few steps, then roll onto the foyer floor.
Jack heaves for air as he picks himself up off the hardwood. He clutches his forearm, which must have gotten slammed.
Cooper rolls on his side, groaning. “I’m going to kill you!” He growls.
“Fine with me, just so long as I get this first.” Jack yanks the little red man and naming paper from Cooper’s hands.
“No!” Cooper yells.
But Jack’s already sprinting up the stairs toward me. Extending his grip, he thrusts the magical items at me. “Now what?”
“Get me some matches. And keep Cooper out of the bathroom.” I turn and amble toward the hall bath, close the door, and depress the lock. Who am I kidding? That’s not going to hold him for long. Spinning around, I look for anything that might buy me an extra minute or two. The tall, narrow, wicker hamper in the corner is my best bet. Moving as fast as I can, I slide it across the tile floor, then tilt it toward the door, wedging its top beneath the knob. Just in time, too because Cooper has already started knocking.