Peggy Holloway - Judith McCain 01 - Blood on White Wicker Read Online Free

Jesse stuck her head in. “Okay to come in?” she asked.
    “Sure, come on in.”
    I scooted over and she sat down next to me. Grabbing a pillow, she lay down on her stomach and shoved the pillow under her arms so that she was draped over it.
    “Okay, girl, give it to me. You can tell ole Jesse.”
    I told her about my repeating dream, and her eyes got big as saucers.
    “Girl, somebody done put a hex on you. You think this here is just a coincidence? I was pulled to that shop on Royal Street just as I’m sitting here. Yes, I was. I truly was.”
    “Jesse, will you show me where you got the necklace? I have to make a run for Dave in the morning. But after that, will you show me?”
    “Well, yeah, I’ll show you. I should be just getting up when you get home.”

    CHAPTER 5

      It was one of the antique shops on Royal Street. The owner told us it was one of the pieces he bought from a lady in a house on Poydras Street. Her daughter was putting her into a nursing home.
    At first, he wouldn’t tell us her name or anything about her. But then Jesse convinced him. I don’t understand exactly how she convinced him, but he not only gave us the lady’s name but also told us the nursing home she went into.
    The woman’s name was Henrietta Hendrix. She was in a home called Shady Rest in Metairie, which is a suburb of New Orleans and where I would later live. The home itself was an old plantation house converted into a home for the elderly. It set quite a ways back from the highway among many ancient oak trees.
    We took a cab there, and after, I paid the driver the fare and a generous tip. Going to the reception desk, we asked to see Mrs. Hendrix.
    “Are you a relative?” asked the nurse behind the desk.
    Before I could say no, Jesse spoke up and said, “This here’s her granddaughter.”
    The nurse sadly shook her head and said, “The poor dear, she may know you, and she may not. She has her good and bad days. Take that elevator over there to the third floor. She is in room 312.”
    The door to her room was open. She was sitting in front of a TV, but the sound was muted. I could see her from the side. She looked like she weighed about 90 pounds. Her hair was long and gray, and it was down, like someone had just brushed it for her. She looked familiar to me, but I knew I didn’t know her. When she turned her head and saw me, she started screaming.
    “What the hell’s going on in here? How did you get in and what are you up to?” The voice came from one of the biggest black men I have ever seen who had just walked into the room.
    “John, please help me,” the woman said. “She’s supposed to be dead. She can’t be here.” Then she turned to me, “Does this mean that I’m dead? I don’t understand!! Please! Please help me, John.”
    The man jerked his head toward the door and said to the woman, “It’s all right, Henry. Don’t worry! I’ll get them out of here.”
    He looked at us again and this time jerked his head and his thumb toward the door. To me he was downright scary, but he didn’t seem to bother Jesse at all.
    When we got into the hallway, John said, “Who are you people, and what the hell are you doing here?”
    “Well, this here is her granddaughter…” Jesse began.
    “No, she ain’t. She doesn’t have a granddaughter. Her grandson comes here often with his mother, Henrietta’s daughter. But you don’t need to know any of that. So are you going to explain, or am I going to call the cops?”
    The thought of the cops being called seemed to scare Jesse. She grabbed my arm and got me out of there. We walked to the end of the drive and caught a bus.
    “Don’t you worry none, sugar, we’ll get Dave to help us. He’ll know what to do,” Jesse said after we got seated.
    When we got back home, we found Dave sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette.
    “Where on earth have you girls been? You were gone so long, I was beginning to worry.” Jesse sat next to Dave in the swing, and I