Rose and Helena Save Christmas: a novella by Jana DeLeon, Denise Grover Swank Read Free Book Online Page B

purple-haired sales clerk and said I needed protection. That this would help me.” Neely Kate squeezed the bag. “It looks like she was right. It’s protected me.”
    “No,” Taylor said, taking the pouch from her. “You’re wrong. This bag is what got you into trouble. This must be what the killer is after.”
    Taylor opened the bag and dumped the contents onto the bed—herbs, stones, a chicken bone—certainly nothing worth killing over as far as Rose was concerned.  
    “I don’t get it,” Taylor said. “Someone is after you for a reason, and I thought this had to be it, but I don’t see anything here that justifies purse-snatching or burglary, not to mention torturing Madame Serafine.” Her shoulders slumped. “It must be something else.”
    Rose watched as both Neely Kate and Taylor turned their attention to the empty spot, their eyes wide.  
    Taylor looked angry. “What do mean, you took one too?”
    Rose glared at the two women. “Since I’m the only one who can’t see or hear Helena, can someone please translate?”
    “Helena’s just turned things upside-down. As usual.”

Chapter Seven

    Taylor forced herself to maintain control. Losing it on a ghost was both inefficient and unproductive. “What if someone had seen a floating gris-gris bag? And why in the world would you take something like that? You bitched and whined the entire way to her shop and then you steal a voodoo item. How does that make sense?”
    “It was dark outside and that street had hardly any lights. I didn’t figure anyone would see.” Helena put her hands on her hips. “And I thought it was candy. You know, how people put chocolates in cute bags and tie them up for party favors? The bag was red.”
    “Red velvet is for protection,” Taylor said, “and furthermore…you know what, never mind. Where is the bag now?”
    “I dropped it on the floorboard of your car. It rolled under the front seat and I didn’t want to retrieve it because you’d gripe like you’re doing now. Then I forgot about it.”
    “All of you stay here,” Taylor said. “I’m going to get that bag.”
    She left the hotel room, a million things spinning around in her head. The bag had to be the key. What other explanation was there for the attempt to steal Neely Kate’s purse and the search of their room? Unless Neely Kate made a habit of threatening every shop owner she came in contact with, Taylor had to assume the killer was looking for something that he expected to find in Serafine’s shop.
    She scanned the street as she walked to her car, glad she’d been able to find a parking spot out front instead of having to use the dark garage. Several times that day, she’d had the feeling she was being watched, but had been unable to catch anyone in the act. It could be Detective Savoy and company, but it was far more likely it was Club Bad Guy.  
    She hopped in the driver’s seat and bent over to look under the passenger seat. Sure enough, just under the edge of the seat rested the gris-gris bag. She retrieved the bag, grabbing a phone charger along with it, and stuffed the bag in her pocket. Then she climbed out of the car, still clutching the phone charger in her hand. If someone was watching, they’d think she’d returned to her car for the charger. She hoped.
    The hair stood up on her neck as she walked up the sidewalk to the hotel, and she knew the watcher was nearby. But was he watching her or waiting on another chance to try to snag Neely Kate’s purse?  
    She hurried back to the room and rapped on the door. Rose inched the door open a crack, then flung it open and waved her in. Taylor slipped through the door and pulled the gris-gris bag out of her pocket as she headed for the bed. “Pass me a towel from the bathroom,” she said.
    Rose grabbed a hand towel and passed it to her. She unfolded it on the bed and turned the gris-gris bag over, dumping its contents onto the towel. The collective intake of breath said it all. In the