Loretta crouched down to examine it. “It has words on it!”
“And a date. They wrote funny all those years ago, but whoever carved the letters did so in a manner that’s kept them clear for centuries.” Evie knew the words by heart. It was part of her heritage and that of every Malcolm in the territory.
“Priscilla Malcolm, mother, witch, beloved, 1680-1752. Wow, that’s old!”
“She would have been just a little older than you when she was accused of being a witch back in New England. Her family brought her to Afterthought, although I don’t think there was a town then. This was our original homestead.”
“Your cousin is named after her?” Loretta began inspecting other stones buried under various groundcovers, daffodils, and wild roses.
“My family is weird. They like keeping the old names alive. You can come back here anytime you like. Why don’t we take a look at the pond now?”
Obligingly, Loretta abandoned her tombstone search and trailed after Evie. Her ghosts trailed along with her. The stronger one seemed more agitated than usual. Loretta swatted aside vines and branches and aimed directly at the glimmer of water ahead. “If I’d known we had ancestors here before the Revolutionary War, I could have had a better report than anyone else in my class when we had to tell where our families came from.”
The ghosts got larger and clearer.
Evie took Loretta’s hand when they reached the muddy bank. “Close your eyes. Let me try to hear your parents.”
Her pansy blue eyes darkened. “How?”
“Trust me, okay? I don’t promise anything, but I need to try. Remember, I can see auras?” Which let her see spirits, but Evie didn’t try to explain. She needed Loretta to relax and let go of her fears—and her parents.
Loretta obligingly held Evie’s hands and closed her eyes.
“Think about bubbles,” Evie suggested softly. “Try to remember your parents’ bubbles.”
Her own eyes open, Evie watched the lighter shadow detach and shimmer in the afternoon heat. “Now, let go of those bubbles, if you can. Just open your mind and let it go blank. Breathe deeply.”
Apparitions didn’t usually talk—except inside Evie’s head. She’d much rather send them on to the light or the next plane of existence than communicate. The shimmer hesitated uncertainly. “Go,” Evie whispered. “Let go. She’ll be fine.”
“I hear her!” Loretta shouted, unexpectedly. “I think I hear my mom. I think she’s angry. I heard a bad word.” Her eyes popped open and she looked around eagerly. “She must be close, right?”
The shimmer popped and disappeared. Evie sighed. The bigger, darker shadow grew even more solid. “She was right here, kiddo. She was trying to say goodbye, I’m sure. Did her bubble go away?”
Loretta’s eyes darkened and puddled. “No! She’s not dead! She was right here. Iheardher.” She jerked her hands from Evie’s and began running around, searching under bushes.
Dang, it was so hard to know how to handle these things. Charming, if the last word Loretta heard from her mother was a curse. Evie waited, watching the dark shadow pulsing with more energy as it hesitantly followed Loretta, then lingered nearer Evie when the child roamed further.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Post,” she murmured. “I’m doing all I know to do. If there’s something you need to tell us, I’m open. We really will look after Loretta as if she’s our own. She’s in good hands. But it would be nice to know what happened to you.”
She thought she heardDeedswhispering in her head.Deskpopped in next.Look.
The shadow reattached to Loretta as if channeling her energy.
“What about your dad?” Evie called to her distraught charge. “Did you see his bubble? Hear him? Want to try again?”
“No! I know they’re alive. They’re not stupid ghosts.” Giving up her search, Loretta marched back toward the road. “I’m gonna make Mr. Roark look harder.”
The shadow attached to her seemed somehow sadder. Evie tried not to cry since it served no purpose, but her eyes were wet as she followed her newfound cousin down the road. She didn’t think there was any doubt that the Posts were dead—and they were in the pond.
There was some possibility that the Posts didn’t know that, especially if they’d been killed elsewhere.
* * *
Jax wason Evie’s front lawn, checking the angle of the images beamed from the security cameras to his phone, when Loretta stormed up. He glanced over her head to see Evie trailing dejectedly behind. That the genie wasn’t bouncing and smiling or glaring at him spoke volumes, if he could read genie-speak.
“Are you looking for my parents?” the kid demanded as soon as she was in range. “If you’re not looking for them, then you can go home. I’ll find someone else.”
Ooookay. Evie’s look of defeat told him things had not gone well on the search of the pond, which was to be expected. Of course, Jax didn’t have a better idea. “We’re tracing their last known location.” That sounded good.