Page 61 of Heart and Soul
Hillerman’s angry voice poops our party. “I’m going to explain this again, so none of you can say I didn’t warn you. This isn’t a night club. When trouble comes, I promise you it won’t be in the form of a dance-off. This is demon territory, so from this moment forward, we all will be subject to extreme mental stress. If any of you makes it out of here without killing yourselves or each other, I’ll be thoroughly impressed.”
“Hearing you loud and clear,” Russo says between grunts. He and Jay must be climbing over the cemetery gate. “A little whistling in the dark, is all. I’m a nervous joker.”
“Understood,” she says.
“Whoah, whoah,” I object through my Tigers jersey as I pull it down over my head. “Understood? Just like that, he gets a pass? How come you never say that to me?”
“Maybe because I never understand anything you do or say.”
“What, I can’t whistle in the dark, too?”
“You’re not nervous, you’re glib. There’s a difference.”
I want to fire back at her, but the phone line fills with a yelp and the rattle of a gate. Jay groans in pain.
“We’ve cleared the fence,” Russo says with a chuckle. “And very gracefully, I might add.”
By the time everybody converges at my tree, I’m nice and toasty in my buttoned-up Tigers jacket and a wool scarf and gloves. Hillerman’s in black tactical gear and, of course, her shades of badassery. Russo gawks at her and murmurs, “Awesome.”
And then there’s Jay. He’s covered in wet leaves.
“Any sightings?” Hillerman asks.
“Yes, a tree squirrel. If you see it, give him a boot to the head for me.”
“I thought I saw something in the trees,” Russo says. “But it was nothing.”
“I saw that same nothing,” I add. “But it’s a spooky cemetery at night. You’re going to think you saw things.”
“Right,” Hillerman says. “You’re going to think you saw a tall thing with thick legs, a horse’s head, and antlers.”
Russo blinks. “Damn, that’s exactly what I saw. Shayne?”
“Maybe, yeah. Is that bad?”
Hillerman huffs, annoyed. “Forget it. Just don’t keep it in the corner of your eye for too long. It’s fine.”
Russo’s mouth drops open, and I blurt, “It’sfine?”
“It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t sound fine.”
“Let’s go,” she orders.
I nod my head toward the mausoleum behind the gothic iron gate. “There it is. Just like on the card.”
“Latin inscription?”
“Yep.”
“What’s it say?”
“Welcome to the Happiest Place on Earth, what else?”
“You don’t know Latin?”
“You do?”
