Marlene hovered near the ceiling, just above the spirit circle forming without benefit of table or chairs. Sitting on the floor wasn’t the best idea for this group. Besides, standing was faster for escape.
“Draw the blinds, please. I’ll light the candle, then I want everyone to grasp their neighbor’s hand and remain silent. Those of you who are watching, no whispering, please. It’s difficult to reach through the veil between this world and the next, and I need your cooperation. Say prayers, think good thoughts, but please, don’t speak.” Evie recited some of the nonsense she’d heard her mother say over the years. In actuality, she didn’t need any of that to reach a ghost she could already see.
She had no intention of summoning less predictable spirits if it could be avoided. That was too draining an exercise. She preferred Reuben’s more controllable surprises. With all the bigwigs in the boardroom, the offices were ripe for plucking. She simply needed an excuse to break in.
The darkened apartment finally grew quiet.
“Marlene Gump, are you present?” Evie intoned in her best spiritual advisor tone. “Can you make your presence known?”
Marlene snorted and slammed a closet door, then rattled some of the wine bottles. She was growing stronger in ability, if not focus.
Her audience gasped and seemed to shrink in on itself.
“Don’t release your grip,” Evie warned. “Marlene, are there other spirits present who might assist us on our journey?”
“You bet your bottom dollar,” Marlene muttered in Evie’s ear. “They’re pretty pathetic wraiths. Do you really want to call them up?”
Mentally, Evie laughed and said, “Not really.” Outwardly, she intoned, “Marlene is calling on those who have passed before.”
That produced titters and whispers. Evie slipped into third-eye mode and, through narrowed lids, observed auras. Charles/Barouche was as muddy as ever, his heart and spirit so shrunken that he barely had any colors left. He was rotting from the inside out. Evie almost felt pity for him.
She scanned the rest of the room, looking for fear or hatred or anything that might give her pause.Fear, of course, could mean almost anything, so she had to look deeper into those auras. Of the people who had carried food to Marlene, only Leticia Mortimer of the hot dish had a deep enough fear to be worrisome. But maybe she was just more afraid of ghosts than the others. Evie didn’t see guilt.
Despite Evie’s reluctance, Marlene and the candle drew other spirits. She had sensed paranormal activity throughout the residence. And here they were—insubstantial, faded auras reflecting anxiety and despair and a host of other wearisome characteristics not particularly helpful to her cause.
Still, she owed it to the spirit brigade to address them. It was only polite. “Marlene has gathered a few of those who have gone before. Does anyone have a question for a particular person?”
Mary Smith, of the frosted brownies, spoke up. Her aura was fairly clear, although a bit gray with fear. “Is Mary North present? Her children were concerned about her jewelry. Did she sell it?”
Mary North had gone on to the next plane, but Evie figured it wouldn’t hurt to answer for her. She closed her eyes and muttered a little—moaning really wasn’t her thing. Then she nodded and whispered, “Noooooo.”
Mary Smith looked indignant. “Do you know where it is?”
Evie shook her head, and in amusement, Marlene rattled a few more bottles. “They took it,” Evie reported in what she hoped was an appropriately sepulchral ghost voice. “Gooooonnne.”
“DoesMarleneknow what happened to the jewelry?” The tall ascetic lady asked.
Evie continued shaking her head. “Gooooonnnne. Found ring. Find killer.”
Before the very insistent Mary Smith could ask about the ring, Evie pressed the button Reuben had given her. The candle blew out and a hidden black light came on.
Glowing letters on the newly painted wall readHR office.
Shrieks and pandemonium ensued.
Even Evie panicked. That sign used to readVP’s office.She’d wanted to storm Bibb, the manager.
What had Marlene done?
Thirty-one
Finishinghis frustrating call with Professor Gump, Jax glared at the residence home. In the late afternoon sun, through thickening clouds, the apartment house merely looked shabby, not sinister. Evie was in there, conjuring ghosts in an attempt to break into the VP’s office...
While career criminals gathered in the boardroom, looking for tax escape hatches. A pity Jax couldn’t send in the real IRS.
Gump had admitted that he had read the files Jax’s team and Marlene had accumulated, but evenhishands were tied. A nest of bad men did not mean they had evidence of Marlene’s killer, especially since not one of Sunshine’s directors had been in Marlene’s room. Even Ursula had stayed outside.
The matter of interstate fraud was thornier and would take time to research. They couldn’t use illegally hacked evidence.