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"He’s my uncle"

At that, the cabbie fell blessedly quiet

At last the taxi turned onto a side street near Central Park and pulled up to the rit and steel of Manhattan, theout of tie, soot, and vines Evie glanced froy shadow before her to the beautiful house in her photograph "You sure this is the joint?"

"This is the place Museum of the Creepy Crawlies That’ll be one dollar and ten cents"

Evie reached into her pocket and pulled out nothing but the lining Withalarm, she searched all her pockets

"Whatsa matter?" The cabbie eyed her suspiciously

"My ht in this pocket and… and it’s gone!"

He shook his head "Mighta known Probably a Bolshevik, like your uncle Well, little lady, I’ve had three fare jumpers in the past week Not this time You owe me one dollar and ten cents, or you can tell your story to a cop" The cabbie signaled to a policeman on horseback down the block

Evie closed her eyes and retraced her steps: The tracks The druggist’sSam Lloyd Sam… Lloyd Evie’s eyes snapped open as she recalled his sudden passionate kiss There’s just so about you… There sure was--twenty dollars Not an hour in the city and already she’d been taken for a ride

"That son of a…" Evie swore hard and fast, stunning the cabbie into silence Furious, she pulled her ee, and then slammed the taxi door behind her

"Hey," the cabbie yelled "How’s about a tip?"

"You bet-ski," Evie said, heading toward the old Victorianbehind her "Don’t kiss strange le’s-head door knocker and waited A plaque beside the museum’s massive oak doors read HERE BE THE HOPES AND DREAMS OF A NATION, BUILT UPON THE BACKS OF MEN AND LIFTED BY THE WINGS OF ANGELS But neither els answered her knock, so she let herself in The entry was ornate: black-and-white ilded sconces High above, the pale blue ceiling boasted aover a field of Revolutionary soldiers The building se Evie’s heels echoed on thehall "Hello?" she called "Uncle Will?"

A wide, elaborately carved staircase wound up to a second-floor landing lit by a large stained-glass , and then curved out of sight To Evie’s left was a glooht, pocket doors opened onto awooden table and thirteen damask-covered chairs looked as if they hadn’t been used in years

"Holy smokes Who died?" Evieroolass

" ‘The Museum of the Creepy Crawlies,’ I presu the typewritten cards placed beneath:

GRIS GRIS BAG AND VOUDON DOLL,

NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA