He huffs a humorless laugh. “Come on, Alyssa. You expect me to believe you know anything about Ollie Craft? You know he was a dealer. Right?”
I turn toward him, leveling him with a stare I hope makes it clear I’m in no mood to be questioned. “He might’ve been a dealer, Nick, but it was to keep this place for his mother. To ensure she didn’t lose everything.”
Nick’s breath hitches, and I see something like remorse wash over his features.
Several silent minutes go by before a throat clears.
“H-how did you know about this?”
I look over my shoulder to find Mrs.Craft, shoebox in hand.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “I have my sources.” I don’t repeat the part about Ollie being present. That wouldn’t go over well with the surly detective seated next to me.
Her head swivels, searching the area, but she won’t find what she’s looking for. If it were possible, Ollie would’ve made it so.
“O-Oliver,” she calls, voice trembling. “P-please stop worrying about m-me.” She inhales for five long seconds, blowing it out for ten. I count every second, focused on her. “I’m going to be fine as long as I know you’re with your sister.”
My throat closes and I have to tamp down the emotion bubbling up as I witness this playing out.
I can’t help but think about what my own reunion with Garrett would be like. Would I spend my time crying or blurting out all the things I never said? I’d like to think I’d be composed, but it’sdoubtful. After this experience with the Crafts, I’m not sure I want that reunion after all. Not if it means that Garrett has unfinished business and is stuck wandering around some random house, looking for his own way to the afterlife.
That’s not what I want for him. Peace is what these spirits deserve. Even Ollie.
“Would you suck it up?” Corinne scolds. “You’re supposed to be helping move him to Summerland, not sitting around moping.”
My head snaps to Corinne and my nose scrunches. “Summerwhat?”
She rolls her eyes. “This level of mediumship is wasted on people like you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nick’s posture shift. His back is straight, and his hands are balled into fists on top of the table.
Great. He’s probably piecing together the conversation and making a case for my involuntary commitment.
Ollie appears behind Corinne, and for the first time, I don’t jump or screech in fear.
“Will you please tell my mom that I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger. That I couldn’t cope with Isla’s death and the fact our father bailed when we needed him most.” The words are rushed out, as if he’s on borrowed time and needs to spit it all out before he misses his chance.
Mrs.Craft covers her mouth with her palms. “I... I heard him.” Her voice wobbles, but she forges ahead, pleading with her son. “Ollie, you listen to me. Your dad leaving was the best thing that happened to us. He was a varmint.”
Ollie snickers, looking young and carefree for a change.
“We were better for his absence. I want you to stop blaming yourself. Go on and be with Isla. Tell her that you two are my greatest joy.”
Ollie walks toward his mother and wraps her in a ghostlyembrace. I would think she can’t feel it, but her breath hitches and I wonder. When the moment is done, Ollie makes his way to me.
“Thank you. That’s what I needed.” He takes one more look at his mom. “I’m ready now.”
I smile, nodding in acknowledgment. The elation I thought would come doesn’t. I find no joy in this family’s heartache.
“Before I go, I have a message for you.”
I bite my bottom lip, feeling uneasy.
“Work with Nick. Share with him what you know about...” He makes a face at the ceiling before shrugging. “Some dude named Billy.”
My eyes widen and mouth gapes.
“Who told you to give her this message?” Corinne asks, sounding rather suspicious.
