“We need to get that brick out of the wall,” I said.
Sydney spun around and her mouth dropped open. “What?”
“We need to see if there’s anything behind the brick.”
She slowly shook her head. “Mike, have you lo
st your mind? You’re a cop, not Nicolas Cage! You’re talking about defacing a very, very, very old cemetery.”
“I’m not going to deface anything. I’m just… looking.” I glanced around the cemetery and took into account the number of tourists that were there. If I started messing with a brick, one would notice. “I need a distraction, Syd.”
Her eyes widened. “And you’re making me an accomplice!”
I shot her an intense look. “Syd, I need a distraction.”
She tipped her head to the side, thoughtful for a moment.
“Please?”
“I can’t believe this. First, I took evidence. Now, I’m part of a gang that’s going around and taking things from dead people! We don’t even have a gang sign with our fingers spelling some gang name or whatever it is they do.”
“Part of a gang?” I asked with a laugh.
“That is what you took from that, Mike? That part? Not the part of taking something from a dead person!” She looked back at the entrance of the graveyard. “I still have a very weird feeling someone is watching us, Mike.”
“Considering what I’m asking you to do, it’s no wonder you’re paranoid. Let’s get back to the plan though. Distraction, Syd.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrow. “If something happens, I don’t know you. But… if it’s a distraction you want, you’ve got it. If I end up going to jail, you better call someone who knows someone who can present me with a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Leaning down to kiss her, I was met with the palm of her hand. “Oh no. No kisses for you, Officer McHotty.”
I watched as Sydney walked away from me full of sass. Part of me was sort of excited to see what she would come up with. Never in a million years would I have imagined she would do what she did.
She let out a laugh and then clapped her hands. The old cemeteries in Boston usually had at least a dozen or so tourists at any given time. Getting the attention of almost everyone in the graveyard.
“So you… you want to see some graves do you?” she called out.
A few people yelled back to her. “Yes!”
“How about a tale or two?”
There was another round of Yes! and some applause.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place, my friends. My name is Mary Bradbury. The year is sixteen ninety-two, and I have been accused of… witchcraft!”
Sydney jumped, and a few people screamed and laughed.
“I have been accused because of the following reason—are you ready?”