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"I was only in the penalty box. Again. Might as well serve my time here." A murmured incantation. The stick vanished and the skates changed to shoes. "What can I do for you?"
"I need Eve. And now it's urgent."
I told Kristof the story. He insisted on every detail, then tried to make contact with the spirits himself.
"There's something here," he said, frowning. "I can make out...flashes. And I heard the whispers, on both this side and the other."
"As if they're caught between the two."
"I don't like jumping to conclusions, but yes, I suppose so. And they may be children--your deduction is sound enough, but one has to be careful presenting a case to the Fates. Unlike human jurors, they aren't swayed by supposition, sympathy and theatrics. They deal in facts. The fact in this case is that these spirits exist, and they appear to be unable to cross either way. I'll ask them to send Eve back."
"Will it be enough?"
"It better be."
THE CATERER hadn't finished setting up for breakfast, so I went into the kitchen and helped myself to a coffee.
"Another early riser, I see," Becky said, walking in as I added cream.
I told her I'd been outside meditating. If I was going to be spending more time in the garden, it was good to establish an alibi up front, and this was one I always used in any situation where I might be seen sitting on the ground, talking to myself.
"Sounds like you found a little peace in this insanity. Now I really hope that I'm not about to undo that." She looked troubled. "It's about Grady. He's still upset about the other night. I don't think I handled that as well as I could have. Now he's demanding--through Claudia of course--that he get a private performance to compensate."
I could feel her gaze on me, studying my reaction.
"Sounds fair to me," I said.
"Thank God," she breathed. "You're such a trouper, Jaime. I swear I won't let him steamroll over you after this."
"He's not steam--"
"He may be a huge name overseas. But you're a huge name here. I won't let him forget that. There'll be no more costar bashing on this show."
"Costar bashing?"
"I won't stand for it. Now, about this private seance. Do you mind watching, just to show support?"
BEFORE WE headed into breakfast, Becky's assistant, Will, came to tell her he'd conveyed the same invitation to the private seance to Angelique, but she'd refused, claiming she had a manicure appointment. Becky fumed, and I offered to talk to Angelique, but she didn't want me getting involved.
Over breakfast, we discussed the seance.
"First, where to conduct it?" Becky said. "Mr. Simon has checked all records for this house, and the only reference to a death he could find was some has-been producer who hanged himself. For excitement, that rates about a two. Must-snore TV."
I glanced at the hanging residual and sent up a silent apology to his ghost, wherever it was.
Grady leaned forward, tapping his knife on the table. "Perhaps, but it's the ones whose deaths weren't reported that are the most entertaining."
"Accidental deaths, you mean?"
A smile creased his tanned face. "No, purposeful. Very purposeful. I have felt a dark presence in this house, a force of great evil, death so vile, so despicable that the heart freezes at the very thought--"
Claudia motioned for him to take it down a notch.
He cleared his throat, then sliced into his egg. "I have, you see, some experience with these things."
"And you sense...evil in this house?"
"Not surprisingly. It is in the seats of power that the demonic reigns. Those who crave the trappings of power--wealth, fame, beauty--are often driven into the service of Satan to achieve their goals." He turned to Claudia. "Have we ever visited a castle or an ancestral home where I haven't found evidence of satanic rites or devil worship?"
