August 22, Thursday

I WAS sitting on the porch writing in my notebook when I heard a vehicle approaching, I looked up and was relieved to see the orange El Camino rambling to a stop.

Apparently Kelly had changed her mind.

She climbed out of the car and looked all around, then closed the door and approached me.

"Are you back?" I asked.

"Only because I need the money," she groused.

"It makes the world go around," I agreed. "The chickens and Satan will be glad you're back."

She put her hands on her hips. "Has there been any more funny business at the graveyard?"

I decided not to mention the lunar gatherings, occasional inhuman screeches, and the fact that Satan still refused to eat the grass around Nell Benson's grave.

Instead I donned an innocent expression. "No."

She frowned. "I know the electric went off again."

"It's back on. But do you know anything about stoves or air conditioners?"

"I'll take a look at them," she intoned.

From her pockets she began to pull chunky necklaces of crystals and stacked them around her neck.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Selenite, black obsidian, and black tourmaline," she said, pointing to each. "To ward off the witches." She stared at me defiantly.

I crossed my arms. "I can live with that."