The Seance (5 page)

“Gran made us scour her copper collection every Sunday,” Mike put in, a nostalgic smile curving his lips.

“Yeah, and it was a pain in the butt,” Dan said, and grinned at Christina. “You gonna keep all that copper glowing forever?” he asked. His eyes indicated the array of copper pans and molds lining the special racks their grandfather had constructed to hold the collection.

“Of course,” she said.

“Better you than me,” Dan told her, laughing.

“Christina was always the keeper of the keys,” Tony said, lifting his beer to her.

“The keys?” Ilona said, puzzled.

“Christie was always the one who loved all the old family stuff,” Tony explained. He sounded slightly impatient.

“Oh,” Ilona said in a cool tone.

“I'm sorry,” Tony murmured, pulling her close.

“Get a room,” Dan teased.

Ilona laughed softly, blushing, and drew away from Tony.

“Why would they get a room when they have a perfectly good house?” Mike asked.

“Forget it, it's Ouija board time,” Ana announced.

“The parlor is a mess,” Christina said.

“We can just sit on the floor,” Ana said, waving away her objection. “We'll start with Tony and Ilona. Maybe the Ouija board can give us a wedding date.”

“Sure,” Tony said with a shrug.

Ilona giggled. “Shouldn't we dim the lights or something?”

“Why not?” Mike asked with a shrug, moving to the switch that controlled the lights.

Dan made a sound as if a soft and wicked wind were moving through the room.

Christina, arms folded against her chest as she leaned against the arched doorway, groaned.

Ilona and Tony set their fingers on the planchette, which began to move, finally settling over the
J.

“January,” Ana breathed.

“It's gotta be at least July,” Tony said. “We're just not ready yet.”

“Look at that,” Mike said as the planchette started moving around erratically. “She wants January, he won't be ready until July, and poor Mr. Ouija doesn't know what to do.”

“You're pushing it,” Tony accused Ilona.

“No—you're pushing it,” Ilona protested.

“Don't take it so seriously. It's just a game,” Mike said lightly, as if aware that a real argument was in the offing.

And that was all that it was: a game, Christina reminded herself.

“Fingers barely touching the planchette,” Ana advised. “Christina, come over here and help me show them how to do it.”

“Oh, all right. But we're not doing this all night,” Christina protested. She flashed a smile at Ilona. “I want to learn more about how you and Tony got together. Who cares when the wedding is? We'll all have a good time whenever you choose to have it—if we're invited, of course.”

“Of course you're invited,” Ilona said.

“All right, all right,” Ana said. “Just get down here.”

“Is it dark enough? Want it spookier?” Dan teased.

“That fog is spooky enough,” Ilona said, and shivered.

“It's just fog,” Christina said, barely managing not to shout. Damn. It wasn't like her to be so edgy, but it was unnerving to realize how closely she fit the description of the victim of a serial killer.

Either a copycat…

Or a maniac who had somehow escaped detection for twelve years.

“And don't forget the moon,” Ilona added.

“Are you thinking werewolves?” Tony teased her.

“There are enough real monsters out there,” Christina said. “There's no need to make up more.”

There was a sudden uncomfortable silence in the room. She realized she had snapped out the words rather than simply speaking them.

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. What was wrong with her? It was just…

It was just that stupid Ouija board and the idea of talking to spirits. She suddenly found the past welling up in her mind, a vision that was far too real. She could see Gran, after her grandfather had died. Sitting in her chair, looking at her so somberly. She'd dreamed that she'd talked to her grandfather. A psychology professor had once told her that such dreams were defense mechanisms, a way to reconcile oneself to losing someone. But Gran had said, “It's dangerous. You have opened a door….”

That was just Gran and the Irish speaking. She had never had such dreams again. Not even when she had lost her parents.

All of that was far behind her now. She was a perfectly rational, sane person, and it was just the Irish sense of fun that made them all pretend to believe in banshees and leprechauns and even dreams.

“Okay, Ana, let's show everybody how it's done,” she said, then lowered her voice teasingly. “It was a dark and stormy night…no, it was a dark and foggy night, with a strange, full moon rising above the mist.”

Her light banter didn't seem to be helping her mood any, she thought, and apparently it was obvious.

“You okay, Christie?” Mike asked.

“I'm fine,” she snapped.

“My fault,” Mike said. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—”

“Mike, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at anyone. I guess I'm just tired.”

“You're really okay?” Dan said softly.

“Yes, of course. Come on, Ana. Let's do this Ouija thing and be done with it, okay?”

