“Sometimes that’s how it happens. He had a history. That’s what forced him into retirement to begin with.”

“Yeah, but it was at almost exactly the same time, Row. There’s gotta be somethin’ to that.”

I knew exactly where he was heading with the comment, as he had mentioned it to me earlier at the funeral home, but at that point we hadn’t had time for discussion.

“It was just a coincidence, Ben.” I shook my head as I spoke. “There was no connection between what happened to Constance and Carl’s heart attack.”

“How do ya’ know that?”

“Well, I guess I really don’t. Not for an absolute fact, anyway.” I shrugged.

“So then why are ya’ bein’ a skeptic all of a sudden? Deck treated Constance like she was ‘is own daughter. Think about it…” He started ticking off points with the fingers of his free hand. “Damn near the same time. The ambulance brought Deck ta’ the same hospital as her instead of goin’ ta’ one of the closer ones out in the county. When he arrived he was stable. Then it all goes south for Constance while she’s on the table. The docs bring ‘er back, but suddenly Deck keels over right there in the treatment room, and they can’t revive ‘im. Hell, you’re the friggin’ Witch, not me. Ain’t this your kinda shit? You of all people can’t tell me that doesn’t seem a little Twilight Zone, white man. Like some kinda trade off or somethin’.”

I didn’t figure this was an appropriate time to argue with him over the realities of WitchCraft, or even my personal psychic abilities-something that I actually considered to be an unfortunate curse as opposed to a gift. Over the years I’d already explained to him more than a dozen times that magick didn’t work quite like he sometimes wanted to think it did. Of course, I was also well aware that I probably sounded like some kind of hypocrite every time I said as much, given that he had seen me unwillingly channel murder victims on several occasions. And of course, there was our most recent brush with the ethereal, which left even me wondering just what to believe. It was hard to convince someone that the paranormal wasn’t the everyday way of things when it seemed to rain down on you constantly the way it did with me.