I sniff at the wet stuff threatening to drip out my nose. Claude may think he's won, but this isn't over. Miss Delia has given me a plan, and I mean to see it through.

The sheriff and Claude approach the gate.

"Why h.e.l.lo, Emma. Delightful afternoon, isn't?" Claude gazes down at me through round blue lenses. His bracing-white teeth almost seem to cast a light of their own. I don't bother to greet him, but he doesn't seem to notice. Or care. "You remember Miss Guthrie, and her little friends, don't you, Sheriff?"

Sheriff Walker tips his ten-gallon hat. "Of course. Beau Beaumont's boy, right?"

"Indeed, the sole heir to the Beaumont estate," Claude adds, his lips parting in a serpentlike grin.

Cooper's brow quirks as he eyes Claude warily, then turns toward the sheriff. "Yes, sir. I always wanted a brother or sister, but I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"On the bright side, there's no one to fight over your inheritance with," Claude says.

A tingle shivers up my scalp. Is that what this is all about? Possessing Cooper's body to inherit the Beaumont fortune? Except Beau's still alive so it's not like there's any rush. Though Beau hasn't looked good lately and has been talking a lot about death.

"Why did you arrest Miss Delia?" Cooper asks.

The sheriff opens his mouth, but Claude cuts in. "We've got a strong suspicion Miss Whittaker was the mastermind behind this summer's break-in at The King Center."

Jack laughs. "You're kidding, right?"

"I only wish I was, son," Claude says. Only he doesn't appear the least bit sad. In fact, he looks positively gleeful.

"You need more than suspicion to arrest someone," I blurt as all respect for authority goes out the window. Because Claude will never, ever be an authority figure to me. And it's not just because he cackled at the moon like a lunatic or that he's obviously got a vendetta against Miss Delia or that my gut tells me he's involved in Missy's death and trying to frame Beau and might even be a boo hag. As bad as all that is, I'll never forgive him for what he's taught Taneea about hoodoo. The gambling charms were bad enough, but the allurement spell crossed all bounds.

Claude sneers. "A confidential informant is helping us build a case."

The screened door slams. Taneea stands on the porch glaring at us, her hands planted firmly on her hips. She's wearing yet another corset top, this one black with hot-pink polka dots, black capris, and black pumps. Her fugly bag is hiked over her shoulder and the locket is prominently displayed around her neck.

"I wonder who that informant might be?" I stare her down as my fists clench.

He shrugs. "They're confidential for a reason."

Right. So they can spin their lies in private. "And has your informant helped you find any stolen artifacts? A master plan written out on the back of an envelope? How about blueprints with the layout of the museum?"

Claude chuckles and turns to Sheriff Walker. "The children must watch a lot of television crime shows."

The sheriff laughs. "I'm surprised she didn't ask if we discovered any DNA."

"Did you?" Jack asks, only half-sarcastically.

Sheriff Walker's smile falls. "No, but we didn't need any of those things, because she hasn't been charged with those crimes. Yet."

Cooper, Jack, and I exchange looks.

"Then why did they take her away in handcuffs?" Cooper asks.

"Our informant gave us a tip that Miss Delia's a conjurer who dispenses medicines in the form of potions, oils, and gris-gris bags. It's illegal to practice medicine in South Carolina without a license. She's looking at up to a thousand dollars and two years of jail time for each offense."

"That's ridiculous," Jack says.

"No, it's the law. If y'all really care about her, I suggest you find her a good lawyer. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back down to the station." Sheriff Walker brushes past us to get to his car. Within seconds, he's gone.

Taneea approaches the gate. Claude's smile stretches wider than normal. "Ah, Taneea. Our work here is done. I trust you'll be returning with me to the museum? We've got to update the board on our activities."

Ignoring him, she keeps her eyes trained on Cooper. "I've been calling you all morning." The words snap like the lash of a whip.

"I know," he says.

"Why haven't you picked up? And why aren't you wearing your new clothes? Or your necklace?"

"Because they're heinous." Jack snickers.

"I'll handle this, bro." Cooper steps to the gate, meeting her face-to-face. "It's over." His voice is as deep as a well. Though his face looks perfectly calm, his body radiates anger.

She laughs. "That's not how this works. I'll tell you when it's over."

"That's where you're wrong. We found your doll. I'm done being your robot."