“Hello, Ouija board,” Ana said, as if she were greeting an old friend.

Christina forced a grin, then set her fingertips very lightly on the planchette, which took off, slowly spelling out “Hello, good evening.”

“Is there a spirit in you tonight, Ouija board?” Ana asked.

“Is she for real?” Christina heard Tony whisper to Dan.

“Who knows?” Dan replied.

“Real? Real is what we make it,” Mike put in.

Christina knew that she wasn't moving the planchette, so Ana had to be the one causing it to spell out the answer.

“Y-E-S,” Ilona read softly.

“Who are you?” Ana asked.

They all stared as the planchette began to move again and Dan read aloud, “B-E-A-U-K-I-D-D…Bookid?”

“It must mean boo, kid,” Mike said. “Boo, like Halloween. Kid, like a trick-or-treater.”

“No,” Dan murmured. “B-E-A-U. Beau, like a man's name.”

“Like General Beauregard, the Confederate military leader,” Tony offered. “Right?”

“Beau Kidd. The detective who was supposedly the Interstate Killer!” Dan gasped.

“You did that on purpose!” Mike accused Ana.

“The hell I did,” she retorted adamantly.

“The thing moves by the power of suggestion,” Mike said impatiently.

“Ask him what he wants,” Dan said. “Watch—it will spell out, ‘I was framed. I'm innocent.'”

“What do you want?” Ana asked the spirit softly, ignoring Dan.

Christina gritted her teeth, longing to lift her fingers from the planchette, but somehow she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

The planchette continued to move.

It was Ana, damn her. She had to be forcing it.

But what was really unnerving Christina was that she didn't think Ana was forcing it.

Dan whispered behind them, “Puh-lease. You'd think we were still teenagers, telling scary stories out in the woods.”

“Be quiet. It's spelling something,” Ana said impatiently.

“H-E,” Mike began.

“L-P,” Dan finished.

“Help,” Ilona breathed.

“Hang on, it's not finished,” Christina said.

“They must be moving it,” Tony whispered to Ilona. “But they're good. Spooky, huh?”

“‘Help,' again,” Mike said. “It's getting kind of monotonous, don't you think?”

What other letters added to “help” would make another word? Christina wondered as the planchette kept moving.

“‘Help me please,'” Dan whispered.

The planchette was practically racing around the board.

Help me please help me please help me please….

Then, suddenly, it came to a definite stop in the middle of the board.

The room fell dead silent, even the doubters momentarily spellbound.

A thunderous knocking broke the silence and brought a scream from Ilona's lips. As if in response, the planchette seemed to rise and soar straight into the air.

And then they heard the front door burst open.

“W
hat the hell?” Dan demanded.

Jed stared back at his old family friend, wondering why he looked so spooked. Okay, maybe he'd opened the door a bit more forcefully than necessary, but it hadn't been locked.

Although even if it had been locked, he would have forced it open, anyway, he had to admit.

He was definitely on edge, he thought, but he'd also heard someone scream.

“You tell me,” Jed said to Dan. “What the hell is going on in here? I heard a scream.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Sorry.” He stepped back so Jed could come in and closed—and locked—the door after him. “Good to see you, Jed. The screamer was Ilona, Tony's fiancée. She got spooked after Ana insisted on playing with the Ouija board.”

“That's why the dim lights, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Daniel agreed dryly.

By then they had reached the parlor and Ana leapt up and rushed over to meet him, giving him a quick hug. “You made it.”

“I said I'd come,” he told her, looking past her to Christina Hardy, who was slowly rising. She was one of those women with the ability to do normally awkward things with the sinuous grace of curling ivy. She walked over, a small smile on her face, and gave him a quick, friendly hug in greeting. “Welcome. There's still barbecue in the kitchen.”

“Good. I'm famished.”

“Hi, Jed,” Mike said. “You know Tony, but have you met Ilona?”

Jed nodded toward the woman at Tony's side. They'd met briefly at the funeral. “Nice to see you again,” he told her.

“You, too,” Ilona said.

“Did you know Jed's a famous writer?” Mike asked.

“I'm not really famous,” Jed said quickly, embarrassed.

“Speaking of which, guess what name those two—” Mike paused to indicate Ana and Christina “—just dredged up. Beau Kidd.”

Jed frowned. Even if his nerves hadn't already been on edge, the name would have stung. Damn it, he thought. He hadn't caused what had happened to the cop. He had just built fiction around the facts of what had already happened.

