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“I need to read the law, but I’m pretty sure videotaping people without their permission is illegal.” Larraine Ward, dressed casually in spangled jeans and cinched tunic, settled on the big couch. “And if it’s not, I want you to put cameras in all my offices.”

“That cat’s well out of the bag. Security video is everywhere.” Jax helped himself to a sandwich and leaned on the table next to Evie. “They’re perfectly legal in public, if you own the property, but not where there is any expectation of privacy, like a bathroom. So any space open to the public is perfectly fine, unless specific regulations forbid it. You have every right to allow cameras in offices you own, but Starbucks can forbid you to set them up on their premises.”

Ward flicked her long fingernails over her pearl cellphone, taking notes. “I like that. Maybe I’ll just start with those nanny cams. I suppose using them for blackmail isn’t kosher?”

Jax waved his sandwich. “You put those videos up online, and everyone in them will come after you with guns and lawyers. They might not win, but it won’t be pretty.”

Loretta bounced on a vinyl ball she used as a seat. “I don’t like videos. I want to be right there when the bad guys are interrogated so I can see their bubbles.”

“We’ll just let you meet them on the street and you can report back to us,” Evie said reassuringly. “It doesn’t do any good to tell Troy if the bad guy has a shriveled bubble. First, though, you should learn what a shriveled bubble means.”

“Jax’s bubble isn’t shriveled anymore.” She eagerly watched Reuben setting up the TV and didn’t even glance back at Jax. “It’s growing.”

Evie bumped his hip. “Is Ariel streaming this?”

“I gave her the link, but she’s busy sending me financial statements from DVM and Sovereign and calculating how much they owe us in royalties. We may be my first client.” Jax abandoned her to unfold chairs for the arrival of more of Evie’s family.

Mavis was already ensconced on the most comfortable seat next to Ward. They were exchanging notes on campaign logos and the astrologically best days to hold rallies. Gracie carried in popcorn, then filled her plate with the scrumptious hors d’oeurves Ward had paid Pris to provide. R&R had already eliminated most of Evie’s cookies.

“Aunt Val sent this, did you see?” Gracie produced her phone and showed a headline from the Charleston paper announcing a federal indictment for voter fraud against DVM and its directors, including the Swensons. Beneath it was a subhead broadcastinglocal investigative firmresponsible for uncovering illegal dealings, possible murder charges pending.

“We’re not local,” Evie pointed out. “We’re not even a Charleston suburb—yet.” They might have been, eventually, if Mayor Blockhead had sold Witch Hill to the developers.

“Yourcompany nameis in the paper. Update your website and install a better phone system.” Gracie wandered off.

“Bet they didn’t mention ghostbusting,” Evie muttered, but she was relieved that they wouldn’t. She didn’t want every widow and grieving child calling to ask where granny left the will.

“You don’t get respect because you don’t respect yourself,” Jax said through a mouthful of smoked ham and sourdough. He finished chewing before adding, “If you hadn’t talked to Clancy’s ghost, we’d never have gone in that direction, and Grandma Swenson would still be on the loose.”

“It was a family affair.” Evie twitched a little at his comment, but she supposed there was some truth in it. She was twenty-five and hadn’t accomplished much, but maybe there was hope. “I can’t believe Senator Gus Swenson was with his mother when she threw the dynamite and covered up the murder for years. I suppose he’ll claim he didn’t know Jackson was in the mine or that she ordered Clancy to get rid of your parents. Hard to say on that one. She should have been the politician, except women got no respect back then. She had to work through her husband and son and grandson, so persuasion was her best asset. Clancy’s ambition made him easy to persuade.”

“Courthouse gossip says Clancy wanted to marry the daughter who ran off with the sheik.” Ignoring the carrot sticks, Jax grabbed another tiny sandwich. “Mama Swenson apparently promised he’d be governor instead, if he’d just remove the threat to DVM’s future. Roark sent Troy some info he dug out about Clancy’s car from way back then, not that it’s of much use now that Clancy’s dead. Clancy reported it stolen. The cops found it with the front end crushed.”

“Does it help having evidence that Clancy killed your parents?” Evie asked him anxiously. His aura was glowing with justice.

“It gives me big shoes to fill knowing they died fighting fraud,” he admitted.

“Shhh,” Reuben gestured for silence and flipped the switch.

The scene from city hall played out. They’d edited it for effect, but Evie had been there and saw no reason to live through it again. She stirred the dip and refilled glasses around the cellar. She settled next to Jax again when the clips from his office came up. Watching grandma fall on top of Jax again still wasn’t amusing. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back, then fed her one of the cute sandwiches with strange paste in the middle.

She appreciated the part where Sheriff Troy wrestled a terrified Teddy Swenson back into Jax’s office to see grandma trussed with computer cords and screaming curses like a dockworker. Reuben had bleeped out the obscenities with a different musical note identifying each word, so it now sounded like a bad xylophone tune. The note assigned to “ass” was a bass one and began to sound like a tolling bell after enough repetition. Evie giggled at that.

“She said I had to shut Pendleton up,” Teddy tried to explain in the video, over the xylophone beeps. “I didn’t know what she’d done. She just said the old lawyer could ruin us all, and I had to keep him from sending personal files to our enemies. I thought she was talking about sending dirt to my opponent in the next election.”

“How did she even know Pendleton was sending the files?” Jax asked on the film.

Evie had time to admire how sexy he looked in rumpled shirt and loose tie. His shirt had come loose in the struggle with grandma, and coffee stained his trousers, but he looked as cool and collected as if he’d spent the day pushing papers.

“My mother called her,” Teddy said in disgust. “She was excited that Franklin’s son had come to visit, and then they started gossiping about how much he looked like some Ives person. Grandma made me tail him and take a photo to send her and to see what he was up to. She got real worried when she saw the photo of him leaving the bank with that legal file.”

A splice from Conan Oswin’s video cut in showing Donna Ortiz talking to some unknown observer. “I didn’t think it hurt to tell her about old files from dead men,” Donna said on the film. “We were speculating that maybe Franklin married Mr. Ives’ girlfriend to give her baby a name. I had no idea that Marilyn thought she’dkilledMr. Ives! I mean, I don’t understand that at all. She had everything! Why would she do that? She’d never even met either of them!”

Which explained how Franklin had died instead of Aaron.

A voice steered her back on track, and Donna wiped away tears. “All I did was tell her that Mr. Pendleton thought it was okay to send all those old files to Mr. Jackson and his client. After all, the files had belonged to Mr. Jackson’s father. And then Teddy came in and asked for the keys to the truck, and I just forgot all about it. I had a lot to do that day, and I was running late.”

“You have to feel sorry for her.” Evie finished the tiny sandwich and reached for another carrot. “The Swensons pretty much ruined her life, one way or another. She worked hard and took pride in her son and tried to raise him right, but money and bad genetics won out.”


Tags: Patricia Rice Psychic Solutions Mystery Fantasy