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Monday, after supper, she tossed her niece, Aster, and Loretta into a wild game of Twister while she ran back to the house to prepare for whatever Jax had planned. Her family was more than capable of looking after the kids.

It was stupid, macho Jax she worried about. As her thoughts had percolated all day, she’d realized this killer wasn’t into well-planned murder. They reacted to circumstance. They threw dynamite down a mine, drove a car off a road, whacked old men at their desks... Well, Clancy’s death had required peanuts but not much else.

She was counting on this lack of thought to hope the killer didn’t even know Ariel or Loretta or anyone else existed. He or she would be focused onJax. His military intelligence had probably worked that out too, damn the man. If he kept her out of this gathering...

They were having a come to Jesus meeting.

Monday evening, in the lingering summer light, Evie biked straight down Main Street where everyone could see her. No car tried to run her over. She considered that a positive sign.

The sheriff’s car was parked in front of city hall, in a space reserved for council members. Jax’s Harley was here. So was R&R’s van, illegally usurping the mayor’s space. There was a fancy black Cadillac with dark windows concealing anyone inside and a bright pink Escalade emblazoned with Ward’s campaign logo. She laughed at that. If Larraine was here, this might be fun.

So far, she saw no sign that Jax meant to exclude her.

She locked her bike to Jax’s Harley. He wouldn’t appreciate that, but she wasn’t having him driving off into the sunset again. Maybe California had been necessary, but he had responsibilities now. And she wanted his respect, even if she couldn’t get it from anyone else. That ghost was going to dance tonight.

To Evie’s surprise, Bernice opened the outer door. The stout older woman had worked in the mayor’s office these last ten years or more. She ratted her gray hair to make it look fuller and probably used a filler to puff out the frizzy french roll in back. Evie had never seen her with any expression other than a mild frown of disapproval. Tonight wasn’t any different.

“I hope they’re paying you overtime, Bernice. How’s your mother?” Evie sauntered into the air-conditioned lobby. Behind the reception desk, the window blinds had been pulled on the office where they were meeting. The cold draft warned Clancy’s spirit was still around and agitated.

“Mr. Jackson-Ives said he’d reimburse me for my time. It’s the most I could do for poor Mr. Clancy.” Spine stiff as a flagpole, she led Evie to the office door. “My mother is unlikely to recover. We’re bringing her home for hospice care.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Bernice. You know my family will help out in any way you need. You just have to let us know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. Your mother’s always been good to us. You’re the last to arrive. I think I put out enough chairs.”

She was expected! Satisfaction settled over her like a warm blanket, keeping her warm even after Bernice opened the office door to a blast of frigid air.

More heads than Evie expected swiveled at her entrance. Confident that Jax wanted her here, she waved merrily at Geoff the CPA and Hank from the hardware, who’d probably both walked over from work. Larraine gave her a big grin and pointed at her pink cowboy hat with her logo on it. Evie gave her a thumbs up before studying the only outsider in the room—Ted Swenson. Wasn’t he supposed to have left town?

Senator Gus was a no-show, dang. Given that Jax was offering up his patents, it was interesting that none of the owners of DVM had shown up. Maybe Teddy acted for them.

Bernice picked up a digital notepad on a chair out of the action and sat down.

Jax sat in the back corner with the flagpole, behind Sheriff Troy at the desk. Evie wiggled her fingers at both of them and slid into the last chair against the wall beside Bernice, sort of behind everyone else. She settled back and opened her third eye to find Clancy. His aura was twirling like a red tornado and bouncing back and forth with no direction.

The sheriff continued speaking. “I called you here because we have a problem. With no mayor and no county attorney to provide advice, you gentlemen will have to give us direction on what to do about the voting machines that have been removed from the city’s possession.”

“I don’t see the problem, Sheriff.” Swenson took command, as one would wish a leader to do. He was still pudgy and rumpled but didn’t appear fazed by the impromptu meeting. “Our contract specifies that the machines will be removed after ten years. Software updates require hardware updates after that period of time. We built in a replacement clause to cover those circumstances. The council merely needs to vote to invoke it or look elsewhere for their devices.”

Clancy’s ghost swirled, giving off sparks Evie interpreted as confusion and anger. He wasn’t flinging anything yet.

The sheriff handed out stapled papers. “Hank, you’re current chair of the council and, like Ms. Ward here, will be affected by the outcome of this decision when the mayoral election rolls around. I want everyone to be on the same page.”

Hank and Geoff looked a little shocked at whatever they’d been handed. Evie checked auras. Guilt and confusion colored Geoff’s. Uh oh.

The sheriff continued explaining. “If you’ll look at the underlined paragraph, you can see that the contract Mayor Block signed, and the council approved, there is nothing about physically removing the machines. I had the county judge read this, and he assures me that the county owns them outright. Now, if the councilvotedto have DVM remove the machines, then as chair, Clancy was well within his rights to act on the council vote. But there is nothing in the minutes pertaining to trading in the machines.”

The red tornado swirled in agitation. Wind ruffled papers around the room.

In Evie’s head, the ghost’s fury came through loud and clear:He said he’d fix them for me and no one would know if I just signed the release! He never meant to help, bastards and bitches, all of them!

OK, here’s where it got awkward. Evie had learned from a very young age that she couldn’t talk to a ghost in front of a roomful of nonbelievers without seeming crazy. No one listened to crazy people—which was why she got no respect. If she was to use her talent responsibly, she had to think this through and behave rationally—even if she wanted to yank all their chains.

Taking a deep breath, she focused on Geoff and Hank. They were still grayer and murkier than usual. The contract had disturbed them—because they thought all the copies had been destroyed? They’d certainly done their best to find out.

Geoff had been with Clancy right before he died.So had Bernice. She glanced in the secretary’s direction. No guilt but a shade of... uncertainty? Bernice wasn’t as domineering as she liked to pretend.

Okay, here’s where she behaved like a responsible citizen. Evie raised her hand, and the sheriff nodded at her. Good ol’ Troy.


Tags: Patricia Rice Psychic Solutions Mystery Fantasy