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Jackson countered by clipping on an earpiece and keying a button on his watch. Mavis frowned in concern. Evie took a seat on the counter stool and spun it in circles. She hoped Loretta was hiding somewhere comfortable. Evie’s chances of forcing Jackson to believe her before she saw the inside of a courtroom were right about even with convincing the Supreme Court that psychics exist.

“Roark?” Jackson apparently spoke into some invisible mic. “Loretta’s in Afterthought. Send in the team, will you? We’ve got a couple of flakes who are holding her for ransom.”

“Now that’s an outright lie!” Mavis exclaimed. “You set that man straight right now. The very idea! I’ll have you know Malcolms have been upright citizens for centuries. Our duty is to protect our children!”

Jackson barked a few more orders before signing off and gazing down at Mavis who now stood half a foot below his nose, waving a cinnamon broom at him.

“Better watch out, she’s been known to whack people with it,” Evie warned, still idly spinning. “Mom, if you can sweep the trash out, the energy in here would be much clearer.”

“I’m getting lunch. When the brat shows up, send her next door to me, or my team will find her for you.” Good as his word, lovely Jackson stalked out.

Well, she’d never liked military cuts. An unbelieving lawyer wouldn’t give her any respect anyway.

Which was another good reason she’d never have a private investigator’s license. She was damned good at what she did, but no one ever believed her.

“Oh, dear, you’ve made him angry. Perhaps I better not leave you alone.” Mavis returned the broom to the wall.

“He’s always angry, Mom. I’m guessing from the gray in his fourth chakra that he’s suppressing some vital part of him, and he’s likely to explode like a pressure cooker one of these days. It’s not our job to worry about Jackson. Do you know where Loretta’s hiding?”

“I don’t even know who Loretta is, dear, but if it’s the little girl with glasses, she’s up on the widow’s walk at the bank. It’s not very safe up there.”

Evie sighed and wished her twisted brain would come up with an easy solution. “Once histeamshows up, she won’t be safe anywhere. Loretta is a Malcolm, by way of the Savannah Posts. She says she’s a millionaire and someone is trying to kill her. She gave some convincing examples of a few dangerous accidents involving dropping jardinières and tree branches—provided she’s not lying. I don’t suppose you know anywhere we can keep her until I work this out?”

“Do you think that’s wise, dear?” Mavis frowned worriedly. “Shouldn’t she be with her family?”

“Probably not until I talk to the ghost following her. Or following Jackson. Or both. Or at least find out who inherits her millions,” Evie added gloomily. She’d watched enough mystery shows to know what happened to millionaires. Too bad Loretta’s parents hadn’t figured out that money couldn’t buy life.

“Well, that’s all right, then,” Mavis agreed, “if you know what to do.”

Mavis was probably the only mother in the world who wouldn’t question ghosts or Loretta’s millions. She lived in a fascinating realm of immediate concerns that dissipated the moment she expressed them.

“Why don’t I have Bill run up and fetch the child and show her the old bank vault? They can have lunch in there,” Mavis suggested, as if people ate lunch in bank vaults every day.

Ever since Mavis had told Bill Wright he was destined to be bank president, he had gratefully satisfied Mavis’s eccentric requests. Until then, he’d been far too shy to apply for the job he now held.

“Loretta’s already had pizza and ice cream, but the vault sounds good,” Evie agreed. “Maybe I can find the spirit and talk to it without Loretta or Jackson present, although I’m thinking it won’t be easy.” Ghost-busting was much simpler than ghost-talking, butc’est la vie.

“I’ll stay with Loretta until you’re ready. Let Gracie know and don’t take too long.” Mavis walked out with a happy wave now that she had a direction.

Evie tried to decide whether being prescient like her mother or talking to dead people was easier, but it was an old argument to keep herself distracted, and she didn’t get any further with it than before. Like Mavis, she needed direction.

Summoning ghosts wasn’t easy. It would be more practical to surround Loretta with her ownteam.Evie debated dialing her cousin Idonea. Iddy got all the sexpot genes in the family. Raven hair, tall and slinky, she projected the common image ofwitch. Ideally, Iddy would hex Jax.

Unfortunately, Iddy had a perky personality, talked to animals, and was a vet. Still, she was good to have around.

Wondering what kind of team jumped when Macho Man called, Evie phoned Iddy.

“Heard you cornered a hunk this morning, Evio,” Iddy answered. “Spill.”

“The hunk is over at Gertie’s café, courting food poisoning with chicken sandwiches. Want to take your latest experiment over and find out more?”

“About food poisoning or hunks? Because if I have a choice, I choose hunks. There’s a dire dearth in this town.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. He’s out to nail my hide to a courtroom door, so have at him.” Evie’s nose twitched at the lie. She didn’t want Iddy to have at Jackson until she’d had her chance. But she was nothing if not realistic. Sort of. In an existential sort of way. “I need to speak with the ghost he brought to town.”

Vaguely, she wondered if Loretta’s turbulence had brought multiple ghosts to town and if one had simply hooked up with the lawyer. She needed far more information than she currently possessed.

“Ooooo, a haunted hunk. Okay, but I don’t think La Chusa is trained well enough to help. I’ll try, though. Let me find someone to cover for me or the doggies will go hungry.”


Tags: Patricia Rice Psychic Solutions Mystery Fantasy