CHAPTER EIGHTTHE VOODOO VOICE
Jesse met Carmen at The St. Louis Cemetery in New Orleans at 11:45 p.m. on a Tuesday night. She was nothing but a shadow in the darkness. The humid air smelled like molding mummies.
“It’s good to see you are right on time,” Carmen said. “I knew you would be.”
“What’s with the smell?” Jesse asked.
Carmen twitched her nose and tilted her head slightly to the right. “Your nose is playing tricks on you. You see all the tombs above ground and you think you smell them. There is no smell here. You will see as we enter the graveyard. Your nose will adjust to the lack of smell as your eyes adjust to the lack of light.”
“You’re all dressed up,” Jesse said. Carmen was wearing a long black dress with an embroidered, purple shawl draped over her shoulders. The red hai
