CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cassius Joyner lived a few neighborhoods away from me in Soulard, an area with French-inspired, colorful three-story row houses. The dormers and window trims were painted with pops of yellow, blue, and red.
The streets were narrow, with cars parked on both sides, and they were way too dark for my liking at night.
I preferred to meet Joyner at his supernatural apothecary in Soulard Market, which was a few blocks away. At least then I could take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the nation’s largest indoor farmer’s market. But a home visit would have to do.
The street lights were blinking on as Bo negotiated the narrow boulevards. Moo Moo stayed on our bumper.
Joyner’s house was a cozy brick house in the middle of a row. The black lacquered front door was inside
