“Corinne is a medium and she told me about the box.” I spit out the lie.
His nose scrunches and his lips purse. “A medium? As in psychic?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath and go with it. “I didn’t believe her, but she wouldn’t leave me alone unless I helped deliver some messages.”
For several awkward moments, neither of us speaks. I allow Nick time to contemplate what I’ve said, and in the end, it’s obvious he isn’t sold on my story.
“You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question. He’s making it clear by his posture and lack of words that he doesn’t.
Nick steeples his fingers over his mouth, eyes never wavering from mine. I refuse to look away, because that would be a dead giveaway that my pants are on fire.
“It’s not that. I’m just not sure I buy into the whole psychic thing. It’s hard for me—”
“You deal in facts,” I finish, cutting him off.
He nods, lowering his hands to his lap. “I’m not saying my stance is correct, but it’s all that I know.”
There was never a time I thought someone like Nick would be easily convinced of the supernatural. Even still, I feel my hackles rising out of pure indignation, because even though he doesn’t realize it’s me who’s seeing ghosts, I’m taking this far too personally.
“I understand. But tell me, how do you think she knew about the box?” I prop my elbow on the arm of the chair and lean against it, likely giving the impression of being haughty.
“I dunno. Maybe she knew Ollie? Or perhaps someone who was close to Ollie knows her. It could be any number of reasons,” he says, pulling his shirt away from his chest.
“I see.”
I’m trying to not show my offense at his rebuff, but it’s hard. This is a situation I’ve never found myself in before. Trying toconvince someone to side with a cause I’m not even admitting I believe in is proving impossible.
“Don’t do that,” he says, leaning forward, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Do what?”
“Get defensive. This isn’t me discountingyou. I’m only trying to work through this on my own, and looking at the facts, it seems more likely that the woman is trying to dupe you into doing her dirty work.”
“She isn’t,” I say, placing my hands on top of the table, but never breaking eye contact with Nick.
“How well do you know her, Alyssa? I’ve never seen her around you before.”
I huff a laugh. “How well do you knowme? We’ve lived next door to each other for years and you’ve said more words to me in the last two weeks than you have since you’ve moved in.”
His eyes close and he blows out a breath. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“Why?”
“We’re neighbors, for one. Then there’s the whole break-in situation.”
I lift my hands to stop him, needing to get to the important stuff.
“Listen, that’s why I’m here. I know that you and your department are extremely busy, so I’ve been looking into my break-in myself.”
His eyes widen fractionally. “That so?”
He doesn’t say it in a condescending tone or anything that suggests he’s put off by my words. He mostly seems surprised.
“It is,” I confirm. Now to pack on the lies. “I understand that Billy Garet is dead, but the likeness between him and my intruder had me curious about the man.”
“Alyssa, I’m really sorry it’s taken so—”
I shake my head to stop him. “Please let me finish. I understand that you were unable to prove that a break-in occurred, but I know what I experienced, Nick. I need you to trust me.”