Taneea's jaw drops and her lids stretch wide. "What-"

Claude interjects, clasping Taneea's shoulder. "It's time to go. You two can work out this squabble later."

Jerking out from under Claude's grasp, she plasters a big fake smile across her face. "Doll? I don't know what you're talking about. You're my Cooper Scooper, not my robot." A nervous giggle escapes her lips as she reaches to brush a golden curl off his forehead.

Jack and I exchange looks. Cooper Scooper? Seriously?

Cooper steps aside. "Like I said. It's over. Your power is gone."

She gawks at Claude, mystified. "But it was supposed to be unbreakable."

He bores into her with his stare. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. You best learn to still that tongue of yours lest you insult those around you. We're due back at the museum. I expect to see you there shortly." He stomps to the Lincoln without so much as a good-bye, clearly miffed that she tried to drag him into this. But it doesn't matter because we already knew he was involved. After roaring his engine to life, he throws the transmission in reverse, and peels out of Miss Delia's yard.

Straightening her shoulders, Taneea strolls toward us.

Cooper crosses his arms. "Don't ever try it again. If you do, Jack, Emma, and I will crush you in ways you never thought possible."

Defiant, she stares him down. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"And I want my mother's locket back. Now. It was never intended for you." He extends his palm.

Her eyes turn down and her bottom lip quivers ever so slightly as she lifts her arms to unclasp the chain. "Fine. I wouldn't want to keep a piece of junk like this anyway. I was just wearing it out of pity." She slaps it in his hand.

She takes a few steps but then pulls up short. "Oh, Emma, I almost forgot. I've got something for you, too. Obviously I don't need it anymore." She digs her hand into her purse and tosses something small at me.

It's a tube of her stinky hand cream. Gross. "No thanks. I don't like the smell."

"That's because you're not a guy. Trust me, rub a little of that into your hands and he'll do whatever you want. Worked like a charm for me." She spins on her heels and strides toward her truck.

Of course. Why hadn't I realized it earlier? That lotion of hers was just another coercion charm. I drop the tube on the ground. As far as I'm concerned it's as toxic as poison.

Desperate for understanding, I charge after her. "Why did you do it?"

She climbs on the running board and tosses me a hateful scowl. "You're so perfect, it makes me sick."

Whoa. That's the last thing I expected. Despite how screwed up she is, and how horrible the allurement was, I laugh. "Obviously, you don't know the first thing about me."

"Really? Look at you. Smart. Pretty. You've got my great-gran wrapped around your skinny little finger, your brother's sort of cool, and you've got Cooper. I don't think it's fair that anyone should get everything they want. Plus, it was sort of my duty. Cooper's superhot. Way too hot for you." She opens the door and climbs into the cab.

"That's so warped."

She shrugs. "Maybe. But it was still worth it. He and I had a lot of fun together."

Chapter Twenty-nine.

Jack, Cooper, and I race back to High Point Bluff to carry out Miss Delia's instructions. I've got a Psychic Vision to pull off. With any luck, the mortar will have rested enough and it'll show us what we need to prove that Claude was involved in Missy's death. And maybe even that he's a boo hag.

After I take a purifying bath and brew a fresh batch of Psychic Vision tea, we pull up to the cemetery and then trudge down the now-familiar path through the kudzu-infested landscape, making our way to the crypt where Jack and Cooper stored the supplies to work the spell.

The crypt air is cool and smells kind of musty like my grandmother's old bas.e.m.e.nt. One of the side walls is lined with sealed cement vaults that contain the caskets of several of Cooper's distant relatives. There's a low bench on the opposite side of the room. I wipe it off as best I can, then pull out my supplies and arrange them on top.

Jack hovers in the crypt's doorway, blocking some of the streaming late-afternoon light. Cooper's right behind him. "Em, is it okay if we watch this time? Coop and I never got to see the visions that helped you figure out The Creep. We think they're really cool."

I have to think about that for a second because I don't want to break any of Miss Delia's rules. After the energy-tea debacle, I'm pretty much done coloring outside her lines. So long as I don't reveal any secrets about how to conduct the spell or its ingredients, I think it'll be okay. There's more than enough Psychic Vision tea to share.

"Um, sure. But just so you know, you have to listen to everything I say. Because if we mess up, we're going to have to wait another three days." Which we don't have, considering the boo hag is likely to strike again before Cooper turns sixteen at midnight.

