“Myra…” Decker leaned in close. “Don’t worry about your man. I can reverse whatever he puts on you.” He closed his eyes, and murmured a Santeria chant he’d memorized from the old days. When he was done, he put his fingers to his lips and whispered, “All I need is a bag of chicken feathers and a roll of pennies.”

Myra looked at him with a mixture of awe and dubiousness.

Decker nodded solemnly.

“You into that shit, too?” Myra whispered.

“Only for good,” Decker said. “I can reverse spells, but not make them. Just my particular power. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Oh no,” Myra said.

“Good.”

Decker paused a minute, found himself thinking as a lawyer would. At least the prosecution was anxious to plea-bargain. Abel could milk that for all it was worth. Then again, if Abel held fast to his plea of innocence, she might even drop the charges rather than go to trial. But what if Mama had to leave suddenly? Then Myra might permit the case to go to trial. There was physical evidence against him, even if some was inconsistent—Abel might beat it. But then again, he might not. Should he cut his losses or go for the big one? Fuck it. He’d pass the info on to Abel’s lawyer, screwing his compadres at Hollywood in the process. The last thought didn’t set well with him.

Decker said, “I did something for you, Myra. Now, you have to do something for me.”

Myra said nothing, regarded him with suspicion.

“Let’s do us both a favor,” he said. “Throw some attention away from yourself. Tell me the names of a few of the girls in your pimp’s stable.”

“Why?”

“I’ll squeeze your pimp’s name from them. Then you won’t be the one who was talking too much, eh?”

Myra said, “Pass the buck?”

“Let’s call it exchanging favors.”

“How do I know you did whatchu said you did?”

“Are you doubting my power?” Decker said. “If you doubt the power, Oggun will get very angry—”

“I didn’t say I doubted you.”

“Good,” Decker said. “C’mon, darlin’. Surely there’s a bitch or two in the bunch that you can’t stand. Someone who gets on your case all the time, rips off your stuff and junk and bad-talks you in front of the man.”

Myra didn’t answer.

“Just one name,” Decker said. “Someone I can squeeze.”

Myra finally said, “I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m gonna do it ’cause I really hate this bitch. Too bad you can’t hex,’ cause this bitch is worth hexing bad. Lotty’s the first name, last name is spelled J-A-C-Q-U-E-S-O-N. Thinks she’s so fine, spellin’ her name with a fancy Q-U instead of a K. Miss Fine and Fancy Bitch.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Where can I find her?” Decker asked.