Yeah. Fiction that clearly skewered the man.

“Beau Kidd?” he said, and he knew that his voice was harsh.

“Oh, Jed, don't sound so mad. We were just playing with the Ouija board,” Ana said.

“After talking about the recent murder,” Dan explained.

“Ouija board?” Jed said skeptically.

“Hey, blame Ana, not me,” Christina said lightly.

“I'm telling you, it spelled out his name,” Ana said stubbornly.

“Come in the kitchen, I'll warm up some food for you,” Christina said.

“Don't bother,” Ana teased. “He used to be a cop. He even eats cold pizza.”

“Well you don't have to eat cold barbecue,” Christina said firmly, then stared at him with those crystal-blue eyes of hers and smiled slowly. “Thanks for coming.”

He shrugged a little awkwardly. “Sure.”

She strode past him, smooth and sleek. He followed.

She was already reaching into the refrigerator by the time he stepped into the kitchen. She handed him a beer.

“So how's it going?” she asked after he thanked her, helping herself to one, as well, and leaning back against the counter. A subtle grin curved her lips. “When does your next book come out?”

He arched a brow. “Last month, actually.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“That's cool.”

“I should have kept up.”

“Amazingly, the entire world doesn't rush out to the store the minute a book of mine comes out.”

She flushed. “Yeah, well, I'm one of Ana's best friends. I should have known.”

“Not even all of Ana's friends rush out the minute I have a book on the shelves,” he assured her.

She smiled and dug into the refrigerator again. He realized with an inner smile that she had planned for his arrival as she pulled out a microwave-ready plate with chicken, ribs and corn on the cob.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said he was hungry. He'd showered, and the smell of the autopsy room no longer seemed to fill his nostrils.

But he couldn't forget the dead woman or what had happened at the cemetery.

Couldn't forget that Christina Hardy was a beautiful redhead.

He warned himself to get his thoughts under control. He couldn't let himself become obsessed with this, couldn't let it consume him and everyone around him.

“So how's it going in jingle land?” he asked. “What's your latest?”

Her smile deepened as she played with the dial on the microwave. “‘Come to the Grand, walk on the sand, hear the steel band, sunsets and glory, the minute you land,'” she sang lightly.

“That was you? I hear it all the time,” he told her.

“It's a great resort,” she told him. “I was given a comp weekend when I was hired, so I got to check it out for free. It's one of those all-inclusive places. Really nice. You step out from your private bungalow right onto the beach.”

“Nice work if you can get it,” he teased.

“As long as I am working.”

“Well, this place is worth a mint,” he told her.

“I'd panhandle before I sold this house,” she assured him passionately, then seemed embarrassed by the emotion she had betrayed. She offered him a wry smile. “Hmm. And are you suggesting I won't get work?”

He laughed. “Never,” he vowed solemnly.

The microwave beeped. She reached in for his plate, and he walked over to take it from her. The scent of barbecue was strong, but her perfume was more alluring. He remembered how, years ago, he had thought she was a pain in the butt and wished she and Ana would go away.

Things certainly changed, he thought wryly.

She smiled and brushed by on her way to get him a fork, knife and napkin. His muscles tightened. Hell, yes, things changed.

Ana appeared in the kitchen. “Hurry up,” she said to Christina. “You're the only one who can make that stupid Ouija board work.”

“I wasn't doing anything,” Christina protested.

Jed felt his muscles tighten again, and not in a good way.

“Beau Kidd?” he said to Christina.

She flushed. “I swear, I didn't make it do anything,” she protested.

“Whatever you say,” he said curtly.

He hadn't meant to be so brusque. She barely moved, but he could feel her stiffen from across the room.

“It's just that I worry, okay?”

She sighed. “I know. I'm a redhead.”

“A beautiful redhead,” he told her, trying to atone.

“I'm a big kid, and I've lived on my own for a long time now. I don't do stupid things.”

“Don't assume that all victims are stupid.”

“I'm not. But I am careful,” she told him. “Really.” She was irritated. Why not? It was a good cover-up for being frightened.

She walked out of the kitchen, toward the parlor. He followed her, keeping his distance and stopping in the doorway.

“You made that name—Beau Kidd—appear,” Mike said, staring accusingly at Christina.

“I sure as hell didn't,” she replied, and her voice betrayed her annoyance. “Twelve years ago, I was thirteen and my mom turned the news off every time something came on TV that she thought I shouldn't know about. In fact, my parents used to argue about it. My dad thought I needed to be aware of what was going on in the world, but my mom just thought I was too young to know some things—no, a lot of things.”