Jack smiles. "Got it. No problem."

But then another thing occurs to me. "You know what, on second thought, you might not want to watch."

"Why?" Cooper asks.

"The spell pulls the last memory of whatever object is being used. Since the dagger was covered in boo-hag blood, I'm guessing it's going to show us the last few minutes of Missy's life. I know we didn't love her, but she was still a person. And if her pa.s.sing was painful, it'll be difficult to see."

Cooper nods as his shoulders droop. "I see what you mean. Except, if the boo hag was there, shouldn't I see what it's capable of? Since, you know, it's coming after me next."

"He's got a point. Maybe the vision will give us a clue how to fight it, or at least how to stop it from possessing Coop," Jack says.

They're both right. We've got to watch, no matter how bad it is. I nod. "Okay, but no puking in the mortar."

Jack salutes me. "Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes later, we're sitting cross-legged on the crypt floor around the ancestors' mortar. When the charcoal chips are ready, I layer the herbs and roots on the burning coals as I've done so many times before. To my relief, the wind whips up outside, blowing through the leaves on the live oaks. A cool burst of air sweeps through the crypt.

I pull the thermos from my messenger bag and pour enough to fill up the cup and pa.s.s it to Cooper. "Now for the hardest part. This stuff tastes nasty, but you've got to drink it down in one gulp. No cheating. Otherwise it won't work. Oh, and another thing. The vision will start as soon as we've all had a drink so keep your eyes open and alert and don't let go of the knife until the vision fades."

He takes a deep breath and chugs. Gagging a couple times, he clamps his lips tight and forces it down.

Jack's face is filled with horror. "Is it really that bad, dude?"

Cooper nods.

I pour a refill and hand Jack the cup. "Drink."

Pinching his nose, he tilts back his head and guzzles. He shudders as the reddish-brown liquid slides down this throat. Then belches a sour-cherry and burned-spinach-flavored burp.

"Gross." The scent is so strong, I nearly taste it myself.

Cooper laughs, but it's high-pitched and kind of woozy so he must be starting to feel the effects of the tea.

It's my turn. As usual, it's terrible, but it's nothing compared to my vile energy tea.

The sky darkens and thunder rumbles in the distance.

I grasp the hilt of the pirate's dagger and direct Jack and Cooper to each grab hold of some part of the metal.

A wave of fatigue hits me as the spell begins to take hold. The sensation feels good. It proves I'm doing hoodoo the right way, allowing the spell to drain my energy, without taking any shortcuts. The knife suddenly feels like it weighs ten pounds.

The spell incantation slips from my lips.

"Smoke and mist reveal the past And how this object was used last.

Reveal the truth about Missy's death, And whether the boo hag stole her last breath."

Another clash of thunder booms, this time much closer. Cooper and Jack jump.

"Ignore it. Keep your eyes on the smoke," I whisper.

Rain patters on the roof and ground outside the crypt.

I open my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief. The mortar is working. The incense thickens and condenses, creating the magical movie screen for the vision. A bright light flickers in the middle of the gray haze and images sputter on the illuminated canvas. My head sways. I fix my eyes on the vision as the pictures speed up and come into focus, revealing the master bedroom at High Point Bluff. Missy's wearing her pink nightie and is seated at her vanity table, madly smacking a brush at her rat's nest of frayed blond hair. She's laughing and mumbling to herself as she stares at her mirror.

The vision zooms in on her, as if we're standing next to her shoulder. She cackles as the brush snags on a tangle. "Little brat will finally get his. Everyone thought I was crazy to keep searching, but I showed them. I knew I'd find something if I looked hard enough!" Though the back of her hair is still a matted mess, she slams the brush down and picks up a pot of sky-blue eye shadow. Leaning toward the mirror, she smears it on with the tip of her index finger and then applies some blush with an extra-heavy hand. "You, Missy Tiffany Cartier Beaumont, have bought your ticket to the big time. That nasty old goat can't last too much longer, and with the brat in jail, you'll get everything!" She throws her head back and laughs, then grabs a tube of bright red lipstick and slathers it around her mouth. "Now you just have to convince the goat to call the cops. Which shouldn't be too hard." She squirts perfume on her cleavage and winks at herself.

Beau lumbers into the room, leaning heavily on his cane. "Missy!" he growls.

"Dad?" Cooper says.

"Where's Claude?" Jack asks.