“Yes. A ten-minute drive. Davy’s the county seat of Roca Fría County. The town’s named for Davy Crockett, of course. ‘Crockett’ was already taken.”

“So I’m guessing you’re not from around here, either,” says Manfred.

“Nope.” Bobo doesn’t amplify. This is a big clue, to Manfred. He’s thinking it over when Madonna emerges from the kitchen to carry a glass of water over to the Rev and take his order. She’s put glasses full of ice and pitchers of tea and water on the big table already.

Then Manfred spies a woman walking on the old sidewalk across Witch Light Road. She’s passing the Antique Gallery and Nail Salon, though she barely glances at the CLOSED FOR LUNCH sign in the window. She’s a showstopper. She’s easily five foot nine, she’s wearing jeans that show she is slim without being gaunt, and her orange sweater clings to square shoulders and thin, muscular arms. Though Manfred vaguely feels she should be wearing four-inch heels, she’s not. She’s wearing battered boots. She’s got on a bit of makeup, and she’s decorated with silver earrings and a silver chain.

“Damn.”

He’s not aware he’s said it out loud until Bobo says, “Be very afraid.”

“Who is she?”

“She rents one of my apartments. Olivia Charity.” Manfred is pretty sure that Olivia Charity is not the woman’s real name. Bobo knows her true name, but he’s not going to voice it. Curiouser and curiouser.

And then Manfred realizes that all morning, throughout the camaraderie of unloading the van, neither of his companions asked the obvious questions. Why are you moving to such a godforsaken place? What brings you here? What do you do? Where did you live before?

And Manfred Bernardo realizes he’s moved to the right place. In fact, it’s just like he belongs here.

1

Manfred succeeded in getting his computer equipment set up in less than two days. He started catching up on his websites Thursday afternoon. Time was money in the psychic business.

He was able to roll his favorite chair right up to the large L-shaped desk that dominated what should have served as the living room, the room facing Witch Light Road. His computer equipment was set up there, and there were filing cabinets that rolled under the desk, though most of his files were online. Aside from the computer desk and chair, in an alcove there were two padded chairs with arms. He’d arranged them facing each other over a small round table, just in case he had a client in his own home who wanted a palm or tarot reading.