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"It was on my curriculum as well," Lucas said.
"Okay, the high school dropout reveals herself again," Jaime said. "Hey, I knew the Stephen King answer. That oughtta get me a nice parting gift. So what's the Iliad about?"
"The Trojan War," I said.
"With the horse," Jaime said. "I knew that. Any supernaturals in the story?"
"There's an enchantress, Circe--no, that's the Odyssey."
"Unless, again, the spirit is mistaken about its literary references," Lucas said. "If it believed Salem's Lot was about witches, and the sorceress was from the Iliad..."
"Let's start there, then," Jaime said. "Witches whose last names start with D. You're a witch, so the ghost might assume you know--"
"Cassandra," I said, thumping my Palm down. "Cassandra the Prophetess, from the Iliad. Cassandra DuCharme, from the interracial council."
"Let me guess
," Jaime said. "This Cassandra is a witch."
"Vampire."
"Even better." Jaime looked to the ceiling. "Is that it? Do we win?"
No response.
"If it can't hear us, it'll need some other prompt," I said. "Hold on."
I grabbed my pen and notepad from the spilled contents of my purse, tore a sheet from the pad, and wrote CASSANDRA. I laid the sheet on the table. Again, the spirit gave no response.
"Well," Jaime said. "Three possibilities. One, we're flat-out wrong. Two, the spook has simmered down because we finally got the message. Three, it's illiterate."
"If the message is Cassandra, I still don't know what that means," I said.
"Why don't you call her," Lucas said. "See whether she can shed some light on this."
Paddling Upstream During a Hurricane
I USED OUR HOTEL ROOM PHONE TO CALL CASSANDRA. THIS was moderately indiscreet, and normally I'd have been more cautious, but the truth was, phoning from the hotel was the best way to ensure she'd answer. Cassandra was a call-screener, and not one who just ignored calls from strangers. She almost always let her machine pick up, then phoned back at her leisure. The only way to persuade her to answer was to pique her curiosity. A call from a Miami hotel just might do that.
Cassandra answered on the second ring.
"It's Paige," I said.
The line went silent and I could fairly hear Cassandra's annoyance buzzing down it. Short of "accidentally" pulling out the phone cord, though, there was little she could do. Well, she could hang up, but that would be crass, and Cassandra would never be crass.
"What is the problem, Paige?" she asked, voice dripping icicles.
"I had a question--"
"Oh, of course you do. Why else would you call? Just to chat, say hello? Hardly. Very presumptuous of you, Paige, to come asking for favors after what you've done to me with Elena."
"I haven't done--"
"I don't know what you've been telling her about me but, let me assure you, I will set her straight. I understand you feel threatened in your friendship with her, but--"
"Cassandra," I said sharply. "I haven't said anything to Elena about you. Why would I? If she's not taking your calls, then I'd suggest you ask her why not. Or better yet, ask yourself."
"What's that supposed to--"
