“Yeah, so?”

“Yeah, so, there’s been a change in management my friends, and I’m not exactly considered a model employee right now.”

“Why is that?” Felicity asked.

“Does a little nocturnal incident at the morgue a few weeks ago ring a bell?” he asked.

Unfortunately, it did. During the hunt for the serial rapist, I had convinced Ben to get me into the medical examiner’s office to view the remains of a victim from an overlapping investigation. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem, except that I had talked him into doing so in the middle of the night. The chaotic psychic events that ensued from there had caused quite a bit of commotion in this realm and my friend a generous share of trouble at the time. Apparently, they still were.

“Well, what if I had a talk with her?”

He scrunched his brow and looked confused. “What about?”

“About me and what I can do to help.”

“Were you just not listening?” he asked incredulously. “The woman flat out said for me to ‘leave my devil worshipper downstairs where he belonged.’ News flash, Kemosabe. She was talkin’ about you.”

“I realize that, Ben, but she doesn’t know anything about me.”

“Oh hell yes she does,” he returned. “At least she thinks she does anyway.”

“How can she?” Felicity chimed in.

“Neither one of you is particularly low profile,” he answered.

“You mean the papers?” I asked.

“…And the TV.” He nodded.

“But that’s just media hype,” I told him in a dismissive tone. “That’s not going to tell her anything.”

“Well, guess what?” he chided. “She’s read ‘em and watched ‘em all, and as far as she’s concerned, they’re gospel. And she didn’t get the nickname ‘Bible Barb’ for nothin’. She’s drawn her conclusion, white man. You’re the wicked Witch, and that’s all there is to it.”

“But that’s just her,” I objected.

He countered with a statement I hadn’t expected, “And a few others.”