“You still must have heard the name,” Dan said. He was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, arms folded over his knees.

“I'm sure I did, but a lot has happened since then, in my life and in the world,” she informed him, her tone irritated. “I didn't move the planchette.”

“Right. Beau Kidd did it himself, because there is no copycat killer and he wants us to know he's innocent,” Mike murmured dryly.

“Maybe he didn't do it,” Ana said. “And maybe his spirit did move the planchette.”

“Now you're scaring me,” Jed teased his cousin.

She frowned, staring at him with a stubborn set to her jaw. “Oh, right, Mr. He-man. There's no possibility that anything you haven't seen for yourself could possibly be real.”

“What's the phrase? A ghost in the machine?” Tony said, his tone light, as if he were hoping to lift the tension that had suddenly filled the room.

“If there were a ghost here, it would be Gran, yelling at us,” Dan said, grinning, and evoking smiles from the others at last.

“Was she mean?” Ilona asked.

“Heavens, no,” Christina said. “But she had a very clear vision of right and wrong.” She flashed a smile. “I don't think she'd be yelling. We haven't messed anything up.”

“Well, she wasn't all that fond of the way I'm running my life,” Dan said, shrugging. “I tried to explain to her that I intend to be more than Raccoon Ralph.”

“And you will be,” Christina said. “You're going to be Zeus.”

“Right. And Halloween is around the corner. I'll get to play some pretty scary stuff,” Dan said.

“The three-year-olds are trembling in their boots,” Ana teased, then suggested, “Why don't we ask the Ouija board when you'll get your big break?”

Mike groaned. “I'm getting another beer.” He started down the hall, almost crashing into Jed, who was still standing in the doorway. “Beer?” he suggested.

“Yeah, sure, one more,” Jed said, heading to the kitchen with him.

A few seconds later, they heard a loud and startled clamor from the parlor.

They frowned at each other and rushed back to the other room. Jed was in the lead, and when he reached the arched doorway, he was almost hit in the head with the planchette.

“Hey, who threw that?” he demanded. Ducking had saved him from a good shot right in the face.

“She did,” Ana said, pointing to Christina.

“I did not!” Christina protested.

Ana met his eyes, looking more than a little scared. “It…it was like it got mad and flew cross the room,” she said.

“Ana, get a life,” Jed snapped.

“What's going on?” Mike demanded from just behind Jed.

“We asked it if Dan was going to get the part he wants,” Christina said.

“And it spelled out ‘help' again,” Ilona said, eyes wide.

“They're pulling your leg, Ilona,” Mike told her.

Ana let out a long, aggrieved sigh.

“Whatever. Let's put the stupid thing away,” Christina said. Without waiting for anyone to agree, she reached for the box.

“Throw the stupid thing away,” Dan suggested.

“Christina, throw an old treasure away?” Tony teased. “Never.”

“It's a good thing I don't throw anything away. You might recall a box I packed up when a few people forgot about it after one Christmas dinner,” Christina said, looking from Mike to Dan and smiling complacently.

“Yes, and we appreciate it,” Dan said, then explained to the others. “We got bonds for Christmas one year when we were kids. We forgot all about them, but Christina stuck them in a box and held on to it. Our bonds matured and ended up being worth a bundle.”

“And we thank her for it,” Mike said, then turned to Christina. “Want me to help you pack anything up?” he asked as he turned up the dimmer switch.

“No, but thank you for the appreciation.” She rose from the floor as gracefully as ever.

Dan yawned, then apologized. “Sorry, but I've got to go. I'm on first shift tomorrow. Costuming at seven in the morning for the eight o'clock breakfast. This was fun. Thanks, Ana. Christina.”

“I should take off, too,” Jed said, anxious to get away. He still couldn't get the autopsy off his mind, and the last thing he needed was to spend the evening at a party where the conversation kept turning to Beau Kidd.

“Christina, Ana, thanks for dinner, and, Christie, welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks for coming,” she said, and walked over to him for a brief hug. There was still something reserved between them.

His fault, she decided as he waved to the others and started toward the door.

“This is your home, too, just like always,” he heard Christina tell her cousins as they followed a few steps behind.

“Thanks, kid,” Dan told her. “But one day you might have a sex life, and you wouldn't want us walking in on you.”

“Let's go,” Mike said. “I don't want to hear about my little cousin's sex life, okay?”

“Would you rather walk in on it?” Dan asked.