“Sometimes I can see the spirits of people who have passed.”
I swear to God, in the space that follows I can hear conversations on the top deck. Maggie’s jaw sways in the wind and if the situation weren’t serious I’d be laughing.
“You think this is a joke,” he finally says. He hasn’t given anything away but his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.
“No. It’s not to me anyway.”
“You see dead people?” he asks.
“Not exactly.” I’m winging this now. Be careful and remember every detail of the lie for later. “I can sense spirits. Sometimes see them. But not like in the movies. It’s hard to explain.”
Zebulund takes a half-step back and sort of falls into the couch. It’s the biggest indication of his reaction. “You’re telling me that last night there was a ghost in the cabin?”
My most serious eyebrows are in place when I sit across from him. I’ve practiced in the mirror I know what they’re doing.
“I think. I sensed… a, um, spirit.”
“You expect me to believe you.”
“Not even remotely. I wouldn’t believe anybody who said it to me. But I’m living it. And if we’re both being honest, I think you, uh felt, her too.”
“Her?”
Crap. Too far.
“I think it’s a her. I think she’s angry. Or trying to share something.”
“Really?”
“She seemed to be trying to get attention last night. Like she was throwing a tantrum. It’s hard to ignore that.” Lord, wasn’t that the truth. “But you must have caught me a few times.”
Maggie’s bent over—her shoulders shake with unheard laughter.
“It seemed like you were looking at something. And then… with the cards. At first…” Zebulund clears his throat. “At first I thought Viktor was playing some sort of juvenile joke. He does that. But then I saw the other two, they aren’t actors like you guys. That was genuine fear.”
Holy shit, he’s buying it.
“I don’t want to believe you,” he adds. “But I definitely felt something in that room. I kept feeling like someone was standing behind me.”
I clench my fist to keep from looking at Maggie. She’s right next to him sticking her tongue out at him.
“Right now… I can sense someone here…” She sobers and stands back, the humor sliding off her face.
“That would make sense,” I say.
His gaze shoots up. His hand has a tremor as he loosens the tie around his neck. “Why… uh, why do you say that?”
Pause for dramatic effect.
“She’s here now.” Even I get chills at the way I say it. Daytime and the room is lit up. Maggie shivers dramatically, a cheeky grin on her face.
“Shit.”
“She may be haunting you.” My gut instinct is driving the show.
“I don’t believe this.” Zebulund searches the ceiling for answers.
“I understand. I wouldn’t buy it either. If things were reversed.” Look discouraged, contemplative eyebrows. “I don’t think she can hurt you. If that helps.”
