Max ducked his head, clearly grateful for my discretion, but I could sense his deep, overwhelming need as well. His need for someone—anyone—to believe him. How many times had Mordechai lectured me on this, on how the affliction of possession affected not only the individual possessed, but everyone around him or her? That just as much care and grace was needed for the supporters as for the sufferer?
I sighed, trying to channel my inner Mordechai. “There are other people who do that work,” I said gently. “I’m sure if you go to Rockdale Temple and ask, they can help.”
“No.” His mouth tightened, and his expression turned sour. “I’m tired of the search. Really tired. Half the ‘experts’ I’ve contacted think I’m making it up somehow. And I’m convinced half of them are stringers forParanormal Investigators. We’re not a sideshow, we’re people. Good people. And what’s happening to us is real.” He looked at me fiercely, as if I was going to disagree with him. When I didn’t, he glanced away. “I—I don’t want to search anymore.”
I bit my lip, nodded. “I totally get that.”
“But you canhelp.” Maxwell turned back, newly urgent. “That lady said you helped Rabbi Mordechai. That he’d chosen you or whatever to be his assistant, and that you actually went to her house on your own, and youhelped. Can you come out and, I don’t know—take a look? At the…at what’s going on?”
“No,” I said firmly, never mind the thrill that leapt within me. “No, really. I just helped Mordechai out on occasion. I didn’t do anything, not really.” I shoved down my own objections to my false modesty. Now was not the time for me to show off. This guy needed help. Serious, authenticated,consecratedhelp.
“But that woman and her sister?—”
“That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Max didn’t seem to be listening to me anymore, though. The hope was burning stronger in his eyes, and I knew I’d been the one to fan it. “Look—I just need someone to come out. To look at it. If you can tell me the right words to say, I can at least have a leg to stand on when I go find whoever Mordechai’s replacement is going to be.”
He scowled up at the rabbi’s tidy house. He probably had no idea about the office in the back, all of Mordechai’s binders. A lifetime’s work in a clapboard shack with a rickety airconditioner and threadbare chairs. “Assuming he’s going to get a replacement, that is. I’m going to have to start over.”
He looked back at me, panic rabbiting behind his eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to try toexplainthis to people? To tell them what’s going on?”
“Look, I’m sorry.” I made my words as gentle as I could, but the more I saw Max’s hope, his desperation, the more nervous I got. “I’m not your girl. I can’t help you with this.”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
The words were so unexpected, so bald and unvarnished in the soft morning air, that I could only blink at him. “What?”
“Ten thousand dollars.” He said it flatly, dismissively. “Just to come out and take a look at the house. Give your unprofessional, unauthorized opinion, but maybe write up something official-looking that I can take to a new…to someone who can help. That’s all I’m asking for.”
I couldn’t keep from staring. Ten grand. Rent for months. Gas. Food other than ramen and frozen peas, for at least a little while. The weight of it dragged on me harder than Max’s stare. “You’d pay me ten thousand dollars?—”
“Yes. I’ve got the money, don’t think I don’t. I already explained that to Mordechai.”
“He didn’t take money for his work.”
“Well, he should have.”
Take the job.
The voice had stopped clawing at me, punching in fury. Maybe it had realized that Max wasn’t the enemy—he was a guy with demons to exorcise.
Take the job,it hissed again.
I shoved the inner voice down as deep as I could push it while Max’s smile veered a little more toward confidence. “Think about it, okay?” he pressed. “I’ll be in town for another day or so anyway, trying to figure out what the hell to do. I don’t evenknow where to go at this point, who to talk to. Call me.” He handed me a slip of paper—an actual honest-to-God business card—that had his name and telephone number imprinted in gleaming raised letters.
I stared at it, dumbfounded. What was up with all the business cards this week? “You have your own card?” I managed.
“I also have ten thousand dollars. So please. Call me.”
Chapter
Eleven
It was Saturday, a few minutes after seven. Mordechai’s key felt wrong in my hand—too light for what I was about to do. But I didn’t have a choice anymore.
I needed answers.
Do you?
