“So what’s to keep me from checking the newspaper and finding the location?”

“Nothin’,” he grunted. “Except maybe the fact that they didn’t run a story on it.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted ta’ know how easy it was gonna be for you ta’ get inta’ trouble.”

“Well, why didn’t it make the papers?”

“Victim was a street person, and there’s plenty of other shit goin’ on down there right now. It just wasn’t considered newsworthy.”

“Okay, so what if I just go to the local police myself?” I countered.

“Knock yourself out,” he harrumphed. “But I can tell ya’ right now you’ll just be wastin’ your breath ‘cause I already told ‘em ya’ might try that. Look, Row, you ain’t packin’ a badge, so you’re just another civilian ta’ them. The coppers down there are short-staffed and under siege for fuck’s sake. They ain’t got time ta’ deal with ya’.” He paused briefly to allow the comment to sink in, then continued, “Besides, I thought you were s’posed ta’ be down there chasin’ a ghost, right?”

“A Lwa,” I corrected. “They’re deified spirits within Vodoun religious practice.”

“Yeah, well that’s just another friggin’ word for ghost in my book.”

“Uh-huh. And I also wouldn’t exactly call it chasing. I’m just looking for her history. It’s really more like genealogical research if you want to know the truth.”

“Chasin’ or not, it’s what ya’ went down there for, right?”

I drew in a deep breath. I really couldn’t argue with him too much because it really was the reason I’d come here. After a bloated silence, I huffed out my agreement almost as one word, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Then that’s what ya’ need ta’ concentrate on. You do the Witch stuff, and let us do the cop stuff.”